Daughter Am I In My Mother's House,

Delight In The Little Things.

Men, Not Children Or Servants, Tempered And Taught To The End; Cleansed Of Servile Panic, Slow To Dread Or Despise, Humble Because Of Knowledge, Mighty By Sacrifice.

For Undemocratic Reasons And For Motives Not Of State, They Arrive At Their Conclusions, Largely Inarticulate. Being Void Of Self-expression They Confide Their Views To None; But Sometimes In A Smoking Room, One Learns Why Things Were Done.

Good Lord! Who Can Account For The Fathomless Folly Of The Public?

If You Want Something And Don't Get It, There Are Only Two Reasons. You Either Really Didn't Want It, Or You Tried To Bargain Over The Price.