I wonder often what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

"Drink took to me," said Simple. "Whiskey just naturally likes me but beer likes me better."

I liked the taste of beer, its live, white lather, its brass-bright depths, the sudden world through the wet-brown walls of the glass, the tilted rush to the lips and the slow swallowing down to the lapping belly, the salt on the tongue, the foam at the corners.

She is dressed to feel dangerous, perfumed to exude suggestions of nights in Babylon, and painted to drive men insane. How can she possibly avoid facing up to the terrible chasm between dream and reality when, in this musky state of mind, she must sit at a formica bar and squeeze mustard out of a plastic bottle?

Clothes and manners do not make the man; but, when he is made, they greatly improve his appearance.

From the cradle to the coffin underwear comes first.

Probably every new and eagerly expected garment ever put on since clothes came in, fell a trifle short of the wearer's expectation.

Any man may be in good spirits and good temper when he's well dressed. There an't much credit in that.

We know, Mr. Weller-we, who are men of the world-that a good uniform must work its way with the women, sooner or later.

Know, first, who you are; and then adorn yourself accordingly.