The More We Elaborate Our Means Of

Our Trouble Is That We Drink Too Much Tea. I See In This The Slow Revenge Of The Orient, Which Has Diverted The Yellow River Down Our Throats.

Childhood, Catching Our Imagination When It Is Fresh And Tender, Never Lets Go Of Us.

The People Who Pretend That Dying Is Rather Like Strolling Into The Next Room Always Leave Me Unconvinced. Death, Like Birth, Must Be A Tremendous Event.

Most Writers Enjoy Two Periods Of Happiness When A Glorious Idea Comes To Mind And, Secondly, When A Last Page Has Been Written And You Haven't Had Time To Know How Much Better It Ought To Be.

Nearly Everything Possible Had Been Done To Spoil The Game: The Heavy Financial Interest; The Absurd Transfer And Player-selling System; The Lack Of Any Birth Or Residential Qualifications; The Absurd Publicity Given To Every Feature Of It By The Press; The Monstrous Partisanships Of The Crowds.