_it was even more disconcerting to examine your charts before a proposed flight only to find that in many cases the bulk of the terrain over which you had to fly was bluntly marked: __NSURVEYED._ It was as if the mapmakers had said, __e are aware that between this spot and that one, there are several hundred thousands of acres, but until you make a forced landing there, we won__ know whether it is mud, desert, or jungle _ and the chances are we won__ know then!

From the time I arrived in British East Africa at the indifferent age of four and went through the barefoot stage of early youth hunting wild pig with the Nandi, later training racehorses for a living, and still later scouting Tanganyika and the waterless bush country between the Tana and Athi Rivers, by aeroplane, for elephant, I remained so happily provincial I was unable to discuss the boredom of being alive with any intelligence until I had gone to London and lived there for a year. Boredom, like hookworm, is endemic.

Yesterday is a pile of rubble. Today is a pile of opportunity. Life takes a new dump each morning

A day in a storm strengthens you more than a thousand in sunshine.

It is in vain to hide a fruitful seed in fertile soil.

The poor can dream. The weak can hope. The helpless can strive. The powerless can rise.