To Write Is A Humiliation.

The Machine Has Had A Pernicious Effect Upon Virtue, Pity, And Love, And Young Men Used To Machines Which Induce Inertia, And Fear, Are Near Impotent.

We Are Always Talking About Being Together, And Yet Whatever We Invent Destroys The Family, And Makes Us Wild, Touchless Beasts Feeding On Technicolor Prairies And Rivers.

The Majority Of Persons Choose Their Wives With As Little Prudence As They Eat. They See A Troll With Nothing Else To Recommend Her But A Pair Of Thighs And Choice Hunkers, And So Smart To Void Their Seed That They Marry Her At Once. They Imagine They Can Live In Marvelous Contentment With Handsome Feet And Ambrosial Buttocks. Most Men Are Accredited Fools Shortly After They Leave The Womb.

We Are Uneasy With An Affectionate Man, For We Are Positive He Wants Something Of Us, Particularly Our Love.

I Would Rather Take Hellebore Than Spend A Conversation With A Good, Little Man.