Here I Am An Old Man In

Would We Hold Liberty, We Must Have Charity- Charity To Others, Charity To Ourselves, Crawling Up From The Moist Ovens Of A Steaming World, Still Carrying The Passional Equipment Of Our Ferocious Ancestors, Emerging From Black Superstition Amid Carnage And Atrocity To Our Perilous Present.

The Public Official Must Pick His Way Nicely, Must Learn To Placate Though Not To Yield Too Much, To Have The Art Of Honeyed Words But Not To Seem Neutral, And Above All To Keep Constantly Audible, Visible, Likable, Even Kissable.

What Seems Fair Enough Against A Squalid Huckster Of Bad Liquor May Take On A Different Face, If Used By A Government Determined To Suppress Political Opposition Under The Guise Of Sedition.

Our Common Law Is The Stock Instance Of A Combination Of Custom And Its Successive Adaptations.

"i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That Ye May Be Mistaken." I Should Like To Have That Written Over The Portals Of Every Church, Every School, And Every Courthouse, And, May I Say, Of Every Legislative Body In The United States. I Should Like To Have Every Court Begin, "i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That We May Be Mistaken."