There Are Certain People Whom One Feels

The Plural Of Spouse Is Spice.

The Misfortunes Hardest To Bear Are These Which Never Came.

The Bicycle, The Bicycle Surely, Should Always Be The Vehicle Of Novelists And Poets.

Everybody Thinks Of Others As Being Excessively Human, With All The Frailties And Crotchets Appertaining To That Curious Condition. But Each Of Us Also Seems To Regard Himself As Existing On A Detached Plane Of Observation, Exempt (save In Moments Of Avid Crisis) From The Strange Whims Of Humanity En Masse.

There Are Certain People Whom One Feels Almost Inclined To Urge To Hurry Up And Die So That Their Letters Can Be Published.