Artists Never Make Wars. They

Promiscuous ... Was A Word I Had Never Applied To Myself. Possibly No One Ever Does, For It Is A Sordid Word, Reducing Many Valuable Moments To Nothing More Than Doglike Copulation.

The Great Omission In American Life Is Solitude; Not Loneliness, For This Is An Alienation That Thrives Most In The Midst Of Crowds, But That Zone Of Time And Space, Free From The Outside Pressures, Which Is The Incubator Of The Spirit.

A Man At His Desk In A Room With A Closed Door Is A Man At Work. A Woman At A Desk In Any Room Is Available.

In The Race For Money Some Men May Come First, But Man Comes Last.

Everybody Likes To See Somebody Else Get Caught For The Vices Practiced By Themselves.