It's A Kind Of Zen Question: If

A Person Less Fortunate Than Yourself Deserves The Best You Can Give. Because Of Duty, And Honor, And Service. You Understand Those Words? You Should Do Your Job Right, And You Should Do It Well, Simply Because You Can, Without Looking For Notice Or Reward.

This Was Like July 13th, 1943, The Pivotal Day Of The Battle Of The Kursk. We Were Like Alexander Vasilevsky, The Soviet General. If We Attacked Now, This Minute, We Had To Keep On And On Attacking Until The Enemy Was Run Off His Feet And The War Was Won. If We Bogged Down Or Paused For Breath Even For A Second, We Would Be Overrun Again.

It Gives Me Some Kind Of Chance To Survive The Night." "how Are Those Better Odds? If You Come Back With Me, You're Guaranteed To Survive The Night." "no," Reacher Said. "if I Come Back With You, I'm Guaranteed To Die Of Shame.

He Looked At The Pain And He Set Himself Apart From It. He Saw It, Examined It, Identified It, Corralled It. He Isolated It. He Challenged It. You Against Me? Dream On, Pal. He Built Borders For It. Then Walls. He Built Walls And Forced The Pain Behind Them And Then He Moved The Walls Inward, Compressing The Pain, Crushing It, Boxing It In, Limiting It, Beating It.

Printing Currency For Foreigners To Buy Is The Best Racket A Government Can Get Into.