Any Belief Worth Having Must Survive Doubt

You Know, Tolstoy, Like Myself, Wasn't Taken In By Superstitions Like Science And Medicine.

Your Wits Can't Thicken In That Soft Moist Air, On Those White Springy Roads, In Those Misty Rushes And Brown Bogs, On Those Hillsides Of Granite Rocks And Magenta Heather. You've No Such Colours In The Sky, No Such Lure In The Distances, No Such Sadness In The Evenings. Oh The Dreaming! The Dreaming! The Torturing, Heart-scalding, Never Satisfying Dreaming, Dreaming, Dreaming, Dreaming!

Success Covers A Multitude Of Blunders.

The British Churchgoer Prefers A Severe Preacher Because He Thinks A Few Home Truths Will Do His Neighbors No Harm.

Though The Life Force Supplies Us With Its Own Purpose, It Has No Other Brains To Work With Than Those It Has Painfully And Imperfectly Evolved In Our Heads.