Satire is a lesson, parody is a game.

My little cup brims with tiddles.

Those Eggheadsareterrible Philistines. A realgood head is not oval but round.

A change of environment is the traditional fallacy upon which doomed loves, and lungs, rely.

There is an old American saying 'He who lives in a glass house should not try to kill two birds with one stone.

But that mimosa grove-the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since-until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another.

I cannot help feeling there is something essentially wrong about love. Friends may quarrel or drift apart, close relations too, but there is not this pang, this pathos, this fatality which clings to love. Friendship never has that doomed look. Why, what is the matter? I have not stopped loving you, but because I cannot go on kissing your dim dear face, we must part, we must part.