The education that we have so far succeeded in giving to the bulk of our citizens has produced a generation of mental slatterns.

Man is never truly himself except when he is actively creating something.

She couldn't have found anything nastier to say if she had thought it out with both hands for a fortnight.

He was so crooked, you could have used his spine for a safety-pin.

I am better off with vegetables at the bottom of my garden than with all the fairies of the Midsummer Night's Dream.

There are times when one is tempted to say that the great, sprawling, lethargic sin of Sloth is the oldest and greatest of the sins and the parent of all the rest.

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.