In The Present Civil War

The Time Has Come When I Am For Everybody Fighting The Rebels. Let Indians Fight Them; Let The Negroes Fight Them; And If You Have Got Any Strong-legged Jackasses In Iwoa That Can Kick Rebels To Death, They Have My Hearty Consent.

In A Certain Sense, And To A Certain Extent, He [the President] Is The Representative Of The People. He Is Elected By Them, As Well As Congress Is. But Can He, In The Nature [of] Things, Know The Wants Of The People, As Well As Three Hundred Other Men, Coming From All The Various Localities Of The Nation? If So, Where Is The Propriety Of Having A Congress?

Elections Belong To The People. It's Their Decision. If They Decide To Turn Their Back On The Fire And Burn Their Behinds, Then They Will Just Have To Sit On Their Blisters.

A Good, Real, Unrestrained, Hearty Laugh Is A Sort Of Glorified Internal Massage, Performed Rapidly And Automatically. It Manipulates And Revitalizes Corners And Unexplored Crannies Of The System That Are Unresponsive To Most Other Exercise Methods. With The Fearful Strain That Is On Me Night And Day, If I Did Not Laugh I Should Die.

My Old Father Used To Have A Saying: If You Make A Bad Bargain, Hug It All The Tighter.