No, No, There Must Be A Limit

Advertise, Or Go Under.

If We Did Not Know All His Retorts By Heart, If We Had Not Taken The Sting Out Of Them By Incessant Repetition In The Accents Of The Pulpit, And If We Had Not Somehow Got It Into Our Heads That Brains Were Rather Reprehnsible, We Should Reckon Him Among The Greatest Wits Of All Time. Nobody Else, In Three Brief Years, Has Achieved Such An Output Of Epigram.

But That's Men All Over ... Poor Dears, They Can't Help It. They Haven't Got Logical Minds.

If You Want Your Own Way, God Will Let You Have It. Hell Is The Enjoyment Of One's Own Way Forever.

The English Language Has A Deceptive Air Of Simplicity; So Have Some Little Frocks; But They Are Both Not The Kind Of Thing You Can Run Up In Half An Hour With A Machine.