Faith Is A Wondrous Thing;

Man Has An Irrepressible Tendency To Read Meaning Into The Buzzing Confusion Of Sights And Sounds Impinging On His Senses; And Where No Agreed Meaning Can Be Found, He Will Provide It Out Of His Own Imagination.

...the Temptation, Which Consisted Of A Single Word Written On The Cemetary Of The Defeated: Sleep.

Woe Unto The Defeated, Whom History Treads Into The Dust.

Without The Hard Little Bits Of Marble Which Are Called 'facts' Or 'data' One Cannot Compose A Mosaic; What Matters, However, Are Not So Much The Individual Bits, But The Successive Patterns Into Which You Arrange Them, Then Break Them Up And Rearrange Them.

The Life We Led Was A Proof Of Man's Capacity For Adaptation.i Think That Even The Condemned Souls In Purgatory After Time Develop A Sort Of Homely Routine.that Is ,by The Way, Why Most Prison Memoirs Are Unreadable.the Difficulty Of Conveying To The Reader An Idea Of A Nightmare World From Which He Has Emerged Makes The Author Depict The Prisoner's State Of Mind As An Uninterruped Continuity Of Despair.he Fears To Appear Frivolous Or To Spoil His Effect By Admitting That Even In The Depths Of Misery Cheerfulness Keeps Breaking In.