What The Eye Does Not

What Readers Ask Nowadays In A Book Is That It Should Improve, Instruct, And Elevate. This Book Wouldn't Elevate A Cow.

Let Us Play The Game Of Life As Sportsmen, Pocketing Our Winnings With A Smile, Leaving Our Losings With A Shrug.

I Will Not Take Up Your Time, Dear Boy, With Telling You What Is The Matter With Me. Life Is Brief, And You Might Pass Away Before I Had Finished. But I Will Tell You What Is Not The Matter With Me. I Have Not Got Housemaid’s Knee. Why I Have Not Got Housemaid’s Knee, I Cannot Tell You; But The Fact Remains That I Have Not Got It. Everything Else, However, I Have Got.

That Is Just The Way With Memory; Nothing That She Brings To Us Is Complete. She Is A Willful Child; All Her Toys Are Broken. I Remember Tumbling Into A Huge Dust-hole When A Very Small Boy, But I Have Not The Faintest Recollection Of Ever Getting Out Again; And If Memory Were All We Had To Trust To, I Should Be Compelled To Believe I Was There Still.

Cheese, Like Oil, Makes Too Much Of Itself.