Men are in fact, quite unable to control their own inventions; they at best develop adaptability to the new conditions those inventions create.

The young man who, at the end of September, 1924, dismounted from a taxicab in South Square, Westminster, was so unobtrusively American that his driver had some hesitation in asking for double his fare. The young man had no hesitation in refusing it.

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

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy, the building of a house, the writing of a novel, the demolition of a bridge, and, eminently, the finish of a voyage.

The beginnings and endings of all human undertakings are untidy.

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

Idealism increases in direct proportion to one's distance from the problem.