For The First 25 Years

I Do Not Wonder That British Youth Is In Revolt Against The Morbid Doctrine That Nothing Matters But The Equal Sharing Of Miseries; That What Used To Be Called The Submerged Tenth Can Only Be Rescued By Bringing The Other Nine-tenths Down To Their Le.

I'm Finished ... I'm Done. What I Want Above All Things Is To Take Some Active Part In Beating The Germans ... I'd Go Out To The Front At Once.

I Now Began For The First Time To Envy Those Young Cubs At The University Who Had Fine Scholars To Tell Them What Was What; Professors Who Had Devoted Their Lives To Mastering And Focusing Ideas In Every Branch Of Learning; Who Were Eager To Distribute The Treasures They Had Gathered Before They Were Overtaken By The Night. But Now I Pity Undergraduates, When I See What Frivolous Lives Many Of Them Lead In The Midst Of Precious Fleeting Opportunity. After All, A Man's Life Must Be Nailed To A Cross Either Of Thought Or Action. Without Work There Is No Play.

I Must Place On Record My Regret That The Human Race Ever Learned To Fly.

The Short Words Are Best, And The Old Words, When Short, Are The Best Of All.