Some of the evil of my tale may have been inherent in our circumstances. For years we lived anyhow with one another in the naked desert, under the indifferent heaven.

The beginning and ending of the secret of handling Arabs is unremitting study of them.

The desert is an ocean in which no oar is dipped.

A skittish motorbike with a touch of blood in it is better than all the riding animals on earth, because of its logical extension of our faculties, and the hint, the provocation, to excess conferred by its honeyed untiring smoothness.

Immorality, I know. Immortality, I cannot judge.

Nine-tenths of tactics are certain, and taught in books: but the irrational tenth is like the kingfisher flashing across the pool, and that is the test of generals.

To have news value is to have a tin can tied to one's tail.