We learn words by rote, but not their meaning; that must be paid for with our life-blood, and printed in the subtle fibres of our nerves.

Beauty doesn't have to be about anything. What's a vase about? What's a sunset or a flower about? What, for that matter, is Mozart's Twenty-third Piano Concerto about?

When Paul was arrested in Japan for having hash in his luggage, I thought he&#39;d be out that night. But it became really serious stuff when he was kept in a cell. I became more fearful as the days went by.

We can pay our debts to the past by putting the future in debt to ourselves.

Written By John Buchan

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