O grant me a house by the beach of a bay, Where the waves can be surly in winter, and play With the sea-weed in summer, ye bountiful powers! And I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.

I'd leave all the hurry, the noise, and the fray, for a house full of books, and a garden of flowers.

I am the batsman and the bat, / I am the bowler and the ball, / The umpire, the pavilion cat, / The roller, pitch, and stumps, and all.

An unsophisticated forecaster uses statistics as a drunken man uses lamp-posts - for support rather than for illumination.

Of all animals, he alone attains to the Contemplative Life.

Again, if there are really no fairies, why do people believe in them, all over the world? The ancient Greeks believed, so did the old Egyptians, and the Hindoos, and the Red Indians, and is it likely, if there are no fairies, that so many different peoples would have seen and heard them?

Either a wise man will not go into bunkers, or, being in, he will endure such things as befall him with patience.