There Is But One Step From The

Depend Upon It, There Is Nothing So Unnatural As The Commonplace.

Draw Your Chair Up, And Hand Me My Violin, For The Only Problem Which We Have Still To Solve Is How To While Away These Bleak Autumnal Evenings.

It Is A Mistake To Confound Strangeness With Mystery.

The Love Of Books Is Among The Choicest Gifts Of The Gods.

His Love Of Danger, His Intense Appreciation Of The Drama Of An Adventure--all The More Intense For Being Held Tightly In--his Consistent View That Every Peril In Life Is A Form Of Sport, A Fierce Game Betwixt You And Fate, With Death As A Forfeit, Made Him A Wonderful Companion At Such Hours.