It Is Discouraging How Many

An Infant Prodigy Of Nine Is Shoved Upon The Stage In White. She Starts Off In A Dismal Whine About A Dark And Stormy Night, A Burglar, Whose Heart Is True, Despite His Wicked-looking Face, Who Puts The Little Child In Doom, To Save Her Mamma's Jewel Case. This May Bring Tears To Every Eye; It Does Not Set My Heart On Fire. I'd Like To Stand Serenely By And Watch That Horrid Child Expire.

She Had Much In Common With Hitler, Only No Mustache.

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.

Las Vegas: It Was Not Cafe Society, It Was Nescafe Society

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