Please, Sir, I Want Some

Whether I Shall Turn Out To Be The Hero Of My Own Life, Or Whether That Station Will Be Held By Anybody Else, These Pages Must Show. To Begin My Life With The Beginning Of My Life, I Record That I Was Born (as I Have Been Informed And Believe) On A Friday, At Twelve O’clock At Night. It Was Remarked That The Clock Began To Strike, And I Began To Cry, Simultaneously.

It Was One Of Those Hot, Silent Nights, When People Sit At Windows Listening For The Thunder Which They Know Will Shortly Break; When They Recall Dismal Tales Of Hurricanes And Earthquakes; And Of Lonely Travellers On Open Plains, And Lonely Ships At Sea, Struck By Lightning.

Cheerfulness And Contentment Are Great Beautifiers, And Are Famous Preservers Of Good Looks.

In Truth, No Men On Earth Can Cheer Like Englishmen, Who Do So Rally One Another's Blood And Spirit When They Cheer In Earnest, That The Stir Is Like The Rush Of Their Whole History, With All Its Standards Waving At Once, From Saxon Alfred's Downwards.

We Were Equals Afterwards, As We Had Been Before; But, Afterwards At Quiet Times When I Sat Looking At Joe And Thinking About Him, I Had A New Sensation Of Feeling Conscious That I Was Looking Up To Joe In My Heart.