Never Call Anyone A Baboon

Pliny The Elder Perished In 79 A.d. When He Refused To Flee From The Great Eruption Of Mt. Vesuvius, Insisting That Everything Would Be All Right. It Wasn't.

I Only Know That All Is Lost, And That Nothing Can Help Me Unless I Inherit Money, Strike Oil Or Go To Work.

The Sloth Lives His Life Upside Down. He Is Perfectly Comfortable That Way. If The Blood Rushes To His Head, Nothing Happens Because There Is Nothing To Work On.

I Do Not Travel. I Am Not Much Of An Extrovert, And I'm Not Much Interested In Extroverted Objects. I Do Not Care For The 'ideas' Of Novelists. Novels Are Wonderful, Of Course, But I Prefer Newspapers.

It's Easy To See The Faults In People, I Know; And It's Harder To See The Good. Especially When The Good Isn't There.