If It Were Not For The War,

Fantasy Works Inwards Upon Its Author, Blurring The Boundary Between The Visioned And The Actual, And Associating Itself Ever Moreclosely With The Ego, So That The Child Who Has Fantasied Himself A Murderer Ends By Becoming A Loeb Or A Leopold. The Creative Imagination Works Outwards, Steadily Increasing The Gap Between The Visioned And The Actual, Till This Becomes The Great Gulf Fixed Between Art And Nature. Few Writers Of Crime-stories Become Murderers--if Any Do, It Is Not The Result Of Identifying Themselves With Their Murderous Heroes.

Heroics That Don't Come Off Are The Very Essence Of Burlesque.

Of Course, There Is Some Truth In Advertising. There's Yeast In Bread, But You Can't Make Bread With Yeast Alone. Truth In Advertising Is Like Leaven, Which A Woman Hid In Three Measures Of Meal. It Provides A Suitable Quantity Of Gas, With Which To Blow Out A Mass Of Crude Misrepresentation Into A Form That The Public Can Swallow.

The Best Remedy For A Bruised Heart Is Not, As So Many People Think, Repose Upon A Manly Bosom. Much More Efficacious Are Honest Work, Physical Activity, And The Sudden Acquisition Of Wealth.

What Do We Find God 'doing About' This Business Of Sin And Evil?...god Did Not Abolish The Fact Of Evil; He Transformed It. He Did Not Stop The Crucifixion; He Rose From The Dead.