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A schoolmaster should have an atmosphere of awe, and walk wonderingly, as if he was amazed at being himself.
A schoolmaster should have an atmosphere of awe, and walk wonderingly, as if he was amazed at being himself.
Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, read more
Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.
'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over read more
'Humph!' grunted Mr. Romford, seeing his worst fears about to be realized. He had dreamt that he had timbled over a poodle in the drawing-room, and squirted a bottle of porter right into a lady's face. 'Who's goin' besides ourselves?' asked Romford, wishing to know the worst at once. 'Better be killed than frightened to death,' thought he. - Mr. Facey Romford's Hounds.
Literature is the thought of thinking Souls.
Literature is the thought of thinking Souls.
All literature is political.
All literature is political.
The schoolmaster is abroad! And I trust to him armed with his primer against the soldier in full military array.
The schoolmaster is abroad! And I trust to him armed with his primer against the soldier in full military array.
For the high achievers, studying gave them the pleasing, absorbing challenge o flow 40 percent of the hours they spent read more
For the high achievers, studying gave them the pleasing, absorbing challenge o flow 40 percent of the hours they spent at it. But for low achievers, studying produced flow only 16 percent of the time; more often that not, it yielded anxiety, with the demands outreaching their abilities.
People create stories create people; or rather stories create people create stories.
People create stories create people; or rather stories create people create stories.
Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to read more
Oh you who are born of the blood of the gods, Trojan son of Anchises, easy is the descent to Hell; the door of dark Dis stands open day and night. But to retrace your steps and come out to the air above, that is work, that is labor! - Aeneid, The.
