Poor Fellow, He Suffers From

I Read The Newspapers Avidly. It Is My One Form Of Continuous Fiction.

I Welcome This Opportunity Of Pricking The Bloated Bladder Of Lies With The Poniard Of Truth

I Would Rather Be Kept Alive In The Efficient If Cold Altruism Of A Large Hospital Than Expire In A Gush Of Warm Sympathy In A Small One.

Poor Fellow, He Suffers From Files.

No Amount Of Cajolery, And No Attempts At Ethical Or Social Seduction, Can Eradicate From My Heart A Deep Burning Hatred For The Tory Party. So Far As I Am Concerned They Are Lower Than Vermin.