Good Lord! Who Can Account For The

At Two O'clock In The Morning, If You Open Your Window And Listen, You Will Hear The Feet Of The Wind That Is Going To Call The Sun. And The Trees In The Shadow Rustle And The Trees In The Moonlight Glisten, And Though It Is Deep, Dark Night, You Feel That The Night Is Done.

Those Who Only Know England Know Not England.

Fiction Is Truth's Elder Sister. Obviously. No One In The World Knew What Truth Was Till Some One Had Told A Story.

If You Can Meet With Triumph And Disaster And Treat Those Two Impostors Just The Same.

It Is Always A Temptation To A Rich And Lazy Nation, To Puff And Look Important And To Say:- 'though We Know We Should Defeat You, We Have Not The Time To Meet You, We Will Therefore Pay You Cash To Go Away.'