Tristan And Isolde Were Lucky To Die

I Was Afraid And Did Not Know What I Feared, Which Is The Worst Kind Of Fear.

The People Of The United States, Perhaps More Than Any Other Nation In History, Love To Abase Themselves And Proclaim Their Unworthiness, And Seem To Find Refreshment In Doing So... That Is A Dark Frivolity, But Still Frivolity.

Canada, Having Few Indigenous Prejudices, Has Been Compelled To Import Them From Elsewhere, Duty-free, And It Is The Rare Canadian Who Is Not Shaken, At Some Time In The Year, By "old, Unhappy, Far-off Things / And Battles Long Ago", Like Wordsworth's Solitary Reaper. We Are A Nation Of Immigrants, And Not Happy In Our Minds.

The Inert Mind Is A Greater Danger Than The Inert Body, For It Overlays And Stifles The Desire To Live.

The Whole World Is Burdened With Young Fogies. Old Men With Ossified Minds Are Easily Dealt With. But Men Who Look Young, Act Young, And Everlastingly Harp On The Fact They Are Young, But Who Nevertheless Think And Act With A Degree Of Caution Which Would Be Excessive In Their Grandfathers, Are The Curses Of The World.