True ownership of anything requires time.

In the metropolitan haunts of the highly sophisticated, the cocktail is no longer an instrument of friendship but a competitive fashion statement, or one-upmanship.

Exercise, to qualify at all, must be lonely, painfu, humorless, and boring.

Our Revolution was born and raised in taverns.

A catless writer is almost inconceivable.

The larger the ego, the less the need for other egos around. The more modest, humble, and self-effacing we feel, the more we suffer from solitude, feeling ourselves inadequate company.

Perhaps it's a good time to reconsider pleasure at its roots. Changing out of wet shoes and socks, for instance.