One Martini Is Just Right.

Or You Can Broil The Meat, Fry The Onions, Stew The Garlic In The Red Wine...and Ask Me To Supper. I'll Not Care, Really, Even If Your Nose Is A Little Shiny, So Long As You Are Self-possessed And Sure That Wolf Or No Wolf, Your Mind Is Your Own And Your Heart Is Another's And Therefore In The Right Place.

Death ... So Seldom Happens Nowadays In The Awesome Quiet Of A Familiar Chamber. Most Of Us Die Violently, Thanks To The Advance Of Science And Warfare. If By Chance We Are Meant To End Life In Our Beds, We Are Whisked Like Pox Victims To The Nearest Hospital, Where We Are Kept As Alone And Unaware As Possible Of The Approach Of Disintegration.

The Oyster Leads A Dreadful But Exciting Life. Indeed, His Chance To Live At All Is Slim, And If He Should Survive The Arrows Of His Own Outrageous Fortune And In The Two Weeks Of His Carefree Youth Find A Clean Smooth Place To Fix On, The Years Afterwards Are Full Of Stress, Passion, And Danger.

But If I Must Be Alone, I Refuse To Be Alone As If It Were Something Weak And Distasteful, Like Convalescence.

War Is A Beastly Business, It Is True, But One Proof We Are Human Is Our Ability To Learn, Even From It, How Better To Exist