New York Is The Meeting

Una's Face Was An Unbroken Block Of Calculation, Saving Where, Upon Her Upper Lip, A Little Down Of Hair Fluttered. Yet It Gave One An Uncanny Feeling. It Made One Think Of A Tassel On A Hammer.

After All, It Is Not Where One Washes One's Neck That Counts But Where One Moistens One's Throat.

For Most People, Life Is Nasty, Brutish, And Short; For Me, It Has Simply Been Nasty And Brutish.

Too Great A Sense Of Identity Makes A Man Feel He Can Do No Wrong. And Too Little Does The Same.

If Helen Of Troy Could Have Been Seen Eating Peppermints Out Of A Paper Bag, It Is Highly Probable That Her Admirers Would Have Been An Entirely Different Class.it Is The Thing You Are Found Doing While The Horde Looks On That You Shall Be Loved For - Or Ignored.