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Quotes & anecdotes from "The Portable Curmudgeon"

Eternal suffering awaits anyone who questions God's infinite love.
Bill Hicks, comedian and social critic (1961-1994)

I showed my appreciation of my native land in the usual Irish way by
getting out of it as soon as I possibly could.
                                                           George Bernard Shaw
the Irish are a fair people--they never speak well of one another.
                                                          Samuel Johnson
The Jews are a frightened people. Nineteen centuries of Christian love
have broken down their nerves.              Israel Zangwill

A jury consists of twelve persons chosen to decide who has the better
lawyer.                                                           Robert Frost

Most people are sick. but only few know that this is something they
can be proud of. These are the psychoanalysts.            Karl Kraus

To die for an idea is to set a rather high price on conjecture.
Anatole France

Justice, n. A commodity which in a more or less adulterated condition
the state sells to the citizen as a rewrd for his allegiance, taxes and
personal service.                                                             Ambrose Bierce

A woman usually respects her father, but her view of her husband is
mingled with contempt, for she is of course privy to the transparent
devices by which she snared him.                     H.L. Mencken

A husband is what's left of the lover once the nerve has been extracted
                                                                     Helen Rowland

A woman who takes her husband about with her everywhere is like a
cat that goes on playing with a mouse long after she's killed it.
Saki

Lady Astor: If you were my husband, Winston, I'd put poison in your tea.
Winston Churchill: If I were your husband, Nancy, I'd drink it.

An ounce of hypocrisy is worth a pound of ambition.
Michael Korda

The history of ideas is the history of the grudges of solitary men.
E. M. Cioran
Idealism is fine, but as it approaches reality the cost becomes
prohibitive.                                                                   William F. Buckley, Jr.

Humanity is a pigsty where liars, hypocrites and the obscene in spirit
congregate.                                         George Moore

There are times when you have to choose between being human and
having good taste.                              Bertolt Brecht

People are far more sincere and good-humored at speeding their
parting guests than on meeting them.                Anton Chekov

Kill one man and you're a murderer. Kill millions and you are a
conqueror. Kill all and you are a God.                jean Rostand

This photo was taken only days before my beloved San Francisco
store, Sherlock's Haven was closed for good in June of '06, thereby
diminishing the quality of life on this planet no little and quite some.
The man to my right was my trusty pipe tobacco and cigar taste-tester,
Johnson, of the sensitive palate. He is now plying his trade in Phoenix.
The tall gent behind him is Jimmy Walker, hand picked to be my
successor until lease negotiations broke down. The hoodlum looking
character to my left is my good friend and Consigliere, Steve Brunner.
Among the regulars are a number who are still friends with whom I
have regular intercourse. There has never been a more congenial spot
than Sherlock's Haven, the Camelot of tobacco stores. As its
proprietor is how I'd like to be remembered.

I wanted to caption this photo, "I knew more about pipes when I was
seven than you know now," but my P.R. firm nixed that idea. So, let's
try, "With the pristine palate that accompanies youth, Marty smokes a
blend without a full complement of Latakia for the first time in his life."
I don't actually know what was going through my mind at the time, but
the photo was taken circa 1950, and probably in Williamsburg, Virginia.
(And no, I did not actually smoke a pipe until I was 18 years old, really.)

Shortly after my mother met my wife, she told Joy that all it took to
keep me happy in the back seat of our 1938 LaSalle during our annual
one week vacations was a pipe in my mouth and a cap on my head.
Joy responded with the fact that nothing has changed except that now
I'm in the front seat.
Above is my sister, with whom I contentiously shared that large back
seat, and my father. The sweater was knitted by my Aunt Rae. The
site was most probably Niagara Falls and the year 1949. I'm guessing.

Welcome to Pulvers Briar
This website is devoted to pipes and my enjoyment of talking
about and showing them. For your part, I hope you derive some
pleasure in seeing and reading about briar and meerschaum
pipes.
There are plenty of pipe websites and lots of good pipes other
than mine. What will distinguish my site from most of the others
is the willingness to voice my opinion in the relatively rare
occurrence when a pipe is not superior, or has a noticeable flaw.
Mostly, I'm pleased with the pipes I choose to offer for sale, both
in pipe quality and price. But please, look and decide for
yourself.
You will see new and used pipes for sale, the new often having
been hand picked and the used always having been cleaned
and reconditioned and ready for you to smoke upon arrival.
Please enjoy your time spent here today, and please come back
again.
I'm almost always happy to hear from you and to field your
questions, concerns, ideas or other input.
Feel free to write.
Marty Pulvers