The Superior Thing ... Was To Be

They... Threw Themselves Into The Interests Of The Rest, But Each Plowed His Or Her Own Furrow. Their Thoughts, Their Little Passions And Hopes And Desires, All Ran Along Separate Lines. Family Life Is Like This - Animated, But Collateral.

Words Move, Turning Over Like Tumbling Clowns; Like Certain Books And Like Fleas, They Possess Activity. All Men Equally Have The Right To Say, 'this Word Shall Bear This Meaning,' And See If They Can Get It Across. It Is A Sporting Game, Which All Can Play, Only All Cannot Win.

News Is Like Food: It Is The Cooking And Serving That Makes It Acceptable, Not The Material Itself.

Once Learnt, This Business Of Cooking Was To Prove An Ever Growing Burden. It Scarcely Bears Thinking About, The Time And Labour That Man And Womankind Has Devoted To The Preparation Of Dishes That Are To Melt And Vanish In A Moment Like Smoke Or A Dream, Like A Shadow, And As A Post That Hastes By, And The Air Closes Behind Them, Afterwards No Sign Where They Went Is To Be Found.

Here Is One Of The Points About This Planet Which Should Be Remembered; Into Every Penetrable Corner Of It, And Into Most Of The Impenetrable Corners, The English Will Penetrate. They Are Like That; Born Invaders. They Cannot Stay At Home.