We Change Whether We Like It Or

In Failing Circumstances No One Can Be Relied On To Keep Their Integrity.

Creative Force, Like A Musical Composer, Goes On Unweariedly Repeating A Simple Air Or Theme, Now High, Now Low, In Solo, In Chorus, Ten Thousand Times Reverberated, Till It Fills Earth And Heaven With The Chant.

There Is No Den In The Wide World To Hide A Rogue. Commit A Crime, And The Earth Is Made Of Glass. Commit A Crime, And It Seems As If A Coat Of Snow Fell On The Ground, Such As Reveals In The Woods The Track Of Every Partridge And Fox And Squirrel And Mole.

O Day Of Days When We Can Read! The Reader And The Book, Either Without The Other Is Naught.

All Great Men Come Out Of The Middle Classes.