I Do Strive To Think

Wit Is A Pleasure-giving Thing, Largely Because It Eludes Reason; But In The Apprehension Of An Absurdity Through The Working Of The Comic Spirit There Is A Foundation Of Reason, And An Impetus To Human Companionship.

It Is Because Of Our Unassailable Enthusiasm, Our Profound Reverence For Education, That We Habitually Demand Of It The Impossible. The Teacher Is Expected To Perform A Choice And Varied Series Of Miracles.

Wit Is The Salt Of Conversation, Not The Food, And Few Things In The World Are More Wearying Than A Sarcastic Attitude Towards Life.

In Those Happy Days When Leisure Was Held To Be No Sin, Men And Women Wrote Journals Whose Copiousness Both Delights And Dismays Us.

Love Is A Malady, The Common Symptoms Of Which Are The Same In All Patients.