Fate Was Dealing From The Bottom Of

Freedley: Will I Feel Better After I Take It? Dr. Fitch (coldly): I, Am A Physician, Freedley, Not An Astrologer. If You Want A Horoscope, There's A Gypsy Tearoom Over On Lexington Avenue.

I Tried To Resist His Overtures, But He Plied Me With Symphonies, Quartets, Chamber Music, And Cantatas.

The Main Obligation Is To Amuse Yourself.

A Farm Is An Irregular Patch Of Nettles Bounded By Short-term Notes, Containing A Fool And His Wife Who Didn't Know Enough To Stay In The City.

Nature, It Appears, Has Been Rather More Bountiful To Paul's Body And Purse Than To His Intellect; Above The Ears, Speaking Bluntly, The Boy Is Strictly Tapioca.