There Are Few Nudities So

A Dead Grief Is Easier To Bear Than A Live Trouble.

The Thinkers Of The World Should By Rights Be Guardians Of The World's Mirth.

There Is Something Frightful In Being Required To Enjoy And Appreciate All Masterpieces; To Read With Equal Relish Milton, And Dante, And Calderon, And Goethe, And Homer, And Scott, And Voltaire, And Wordsworth, And Cervantes, And Molière, And Swift.

No Rural Community, No Suburban Community, Can Ever Possess The Distinctive Qualities That City Dwellers Have For Centuries Given To The World.

We Have But The Memories Of Past Good Cheer, We Have But The Echoes Of Departed Laughter. In Vain We Look And Listen For The Mirth That Has Died Away. In Vain We Seek To Question The Gray Ghosts Of Old-time Revelers.