The satirist shoots to kill while the humorist brings his prey back alive and eventually releases him again for another chance.
Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.
Let us hope, I prayed, that a kind Providence will put a speedy end to the acts of God under which we have been laboring.
What we are assigned to bear is in a sense a measure of our stature.
Do you believe in astrology? -I don't even believe in astronomy.
My father hated radio and could not wait for television to be invented so he could hate that too.