We're Not Savages. We're English.

I Believe Man Suffers From An Appalling Ignorance Of His Own Nature. I Produce My Own View In The Belief That It May Be Something Like The Truth.

Even If You Got Rid Of Paper, You Would Still Have Story-tellers. In Fact, You Had The Story-tellers Before You Had The Paper.

Couldn't A Fire Outrun A Galloping Horse?

We're All Mad, The Whole Damned Race. We're Wrapped In Illusions, Delusions, Confusions About The Penetrability Of Partitions, We're All Mad And In Solitary Confinement.

There's A Kinship Among Men Who Have Sat By A Dying Fire And Measured The Worth Of Their Life By It.