If There's One Word That Sums Up

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.

Wives And Such Are Constantly Filling Up Any Refrigerator They Have A Claim On, Even Its Ice-compartment, With Irrelevant Rubbish Like Food.

Sex Stops When You Pull Up Your Pants, Love Never Lets You Go.

The Ideal Of Brotherhood Of Man, The Building Of The Just City, Is One That Cannot Be Discarded Without Lifelong Feelings Of Disappointment And Loss. But, If We Are To Live In The Real World, Discard It We Must.

If You Are Using An Adverb, You Have Got The Verb Wrong.