August Creates As She Slumbers, Replete And

There Are Some Optimists Who Search Eagerly For The Skunk Cabbage Which In February Sometimes Pushes Itself Up Through The Ice, And Who Call It A Sign Of Spring. I Wish That I Could Feel That Way About It, But I Do Not. The Truth Of The Matter, To Me, Is Simply That Skunk Cabbage Blooms In The Winter Time.

There Is No Conceivable Human Action Which Custom Has Not At One Time Justified And At Another Condemned.

The Most Serious Charge Which Can Be Brought Against New England Is Not Puritanism, But February.... Spring Is Too Far Away To Comfort Even By Anticipation, And Winter Long Ago Lost The Charm Of Novelty. This Is The Very Three A.m. Of The Calendar.

Any Euphemism Ceases To Be Euphemistic After A Time And The True Meaning Begins To Show Through. It's A Losing Game, But We Keep On Trying.

Logic Is The Art Of Going Wrong With Confidence.