Sir, life is as monotonous as the curvilinear concubitant wave of the peristaltic motion of a dilated cell. It is as tense as the state existing among the molecules of a highly compressed gas. As barren as the deserts of Africa where plants never grow. As gloomy as the thoughts of a thousand eunuchs on the death of Cleopatra. As hopeless as the crew of Christopher Columbus panic-stricken in the sea of darkness. As discouraging as the graceful shape of the adiabatic curve. As smooth as the sine curve, endless as the parabola, stubborn as the catenary, and meaningless as an imaginary function. Its memory brings an extraordinary sensation which tickles the convolutions of the brain and the cells of the spinal cord. In plain and simple language, life is a conglomeration of things too serious for a fool to appreciate, Sir.