Memory feeds imagination.
People were still cramming down the stairs, and more were squeezing past the turnstiles and down the escalators onto the platforms, but it was clear to me that this wasn't going to have a happy ending.
After all it is those who have a deep and real inner life who are best able to deal with the irritating details of outer life.
There is no nonsense so errant that it cannot be made the creed of the vast majority by adequate governmental action.
Facts are the enemy of truth.
The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.
The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it.