I May Forget My Dignity, But You

Hope, And Hopelessness, Persist Despite The Facts.

English Has Borrowed From Everywhere And Now Goes Everywhere.

The Harp Is An Insipid Instrument--no Good For Dancing, Feasting, Or Marching, Only For Sitting Primly In A Parlor Or On A Cloud.

I Really Like Life, Don't You? There's Nothing Else Quite Like It.

In The Theater Of Confusion, Knowing The Location Of The Exits Is What Counts.