The Stations Of Uncensored Expression Are Closing

I Gather, Young Man, That You Wish To Be A Member Of Parliament. The First Lesson That You Must Learn Is, When I Call For Statistics About The Rate Of Infant Mortality, What I Want Is Proof That Fewer Babies Died When I Was Prime Minister Than When Anyone Else Was Prime Minister. That Is A Political Statistic.

What Is The Use Of Living, If It Be Not To Strive For Noble Causes And To Make This Muddled World A Better Place For Those Who Will Live In It After We Are Gone? How Else Can We Put Ourselves In Harmonious Relation With The Great Verities And Consolations Of The Infinite And The Eternal? And I Avow My Faith That We Are Marching Towards Better Days. Humanity Will Not Be Cast Down. We Are Going On Swinging Bravely Forward Along The Grand High Road And Already Behind The Distant Mountains Is The Promise Of The Sun.

There Are Men In The World Who Derive An Exaltation From The Proximity Of Disaster And Ruin, As Other From Success.

They Say That Nobody Is Perfect. Then They Tell You Practice Makes Perfect. I Wish They'd Make Up Their Minds.

I Myself Find Waiting More Tiring Than Action.