When I grow up I'm going to be a small businessman, APPARENTLY THERE'S A POT OF GOLD AT THE END OF THAT RAINBOW.
Starve The Beast Is the Most Ill Concived Peice of Political Theory
When I grow up I'm going to be a small businessman, APPARENTLY THERE'S A POT OF GOLD AT THE END OF THAT RAINBOW.
There, but for the grace of God, goes John Bradford
My aim, then, was to whip the rebels, to humble their pride, to follow them to their inmost recesses, and make them fear and dread us. Fear is the beginning of wisdom.
I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation.
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