Mother, May I Go And Maffick, Tear

Monogamy Is The Western Custom Of One Wife And Hardly Any Mistresses.

If He Had Unlimited Money At His Disposal, He Might Go Into The Wilds Somewhere And Shoot Big Game. I Never Know What The Big Game Have Done To Deserve It, But They Do Help To Deflect The Destructive Energies Of Some Of Our Social Misfits.

There Was Something Alike Terrifying And Piteous In The Spectacle Of These Frail Old Morsels Of Humanity Consecrating Their Last Flickering Energies To The Task Of Making Each Other Wretched. Hatred Seemed To Be The One Faculty Which Had Survived In Undiminished Vigor Where All Else Was Dropping Into Ordered And Symmetrical Decay.

The Fashion Just Now Is A Roman Catholic Frame Of Mind With An Agnostic Conscience: You Get The Mediaeval Picturesqueness Of The One With The Modern Conveniences Of The Other.

Find Yourself A Cup; The Teapot Is Behind You. Now Tell Me About Hundreds Of Things.