The Rule Is, Jam Tomorrow And Jam

I Believe This Thought, Of The Possibility Of Death - If Calmly Realised, And Steadily Faced Would Be One Of The Best Possible Tests As To Our Going To Any Scene Of Amusement Being Right Or Wrong. If The Thought Of Sudden Death Acquires, For You, A Special Horror When Imagined As Happening In A Theatre, Then Be Very Sure The Theatre Is Harmful For You, However Harmless It May Be For Others; And That You Are Incurring A Deadly Peril In Going.

If You Want To Inspire Confidence, Give Plenty Of Statistics. It Does Not Matter That They Should Be Accurate, Or Even Intelligible, As Long As There Is Enough Of Them.

Why Is A Raven Like A Writing Desk?

I Do Not Know If Alice In Wonderland Was An Original Story-i Was, At Least, No Conscious Imitator In Writing It-but I Do Know That, Since It Came Out, Something Like A Dozen Story-books Have Appeared, On Identically The Same Pattern. The Path I Timidly Explored Believing Myself To Be 'the First That Ever Burst Into That Silent Sea'-is Now A Beaten High-road: All The Way-side Flowers Have Long Ago Been Trampled Into The Dust: And It Would Be Courting Disaster For Me To Attempt That Style Again.

Come, My Child," I Said, Trying To Lead Her Away. "wish Good-bye To The Poor Hare, And Come And Look For Blackberries." "good-bye, Poor Hare!" Sylvie Obediently Repeated, Looking Over Her Shoulder At It As We Turned Away. And Then, All In A Moment, Her Self-command Gave Way. Pulling Her Hand Out Of Mine, She Ran Back To Where The Dead Hare Was Lying, And Flung Herself Down At Its Side In Such An Agony Of Grief As I Could Hardly Have Believed Possible In So Young A Child. "oh, My Darling, My Darling!" She Moaned, Over And Over Again. "and God Meant Your Life To Be So Beautiful!