No Roman Ever Was Able To Say,

Anything That Is Worth Doing Has Been Done Frequently. Things Hitherto Undone Should Be Given, I Suspect, A Wide Berth.

For A Young Man, Sleep Is A Sure Solvent Of Distress. There Whirls Not For Him In The Night Any So Hideous Phantasmagoria As Will Not Become, In The Clarity Of The Next Morning, A Spruce Procession For Him To Lead. Brief The Vague Horror Of His Awakening; Memory Sweeps Back To Him, And He Sees Nothing Dreadful After All. "why Not?" Is The Sun's Bright Message To Him, And "why Not Indeed?" His Answer.

I Believe The Twenty-four Hour Day Has Come To Stay.

Undergraduates Owe Their Happiness Chiefly To The Consciousness That They Are No Longer At School. The Nonsense Which Was Knocked Out Of Them At School Is All Put Gently Back At Oxford Or Cambridge.

It Is A Fact That Not Once In All My Life Have I Gone Out For A Walk. I Have Been Taken Out For Walks; But That Is Another Matter.