Some People Are Nobody's Enemies But Their

Thus, It Comes To Pass, That A Certain Room In A Certain Old Hall, Where A Certain Bad Lord, Baronet, Knight, Or Gentleman, Shot Himself, Has Certain Planks In The Floor From Which The Blood Will Not Be Taken Out. You May Scrape And Scrape, As The Present Owner Has Done, Or Plane And Plane, As His Father Did, Or Scrub And Scrub, As His Grandfather Did, Or Burn And Burn With Strong Acids, As His Great-grandfather Did, But, There The Blood Will Still Be - No Redder And No Paler - No More And No Less - Always Just The Same.

I Have Sometimes Sat Alone Here Of An Evening, Listening, Until I Have Made The Echoes Out To Be The Echoes Of All The Footsteps That Are Coming By And By Into Our Lives. "jerry, Say That My Answer Was, 'recalled To Life.

The Wine-shops Breed, In Physical Atmosphere Of Malaria And A Moral Pestilence Of Envy And Vengeance, The Men Of Crime And Revolution.

When The Wind Is Blowing And The Sleet Or Rain Is Driving Against The Dark Windows, I Love To Sit By The Fire, Thinking Of What I Have Read In Books Of Voyage And Travel.

I Believe That The Heaviest Blow Ever Dealt At Liberty's Head Will Be Dealt By This Nation In The Ultimate Failure Of Its Example To The Earth.