When I am dead, I hope it may be said: His sins were scarlet, but his books were read. – Hilaire Belloc
I shoot the Hippopotamus
With bullets made of platinum,
Because if I use leaden ones
His hide is sure to flatten em. – Hilaire Belloc
When friendship disappears then there is a space left open to that awful loneliness of the outside world which is like the cold space between the planets. It is an air in which men perish utterly. – Hilaire Belloc
It is sometimes necessary to lie damnably in the interests of the nation. – Hilaire Belloc