If There's One Word That Sums Up

A German Wine Label Is One Of The Things Life's Too Short For, A Daunting Testimony To That Peculiar Nation's Love Of Detail And Organization.

When I Find Someone I Respect Writing About An Edgy, Nervous Wine That Dithered In The Glass, I Cringe. When I Hear Someone I Don't Respect Talking About An Austere, Unforgiving Wine, I Turn A Bit Austere And Unforgiving Myself. When I Come Across Stuff Like That And Remember About The Figs And Bananas, I Want To Snigger Uneasily. You Can Call A Wine Red, And Dry, And Strong, And Pleasant. After That, Watch Out.

Sex Is A Momentary Itch, Love Never Lets You Go.

I Want A Dish To Taste Good, Rather Than To Have Been Seethed In Pig's Milk And Served Wrapped In A Rhubarb Leaf With Grated Thistle Root.

Those Who Professed Themselves Unable To Believe In The Reality Of Human Progress Ought To Cheer Themselves Up, As The Students Under Examination Had Conceivably Been Cheered Up, By A Short Study Of The Middle Ages. The Hydrogen Bomb, The South African Government, Chioang Kaidick, Senator Mccarthy Himself, Would Then Seem A Light Price To Pay For No Longer Being In The Middle Ages.