As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

If any question why we died, Tell them, because our fathers lied.

Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.

No easy hope or lies Shall bring us to our goal, But iron sacrifice Of body, will, and soul. There is but one task for all - One life for each to give. What st…

'Old' and 'new' are the perennial poles of all feeling and sense of orientation in the world. We cannot do without the old, because in what is old is invested …

Perhaps the sentiments contained in the following pages, are not YET sufficiently fashionable to procure them general favour; a long habit of not thinking a th…

Blow the dust off the clock. Your watches are behind the times. Throw open the heavy curtains which are so dear to you - you do not even suspect that the day h…