The Man Who Suspects His Own Tediousness

I Beg You Come Tonight And Dine A Welcome Waits You And Sound Wine The Roederer Chilly To A Charm As Juno's Breasts The Claret Warm.

So I Sit There Kicked My Heels, Thinking About New Orleans, And Watching A Morbid Blue-bottle Fly Attempt To Commit Suicide By Butting His Head Against The Windowpane.

O Harp Of Life, So Speedily Unstrung!

The Walking Delegates Of A Higher Civilization, Who Have Nothing To Divide, Look Upon The Notion Of Property As A Purely Artificial Creation Of Human Society. According To These Advanced Philosophers, The Time Will Come When No Man Shall Be Allowed To Call Anything His. The Beneficent Law Which Takes Away An Author's Rights In His Own Books Just At The Period When Old Age Is Creeping Upon Him Seems To Me A Handsome Stride Toward The Longed-for Millennium.

Between The Reputation Of The Author Living And The Reputation Of The Same Author Dead There Is Ever A Wide Discrepancy.