I'm Half Scotch-irish On Both Sides, And

"in France," Marcel Said With Wintry Dignity, "accidents Occur In The Bedroom, Not The Kitchen."

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.

If, At The Close Of Business Each Evening, I Myself Can Understand What I've Written, I Feel The Day Hasn't Been Totally Wasted.

If Travel Has Taught Me Nothing More, And It Certainly Has, It's This: You Never Know When Some Trifling Incident, Utterly Without Significance, May Pitchfork You Into Adventure Or, By The Same Token, May Not.

To Err Is Human, To Forgive Supine.