Great Men Are But Life-sized. Most Of

Fate Weaves The Darkness, Which Is Perhaps Why She Weaves So Badly.

Not Philosophy, After All, Not Humanity, Just Sheer Joyous Power Of Song, Is The Primal Thing In Poetry.

I Believe The Twenty-four Hour Day Has Come To Stay.

People Seem To Think There Is Something Inherently Noble And Virtuous In The Desire To Go For A Walk.

Undergraduates Owe Their Happiness Chiefly To The Consciousness That They Are No Longer At School. The Nonsense Which Was Knocked Out Of Them At School Is All Put Gently Back At Oxford Or Cambridge.