There Are Bitter Weeds In England.

These Cruel, Wanton, Indiscriminate Bombings Of London Are, Of Course, A Part Of Hitler's Invasion Plans. He Hopes, By Killing Large Numbers Of Civilians, And Women And Children, That He Will Terrorise And Cow The People Of This Mighty Imperial City ... Little Does He Know The Spirit Of The British Nation, Or The Tough Fibre Of The Londoners.

Never Yield To The Apparently Overwhelming Might Of The Enemy.

I Cannot Pretend To Be Impartial About The Colours. I Rejoice With The Brilliant Ones, And Am Genuinely Sorry For The Poor Browns.

Democracy Is A Very Bad Form Of Government ... But All The Others Are So Much Worse.

There Comes A Special Moment In Everyone's Life, A Moment For Which That Person Was Born. That Special Opportunity, When He Seizes It, Will Fulfill His Mission - A Mission For Which He Is Uniquely Qualified. In That Moment, He Will Find Greatness. It Is His Finest Hour.