Book 4 — ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
Reading edition
A high wind will make a dead leaf fly like a bird Beware the silent one of an assembly! Brittle is foredoomed Common sense is the secret of every successful civil agitation Its glee at a catastrophe; its poor stock of mercy Money is of course a rough test of virtue Salt of earth, to whom their salt must serve for nourishment Sentimentality puts up infant hands for absolution She herself did not like to be seen eating in public Slightest taste for comic analysis that does not tumble to farce The greed of gain is our volcano The man had to be endured, like other doses in politics Vagrant compassionateness of sentimentalists What might have been What the world says, is what the wind says Without those consolatory efforts, useless between men
[The End]