The great ages of prose are the ages in which men shave. The great ages of poetry are those in which they allow their beards to grow. – Robert Lynd
No human being believes that any other human being has a right to be in bed when he himself is up. – Robert Lynd
Were I a philosopher, I should write a philosophy of toys, showing that nothing else in life need to be taken seriously, and that Christmas Day in the company of children is one of the few occasions on which men become entirely alive. – Robert Lynd
It is almost impossible to remember how tragic a place this world is when one is playing golf. – Robert Lynd