It is a fine game to play – the game of politics – and it is well worth waiting for a good hand before really plunging.
Christmas is a season not only of rejoicing but of reflection.
We contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle.
Never give in – never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense.
A state of society where men may not speak their minds cannot long endure.
Want of foresight, unwillingness to act when action would be simple and effective, lack of clear thinking, confusion of counsel until the emergency comes, until self-preservation strikes its jarring gong – these are the features which constitute the endless repetition of history.
When we look back on all the perils through which we have passed and at the mighty foes that we have laid low and all the dark and deadly designs that we have frustrated, why should we fear for our future? We have come safely through the worst.
Baldwin thought Europe was a bore, and Chamberlain thought it was only a greater Birmingham.
We are asking the nations of Europe between whom rivers of blood have flowed to forget the feuds of a thousand years.
Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
We do not covet anything from any nation except their respect.
Those who can win a war well can rarely make a good peace and those who could make a good peace would never have won the war.
India is a geographical term. It is no more a united nation than the Equator.
It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried.
What kind of people do they think we are? Is it possible they do not realize that we shall never cease to persevere against them until they have been taught a lesson which they and the world will never forget?