From now on our troubles will be out of sight...
¡Aunque resucites... ya valiste madres!
You'd think it was a high school football factory. You'll find it's much more.
A brilliant cross-section of life and love in modern high society, in which a butterfly wife's fluttering wings almost touch the alluring but consuming flames. (Print Ad-Times-Union, ((Albany NY)) 27 December 1924)
We're not here to go camping...
We're all victims of our urges...