We Are Bound, You And I, And

Lying On The Floor, With The Carved Panels Of The Ceiling Flickering Dimly Above, I Found Myself Thinking That I Had Always Heretofore Assumed That The Tendency Of Eigh­teenth-century Ladies To Swoon Was Due To Tight Stays; Now I Rather Thought It Might Be Due To The Idiocy Of Eighteenth-century Men.

Gentle He Would Be, Denied He Would Not.

Through Eons Of Living In A Land So Poor There Was Little To Eat But Oats, They Had As Usual Converted Necessity Into A Virtue, And Insisted That They Liked The Stuff.

The Most Irritating Thing About Cliches, I Decided, Was How Frequently They Were True.

Ye Werena The First Lass I Kissed," He Said Softly. "but I Swear You'll Be The Last.