It Is Not Begging But The Beggar,

Wit Is A Pleasure-giving Thing, Largely Because It Eludes Reason; But In The Apprehension Of An Absurdity Through The Working Of The Comic Spirit There Is A Foundation Of Reason, And An Impetus To Human Companionship.

Humor Hardens The Heart, At Least To The Point Of Sanity.

A Villain Must Be A Thing Of Power, Handled With Delicacy And Grace. He Must Be Wicked Enough To Excite Our Aversion, Strong Enough To Arouse Our Fear, Human Enough To Awaken Some Transient Gleam Of Sympathy. We Must Triumph In His Downfall, Yet Not Barbarously Nor With Contempt, And The Close Of His Career Must Be In Harmony With All Its Previous Development.

Discussion Without Asperity, Sympathy With Fusion, Gayety Unracked By Too Abundant Jests, Mental Ease In Approaching One Another; These Are The Things Which Give A Pleasant Smoothness To The Rough Edge Of Life.

Our Dogs Will Love And Admire The Meanest Of Us, And Feed Our Colossal Vanity With Their Uncritical Homage.