When Temptations March Monotonously In Regiments, One

Talk Ought Always To Run Obliquely, Not Nose To Nose With No Chance Of Mental Escape.

As Wounded Men May Limp Through Life, So Our War Minds May Not Regain The Balance Of Their Thoughts For Decades.

Literary People Are Forever Judging The Quality Of The Mind By The Turn Of Expression.

Politics Is A Place Of Humble Hopes And Strangely Modest Requirements, Where All Are Good Who Are Not Criminal And All Are Wise Who Are Not Ridiculously Otherwise.

Every Man Ought To Be Inquisitive Through Every Hour Of His Great Adventure Down To The Day When He Shall No Longer Cast A Shadow In The Sun. For If He Dies Without A Question In His Heart, What Excuse Is There For His Continuance?