Anything Seems Commonplace, Once Explained.

There Is Nothing More To Be Said Or To Be Done Tonight, So Hand Me Over My Violin And Let Us Try To Forget For Half An Hour The Miserable Weather And The Still More Miserable Ways Of Our Fellowmen.

I Trust That Age Doth Not Wither Nor Custom Stale My Infinite Variety.

Man, Or At Least Criminal Man, Has Lost All Enterprise And Originality. As To My Own Little Practice, It Seems To Be Degenerating Into An Agency For Recovering Lost Lead Pencils And Giving Advice To Young Ladies From Boarding-schools.

The Grand Thing Is To Be Able To Reason Backwards.

It Was In The Days When France's Power Was Already Broken Upon The Seas, And When More Of Her Three-deckers Lay Rotting In The Medway Than Were To Be Found In Brest Harbour. But Her Frigates And Corvettes Still Scoured The Ocean, Closely Followed Ever By Those Of Her Rival. At The Uttermost Ends Of The Earth These Dainty Vessels, With Sweet Names Of Girls Or Of Flowers, Mangled And Shattered Each Other For The Honour Of The Four Yards Of Bunting Which Flapped From The End Of Their Gaffs.