Prepare To Live By All Means, But

Nearly All Bookish People Are Snobs, And Especially The More Enlightened Among Them. They Are Apt To Assume That If A Writer Has Immense Circulation, If He Is Enjoyed By Plain Persons, And If He Can Fill Several Theatres At Once, He Cannont Possibly Be Worth Reading And Merits Only Indifference And Disdain.

The Proper, Wise Balancing Of One's Whole Life May Depend Upon The Feasibility Of A Cup Of Tea At An Unusual Hour.

Of All The Inhabitants Of The Inferno, None But Lucifer Knows That Hell Is Hell, And The Secret Function Of Purgatory Is To Make Of Heaven An Effective Reality.

To My Mind The Most Poignant Mystical Exhoration Ever Written Is "be Still And Know That I Am God."

The Second Suggestion Is To Think As Well As To Read. I Know People Who Read And Read, And For All The Good It Does Them They Might Just As Well Cut Bread-and-butter. They Take To Reading As Better Men Take To Drink. They Fly Through The Shires Of Literature On A Motor-car, Their Sole Object Being Motion. They Will Tell You How Many Books They Have Read In A Year. Unless You Give At Least 45 Minutes To Careful, Fatiguing Reflection (it Is An Awful Bore At First) Upon What You Are Reading, Your 90 Minutes Of A Night Are Chiefly Wasted.