They Say That Nobody Is Perfect. Then

The World Looks With Some Awe Upon A Man Who Appears Unconcernedly Indifferent To Home, Money, Comfort, Rank, Or Even Power And Fame. The World Feels Not Without A Certain Apprehension, That Here Is Someone Outside Its Jurisdiction; Someone Before Whom Its Allurements May Be Spread In Vain; Some One Strangely Enfranchised, Untamed, Untrammelled By Convention, Moving Independent Of The Ordinary Currents Of Human Action.

Playing Golf Is Like Chasing A Quinine Pill Around A Cow Pasture.

Peace Will Not Be Preserved By Pious Sentiments.

Be A Peg, Hammered Into The Frozen Ground, Immovable.

I Have Watched This Famous Island Descending Incontinently, Fecklessly, The Stairway Which Lead To A Dark Gulf.