It Is A Sad Day When One

Sarcasm... The Protest Of Those Who Are Weak.

The Scornful Force Of His Tone Turned The Word Into A Curse

Nothing Endures. Not A Tree. Not Love. Not Even Death By Violence.

The Summer Of 1943 At Exeter Was As Happy A Time As I Ever Had In My Life.

All Of Them, All Except Phineas, Constructed At Infinite Cost To Themselves These Maginot Lines Against This Enemy They Thought They Saw Across The Frontier, This Enemy Who Never Attacked That Way-if He Ever Attacked At All; If He Was Indeed The Enemy.