I Hate Facts. I Always Say The

Every Library Should Try To Be Complete On Something, If It Were Only The History Of Pinheads.

Don't You Stay At Home Of Evenings? Don't You Love A Cushioned Seat In A Corner, By The Fireside, With Your Slippers On Your Feet?

The Mind Of A Bigot To The Pupil Of The Eye; The More Light You Pour On It, The More It Contracts.

We Are All Tattooed In Our Cradles With The Beliefs Of Our Tribe; The Record May Seem Superficial, But It Is Indelible. You Cannot Educate A Man Wholly Out Of The Superstitious Fears Which Were Early Implanted In His Imagination; No Matter How Utterly His Reason May Reject Them...

Memory Is A Net: One That Finds It Full Of Fish When He Takes It From The Brook, But A Dozen Miles Of Water Have Run Through It Without Sticking.