I Can Not Do Everything, But I

Each Day Comes To Me With Both Hands Full Of Possibilities.

All The World Is Full Of Suffering. It Is Also Full Of Overcoming.

We The Living, Should Not Think Of The Dead As Lonely Because If They Could Speak To Us, They Would Say: "do Not Weep For Me, Earth Was Not My True Country, I Was An Alien There: I Am At Home Where Everyone Comes."

I Do Not Mean To Object To A Thorough Knowledge Of The Famous Works We Read. I Object Only To The Interminable Comments And Bewildering Criticisms That Teach But One Thing: There Are As Many Opinions As There Are Men.

Our Democracy Is But A Name. We Vote? What Does That Mean? It Means That We Choose Between Two Bodies Of Real, Though Not Avowed, Autocrats. We Choose Between Tweedledum And Tweedledee.… You Ask For Votes For Women. What Good Can Votes Do When Ten-elevenths Of The Land Of Great Britain Belongs To 200,000 And Only One-eleventh To The Rest Of The 40,000,000? Have Your Men With Their Millions Of Votes Freed Themselves From This Injustice?