It Is Only The First Baby That

It Is Very Strange, This Domination Of Our Intellect By Our Digestive Organs. We Cannot Work, We Cannot Think, Unless Our Stomach Wills So. It Dictates To Us Our Emotions, Our Passions.

We Shall Never Be Content Until Each Man Makes His Own Weather And Keeps It To Himself.

A Boy's Muscles Move Quicker Than His Thoughts.

Opportunities Flit By While We Sit Regretting The Chances We Have Lost, And The Happiness That Comes To Us We Heed Not, Because Of The Happiness That Is Gone.

Cultivate A Sense Of Humour. From A Humorous Point Of View This Lunch Is Rather Good.