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The philosopher's treatment of a question
is like the treatment of an illness.
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The Phone Booth Rule:
A lone dime always gets the number nearly right.
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The Pig, if I am not mistaken,
Gives us ham and pork and Bacon.
Let others think his heart is big,
I think it stupid of the Pig.
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The pitcher wound up and he flang the ball at the batter. The batter swang
and missed. The pitcher flang the ball again and this time the batter
connected. He hit a high fly right to the center fielder. The center
fielder was all set to catch the ball, but at the last minute his eyes were
blound by the sun and he dropped it.
-- Dizzy Dean
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The plural of spouse is spice.
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The Poems, all three hundred of them,
may be summed up in one of their phrases:
"Let our thoughts be correct".
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The Poet Whose Badness Saved His Life
The most important poet in the seventeenth century was George
Wither. Alexander Pope called him "wretched Wither" and Dryden said of his
verse that "if they rhymed and rattled all was well".
In our own time, "The Dictionary of National Biography" notes that his
work "is mainly remarkable for its mass, fluidity and flatness. It usually
lacks any genuine literary quality and often sinks into imbecile doggerel".
High praise, indeed, and it may tempt you to savour a typically
rewarding stanza: It is taken from "I loved a lass" and is concerned with
the higher emotions.
She would me "Honey" call,
She'd -- O she'd kiss me too.
But now alas! She's left me
Falero, lero, loo.
Among other details of his mistress which he chose to immortalize
was her prudent choice of footwear.
The fives did fit her shoe.
In 1639 the great poet's life was endangered after his capture by
the Royalists during the English Civil War. When Sir John Denham, the
Royalist poet, heard of Wither's imminent execution, he went to the King and
begged that his life be spared. When asked his reason, Sir John replied,
"Because that so long as Wither lived, Denham would not be accounted the
worst poet in England."
-- Stephen Pile, "The Book of Heroic Failures"
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The poetry of heroism appeals irresitably to those who don't go to a war,
and even more so to those whom the war is making enormously wealthy."
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The point is, you see, that there is no point in driving yourself mad
trying to stop yourself going mad. You might just as well give in and
save your sanity for later.
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The polite thing to do has always been to address people as they wish to be
addressed, to treat them in a way they think dignified. But it is equally
important to accept and tolerate different standards of courtesy, not
expecting everyone else to adapt to one's own preferences. Only then can
we hope to restore the insult to its proper social function of expressing
-- Judith Martin, "Miss Manners' Guide to Excruciatingly