In Politics Nothing Matters Very Much, And

Herbert Asquith's Clarity Is A Great Liability Because He Has Nothing To Say.

I Never Forgive, But I Always Forget.

The General Strike Has Taught The Working Class More In Four Days Than Years Of Talking Could Have Done.

I Am More Or Less Happy When Being Praised, Not Very Comfortable When Being Abused, But I Have Moments Of Uneasiness When Being Explained.

Imperishable Moments And Immortal Deeds, Death Itself And Love Stronger Than Death, Will Be As Though They Had Never Been. The Energies Of Our System Will Decay, The Glory Of The Sun Will Be Dimmed And The Earth Tideless And Inert, Will No Longer Tolerate The Race Which Has For The Moment Disturbed Its Solitude. Man Will Go Down Into The Pit And All His Thoughts Will Perish. The Uneasy Consciousness, Which In This Obscure Corner Has For A Brief Space Broken The Contented Silence Of The Universe, Will Be At Rest.