'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.
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They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their read more
They castrate the books of other men in order that with the fat of their works they may lard their own lean volumes.
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.
I would live to study, and not study to live.
I would live to study, and not study to live.
Woe to him who teaches men faster than they can learn.
Woe to him who teaches men faster than they can learn.
A teacher is one who makes himself progressively unnecessary.
A teacher is one who makes himself progressively unnecessary.
For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on read more
For me, literature is a complex game, both mental and concrete, which is acted out in a physical manner on the page.rn
You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the read more
You, the Spirit of the Settlement! ... Not understand that America is God's crucible, the great melting-pot where all the races of Europe are melting and re-forming! Here, you stand, good folk, think I, when I see them at Ellis Island, here you stand in your fifty groups, with your fifty languages and histories, and your fifty blood hatreds and rivalries... - Melting Pot, The.
We read poetry because the poets, like ourselves, have been haunted by the inescapable tyranny of time and death; have read more
We read poetry because the poets, like ourselves, have been haunted by the inescapable tyranny of time and death; have suffered the pain of loss, and the more wearing, continuous pain of frustration and failure; and have had moods of unlooked-for release and peace. They have known and watched in themselves and others.
The great Cham of literature. (Samuel Johnson)
The great Cham of literature. (Samuel Johnson)
