Vulgarity Is, In Reality, Nothing But A

The Arts Are Life Accelerated And Concentrated.

It Is Hardly Respectable To Be Good Nowadays.

My Temper Is Not Spoilt. I Am Absolutely Non-homicidal. Nor Do I Ever Attack Unless I Have Been Attacked First, And Then Heaven Have Mercy Upon The Attacker, Because I Don't! I Just Sharpen My Wits On A Wooden Head As A Cat Sharpens Its Claws On The Wood Legs Of A Table.

The Living Blind And Seeing Dead Together Lie As If In Love . . . There Was No More Hating Then, And No More Love; Gone Is The Heart Of Man.

Winter Is The Time For Comfort, For Good Food And Warmth, For The Touch Of A Friendly Hand And For A Talk Beside The Fire: It Is The Time For Home.