I Went [to War] Because I Couldn't

The Mere Possession Of A Gun Is, In Itself, An Urge To Kill, Not Only By Design, But By Accident, By Madness, By Fright, By Bravado.

The Rooms Were Very Still While The Pages Were Softly Turned And The Winter Sunshine Crept In To Touch The Bright Heads And Serious Faces With A Christmas Greeting.

Jo's Ambition Was To Do Something Very Splendid; What It Was She Had No Idea, As Yet, But Left It For Time To Tell Her.

I Mean That It Is More Natural For Me To Be Wicked Than Virtuous, When I Do A Bad Act, And I've Done Many, I Never Feel Wither Shame, Remorse Or Fear, I Sometimes Wish It Was Not Necessary As I Don't Like The Trouble, But As For Any Moral Sense Of Principle, I Haven't A Particle. Many People Are Like Me As Actions Prove, But They Are Not So Frank In Owning It And Insist On Keeping Up The Humbug Of Virtue.

Self-pity In Its Early Stages Is As Snug As A Feather Mattress. Only When It Hardens Does It Become Uncomfortable.