It's A Kind Of Spiritual Snobbery That

There Are Always Reasons For Murdering A Man. But There Is No Justification For His Existence.

Fancy Language, Like Poplin, Too Often Conceals An Eczema.

At One Time Or Another All Normal People Have Wished Their Loved Ones Were Dead.

To Abandon Oneself To Principles Is Really To Die - And To Die For An Impossible Love Which Is The Contrary Of Love.

On My Way Out I Was Even Going To Shake His Hand, But I Remembered Just In Time That I'd Killed A Man.