The Americans, Of Course, Are

Fashion Is Not Style. Nay, We Can Say More: Fashion Is Instead Of Style. Style Is An Idiom Springing Spontaneously From The Personality But Deliberately Maintained. If You Have No Personality, You May Be Able To Save Your Face And, Possibly, Your Entire Anatomy By Following The Current Fashion, But All We Shall Know About You, When We See You Coming Down The Street, Is That You Had Enough Money To Buy A Glossy Magazine And Were Sufficiently Cunning To Work Out The Cut Of The Garments Shown Therein.

Many [hooligans] Discover To Their Shame That They Have Scruples; They Have Roots And, Greatest Disadvantage Of All, They Have Hope. The Fathers Superior Of The Order Do Not Try To Influence Their Children In Satan; They Merely Shake Their Heads In Sorrow. They Know That The Apostate Must Work Out His Own Damnation.

Never Keep Up With The Joneses. Drag Them Down To Your Level.

Every Day Someone Notices Me And Waves To Me, Or Stops And Speaks To Me, Or Asks Me For An Autograph, Or Photographs Me.

The Proprietor Had Hair So Red That Pigmentation Had Flowed Out Into Every Visible Inch Of His Skin And Even Into The Pinks Of His Eyes, As The Colour Of Flowering Cherry Trees Stains Their Leaves.