One Can't Prescribe Books, Even The Best

Come You Back, You British Soldier; Come You Back To Mandalay!

Fiction Is Truth's Elder Sister. Obviously. No One In The World Knew What Truth Was Till Some One Had Told A Story.

Lord God Of Hosts, Be With Us Yet, Lest We Forget--lest We Forget!

Ship Me Somewhere East Of Suez, Where The Best Is Like The Worst, Where There Aren't No Ten Commandments An' A Man Can Raisea Thirst.

Of Course The Man Was Wild Too. He Was Dreadfully Wild. He Didn't Even Begin To Be Tame Till He Met The Woman, And She Told Him That She Did Not Like Living In His Wild Ways. She Picked Out A Nice Dry Cave, Instead Of A Heap Of Wet Leaves, To Lie Down In; And She Strewed Clean Sand On The Floor; And She Lit A Nice Fire Of Wood At The Back Of The Cave; And She Hung A Dried Wild-horse Skin, Tail Down, Across The Opening Of The Cave; And She Said, 'wipe Your Feet, Dear, When You Come In, And Now We'll Keep House.