Today In America Vast Concourses

"i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That Ye May Be Mistaken." I Should Like To Have That Written Over The Portals Of Every Church, Every School, And Every Courthouse, And, May I Say, Of Every Legislative Body In The United States. I Should Like To Have Every Court Begin, "i Beseech Ye In The Bowels Of Christ, Think That We May Be Mistaken."

If The Prosecution Of Crime Is To Be Conducted With So Little Regard For That Protection Which Centuries Of English Law Have Given To The Individual, We Are Indeed At The Dawn Of A New Era; And Much That We Have Deemed Vital To Our Liberties, Is A Delusion.

We May Win When We Lose, If We Have Done What We Can; For By So Doing We Have Made Real At Least Some Part Of That Finished Product In Whose Fabrication We Are Most Concerned: Ourselves.

Words Are Not Pebbles In Alien Juxtaposition.

As Soon As We Cease To Pry About At Random, We Shall Come To Rely Upon Accredited Bodies Of Authoritative Dogma; And As Soon As We Come To Rely Upon Accredited Bodies Of Authoritative Dogma, Not Only Are The Days Of Our Liberty Over, But We Have Lost The Password That Has Hitherto Opened To Us The Gates Of Success As Well.