A Children's Story That Can Only Be

If A Man Thinks He Is Not Conceited, He Is Very Conceited Indeed.

Our Passions Are Not Too Strong, They Are Too Weak. We Are Far Too Easily Pleased.

Ink Is The Great Cure For All Human Ills.

Hitherto The Plans Of The Educationalists Have Achieved Very Little Of What They Attempted, And Indeed We May Well Thank The Beneficent Obstinacy Of Real Mothers, Real Nurses, And (above All) Real Children For Preserving The Human Race In Such Sanity As It Still Possesses.

What Seem Our Worst Prayers May Really Be, In God's Eyes, Our Best. Those, I Mean, Which Are Least Supported By Devotional Feeling. For These May Come From A Deeper Level Than Feeling. God Sometimes Seems To Speak To Us Most Intimately When He Catches Us, As It Were, Off Our Guard.