Like the destroyer, the submarine has created its own type of officer and man with language and traditions apart from the rest of the service, and yet at the heart unchangingly of the Service

Gardens are not made by singing 'Oh, how beautiful,' and sitting in the shade.

I have stated it plain, an' my argument's thus ( It's all one, says the Sapper) There's only one Corps which is perfect - that's us; An' they call us Her Majesty's Engineers, With the rank and pay of a Sapper!

All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They.

If you do not get what you want, it is a sure sign that you did not seriously want it.

We are the opening verse of the opening page of the chapter of endless possibilities.

Too much work and too much energy kill a man just as effectively as too much assorted vice or too much drink.