It Is Wonderful How Well Men Can

Never Give In, Never Give In, Never Give In.

What Is The Use Of Living, If It Be Not To Strive For Noble Causes.

I Feel Like An Aeroplane At The End Of Its Flight, In The Dusk, With The Petrol Running Out, In Search Of A Safe Landing.

Woe Betide The Leaders Now Perched On Their Dizzy Pinnacles Of Triumph If They Cast Away At The Conference Table What The Soldiers Had Won On A Hundred Bloodsoaked Battlefields.

It Is A Socialist Idea That Making Profits Is A Vice; I Consider The Real Vice Is Making Losses.