The great God endows His children variously. To some He gives intellect and they move the earth. To some He allots heart and the beating pulse of humanity is theirs.

But to some He gives only a soul, without intelligence and these, who never grow up, but remain always His children, are God,s fools, kindly, elemental, simple, as if from His palette the Artist of all had taken one colour instead of many.

You want the unvarnished and ungarnished truth, and I'm no hand for that. I'm a lawyer.

Men deceive themselves; they look back on the children who were once themselves, and attempt to reconstruct them. But they can no longer think like the child . . .

Life is a little work, a little sleep, a little love and it is all over.