Most People Hate The Taste Of Beer

I'm Just Preparing My Impromptu Remarks.

I Was Born Under The Blue Ridge, And Under That Side Which Is Blue In The Evening Light, In A Wild Land Of Game And Forest And Rushing Waters.

There Is More Blood Than Paint Upon These Hands. All Those Thousands Of Men Killed. We Thought It Would Be A Little Job, And So It Might Have Been If It Had Begun In The Right Way.

We Do Not War With Races Primarily As Such. Tyranny Is Our Foe. Whatever Trapping Or Disguise It Wears, Whatever Language It Speaks, Be It External Or Internal, We Must For Ever Be On Our Guard, Ever Mobilized, Ever Vigilant, Always Ready To Spring At Its Throat. In All This We March Together. Not Only Do We March And Strive Shoulder To Shoulder At This Moment, Under The Fire Of The Enemy On The Fields Of War Or In The Air, But Also In Those Realms Of Thought Which Are Consecrated To The Rights And The Dignity Of Man.

We Proceeded Systematically, Village By Village And We Destroyed The Houses, Filled Up The Wells, Blew Down The Towers, Cut Down The Shady Trees, Burned The Crops And Broke The Reservoirs In Punitive Devastation.