Irish Was A Man Of Parts Even

Among The Monsters, I Am Well Hidden; Who Looks For A Leaf In A Forest?

The Clown May Be The Source Of Mirth, But - Who Shall Make The Clown Laugh?

Our Fingernails Match Our Toenails, Match Our Lipstick Match Our Rouge...the Habit Of Applying Warpaint Outlasts The Battle.

I Think The Adjective Post-modernist Really Means Mannerist. Books About Books Is Fun But Frivolous.

[t]ea, That Uniquely English Meal, That Unnecessary Collation At Which No Stimulants--neither Alcohol Nor Meat--are Served, That Comforting Repast Of Which To Partake Is As Good As Second Childhood.