Teachers Affect Eternity; No One

A Boy's Will Is His Life, And He Dies When It Is Broken, As The Colt Dies In Harness, Taking A New Nature In Becoming Tame.

As History Stands, It Is A Sort Of Chinese Play, Without End Andl Without Lesson. With These Impressions I Wrote The Last Line Of My History, Asking For A Round Century Before Going Further.

Every Syllable That Can Be Struck Out Is Pure Profit, And Every Page That Can Be Economised Is A Five-per-cent Dividend. Nature Rebels Against This Rule; The Flesh Is Weak, And Shrinks From The Scissors; I Groan In Retrospect Over The Weak.

Everyone Carries His Own Inch Rule Of Taste, And Amuses Himself By Applying It, Triumphantly, Wherever He Travels.

History Is Only A Value Of Relation.