Except In Streetcars One Should Never Be

Turn Up The Lights. I Don't Want To Go Home In The Dark.

There Was Clearly Nothing To Do But Flop Down On The Shabby Little Couch And Howl.

[a]ll Of Life, As We Know It, Moves In Little, Unavailing Circles. More Justly Than To Anything Else, It Can Be Likened To The Game Of Baseball. Crack! We Hit The Ball, And Away We Go. If We Earn A Run (in Life We Call It Success) We Get Back To The Home Plate And Sit Upon A Bench. If We Are Thrown Out, We Walk Back To The Home Plate -- And Sit Upon A Bench.

Yes, I Get Dry Spells. Sometimes I Can't Turn Out A Thing For Three Months. When One Of Those Spells Comes On I Quit Trying To Work And Go Out And See Something Of Life. You Can't Write A Story That's Got Any Life In It By Sitting At A Writing Table And Thinking. You've Got To Get Out Into The Streets, Into The Crowds, Talk With People, And Feel The Rush And Throb Of Real Life-that's The Stimulant For A Story Writer.

The Magi, As You Know, Were Wise Men Wonderfully Wise Men Who Brought Gifts To The Babe In The Manger. They Invented The Art Of Giving Christmas Presents.