There Are Crimes Which The Law Cannot

Death Seems To Provide The Minds Of The Anglo-saxon Race With A Greater Fund Of Amusement Than Any Other Single Subject.

You Can Give It A Long Name If You Like, But I'm An Old-fashioned Woman And I Call It Mother-wit, And It's So Rare For A Man To Have It That If He Does You Write A Book About Him And Call Him Sherlock Holmes.

Heroics That Don't Come Off Are The Very Essence Of Burlesque.

Of Course, There Is Some Truth In Advertising. There's Yeast In Bread, But You Can't Make Bread With Yeast Alone. Truth In Advertising Is Like Leaven, Which A Woman Hid In Three Measures Of Meal. It Provides A Suitable Quantity Of Gas, With Which To Blow Out A Mass Of Crude Misrepresentation Into A Form That The Public Can Swallow.

However Entrancing It Is To Wander Unchecked Through A Garden Of Bright Images, Are We Not Enticing Your Mind From Another Subject Of Almost Equal Importance?