We Cannot Get Grace From Gadgets.

Man, The Creature Who Knows He Must Die, Who Has Dreams Larger Than His Destiny, Who Is Forever Working A Confidence Trick On Himself, Needs An Ally. Mine Has Been Tobacco.

It Had The Old Double Keyboard, An Entirely Different Set Of Keys For Capitals And Figures, So That The Paper Seemed A Long Way Off, And The Machine Was As Big And Solid As A Battle Cruiser. Typing Was Then A Muscular Activity. You Could Ache After It. If You Were Not Familiar With Those Vast Keyboards, Your Hand Wandered Over Them Like A Child Lost In A Wood. The Noise Might Have Been That Of A Shipyard On The Clyde. You Would No More Have Thought Of Carrying One Of Those Grim Structures As You Would Have Thought Of Travelling With A Piano.

We Complain And Complain, But We Have Lived And Seen The Blossom -apple, Pear, Cherry, Plum, Almond Blossom - In The Sun; And The Best Among Us Cannot Pretend They Deserve - Or Could Contrive - Anything Better.

The Canadian Is Often A Baffled Man Because He Feels Different From His British Kindred And His American Neighbours, Sharply Refused To Be Lumped Together With Either Of Them, Yet Cannot Make Plain His Difference.

It Is Hard To Tell Where The Mcc Ends And The Church Of England Begins.