The war imbued my tin soldiers with quite a new interest. It was impossible to have boxes enough of them.

Poor is the power of the lead that becomes bullets compared to the power of the hot metal that becomes types.

My first experiences of academic friendship made me smile in after years when I looked back on them. But my circle of acquaintances had gradually grown so large that it was only natural new friendships should grow out of it.

Six hours a day I lived under school discipline in active intercourse with people none of whom were known to those at home, and the other hours of the twenty-four I spent at home, or with relatives of the people at home, none of whom were known to anybody at school.

That a literature in our time is living is shown in that way that it debates problems.

I did not know what it was to be happy for a whole day at a time, scarcely for an hour.

The appalling thing about war is that it kills all love of truth.