I Pursue Pleasure, But Stingily, Suspiciously.

Funerals Prove That Someone Is Really Gone.

Profusion Gives Pleasure Up To A Point; Then We Become Squeamish.

I Tried Good Taste, But The Strain Was Too Much For Me.

The Pointless Ferocities Of Intellectual Life Shock Businessmen, Who Kill Only To Eat.

Smiling Half-reluctance Seems To Promise More Than The Frankest Gesture Of Desire.