I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stockyards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it.
And you'll always love me won't you? Yes And the rain won't make any difference? No
Anglers have a way of romanticizing their battles with fish.
We're always lucky,' I said and like a fool I did not knock on wood.
All stories, if continued far enough, end in death.
Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today. It's been that way all this year. It's been that way so many times. All of war is that way.