Life Calls The Tune, We Dance.

Not The Least Hard Thing To Bear When They Go From Us, These Quiet Friends, Is That They Carry Away With Them So Many Years Of Our Own Lives.

If You Do Not Think About The Future, You Cannot Have One.

We Are All Familiar With The Argument: Make War Dreadful Enough, And There Will Be No War. And We None Of Us Believe It.

I Drink The Wine Of Aspiration And The Drug Of Illusion. Thus I Am Never Dull.

Love Is Not A Hot-house Flower, But A Wild Plant, Born Of A Wet Night, Born Of An Hour Of Sunshine; Sprung From Wild Seed, Blown Along The Road By A Wild Wind. A Wild Plant That, When It Blooms By Chance Within The Hedge Of Our Gardens, We Call A Flower; And When It Blooms Outside We Call A Weed; But, Flower Or Weed, Whose Scent And Colour Are Always, Wild!