Headmasters Have Powers At Their Disposal With

The Dictator, In All His Pride, Is Held In The Grip Of His Party Machine. He Can Go Forward; He Cannot Go Back. He Must Blood His Hounds And Show Them Sport, Or Else, Like Actaeon Of Old, Be Devoured By Them. All-strong Without, He Is All-weak Within.

If You Wanted Nothing Done At All, Balfour Was The Man For The Job.

The Maxim, "nothing Prevails But Perfection," May Be Spelled Paralysis.

No Hour Of Life Is Wasted That Is Spent In The Saddle.

If The Past Sits In Judgment On The Present, The Future Will Be Lost.