I Want A Dish To Taste Good,

It Is No Wonder That People Are So Horrible When They Start Life As Children.

I Am Always Incorrigibly Interested In The Behaviour Of The 'human Animal', And Look Forward To Perusing Divers Effusions Of Your Lively Pen.

I Want A Dish To Taste Good, Rather Than To Have Been Seethed In Pig's Milk And Served Wrapped In A Rhubarb Leaf With Grated Thistle Root.

I Once Wrote Deduceable Instead Of Deducible In A Book, Though Nobody Then Or Since Has Taken Me Up On It. A Small Point As They Go, Perhaps, But Rule I Of Writing Acceptably Is To Get Everything Right As Far As You Can, And In This Case I Had Neglected To.

Death Has This Much To Be Said For It: You Don't Have To Get Out Of Bed For It. Wherever You Happen To Be They Bring It To You—free.