Pretty Much All The Honest Truth-telling There

Anytime You See A Hungarian, Kick Him. He'll Know Why. Any Two Philosophers Can Tell Each Other All They Know In Two Hours.

War? War Is An Organized Bore.

The Foliage Has Been Losing Its Freshness Through The Month Of August, And Here And There A Yellow Leaf Shows Itself Like The First Gray Hair Amidst The Locks Of A Beauty Who Has Seen One Season Too Many.

The Very Minute A Thought Is Threatened With Publicity It Seems To Shrink Towards Mediocrity.

The World Has Its Fling At Lawyers Sometimes, But Its Very Denial Is An Admission. It Feels, What I Believe To Be The Truth, That Of All Secular Professions This Has The Highest Standards.