The World's Becoming A Museum Of Socialist

Git An Eyeful Of Cesspool Alley The Land Of Opportunity.

Isn't It Curious How Completely Ignorant We All Are Of The Most Important Part Of Our Bodily Mechanism. It Is Really Criminal. Yet There Is No Nation In The World That Doesnt Surround Sex With Fantastic Walls. Of Course Ours Are Sillier Than Any-but Not Much.

Talk Is A Pure Art. Its Only Limits Are The Patience Of Listeners Who, When They Get Tired, Can Always Pay For Their Coffee Or Change It With A Friendly Waiter And Walk Out.

A Set Of Ideas, A Point Of View, A Frame Of Reference Is In Space Only An Intersection, The State Of Affairs At Some Given Momentin The Consciousness Of One Man Or Many Men, But In Time It Has Evolving Form, Virtually Organic Extension. In Time Ideas Can Be Thought Of As Sprouting, Growing, Maturing, Bringing Forth Seed And Dying Like Plants.

The Mind Of A Generation Is Its Speech. A Writer Makes Aspects Of That Speech Enduring By Putting Them In Print. He Whittles At The Words And Phrases Of Today And Makes Of Them Forms To Set The Mind Of Tomorrow's Generation. That's History. A Writer Who Writes Straight Is The Architect Of History.