She Is Intensely Human, And Lives To

War Is An Ill Thing, As I Surely Know. But 'twould Be An Ill World For Weaponless Dreamers If Evil Men Were Not Now And Then Slain.

You May Talk O' Gin And Beer When You're Quartered Safe Out 'ere, An' You're Sent To Penny-fights An' Aldershot It; But When It Comes To Slaughter You Will Do Your Work On Water, An' You'll Lick The Bloomin' Boots Of 'im That's Got It.

When Man Has Come To The Turnstiles Of Night, All The Creeds In The World Seem To Him Wonderfully Alike And Colorless.

Too Much Work And Too Much Energy Kill A Man Just As Effectively As Too Much Assorted Vice Or Too Much Drink.

What Stands If Freedom Fail? What Dies Of England Live?