The Past Is A Work Of Art,

People Are Either Born Hosts Or Born Guests.

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.

Improvisation Is The Essence Of Good Talk. Heaven Defend Us From The Talker Who Doles Out Things Prepared For Us; But Let Heaven Not Less Defend Us From The Beautiful Spontaneous Writer Who Puts His Trust In The Inspiration Of The Moment.

For People Who Like That Kind Of Thing, This Is The Kind Of Thing They Like.

There Is Laughter That Goes So Far As To Lose All Touch With Its Motive, And To Exist Only, Grossly, In Itself. This Is Laughter At Its Best. A Man To Whom Such Laughter Has Often Been Granted May Happen To Die In A Work-house. No Matter. I Will Not Admit That He Has Failed In Life. Another Man, Who Has Never Laughed Thus, May Be Buried In Westminster Abbey, Leaving More Than A Million Pounds Overhead. What Then? I Regard Him As A Failure.