There is no such thing as an underestimate of average intelligence.
The outline of the city became frantic in its effort to explain something that defied meaning. Power seemed to have outgrown its servitude and to have asserted its freedom. The cylinder had exploded, and thrown great masses of stone and steam against the sky.
As History stands, it is a sort of Chinese Play, without end and without lesson.
Accident counts for as much in companionship as in marriage.
History is only a catalogue of the forgotten.
Everyone carries his own inch rule of taste, and amuses himself by applying it, triumphantly, wherever he travels.