We Build Dwellings And Thereafter They Build

It Is Conceivable That I Might Well Be Reborn As A Chinese Coolie. In Such Case I Should Lodge A Protest.

Let Us Reconcile Ourselves To The Mysterious Rhythm Of Our Destinies, Such As They Must Be In This World Of Space And Time.

"i Have Not Made Any Arrogant, Confident, Boasting Predictions At All. On The Contrary, I Have Stuck Hard To My "blood, Toil, Tears And Sweat," To Which I Have Added Muddle And Mismanagement, And That, To Some Extend I Must Admit, Is What You Have Got Out Of It."

Perfectionism Spells Paralysis.

For The First Time I Heard Shots Fired In Anger, Heard Bullets Strike Flesh Or Whistle Through The Air.