One Step At A Time, I Can

History Does Not So Much Repeat As Echo, I Suppose.

My Home Is Not A Place, It Is People.

If You Desire A Man To Tell You Comfortable Lies About Your Prowess, And So Fetter Any Hope Of True Excellence, I'm Sure You May Find One Anywhere. Not All Prisons Are Made Of Iron Bars. Some Are Made Of Feather Beds.

I Have A Catch-phrase To Describe My Plot-generation Technique -- 'what's The Worst Possible Thing I Can Do To These People?'

Cecil Flashed A Grin. "quite. Plus Your Rather Irritating Habit Of Treating Your Superior Officers As Your, Ah..." Cecil Paused, Apparently Groping Again For Just The Right Word. "equals?" Miles Hazarded. "cattle," Cecil Corrected Judiciously.