I Died In My Boots Like A

Books Are Not Men And Yet They Are Alive. They Are Man's Memory And His Aspiration, The Link Between His Present And His Past, The Tools He Builds With.

The Other Week I Wrote A Piece On A Photograph I Got At A Flea Market, And I Got About 70 Hits. I Think A Lot Of People Must Be Interested In Flea Markets.

If Two New Hampshiremen Aren't A Match For The Devil, We Might As Well Give The Country Back To The Indians.

Sometimes A Sign Or A Quote Is Simply Interesting By Itself And Does Not Require Anything Beyond Being Framed On A Page.

It Is Better The Truth Should Come Little By Little. I Have Learned That, Being A Priest. Perhaps, In The Old Days, They Ate Knowledge Too Fast.