Mark Twain had a proclivity for swearing—at the slightest provocation or frustration, he would let forth a stream of profanities that would singe the ears. His long-suffering wife, Livy, thought she would try to break his swearing habit by showing him how unbecoming such outbursts were. The next time she dropped or spilled something, she let loose a burst of profanity that she had carefully memorized from having all too often heard those words coming from her husband’s mouth.
Twain did not skip a beat. He looked calmly at his wife and said, “Dear, you have the words, but you lack the melody.”
