People Have Got That Ancient

The Mind Which Renounces, Once And For Ever, A Futile Hope, Has Its Compensation In Ever-growing Calm.

Flippancy, The Most Hopeless Form Of Intellectual Vice.

To Every Man It Is Decreed: Thou Shalt Live Alone. Happy They Who Imagine That They Have Escaped The Common Lot; Happy, Whilst They Imagine It.

Money Is Made At Christmas Out Of Holly And Mistletoe, But Who Save The Vendors Would Greatly Care If No Green Branch Were Procurable?

One Of The Shining Moments Of My Day Is That When, Having Returned A Little Weary From An Afternoon Walk, I Exchange Boots For Slippers, Out-of-doors Coat For Easy, Familiar, Shabby Jacket, And, In My Deep, Soft-elbowed Chair, Await The Tea-tray.... [h]ow Delicious Is The Soft Yet Penetrating Odour Which Floats Into My Study, With The Appearance Of The Teapot!... What A Glow Does It Bring After A Walk In Chilly Rain!