The English Are A Nation Of Consummate

I Am Not A Man, I Am Dynamite!

The People We Keep Standing In The Anteroom Of Our Favor Either Start Fermenting Or Turn Sour.

Be Careful When You Fight The Monsters, Lest You Become One.

The Thousand Mysteries Around Us Would Not Trouble But Interest Us, If Only We Had Cheerful, Healthy Hearts.

Love As A Passion—it Is Our European Specialty—must Absolutely Be Of Noble Origin; As Is Well Known, Its Invention Is Due To The Provencal Poet-cavaliers, Those Brilliant, Ingenious Men Of The "gai Saber," To Whom Europe Owes So Much, And Almost Owes Itself.