The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive read more

The classics are only primitive literature. They belong to the same class as primitive machinery and primitive music and primitive medicine.

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.

If thou shouldst never see my face again,Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams read more

If thou shouldst never see my face again,Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayerThan this world dreams of. - The Passing of Arthur.

Draw a crazy picture,Write a nutty poem,Sing a mumble-gumble song,Whistle through your comb.Do a loony-goony dance'Cross the kitchen floor,Put something read more

Draw a crazy picture,Write a nutty poem,Sing a mumble-gumble song,Whistle through your comb.Do a loony-goony dance'Cross the kitchen floor,Put something silly in the worldThat ain't been there before.

Literature was formerly an art and finance a trade; today it is the reverse.

Literature was formerly an art and finance a trade; today it is the reverse.

Education is the state-controlled manufacture of echoes.

Education is the state-controlled manufacture of echoes.

The fashion of liking Racine will pass away like that of coffee.
[Fr., La mode d'aimer Racine passera comme read more

The fashion of liking Racine will pass away like that of coffee.
[Fr., La mode d'aimer Racine passera comme la mode du cafe.]

I am grieved that it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, read more

I am grieved that it should be said he is my brother, and take these courses. Well, as he brews, so shall he drink, for George again. Yet he shall hear on't, and tightly, too, an' I live, i'faith. - Every Man In His Humor.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.

Poetry is the impish attempt to paint the color of the wind.