There Were Crimson Roses On The Bench;

All The Children Seem To Be Coming Out Quite Intelligent, Thank Goodness. It Would Have Been Such A Bore To Be The Mother Of Morons, And It’s An Absolute Toss-up, Isn’t It? If One Could Only Invent Them, Like Characters In Books, It Would Be Much More Satisfactory To A Well-regulated Mind.

Passion's A Good, Stupid Horse That Will Pull The Plough Six Days A Week If You Give Him The Run Of His Heels On Sundays. But Love's A Nervous, Awkward, Over-mastering Brute; If You Can't Rein Him, It's Best To Have No Truck With Him.

This Is The Weakness Of Most 'edifying' Or 'propaganda' Literature. There Is No Diversity...you Cannot, In Fact, Give God His Due Without Giving The Devil His Due Also.

How Fleeting Are All Human Passions Compared With The Massive Continuity Of Ducks.

There Is, In Fact, A Paradox About Working To Serve The Community, And It Is This: That To Aim Directly At Serving The Community Is To Falsify The Work; The Only Way To Serve The Community Is To Forget The Community And Serve The Work.