Sheer Madness Is, Of Course, The Highest

A Man Of Forty Today Has Nothing To Worry Him But Falling Hair, Inability To Button The Top Button, Failing Vision, Shortness Of Breath, A Tendency Of The Collar To Shut Off All Breathing, Trembling Of The Kidneys To Whatever Tune The Orchestra Is Playing, And A General Sense Of Giddiness When The Matter Of Rent Is Brought Up. Forty Is Life's Golden Age.

There Is A Note In The Front Of The Volume Saying That No Public Reading May Be Given Without First Getting The Author's Permission. It Ought To Be Made Much More Difficult To Do Than That.

A Man Gets On A Train With His Little Boy, And Gives The Conductor Only One Ticket. 'how Old's Your Kid?' The Conductor Says, And The Father Says, 'he's Four Years Old.' 'he Looks At Least Twelve To Me,' Says The Conductor. And The Father Says, 'can I Help It If He Worries?

The Knocking Out Of A Pipe Can Be Made Almost As Important As The Smoking Of It, Especially If There Are Nervous People In The Room. A Good, Smart Knock Of A Pipe Against A Tin Wastebasket And You Will Have A Neurasthenic Out Of His Chair And Into The Window Sash In No Time.

The Way To Go To The Circus, However, Is With Someone Who Has Seen Perhaps One Theatrical Performance Before In His Life And That In The High School Hall... The Scales Of Sophistication Are Struck From Your Eyes And You See In The Circus A Gathering Of Men And Women Who Are Able To Do Things As A Matter Of Course Which You Couldn't Do If Your Life Depended On It.