"after All," As A Pretty Girl Once

Have You Noticed ... There Is Never Any Third Act In A Nightmare? They Bring You To A Climax Of Terror And Then Leave You There. They Are The Work Of Poor Dramatists.

There Is Much Virtue In A Window. It Is To A Human Being As A Frame Is To A Painting, As A Proscenium To A Play, As 'form' To Literature. It Strongly Defines Its Content.

There Is Laughter That Goes So Far As To Lose All Touch With Its Motive, And To Exist Only, Grossly, In Itself. This Is Laughter At Its Best. A Man To Whom Such Laughter Has Often Been Granted May Happen To Die In A Work-house. No Matter. I Will Not Admit That He Has Failed In Life. Another Man, Who Has Never Laughed Thus, May Be Buried In Westminster Abbey, Leaving More Than A Million Pounds Overhead. What Then? I Regard Him As A Failure.

Humility Is A Virtue, And It Is A Virtue Innate In Guests.

But To Die Of Laughter--this, Too, Seems To Me A Great Euthanasia.