All Students Can Learn.

No One Appreciates The Very Special Genius Of Your Conversation As The Dog Does.

A Mind Too Proud To Unbend Over The Small Ridiculosa Of Life Is As Painful As A Library With No Trash In It.

Truth Is What Every Man Sees Lurking At The Bottom Of His Own Soul, Like The Oyster Shell Housewives Put In The Kitchen Kettle To Collect The Lime From The Water. By And By Each Man's Iridescent Oyster Shell Of Truth Becomes Coated With The Lime Of Prejudice And Hearsay.

Printer's Ink Has Been Running A Race Against Gunpowder These Many, Many Years. Ink Is Handicapped, In A Way, Because You Can Blow Up A Man With Gunpowder In Half A Second, While It May Take Twenty Years To Blow Him Up With A Book. But The Gunpowder Destroys Itself Along With Its Victim, While A Book Can Keep On Exploding For Centuries.

There Is No Mistaking A Real Book When One Meets It. It Is Like Falling In Love, And Like That Colossal Adventure It Is An Experience Of Great Social Import. Even As The Tranced Swain, The Booklover Yearns To Tell Others Of His Bliss. He Writes Letters About It, Adds It To The Postscript Of All Manner Of Communications, Intrudes It Into Telephone Messages, And Insists On His Friends Writing Down The Title Of The Find. Like The Simple-hearted Betrothed, Once Certain Of His Conquest