When You Drink Of The Water, Don't

Mr. Tulkinghorn, Sitting In The Twilight By The Open Window, Enjoys His Wine. As If It Whispered To Him Of Its Fifty Years Of Silence And Seclusion, It Shuts Him Up The Closer. More Impenetrable Than Ever, He Sits, And Drinks, And Mellows As It Were In Secrecy, Pondering At That Twilight Hour On All The Mysteries He Knows.

Champagne Is Simply One Of The Elegant Extras Of Life.

A Day Wasted On Others Is Not Wasted On One's Self.

This Is The Even-handed Dealing Of The World!" He Said. "there Is Noth-ing On Which It Is So Hard As Poverty; And There Is Nothing It Professes Tocondemn With Such Severity As The Pursuit Of Wealth!

What Connexion Can There Be, Between The Place In Lincolnshire, The House In Town, The Mercury In Powder, And The Whereabout Of Jo The Outlaw With The Broom, Who Had That Distant Ray Of Light Upon Him When He Swept The Churchyard-step? What Connexion Can There Have Been Between Many People In The Innumerable Histories Of This World, Who, From Opposite Sides Of Great Gulfs, Have, Nevertheless, Been Very Curiously Brought Together!