The elements are cricket's presiding geniuses.
The laws of cricket tell of the English love of compromise between a particular freedom and a general orderliness, or legality.
The Australian temper is at bottom grim. It is as though the sun has dried up his nature.
A snick by Jack Hobbs is a sort of disturbance of a cosmic orderliness.
Like the British constitution, cricket was not made: it has 'grown'.
The umpire... is like the geyser in the bathroom; we cannot do without it, yet we notice it only when it is out of order.