It Is A Hell Of A Thing

You Love A Lot Of Things If You Live Around Them, But There Isn't Any Woman And There Isn't Any Horse, Nor Any Before Nor Any After, That Is As Lovely As A Great Airplane.

Until The Dead Are Buried They Change Somewhat In Appearance Each Day. The Color Change In Caucasian Races Is From White To Yellow, To Yellow-green, To Black. If Left Long Enough In The Heat The Flesh Comes To Resemble Coal-tar, Especially Where It Has Been Broken Or Torn, And It Has Quite A Visible Tarlike Iridescence. The Dead Grow Larger Each Day Until Sometimes They Become Quite Too Big For Their Uniforms, Filling These Until They Seem Blown Tight Enough To Burst. The Individual Members May Increase In Girth To An Unbelievable Extent And Faces Fill As Taut And Globular As Balloons.

Auto Racing, Bull Fighting, And Mountain Climbing Are The Only Real Sports... All The Others Are Games.

Now Is No Time To Think Of What You Do Not Have. Think Of What You Can Do With That There Is

I've Seen You, Beauty, And You Belong To Me Now, Whoever You Are Waiting For And If I Never See You Again, I Thought. You Belong To Me And All Paris Belongs To Me And I Belong To This Notebook And This Pencil.