Give Me Something Huge To

Toil Is The True Knight's Pastime.

The World Is God's World, After All.

You Are Literally Filled With The Fruit Of Your Own Devices, With Rats And Mice And Such Small Deer, Paramecia, And Entomostraceæ, And Kicking Things With Horrid Names, Which You See In Microscopes At The Polytechnic, And Rush Home And Call For Brandy-without The Water-stone, And Gravel, And Dyspepsia, And Fragments Of Your Own Muscular Tissue Tinged With Your Own Bile.

There's No Use Doing A Kindness If You Do It A Day Too Late.

Do Noble Things, Not Dream Them All Day Long.