The Man Who Never In

Printer's Ink Has Been Running A Race Against Gunpowder These Many, Many Years. Ink Is Handicapped, In A Way, Because You Can Blow Up A Man With Gunpowder In Half A Second, While It May Take Twenty Years To Blow Him Up With A Book. But The Gunpowder Destroys Itself Along With Its Victim, While A Book Can Keep On Exploding For Centuries.

My Theology, Briefly, Is That The Universe Was Dictated But Not Signed.

Being In A Hurry Seems So Fiercely Important When You Yourself Are The Hurrier And So Comically Ludicrous When It Is Someone Else.

All Cities Are Mad: But The Madness Is Gallant. All Cities Are Beautiful: But The Beauty Is Grim.

No One Appreciates The Very Special Genius Of Your Conversation As The Dog Does.