The Best Years Are When You Know

I Detest Self-regard. If My Work Has Taught Me Anything, It Is That Self-aggrandisement Is Completely Unhistorical.

The English Can Laugh And At The Same Time Strike You Down, Without The Least Compunction. It Is The Secret Of Their Success As A Nation.

Under The Force Of The Imagination, Nature Itself Is Changed.

Familial Love Can Find An Echo In Our Own Hearts Just As It Did In That Of Charles Dickens.

There Is A Word In Old English Which Belongs Wholly To That Civilization - "dustsceawung," Meaning Contemplation Of Dust. It Is A True Image Of The Anglo-saxon Mind, Or At Least An Echo Of That Consciousness Which Considered Transcience And Loss To Be Part Of The Human Estate; It Was A World In Which Life Was Uncertain And The Principal Diety Was Fate Or Destiny Or "wyrd."