I Am Always Incorrigibly Interested In The

If There's One Word That Sums Up Everything That's Gone Wrong Since The War, It's Workshop. After Youth, That Is.

Work Was Like Cats Were Supposed To Be: If You Disliked And Feared It And Tried To Keep Out If Its Way, It Knew At Once And Sought You Out And Jumped On Your Lap And Climbed All Over You To Show How Much It Loved You. Please God, He Thought, Don't Let Me Die In Harness.

The Ideal Of Brotherhood Of Man, The Building Of The Just City, Is One That Cannot Be Discarded Without Lifelong Feelings Of Disappointment And Loss. But, If We Are To Live In The Real World, Discard It We Must.

Wives And Such Are Constantly Filling Up Any Refrigerator They Have A Claim On, Even Its Ice-compartment, With Irrelevant Rubbish Like Food.

Death Has This Much To Be Said For It: You Don't Have To Get Out Of Bed For It. Wherever You Happen To Be They Bring It To You—free.