Letter-writing On The Part Of A Busy

Democracy Forever Teases Us With The Contrast Between Its Ideals And Its Realities, Between Its Heroic Possibilities And Its Sorry Achievements.

The Diseases Of The Present Have Little In Common With The Diseases Of The Past Save That We Die Of Them.

The Delusions Of The Past Seem Fond And Foolish. The Delusions Of The Present Seem Subtle And Sane.

There Is A Natural Limit To The Success We Wish Our Friends, Even When We Have Spurred Them On Their Way.

Tea Had Come As A Deliverer To A Land That Called For Deliverance; A Land Of Beef And Ale, Of Heavy Eating And Abundant Drunkenness; Of Gray Skies And Harsh Winds; Of Strong-nerved, Stout-purposed, Slow-thinking Men And Women. Above All, A Land Of Sheltered Homes And Warm Firesides - Firesides That Were Waiting - Waiting For The Bubbling Kettle And The Fragrant Breath Of Tea.