To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life.

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen.

White pudding and eggs and sausages and cups of tea! How simple and beautiful was life after all!

People could put up with being bitten by a wolf but what properly riled them was a bite from a sheep.

A certain pride, a certain awe, withheld him from offering to God even one prayer at night, though he knew it was in God's power to take away his life while he slept and hurl his soul hellward ere he could beg for mercy.

The light music of whiskey falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.

I shall write a book some day about the appropriateness of names. Geoffrey Chaucer has a ribald ring, as is proper and correct, and Alexander Pope was inevitably Alexander Pope. Colley Cibber was a silly little man without much elegance and Shelley was very Percy and very Bysshe.