The Wit Of A Graduate Student Is

That Is The Operatic Problem; The Singer Must Keep Up A Big Head Of Steam While Trying To Appear Secretive, Or Seductive, Or Consumptive. Some Ingenious Composer Should Write An Opera About A Group Of People Who Were Condemned By A Cruel God To Scream All The Time; It Would Be An Instantaneous Success, And A Triumph Of Versimilitude.

Like It Or Not, To Reach Middle Age With Less Money Or Less Prestige Than Our Father Had Is Somewhat To Lose Face. Stupid Of Course, When Put Like That, But Who Is Prepared To Argue That We Are Not Stupid In Several Important Ways?

Fanaticism Is Overcompensation For Doubt.

Of Course, Fairies Are All Imported In North America. We Have No Native Fairies. The Little People Do Not Long Survive Importation Unless They Go To California And Grow Large And Beautiful, But Haven't Much Flavour, Like The Fruit And The Film Stars.

Book Lovers Are Thought By Unbookish People To Be Gentle And Unworldly, And Perhaps A Few Of Them Are So. But There Are Others Who Will Lie And Scheme And Steal To Get Books As Wildly And Unconscionably As The Dope-taker In Pursuit Of His Drug. They May Not Want The Books To Read Immediately, Or At All; They Want Them To Possess, To Range On Their Shelves, To Have At Command. They Want Books As A Turk Is Thought To Want Concubines - Not To Be Hastily Deflowered, But To Be Kept At Their Master's Call, And Enjoyed More Often In Thought Than In Reality.