• My Dream
  • _This is my dream,

It is my own dream, I dreamt it. I dreamt that my hair was kempt. Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it. _

• Just Keep Quiet and Nobody Will Notice
  • _There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges,

Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies. I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet, Because I think that is sort of sweet; No, I object to one kind of apology alone, Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own. You go to their house for a meal, And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal; They apologize privately for the crudeness of the other guests, And they apologzie publicly for their wife's housekeeping or their husband's jests; If they give you a book by Dickens they apologize because it isn't by Scott, And if they take you to the theater, they apologize for the acting and the dialogue and the plot; They contain more milk of human kindness than the most capacious diary can, But if you are from out of town they apologize for everything local and if you are a foreigner they apologize for everything American. I dread these apologizers even as I am depicting them, I shudder as I think of the hours that must be spend in contradicting them, Because you are very rude if you let them emerge from an argument victorious, And when they say something of theirs is awful, it is your duty to convince them politely that it is magnificent and glorious, And what particularly bores me with them, Is that half the time you have to politely contradict them when you rudely agree with them, So I think there is one rule every host and hostess ought to keep with the comb and nail file and bicarbonate and aromatic spirits on a handy shelf, Which is don't spoil the denouement by telling the guests everything is terrible, but let them have the thrill of finding it out for themselves._

• More About People
  • _When people aren't asking question

They're making suggestions And when they're not doing one of those They're either looking over your shoulder or stepping on your toes And then as if that weren't enough to annoy you They employ you. Anybody at leisure Incurs everybody's displeasure. It seems to be very irking To people at work to see other people not working, So they tell you that work is wonderful medicine, Just look at Firestone and Ford and Edison, And they lecture you till they're out of breath or something And then if you don't succumb they starve you to death or something. All of which results in a nasty quirk: That if you don't want to work you have to work to earn enough money so that you won't have to work._

• Reflections on Ice-Breaking
  • Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker
• Come on in, The Senility is Fine

People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa, But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa. The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild, You only have to live until your child has a child. From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder, Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes thirty years older. Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of imbecility, It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of the responsibility. This is the most enticing spiderwebs of a tarradiddle ever spun, Because everybody would love to have a baby around who was no responsibility and lots of fun, But I can think of no one but a mooncalf or a gaby Who would trust their own child to raise a baby. So you have to personally superintend your grandchild from diapers to pants and from bottle to spoon, Because you know that your own child hasn't sense enough to come in out of a typhoon. You don't have to live forever to become a grampa, but if you do want to live forever, Don't try to be clever; If you wish to reach the end of the trail with an uncut throat, Don't go around saying Quote I don't mind being a grampa but I hate being married to a gramma Unquote.

• I Do, I Will, I Have

How wise I am to have instructed the butler to instruct the first footman to instruct the second footman to instruct the doorman to order my carriage; I am about to volunteer a definition of marriage. Just as I know that there are two Hagens, Walter and Copen, I know that marriage is a legal and religious alliance entered into by a man who can't sleep with the window shut and a woman who can't with the window open. Moreover, just as I am unsure of the difference between flora and fauna and flotsam and jetsam, I am quite sure that marriage is the alliance of two people one of whom never remembers birthdays and the other never forgetsam, And he refuses to believe there is a leak in the water pipe or the gas pipe and she is convinced she is about to asphyxiate or drown, And she says Quick get up and get my hairbrushes off the windowsill, it's raining in, and he replies Oh they're all right, it's only raining straight down. That is why marriage is so much more interesting than divorce, Because it's the only known example of the happy meeting of the immovable object and the irresistible force. So I hope husbands and wives will continue to debate and combat over everything debatable and combatable, Because I believe a little incompatibility is the spice of life, particulary if he has income and she is pattable.

• To My Valentine

More than a catbird hates a cat, Or a criminal hates a clue, Or the Axis hates the United States, That's how much I love you. I love you more than a duck can swim, And more than a grapefruit squirts, I love you more than a gin rummy is a bore, And more than a toothache hurts. As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea, Or a juggler hates a shove, As a hostess detests unexpected guests, That's how much you I love. I love you more than a wasp can sting, And more than the subway jerks, I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch, And more than a hangnail irks. I swear to you by the stars above, And below, if such there be, As the High Court loathes perjurious oathes, That's how you're loved by me.

• The Romantic Age

This one is entering her teens, Ripe for sentimental scenes, Has picked a gangling unripe male, Sees herself in a bridal veil, Presses lips and tosses head, Declares she's not too young to wed, Informs you pertly you forget Romeo and Juliet. Do not argue, do not shout; Remind her how that one turned out.

• Soliloquy in Circles

Being a father Is quite a bother. You are as free as air With time to spare, You're a fiscal rocket With change in your pocket, And then one morn A child is born. Your life has been runcible, Irresponsible, Like an arrow or javelin You've been constantly travelin'. But mostly, I daresay, Without a chaise percée, To which by comparison Nothing's embarison. But all children matures, Maybe even yours. You improve them mentally And straighten them dentally, They grow tall as a lancer And ask questions you can't answer, And supply you with data About how everybody else wears lipstick sooner and stays up later, And if they are popular, The phone they monopular. They scorn the dominion Of their parent's opinion, They're no longer corralable Once they find that you're fallible But after you've raised them and educated them and gowned them, They just take their little fingers and wrap you around them. Being a father Is quite a bother, But I like it, rather.

• Reflection on the Fallibiity of Nemesis

He who is ridden by a conscience Worries about a lot of nonscience; He without benefit of scruples His fun and income soon quadruples.