Money Was The Manure Of Politics.

You Are Softening Toward The Young Rascal Because He Is Ill, And Because He Says He Likes Cats." "it Is An Engaging Quality, Emerson." "that Depends," Said Emerson Darkly, "on How He Likes Them.

Everything Has Happened Before - Not Once, But Over And Over Again. We May Not Be Able To Solve Our Problems Through What Are Pompously Called "the Lessons Of History," But At Least We Should Be Able To Recognize The Issues And Perhaps Avoid Some Of The Solutions That Have Failed In The Past. And We Can Take Heart In Our Own Dilemma By Realizing That Other People In Other Times Have Survived Worse.

He Hesitated For A Moment. Then He Said Softly, "i Love You, Mother." He Took My Hand And Kissed It, And Folded My Fingers Round The Stem Of The Rose. He Had Stripped It Of Its Thorns.

Superstition Has Its Practical Uses.

In The Silence I Heard Bastet, Who Had Retreated Under The Bed, Carrying On A Mumbling, Profane Monologue. (if You Ask How I Knew It Was Profane, I Presume You Have Never Owned A Cat.)