Fiction is Truth's elder sister. Obviously. No one in the world knew what truth was till some one had told a story.
It'is like a book, I think, this bloomin' world.
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins, when all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins.
The world is very lovely, and it's very horrible--and it doesn't care about your life or mine or anything else.
I have seen something of this world," she said over the trays, "and there are but two sorts of women in it-- those who take the strength out of a man, and those who put it back. Once I was that one, and now I am this.
When man has come to the Turnstiles of Night, all the creeds in the world seem to him wonderfully alike and colorless.
However the world pretends to divide itself, there are only two divisions in the world today - human beings and Germans.
More men are killed by overwork than the importance of the world justifies.
All the money in the world is no use to a man or his country if he spends it as fast as he makes it. All he has left is his bills and the reputation for being a fool.