The good story lay in half-told things which must be filled in out of the hearer’s own experience.
The candle aimed its spear of light at Heaven, like an artist who consumes himself to become divine.
The afternoon came down as imperceptibly as age comes to a happy man.
It is a time of quiet joy, the sunny morning. When the glittery dew is on the mallow weeds, each leaf holds a jewel which is beautiful if not valuable. This is no time for hurry or for bustle. Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.
In civilian life one is punished for things one does; but army codes add a new principle to this – they punish a man for things he does not do.
Beans are a warm cloak against economic cold.
As the wine went down in the bottles, patriotism arose in the three men.
Ah, the prayers of the millions, how they must fight and destroy each other on their way to the throne of God.
