The Devil Is A Spiritual Lunatic, But,

Books... Are Like Lobster Shells, We Surround Ourselves With 'em, Then We Grow Out Of 'em And Leave 'em Behind, As Evidence Of Our Earlier Stages Of Development.

One Must Not Only Die Daily, But Every Day We Must Be Born Again.

The War Has Jerked Us Pretty Sharply Into Consciousness About This Slug-a-bed Sin Of Sloth, And Perhaps We Need Not Say Too Much About It. But Two Warnings Are Rather Necessary.

There Is Undoubtedly Something Irritating About The Favorites Of Fortune.

If Men Will Not Understand The Meaning Of Judgement, They Will Never Come To Understand The Meaning Of Grace.