War Does Not Decide Who Is Right

To Endure The Pain Of Living, We All Drug Ourselves More Or Less With Gin, With Literature, With Superstitions, With Romance, With Idealism, Political, Sentimental, And Moral, With Every Possible Preparation Of That Universal Hashish: Imagination.

In The Arts Of Life Main Invents Nothing; But In The Arts Of Death He Outdoes Nature Herself, And Produces By Chemistry And Machinery All The Slaughter Of Plague, Pestilence And Famine. ... There Is Nothing In Man's Industrial Machinery But His Greed And Sloth: His Heart Is In His Weapons.

Democracy Is A Word All Public Men Use And None Understand.

That Is What All Poets Do: They Talk To Themselves Out Loud; And The World Overhears Them. But It's Horribly Lonely Not To Hear Someone Else Talk Sometimes.

Youth Is A Wonderful Thing. What A Crime To Waste It On Children.