The Stream Of Time Sweeps

Six Hours A Day I Lived Under School Discipline In Active Intercourse With People None Of Whom Were Known To Those At Home, And The Other Hours Of The Twenty-four I Spent At Home, Or With Relatives Of The People At Home, None Of Whom Were Known To Anybody At School.

The Appalling Thing About War Is That It Kills All Love Of Truth.

Forgetfulness, The Unhistorical, Is ... The Atmosphere, In Which Alone Life Can Come Into Being. In Order To Understand It, Let Us Imagine A Youth Who Is Seized With A Passion For A Woman, Or A Man Who Is Swayed By A Passion For His Work. In Both Cases What Lies Behind Them Has Ceased To Exist And Yet This State (the Most Unhistorical That Can Be Imagined) Is That In Which Every Action, Every Great Deed Is Conceived And Accomplished.

I Admired In Others The Strength That I Lacked Myself.

I Was Always Hearing That I Was Pale And Thin And Small.