Only A Mother Knows A

And We Meet, With Champagne And A Chicken, At Last.

Miserable Is The Fate Of Writers: If They Are Agreeable, They Are Offensive; And If Dull, They Starve.

Copiousness Of Words, However Ranged, Is Always False Eloquence, Though It Will Ever Impose On Some Sort Of Understandings.

Be Plain In Dress, And Sober In Your Diet; In Short, My Deary, Kiss Me, And Be Quiet.

You Can Be Pleased With Nothing If You Are Not Pleased With Yourself.