You got a job?" "Ignatius hasta help me at home," Mrs. Reilly said. Her initial courage was failing a little, and she began to twist the lute string with the cord on the cake boxes. "I got terrible arthuritis." "I dust a bit," Ignatius told the policeman. "In addition, I am at the moment writing a lengthy indictment against our century. When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.

Veneration of Mark Twain is one of the roots of our current intellectual stalemate.

When my brain begins to reel from my literary labors, I make an occasional cheese dip.

Mothers got a hard road to travel, believe me.

It's not your fate to be well treated," Ignatius cried. "You're an overt masochist. Nice treatment will confuse and destroy you.

Having once been so high, humanity fell so low. What had once been dedicated to the soul was now dedicated to the sale.

Once a person was asked to step into this brutal century, anything could happen