You tell yourself it is seasoned champagne.

Your liver next morning says it is not.
The daemon within us means well, but forgets it is not the only thing there.

A man I knew was an enthusiast on vegetarianism.

He argued that if the poor would adopt a vegetarian diet the problem of existence would be simpler for them, and maybe he was right.

So one day he assembled some twenty poor lads for the purpose of introducing to them a vegetarian lunch.