When In Doubt, Choose Greatness.

The Only Way For Writers To Meet Is To Share A Quick Peek Over A Common Lamp-post.

The Man Who Is Master Of His Passions Is Reason's Slave.

No-one Was Ever Made Wretched In A Brothel.

Dining Out Is A Vice, A Dissipation Of Spirit Punished By Remorse. We Eat, Drink, And Talk A Little Too Much, Abuse All Our Friends, Belch Out Our Literary Preferences And Are Egged On By Accomplices In The Audience To Acts Of Mental Exhibitionism. Such Evenings Cannot Fail To Diminish Those Who Take Part In Them. They End On Monkey Hill.

Hate Is The Consequence Of Fear; We Fear Something Before We Hate; A Child Who Fears Noises Becomes The Man Who Hates Them.