Headlines twice the size of the events.

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.

The talked-about is always the last to hear the talk . . .

Once admit that we have the right to inflict unnecessary suffering and you destroy the very basis of human society.

We are all familiar with the argument: Make war dreadful enough, and there will be no war. And we none of us believe it.

Love is not a hot-house flower, but a wild plant, born of a wet night, born of an hour of sunshine; sprung from wild seed, blown along the road by a wild wind. A wild plant that, when it blooms by chance within the hedge of our gardens, we call a flower; and when it blooms outside we call a weed; but, flower or weed, whose scent and colour are always, wild!

Not the least hard thing to bear when they go from us, these quiet friends, is that they carry away with them so many years of our own lives.