She Was Incurably Dishonest.

She’s Got An Indiscreet Voice,” I Remarked. “it’s Full Of-“ I Hesitated. “her Voice Is Full Of Money,” He Said Suddenly. That Was It. I’d Never Understood Before. It Was Full Of Money-that Was The Inexhaustible Charm That Rose And Fell In It, The Jingle Of It, The Cymbals’ Song Of It.

Laughter Is Easier Minute By Minute, Spilled With Prodigality, Tipped Out At A Cheerful Word.

The Farmers May Be The Backbone Of The Country, But Who Wants To Be A Backbone?

Beauty And Love Pass, I Know... Oh, There's Sadness, Too. I Suppose All Great Happiness Is A Little Sad. Beauty Means The Scent Of Roses And Then The Death Of Roses-

I Want You To Take A Red-hot Bath As Hot As You Can Bear It, And Just Relax Your Nerves. You Can Read In The Tub If You Wish.