The Cigar Is The Perfect Complement To

Life Is A Slate Where All Our Sins Are Written; From Time To Time We Rub The Sponge Of Repentance Over It So We Can Begin Sinning Again.

Lying, Like License, Has Its Degrees.

Gossiping Is The Plague Of Little Towns.

The Prayers Of A Lover Are More Imperious Than The Menaces Of The Whole World

... Love Is Too Delicate A Flower To Rise Again When One Has Trampled It Under Foot.