This from an ad, of all things, for Bauman Rare Books on Madison Avenue:
“My books are water. Those of the great geniuses are wine.
“Everybody drinks water.”
–– Mark Twain
And a reminder from three quarters of a century ago that detective stories need not be one-dimensional genre fiction. Archie Goodwin, sent by Nero Wolfe to size up a diamond theft in a dance and fencing studio, meets the owner and his wife:
“He was small and thin but wiry looking and had black eyes and hair and a moustache which pointed due east and west. He looked and acted harassed, and as soon as he shook hands with me darted off somewhere. His wife, in spite of her New York clothes and hair-do, looked like one of those color pictures in the National Geographic entitled, Peasant Woman of Wcczibbrcy Leading a Bear to Church.”
— Rex Stout,
in Over My Dead Body
Finally, from Barb, who has been rummaging around in the annals of etymology:
In 1770, English explorer Captain James Cook landed in Australia and asked the Aborigines what they called the large marsupials indigenous to the continent. He was told “kangaroo”, which, unbeknownst to Cook, is Aborigine for “I don’t know”.
–– Joe Green