There Is Poetry In A Pork Chop

In Less Than Twenty-five Years . . . The Motor-car Will Be Obsolete, Because The Aeroplane Will Run Along The Ground As Well As Fly Over It.

I Am Going To Fight - I, A Socialist And Syndicalist - So That We Shall Make An End To War, So That The Little Ones Of France Will Sleep In Peace, And The Women Go Without Fear.

It Was So Quiet That Morning In Paris That The Heels Of My Two Companions And Myself Were Loud On The Deserted Pavements. It Was A City Of Shuttered Shops, And Barred Windows, And Deserted Avenues.

During The Early Months Of The War In 1914 There Was A Conflict Of Opinion Between The War Office And The Foreign Office Regarding News From The Front.

We Who Go Out To Die Shall Be Remembered, Because We Gave The World Peace. That Will Be Our Reward, Though We Will Know Nothing Of It, But Lie Rotting In The Earth - Dead.