Nicknames Are Fond Names. We Do Not

A Closed Mind Is A Dying Mind.

Christmas Is Not A Season. It Is A Feeling.

To Be Alive Is A Fine Thing. It Is The Finest Thing In The World, Though Hazardous. It Is A Unique Thing. It Happens Only Once In A Lifetime. To Be Alive, To Know Consciously That You Are Alive, And To Relish That Knowledge -- This Is A Kind Of Magic. Or It May Be A Kind Of Madness, Exhilarating But Harmless.

Now Gae Your Wa'stho'anes As Gude As Ever Happit Flesh And Blude, Yet Part We Maunthe Case Sae Hard Is, Amang The Writers And The Bardies That Lang They'll Brook The Auld I Trow, Or Neibours Cry,'weel Brook The New'.

No Woman Ought To Pretend She's Intelligent. And If She Is She Ought To Have The Intelligence To Pretend She Isn't.