To Err Is Human, To Forgive Supine.

In My More Pompous Moments I Like To Think Of Myself As A Writer Rather Than A Humorist, But I Suppose That's Merely The Vanity Of Advancing Age.

A Basic Ingredient In The Manufacture Of Perfume, The Attar-a Heavy, Pale-yellow Oil Stored In Small Metal Drums-had Been Put Up As Collateral By Bulgaria, In Lieu Of Gold, At The Moscow Narodny Bank, A Communist Finance House For East-west Trade.

I Tried To Resist His Overtures, But He Plied Me With Symphonies, Quartets, Chamber Music, And Cantatas.

Where Would The Rockefellers Be Today If Old John D. Had Gone On Selling Short-weight Kerosene ... To Widows And Orphans Instead Of Wisely Deciding To Mulct The Whole Country.

Freedley: Will I Feel Better After I Take It? Dr. Fitch (coldly): I, Am A Physician, Freedley, Not An Astrologer. If You Want A Horoscope, There's A Gypsy Tearoom Over On Lexington Avenue.