Western Man Is Schizophrenic.

I Fancy That The Hell Of Too Many People Would Occupy A Respectable Place In The Hierarchy Of Infernal Regions.

One Of The Delights Known To Age, And Beyond The Grasp Of Youth, Is That Of Not Going.

I Have Always Been Delighted At The Prospect Of A New Day, A Fresh Try, One More Start, With Perhaps A Bit Of Magic Waiting Somewhere Behind The Morning.

To Multiply Your Joy, Count Your Blessings.

A Good Holiday Is One Spent Among People Whose Notions Of Time Are Vaguer Than Yours.