Here, my dear Lucy, hide these books. Quick, quick! Fling "Peregrine Pickle" under the toilette -throw "Roderick Random" into the closet -put "The Innocent Adultery" into "The Whole Duty of Man"; thrust "Lord Aimworth" under the sofa! cram "Ovid" behind the bolster; there -put "The Man of Feeling" into your pocket. Now for them.

There's only one truth about war: people die.

You write with ease, to show your breeding, But easy writing's vile hard reading.

Here is the whole set! a character dead at every word.

Here 's to the maiden of bashful fifteen; Here 's to the widow of fifty; Here 's to the flaunting, extravagant queen, And here 's to the housewife that 's thrifty! Let the toast pass; Drink to the lass; I 'll warrant she 'll prove an excuse for the glass.

O Lord, Sir - when a heroine goes mad she always goes into white satin.

Ay, ay, the best terms will grow obsolete: damns have had their day.