We White People Think That We Know

The Acorn Of Ambition Often Grows Into An Oak From Which Men Hang.

It Is A Hard Thing When One Has Shot Sixty-five Lions Or More, As I Have In The Course Of My Life, That The Sixty-sixth Should Chew Your Leg Like A Quid Of Tobacco. It Breaks The Routine Of The Thing, And Putting Other Considerations Aside, I Am An Orderly Man And Don't Like That. This Is By The Way.

And Now Let Us Love And Take That Which Is Given Us, And Be Happy; For In The Grave There Is No Love And No Warmth, Nor Any Touching Of The Lips. Nothing Perchance, Or Perchance But Bitter Memories Of What Might Have Been.

We Were Like Confirmed Opium-eaters: In Our Moments Of Reason We Well Knew The Deadly Nature Of Our Pursuit, But We Certainly Were Not Prepared To Abandon Its Terrible Delights.

There Is No Such Things As Magic, Though There Is Such A Thing As Knowledge Of The Hidden Ways Of Nature.