I thought of Paris as a beauty spot on the face of the earth, and of London as a big freckle.

...one of the best things about running is that no matter how fast you've run in the past, running fast in the future does not come easily or with any guarantees.

Every race and every nation should be judged by the best it has been able to produce, not by the worst.

I do not see how a people that can find in its conscience any excuse whatever for slowly burning to death a human being, or for tolerating such an act, can be entrusted with the salvation of a race.

When we arrived in London, my sadness at leaving Paris was turned into despair. After my long stay in the French capital, huge, ponderous, massive London seemed to me as ugly a thing as man could contrive to make.

It is strange how in some things honest people can be dishonest without the slightest compunction.

O Black and unknown bards of long ago, How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?