He Who Does Not Understand A Joke,

The Great Man Is Not The Child Of His Age But Its Step-child.

I Was Always Hearing That I Was Pale And Thin And Small.

Poor Is The Power Of The Lead That Becomes Bullets Compared To The Power Of The Hot Metal That Becomes Types.

Any Feeling That I Was Enriching My Mind From Those Surrounding Me Was Unfortunately Rare With Me.

The War Imbued My Tin Soldiers With Quite A New Interest. It Was Impossible To Have Boxes Enough Of Them.