It Is Bad Enough To Be Bad,

It Is The Steady And Merciless Increase Of Occupations, The Augmented Speed At Which We Are Always Trying To Live, The Crowding Of Each Day With More Work Than It Can Profitably Hold, Which Has Cost Us, Among Other Things, The Undisturbed Enjoyment Of Friends. Friendship Takes Time, And We Have No Time To Give It.

A Man Who Owns A Dog Is, In Every Sense Of The Words, Its Master; The Term Expresses Accurately Their Mutual Relations. But It Is Ridiculous When Applied To The Limited Possession Of A Cat.

It Is In His Pleasure That A Man Really Lives; It Is From His Leisure That He Constructs The True Fabric Of Self.

Democracy Forever Teases Us With The Contrast Between Its Ideals And Its Realities, Between Its Heroic Possibilities And Its Sorry Achievements.

The Sanguine Assurance That Men And Nations Can Be Legislated Into Goodness, That Pressure From Without Is Equivalent To A Moral Change Within, Needs A Strong Backing Of Inexperience.