The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 14, Issue 4 (July 1, 1939)
To-Day is the day of debunkerdom. Myth is no more. Romance has been shot up and brought down. Science has machine-gunned Illusion. Cupid has fallen to cupidity.
Take love—but take it with a grain of salt and cut out the sugar.
Time was when love was a finger-post to fairyland; now it is a traffic warning to mooterists. Once we imagined that love was a mystical migration from which one returned either double or quits. We were brave in our belief that affinities were drawn together as irresistibly as flies to treacle, and collided in a florescent flurry of kitchen teas and marble clocks, flitting and “flatting.” It was a magic melting of egos in the stock-pot of bliss. It was a heavenly hiatus when Time stood still, but time-payment moved on. Love transformed us—and how!
But usually all we experienced was a gentle oozing away of consciousness in which we were incapable of normal living and were shunned by the sane. We believed dimly that somewhere there was a common world where people walked on their feet and sued each other. But not for us. We were as happy as a comatose cow.