Cherry Cobbler Is Shortcake With

I Suppose It Is A Gift, Being Young, But It Isn't Special. We've All Got It, Early In Life.

America -- Rather, The United States -- Seems To Me To Be The Jew Among The Nations. It Is Resourceful, Adaptable, Maligned, Envied, Feared, Imposed Upon. It Is Warm-hearted, Over-friendly; Quick-witted, Lavish, Colorful; Given To Extravagant Speech And Gestures; Its People Are Travelers And Wanderers By Nature, Moving, Shifting, Restless; Swarming In Fords, In Ocean Liners; Craving Entertainment; Volatile. The Chuckle Among The Nations Of The World.

If Men Ever Discovered How Tough Women Actually Are, They Would Be Scared To Death.

Wasn't Marriage, Like Life, Unstimulating And Unprofitable And Somewhat Empty When Too Well Ordered And Protected And Guarded. Wasn't It Finer, More Splendid, More Nourishing, When It Was, Like Life Itself, A Mixture Of The Sordid And The Magnificent; Of Mud And Stars; Of Earth And Flowers; Of Love And Hate And Laughter And Tears And Ugliness And Beauty And Hurt.

Your Idea Of Bliss Is To Wake Up On A Monday Morning Knowing You Haven't A Single Engagement For The Entire Week. You Are Cradled In A White Paper Cocoon Tied Up With Typewriter Ribbon.