Don’t eat either British or Spanish tomatoes out of season; don’t cold store apples, dry them in the sun instead; don’t ever eat dairy products; and give your true love a bouquet of in-season root vegetables for Valentine’s Day.
“If what the staffers are now saying about Palin is true (and I’m not convinced it is, but it is certainly being reported that way), it means that the man who ran a campaign under the slogan “Country First” while traveling on the “Straight Talk Express” told the nation with reckless disregard for the potentially disastrous consequences that a patently and dangerously unqualified candidate was prepared to be president in his stead, if necessary. And if what the staffers are now saying about Palin is not true, it means that the man who told us over and over and over that he is a man of honor and integrity is letting his former running mate be smeared in a pathetic bid to save his own tattered reputation. The reality is that probably some of what is being said is true and some isn’t, which means that McCain is both colossally injurious liar and unctuous scoundrel. It would be nice if I heard half as much about that as I’ve heard about Sarah Palin’s wardrobe dysfunction.”—
“It’s terrific that we are seeing a decline in racism to the extent that we are able to elect a black president. We’ve come a long way and there’s no taking anything away from those who waged the struggle over all these centuries. But our society is not truly changed if it’s still writing discrimination into law.”—Bittersweet
“I love this word decadence, all shimmering in purple and gold. It suggests the subtle thoughts of ultimate civilization, a high literary culture, a soul capable of intense pleasures. It throws off bursts of fire and the sparkle of precious stones. It is redolent of the rouge of courtesans, the games of the circus, the panting of the gladiators, the spring of wild beasts, the consuming in flames of races exhausted by their capacity for sensation, as the tramp of an invading army sounds.”—Paul Verlaine
“McCain makes air scare-quotes around the “health of the mother”, with regard to late-term abortion exceptions. The “pro-abortion movement”, he says, has stretched that term to mean “almost anything”. Ah, yes. Hello there, Straw-Woman Who Gets Abortions Willy-Nilly in Her Third Trimester Because She’s a Silly Flibbertigibbet With a Hangnail. Nice to see you again. If McCain hasn’t reached the nadir of his appalling campaign with that moment, I don’t want to see it when he does.”—
Dear Evelyn: Your letter was waiting for me when I came home, but was not the less interesting because I had seen you in the meantime. We usually say more in a letter than we do in conversation, the reason being that, in a letter, we feel that we are shielded from the indifference or enthusiasm which our remarks may meet with or arouse. We commit our thoughts, as it were, to the winds. Whereas, in conversation, we are constantly watching or noting the effect of what we are saying, and, when the relations are intimate, we shrink from being taken too seriously on one hand, and, on the other not seriously enough— But people no longer write letters. Lacking the leisure and, for the most part, the ability, they dictate dispatches, and scribble messages…In these days, we have not the artlessness nor the freedom of our forbears. We know too much about ourselves. Constraint covers us like a curtain. Not being very sure of our own feelings, we are in a fog about the feelings of others. And it really is too bad that it should be so.
Joel Chandler Harris, letter to his son, 5 April 1900.