New York Loves Itself In An Unkind

Since We Hate The Same People, We Should Be Friends.

The Harp Is An Insipid Instrument--no Good For Dancing, Feasting, Or Marching, Only For Sitting Primly In A Parlor Or On A Cloud.

If The Current Is Right, One Can Drift To Success.

If Folly Disappeared, Wit Would Starve.

Moderation In All Things Is Best, But It's Pretty Hard To Get Excited About It.