What The Eye Does Not

People Who Have Tried It, Tell Me That A Clear Conscience Makes You Very Happy And Contented; But A Full Stomach Does The Business Quite As Well, And Is Cheaper, And More Easily Obtained.

The Proverbial Englishman, We Know From Old Chronicler Froissart, Takes His Pleasures Sadly, And The Englishwoman Goes A Step Further And Takes Her Pleasures In Sadness Itself.

It Is Very Strange, This Domination Of Our Intellect By Our Digestive Organs. We Cannot Work, We Cannot Think, Unless Our Stomach Wills So. It Dictates To Us Our Emotions, Our Passions.... We Are But The Veriest, Sorriest Slaves Of Our Stomach. Reach Not After Morality And Righteousness, My Friends; Watch Vigilantly Your Stomach, And Diet It With Care And Judgment. Then Virtue And Contentment Will Come And Reign Within Your Heart, Unsought By Any Effort Of Your Own; And You Will Be A Good Citizen, A Loving Husband, And A Tender Father—a Noble, Pious Man.

We Are So Bound Together That No Man Can Labor For Himself Alone. Each Blow He Strikes In His Own Behalf Helps To Mold The Universe.

Life Is A Thing To Be Lived, Not Spent; To Be Faced, Not Ordered. Life Is Not A Game Of Chess, The Victory To The Most Knowing; It Is A Game Of Cards, One's Hand By Skill To Be Made The Best Of.