No, It Is Not Only Our Fate

Raids Are Slightly Constipating.

Ghosts, We Hope, May Be Always With Us - That Is, Never Too Far Out Of The Reach Of Fancy. On The Whole, It Would Seem They Adapt Themselves Well, Perhaps Better Than We Do, To Changing World Conditions - They Enlarge Their Domain, Shift Their Hold On Our Nerves, And, Dispossessed Of One Habitat, Set Up House In Another. The Universal Battiness Of Our Century Looks Like Providing Them With A Propitious Climate.

... Artists Were Intended To Be An Ornament To Society. As A Society In Themselves They Are Unthinkable.

Rudeness To Mrs. Dosely Was Like Dropping A Pat Of Butter On To A Hot Plate - It Slid And Melted Away.

One Can Live In The Shadow Of An Idea Without Grasping It.