My dear, Political jokes are hilarious. There’s no way anyone can honestly take them seriously, right? So why not just laugh and leave them be. What harm can they do? Right?… The problem with political jokes is they get elected. Falsely yours, Henry Cate...

My dear, I’m not my name. My name is something I wear, like a shirt. It gets worn. I outgrow it, I change it. A name shouldn’t restrict a person. In fact, the exact opposite – it should give them something to aim towards. Something bigger and better. A name that has to live up to a person is like a shoe two sizes too small. A person with a name they have to live up to, now that’s a right fit. Falsely yours, Jerry...

My dear, Don’t ever ever give me a clean shirt. I’ll immediately start questioning everything. I’m maniac like that. Why is that shirt so clean? Is it because it’s that new? And if it’s that new, why are people giving it to me? Why do they think I deserve a completely new clean shirt? Why don’t they keep it for themselves? What are they gaining by giving me a clean shirt and not keeping it for...

My dear, Mediocrity is like a spot on your shirt, it never comes off. The only way to get rid of it is to strip completely and publicly naked, and to wander the world until you find a shirts that’s perfectly clean. Clean in the sense that it’s absolutely free from any excuses of why to do things normally, or why anything is ‘good enough’. Clean in the sense that it’s a shirt that says that absolute cleanliness...

My dear, I have a problem with monogameous relationships. I really don’t think that one person can suit all the needs of another. Sometimes we want to be cared for, sometimes we want to be told what to do, something we want to be the teller, sometimes we want to have fun and go out, and sometimes we just want to keep all that fun in the bedroom. I hardly think one person can easily be all of these personalities at a moments whim...

My dear, A man’s car price is not a measure of how much self-respect he has for himself. A man’s house size is not a measure of his self-respect. And same goes for a man’s wardrobe. There are other measures of self-respect for a man, than the number of clean shirts he puts on every day. Measuring a man’s self-respect is not that easy. (You’re going to have to put in time and work.) You’ll have to observe...

My dear, Literature is about as unnecessarily necessarily as tableware or ironed shirts. A loss of tableware and an un-ironed shirt will not kill you. And the same goes for a lack of literature. Literature, like tableware and ironed shirts, is an add-on. You can eat with your hands, sure; you can wear un-ironed shirts, sure; and you can surely choose not to read; but once you have the bare necessities, once you have the table and the shirt...

My dear, There’s no such thing as love at first sight. The physics of love don’t allow it. In poetically scientific terms love is the longest experiment on the longest thesis every made. Love is a hardship. It’s not the perfect equation, love is the time put in to find that perfect equation. There’s no such thing as love at first sight. Love is what you’ve been through with somebody. Falsely yours, James...

My dear, The art of love is largely the art of persistence. It’s exactly like success in business. The people with the most love are usually the people who’ve failed the most at it too. But they kept on going. A good business man is always first, an entrepreneur; they build their business from the ground up, fight against all the odds, suffer immensely, sacrifice a lot, lose a lot, lose sleep and friends and money and health,...

My dear, Without love, the rich and poor live in the same house. An empty house, a lonely house, a quiet house. A house unlived in. A house too big for any one person to live in. … A dead house, a haunted house. Falsely yours, A....