Among The Delights Of Summer Were Picnics

My Father, Though, Could Run Very Much Faster. It Was Impossible To Compete With Him On The Grass. But It Was Astonishing How Slow Old People Were. Some Of Them Could Not Run Up A Hill And Called It Trying To Climb Stairs.

I Was A Town Child, It Is True, But That Did Not Prevent Me Enjoying Open-air Life, With Plants And Animals.

The Society Of The Culture-philistines Makes Life A Burden To Exceptional Men.

Poor Is The Power Of The Lead That Becomes Bullets Compared To The Power Of The Hot Metal That Becomes Types.

When I Was A Little Boy I Did Not, Of Course, Trouble Much About My Appearance.