At Twelve Noon, The Natives

Consider The Public. Never Fear It Nor Despise It. Coax It, Charm It, Interest It, Stimulate It, Shock It Now And Then If You Must, Make It Laugh, Make It Cry, But Above All Never, Never, Never Bore The Living Hell Out Of It.

I See Her As One Great Stampede Of Lips Directed At The Nearest Derriere.

It's Never Too Early For A Cocktail.

Though The Fact That They Have To Be Rebuilt And Frequently Mortgaged To The Hilt Is Inclined To Take The Gilt Off The Gingerbread, And Certainly Damps The Fun Of The Eldest Son.

As One Gets Older, One Discovers Everything Is Going To Be Exactly The Same With Different Hats On.