I See No Objection To Stoutness, In

Bind Up Their Wounds - But Look The Other Way.

When Every Blessed Thing You Have Is Made Of Silver, Or Of Gold, You Long For Simple Pewter.

I Love My Fellow Creatures - I Do All The Good I Can - Yet Everybody Says I'm Such A Disagreeable Man!

Strike The Concertina's Melancholy String! Blow The Spirit-stirring Harp Like Any Thing! Let The Piano's Martial Blast Rouse The Echoes Of The Past

As Is Gloriously Sung In The Gilbert And Sullivan Operetta "h.m.s. Pinafore," In The Words Of W. S. Gilbert: "things Are Seldom As They Seem, Skim Milk Masquerades As Cream."