19 Twain was tired of receiving photographs from men claiming to be his double. To cope with the heavy correspondence this entailed he composed the following form letter and had his printer run off a few hundred copies: “My dear Sir, I thank you very much for your letter and your photograph. In my opinion you are more like me than any other of my numerous doubles. I may even say that you resemble me more closely than I do myself. In fact, I intend to use your picture to shave by. Yours thankfully, S. Clemens.”
20 “In a world without women,” Twain was once asked, “what would men become?” “Scarce, sir,” replied Twain. “Mighty scarce.”
21 In later life Mark Twain suffered periodically from bronchitis and arthritis. Whenever the newspapers reported that he had had another attack, well-wishers would send him prescriptions, remedies, nostrums, and elixirs of life in the hope of bringing about his recovery. He had a standard reply for acknowledging these unsolicited items: “Dear Sir (or Madam), I try every remedy sent to me. I am now on No. 87. Yours is 2,653. I am looking forward to its beneficial results.”
22 Twain remembered his childhood as one of constant illness. Besides having to live on medicine until he was seven, he recalled that his family thought of him as a “precarious and tiresome and uncertain child.” When his mother was in her eighties, he asked her whether she had worried about him. “Yes, the whole time,” she told him. “Afraid that I wouldn’t live?” he asked. After a pause, she replied, “No, afraid you would.”
23 When Mark Twain was born in November 1835, Halley’s comet blazed in the night sky. Twain often referred to this, and came to think of himself and the comet as “unaccountable freaks” which, having come in together, must go out together. He was right: when he died in April 1910, Halley’s comet was again in the sky.
TYLER, Anne (1941–), US novelist.
1 Tyler was standing in a schoolyard waiting for one of her children when another mother approached her. “Have you found work yet?” she asked. “Or are you still just writing?
TYSON, Mike (1966–), US boxer, world heavyweight champion.
1 Tyson was known for his savage, sudden knockouts — and for the pain he inflicted on his opponents. “This is about hurt,” Tyson said. “It doesn’t matter whether you be a Kennedy, a Rockefeller, a Donald Trump — you come to see someone get hurt.” Only a few of his opponents survived on their feet. Many did not make it to the second round. When Pinklon Thomas entered the ring to fight Tyson, Thomas’s trainer looked at Tyson and said to the other assistant, “You take the head and I’ll take the feet.”
U
UCCELLO, Paolo (1397–1475), Italian painter and craftsman.
1 Uccello’s fascination with perspective kept him up all night drawing elaborate polygons and other figures. When his wife tried to get him to come to bed, he responded, “What a delightful thing this perspective is!”
ULBRICHT, Walther (1893–1973), East German statesman.
1 Extolling the glories of the East German state, Ulbricht declared: “The millennium is on the horizon.”
“That was a wonderful speech,” an aide said to him afterward. “But is the millennium truly on the horizon?”
“Of course,” said Ulbricht. “Don’t you know the dictionary defines ‘horizon’ as ‘an imaginary line which recedes as you approach it’?”
UNTERMEYER, Louis (1885–1977), US poet and writer.
1 Untermeyer once returned his speaker’s fee to a small and impoverished group, enjoining them to put the money to good use. A little while later, happening to inquire what good use they had found for the money, he was told that they had put it into “a fund to get better speakers next year.”
2 At a New Year’s Eve costume party Louis Untermeyer entered fully into the spirit of the thing, donning a funny paper hat and making an uproarious racket upon a horn. A student walked up, looked closely at him, then turned on her heel, snorting contemptuously, “And he’s Required Reading!”
UNZELMANN, Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand (1753–1832), German actor and singer.
1 When Unzelmann was playing at the Berlin theater, the other actors found his ad libs so distracting that the management told him to stop. The following night, as he made his entrance on horseback, the horse committed an indiscretion. Laughter spread through the audience. “Don’t you remember,” said Unzelmann sternly to his steed, “that we are forbidden to improvise?”
URBAN VIII (1568–1644), Italian pope (1632–44).
1 A member of the aristocratic Barberini family of Florence, Urban loved architecture and was a patron of Bernini. In 1632 he had inscribed on the Pantheon, “Pantheon, the most celebrated edifice in the whole world,” after which he stripped the Pantheon of the bronze from its roof beams to use in one of his own projects. Said a Roman wit, “Quod non fecerunt barbari fecerunt Barberini” (What was not done by the barbarians was done by the Barberinis).
USTINOV, Peter (1921–), British actor, director, playwright, and raconteur.
1 As a father taking his very well brought-up young daughter to the opera for the first time, Ustinov was unwise enough to choose the Baths of Caracalla in Rome. The opera was Aida: during one particular scene the whole stage seemed to be covered with animals — camels, elephants, horses, unwanted cats, and so on. At a climactic point, almost all the animals relieved themselves simultaneously. As he stared aghast at this incredible sight, Ustinov felt a light tapping on his shoulder, and his daughter’s earnest voice — “Daddy, is it all right if I laugh?”
2 Ustinov once received an irate letter from the headmaster of his son’s school. The boy persistently played the fool in lessons, making his classmates laugh, and it was felt that Ustinov should use his influence to control the child. Ustinov reminded the headmaster that the only reason he was able to afford the school’s high fees was that he was paid for doing precisely the same thing.
V
VAN BUREN, Martin (1782–1862), US politician, 8th President of the United States (1837– 41).
1 Van Buren was so obnoxious to the southern states that he received only nine popular votes there in his 1848 campaign, all from Virginia. His supporters raised a cry of fraud. “Yes, fraud,” said a Virginian, “and we are still looking for the son-of-a-bitch who voted nine times.”
VANDERBILT, Alice (c. 1845-c. 1930), wife of Cornelius Vanderbilt II, the financier.
1 While having luncheon one day at the old Ambassador Hotel with her son Reggie and his new second wife, Gloria, Alice Vanderbilt enquired whether Gloria had received her pearls. When Reggie answered that he had not yet bought any because the only pearls worthy of his bride were far beyond his price, his mother calmly ordered that a pair of scissors be brought to her. When the scissors arrived, she proceeded to cut off about one-third of her own pearls, worth some $70,000, and handed them to her daughter-in-law. “There you are, Gloria,” she said. “All Vanderbilt women have pearls.”
VANDERBILT, Cornelius (1794–1875), US businessman, nicknamed “Commodore.”
1 After a prolonged absence from his office the commodore returned to find that Charles Morgan and C. K. Garrison, his associates in the Accessory Transit Company, had taken advantage of the power of attorney he had vested in them and had done considerable damage to his interests. Recovering from his initial rage, Vanderbilt dictated the following letter to them: “Gentlemen: You have undertaken to cheat me. I won’t sue you, for the law is too slow. I’ll ruin you.”
2 One of Vanderbilt’s sons-in-law, needing $50,000 to set up a business, approached the commodore for the loan. The old man inquired how much he expected to make from the investment. “About five thousand a year,” was the reply. “I can do better than that with fifty thousand dollars,” said Vanderbilt. “Tell you what I’ll do. I’ll pay you five thousand a year hereafter, and you may consider yourself in my employ at that salary.”
3 Cornelius Vanderbilt was an admirer of the famous and unconventional Woodhull sisters, one of whose interests was spiritualism. In his seventies he express
ed a wish to get financial advice from his dear friend, Jim Fiske. Victoria Woodhull offered to contact his spirit. In the ensuing séance she managed to materialize the spirit of Vanderbilt’s dead wife, Sophia. The old man was not interested. “Business before pleasure,” he declared. “Let me speak to Jim.”
VANDERBILT, William Henry (1821–85), US railroad magnate, son of Cornelius Vanderbilt.
1 William asked if could buy the manure from his father’s horse-car stables to enrich his land at New Drop on Staten Island. The elder Vanderbilt agreed, and the price was settled at $4 per load — a generous figure. A few weeks later, the commodore was surprised to learn from his son that only one load had been ferried across to the island; he had seen at least twenty wagonloads put on the scow. The younger Vanderbilt replied, “No, Father, I never let them put more than one load on at a time — one scow load, I mean.” Cornelius was quick to realize that his son’s talent could be put to better use and persuaded him to enter the world of finance.
2 A reporter cornered William Vanderbilt, head of the New York Central Railroad, declaring that the public had a right to know his mind on a particular issue. Vanderbilt pushed past him snapping, “The public be damned. I am working for my stockholders.”
3 After William Vanderbilt’s death his fortune was estimated at $200,000,000. Shortly before he died he said of this wealth, “I have had no real gratification or enjoyment of any sort more than my neighbor on the next block who is worth only half a million.”
VAN DOREN, Mark (1894–1972), US poet and literary critic.
1 A bore once blundered in uninvited to a literary gathering hosted by Mark Van Doren, and immediately spread a pall of dullness over the whole party. After his departure the interloper became the topic of discussion. Someone observed that it must be heartbreaking for someone like that to see the face of everyone to whom he spoke freeze with distaste and boredom. “You forget that a person like that has never encountered any other kind of expression,” said Van Doren.
2 A group of young men asked Van Doren what they should do with their lives. The professor was quite clear in his answer. “Whatever you want,” he told them, “just so long as you don’t miss the main thing!” When the young men asked what that was, he said simply, “Your own lives.”
VAN SLYKE, Andy (1960–), US baseball player.
1 During one bad year — 1989 — Van Slyke was unable to hit a ball. Nothing was hit-table, not easy lobs, not straight-on pitches. Van Slyke even tried not hitting, to defeat his demon, but to no effect. Asked about his slump, he said, “Right now, I couldn’t drive home Miss Daisy.”
VARAH, Chad (1911–), British clergyman.
1 When Chad Varah decided to start his telephone service for the despairing, he wanted to find a simple, easily remembered number that had something of an emergency feel about it. His center, in the crypt of the church of St. Stephen Walbrook, was in the Mansion House telephone area of London, so its telephone number would have the prefix MAN. Varah decided on MAN 9000. His next step was to find out from the Post Office whether the number was available for his use. Standing in the crypt, he noticed for the first time that there was a dusty old telephone in the corner. To his surprise, he found it was still working. He rang the Post Office telephone sales department and made his request. The Post Office clerk asked him from what number he was calling. Rubbing the center of the dial with his handkerchief, Varah was astounded to read the number — MAN 9000.
VATEL (?1622–71), French chef.
1 Louis XIV was to be the guest of honor at a dinner at Chantilly prepared by Vatel. The chef, having ordered a large quantity of fish from the nearest ports, rose early to inspect the quality of the fish as it was delivered. He found to his horror that only two hampers had been brought, not nearly enough for the royal party. “Is that all there is?” he asked. “Yes,” said the fishmonger, meaning that no more would be coming from his particular fishing fleet. Vatel misunderstood; he thought that there would be no more fish coming at all. “I cannot endure this disgrace,” he cried. Going to his room, he fixed his sword into the door and ran upon the point.
VEECK, Bill (1914–86), US baseball player and executive.
1 Veeck was asked for his take on the game of baseball; had it declined, or was it still the national pastime? “Baseball is the only game left for people,” he said. “To play basketball now, you have to be seven feet six inches. To play football, you have to be the same width.”
VEGA CARPIO, Lope Félix de (1562–1635), Spanish playwright and poet.
1 On his deathbed in 1635, Vega asked how much time he had left. Assured that his death was at hand, he murmured, “All right, then, I’ll say it: Dante makes me sick.”
VERDI, Giuseppe (1813–1901), Italian operatic composer.
1 Though patriotic Italians cheered Verdi at every performance, the enthusiasm was not solely ascribable to their devotion to grand opera. By a fortunate chance the composer’s surname was the acronym of a phrase dear to all Italian nationalists after 1861: “Vittorio Emmanuele, Re d’Italia.”
2 One summer Verdi rented a large cottage in a fashionable Italian resort. A visitor was somewhat surprised to find the composer apparently occupying only one room, which served as bedroom, sitting room, and study. “Why don’t you use the rest of the house?” he asked. Verdi took him into the other rooms; every one of them was packed to the ceiling with barrel organs — ninety-five in all. “They were all churning out operas of mine,” Verdi explained, “Rigoletto — Il Trovatore — and all the others. It was clearly impossible for me to work under such conditions, so I have hired the organs from their owners. It will cost me about fifteen hundred lire for the summer, but that is not too large a price to pay for peace.”
VERLAINE, Paul (1844–96), French poet, a precursor of the Symbolist movement.
1 Poet and painter F. A. Cazals, a friend of Verlaine, arranged to meet the poet at a café, but was unavoidably late. When he finally did arrive, he was a trifle nervous, for Verlaine drunk was unpredictable. A mutual friend met Cazals at the door and warned him that Verlaine, hopelessly drunk, was “furious with you.” Cazals entered to find Verlaine surrounded by his acolytes, but a little less drunk than he had been described. Cazals took courage: “I hear that you were abusing me just a few minutes ago.”
“Who told you that?” cried the furious Verlaine.
“Somebody you don’t know,” replied Cazals prudently.
“Somebody I don’t know!” exclaimed Verlaine. He began to weave his way through the crowded café. “I’m going outside, and the first passerby I don’t know, I’ll — I’ll — I’ll smash his jaw!”
VERRALL, Arthur Woollgar (1851–1912), British classical scholar.
1 A pupil of Verrall’s told him that mutual friends of theirs had moved to 58 Oakley Street and remarked that he was afraid that 58 would be a difficult number to remember. “Not at all,” Verrall contradicted him. “The Septuagint minus the Apostles.”
VESEY, Elizabeth (?1715–91), British society hostess.
1 In the late 1740s, Mrs. Vesey invited the naturalist Benjamin Stillingfleet to her salon at Bath. She countered his protest that he had no clothes suitable for such a fashionable gathering by assuring him he need not mind about dress. His arrival at the salon in blue worsted stockings caused some comment among the society leaders. Stillingfleet soon became a habitué, however, and so the salon gained the nickname of the “Blue Stocking Society.”
VESPASIAN [Titus Flavius Sabinus Vespasianus] (AD 9–79), Roman emperor (70–79).
1 Vespasian’s avarice was one of the few faults held against him. On one occasion a favorite servant of Vespasian’s asked for a stewardship for a man he claimed was his brother. Vespasian told him to wait and asked the candidate for the stewardship to come to him for a private interview. “How much commission would you have paid my servant?” he inquired. The applicant mentioned a sum. “You may pay that directly to me,” said the emperor and granted him the desired post. Later the
servant alluded to the matter, and Vespasian told him, “You’d better go and find yourself another brother. The one you mistook for yours turned out to be mine.”
2 Vespasian imposed taxes on many commodities to restore the Roman state to solvency; he even taxed Rome’s public urinals. When Vespasian’s son Titus objected to this tax as beneath the dignity of the state, Vespasian took a handful of coins obtained from this source and held them to his son’s nose, saying, “See, my boy, if they smell.”
3 The emperor once happened to meet, while traveling, the retinue of Demetrius the Cynic, who had been banished from Rome. Despite the visible power of the royal presence, Demetrius made no effort to acknowledge him, and instead barked out a rude comment. “Good dog!” said Vespasian, smiling, and rode on.
VICTOR AMADEUS II (1666–1732), Duke of Savoy (1675–1732).
1 In the eighteenth century the little kingdom of Sardinia suffered severely under the burden of taxation imposed by its ambitious rulers. Once Victor Amadeus on a journey stopped to ask a laboring peasant how he was faring. “Well, master, about as well as things can go in a holy land like ours.”
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