And Some Can Pot Begonias And Some

Our Loves Are Not Given, But Only Lent, At Compound Interest Of Cent Per Cent.

And The Talk Slid North, And The Talk Slid South With The Sliding Puffs From The Hookah-mouth; Four Things Greater Than All Things Are Women And Horses And Power And War.

Good Lord! Who Can Account For The Fathomless Folly Of The Public?

Fiction Is Truth's Elder Sister. Obviously. No One In The World Knew What Truth Was Till Some One Had Told A Story.

The Cat Will Keep His Side Of The Bargain. He Will Kill Mice, And He Will Be Kind To Babies When He Is In The House, Just So Long As They Do Not Pull His Tail Too Hard. But When He Has Done That, And Between Times, And When The Moon Gets Up And Night Comes, He Is The Cat That Walks By Himself, And All Places Are Alike To Him. Then He Goes Out To The Wet Wild Woods Or Up On The Wet Wild Trees Or On The Wet Wild Roofs, Waving His Wild Tail And Walking By His Wild Lone.