Losing Their Names, These Things Underwent A

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

In The Mythic Schema Of All Relations Between Men And Women, Man Proposes, And Woman Is Disposed Of.

A Day Without An Argument Is Like An Egg Without Salt.

For All Cats Have This Particularity, Each And Every One, From The Meanest Alley Sneaker To The Proudest, Whitest She That Ever Graced A Pontiff's Pillow — We Have Our Smiles, As It Were, Painted On. Those Small, Cool, Quite Mona Lisa Smiles That Smile We Must, No Matter Whether It's Been Fun Or It's Been Not. So All Cats Have A Politician's Air; We Smile And Smile And So They Think We're Villains

He Is, I Think, Already Pondering A Magisterial Project: That Of Buggering The English Language, The Ultimate Revenge Of The Colonialised.