Somebody Informed Me Recently That The Key

People Don't Necessarily Want Or Need To Be Done Unto As You Would Have Them Do Unto You. They Want To Be Done Unto As They Want To Be Done Unto.

Perhaps The Truth Is That Heavy Literature Blooms In Extremes Of Temperature.

Mozart Combined High Formality And Playfulness That Delights As No Other Composition In Any Other Medium Does.

Pete Rose Is Too Rich A Character To Fit On A Bronze Plaque. He Requires A Good, Trenchant, Poignant (ah, Petey) Book, And This Is It.

I Do Not Know What The Cat Can Have Eaten. Usually I Know Exactly What The Cat Has Eaten. Not Only Have I Fed It To The Cat, At The Cat's Insistence, But The Cat Has Thrown It Up On The Rug, And Someone Has Tracked It All Over Onto The Other Rug. I Do Not Know Why Cats Are Such Habitual Vomiters. They Do Not Seem To Enjoy It, Judging By The Sounds They Make While They Are Doing It. It's Their Nature. A Dog Is Going To Bark. A Cat Is Going To Vomit.