That fiery doctor who had hailed me friend, Did it because my by-paths, once proved wrong And beaconed properly, would commend again The good old ways our sires jogged safely o’er, Though not their squeamish sons; […]

She sigh'd, she sobb'd, and, furious with despair, / She rent her garments, and she tore her hair.

For the most part, Hefner's female companions all adhered to the same mold: twentysomething, bosomy and blonde. Well, I guess I know what I like, he once said when asked about his preferences.

And he shall judge among the nations, and shall rebuke many people: and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.