The Tired Parts Of The Mind Can

Men Often Stumble Onto The Truth But Then Quickly Dust Themselves Off And Hurry Away.

Have Not Manet And Monet, Cézanne And Matisse, Rendered To Painting Something Of The Same Service Which Keats And Shelley Gave To Poetry After The Solemn And Ceremonious Literary Perfections Of The Eighteenth Century? They Have Brought Back To The Pictorial Art A New Draught Of Joie De Vivre; And The Beauty Of Their Work Is Instinct With Gaiety, And Floats In Sparkling Air. I Do Not Expect These Masters Would Particularly Appreciate My Defence, But I Must Avow An Increasing Attraction To Their Work.

I Thought Of A Remark . . . That The United States Is Like A 'gigantic Boiler. Once The Fire Is Lighted Under It There Is No Limit To The Power It Can Generate.' Being Saturated And Satiated With Emotion And Sensation, I Went To Bed And Slept The Sleep Of The Saved And Thankful.

We See Nothing But Good And Hope In A Richer, Freer, More Contented European Commonalty. But We Have Our Own Dreams And Our Own Task. We Are With Europe, But Not Of It. We Are Linked, But Not Comprised. We Are Interested And Associated, But Not Absorbed.

In War, The Truth Must Be Guarded By A Body Guard Of Lies.