No Man Means All He Says, And

Chaos Breeds Life; Order Creates Habit.

If Our Minds Could Get Hold Of One Abstract Truth, They Would Be Immortal So Far As That Truth Is Concerned. My Trouble Is To Find Out How We Can Get Hold Of The Truth At All.

Simplicity Is The Most Deceitful Mistress That Ever Betrayed Man.

Accident Counts For As Much In Companionship As In Marriage.

Every Syllable That Can Be Struck Out Is Pure Profit, And Every Page That Can Be Economised Is A Five-per-cent Dividend. Nature Rebels Against This Rule; The Flesh Is Weak, And Shrinks From The Scissors; I Groan In Retrospect Over The Weak.