I Shall Laugh My Bitter Laugh.

Like All Of Us Sinners, General Betrishchev Was Endowed With Many Virtues And Many Defects. Both The One And The Other Were Scattered Through Him In A Sort Of Picturesque Disorder. Self-sacrifice, Magnanimity In Decisive Moments, Courage, Intelligence--and With All That, A Generous Mixture Of Self-love, Ambition, Vanity, Petty Personal Ticklishness, And A Good Many Of Those Things Which A Man Simply Cannot Do Without.

A Time Of Famine And Poverty Will Come And The People As A Whole As Well As Every Individual In It Will Suffer.

There Are Occasions When A Woman, No Matter How Weak And Impotent In Character She May Be In Comparison With A Man, Will Yet Suddenly Become Not Only Harder Than Any Man, But Even Harder Than Anything And Everything In The World.

There Exists A Kind Of Laughter Which Is Worthy To Be Ranked With The Higher Lyric Emotions And Is Infinitely Different From The Twitching Of A Mean Merrymaker.

Of Course, Alexander The Great Was A Hero, But Why Smash The Chairs?