I Could Write For Hours

You Wonder What I Am Doing? Well, So Do I, In Truth. Days Seem To Dawn, Suns To Shine, Evenings To Follow, And Then I Sleep. What I Have Done, What I Am Doing, What I Am Going To Do, Puzzle And Bewilder Me. Have You Ever Been A Leaf And Fallen From Your Tree In Autumn And Been Really Puzzled About It? That’s The Feeling.

It Seemed That Rebellion Must Have An Unassailable Base, Something Guarded Not Merely From Attack, But From The Fear Of It: Such A Base As We Had In The Red Sea Parts, The Desert, Or In The Minds Of The Men We Converted To Our Creed.

To Me An Unnecessary Action, Or Shot, Or Casualty, Was Not Only Waste But Sin.

The Printing Press Is The Greatest Weapon In The Armoury Of The Modern Commander.

The Literature Of Disease Is More Interesting To Me Than All The Healthy Books.