In Books We Never Find Anything But

I Never Can Understand How Anyone Can Not Smoke It Deprives A Man Of The Best Part Of Life. With A Good Cigar In His Mouth A Man Is Perfectly Safe, Nothing Can Touch Him, Literally.

A Solitary, Unused To Speaking Of What He Sees And Feels, Has Mental Experiences Which Are At Once More Intense And Less Articulate Than Those Of A Gregarious Man.

War Is Only A Cowardly Escape From The Problems Of Peace.

He Thought What A Fine Thing It Was That People Made Music All Over The World, Even In The Strangest Settings – Probably Even On Polar Expeditions.

And Then The Sly Arch-lover That He Was, He Said The Subtlest Thing Of All: That The Lover Was Nearer The Divine Than The Beloved; For The God Was In The One But Not In The Other - Perhaps The Tenderest, Most Mocking Thought That Ever Was Thought, And Source Of All The Guile And Secret Bliss The Lover Knows.