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These, in the day when heaven was falling, The hour when earth's foundations fled, Followed their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead. The British regulars who made the retreat from Mons, beginning August 24, 1914.
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I don't know much, but I know I love you... that may be all there is to know.
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In all her twisted perfection she had made me fall helplessly in love with her. A life without her in it seemed pointless.
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I'm still agnostic. But in the words of Elton Richards, I'm now a reverant agnostic. Which isn't an oxymoron, I swear. I now believe that whether or not there's a God, there is such a thing as sacredness. Life is sacred. The Sabbath can be a sacred day. Prayer can be a sacred ritual. There is something transcendent, beyond the everyday. It's possible that humans created this sacredness ourselves, but that doesn't take away from its power or importance.
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Psychoanalysts believe that the only "normal" people are those who cause not trouble to either themselves or anyone else.
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No one man is superior to the game.
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Men who would face torture without a word become blasphemous at the short fourteenth. It is clear that the game of golf may well be included in that category of intolerable provocations which may legally excuse or mitigate behaviour not otherwise excusable.
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The open ocean often takes you past your physical limits and when it does, sailing becomes a mental game.
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The rule of the game was never assume that anybody, however honorable, would be able to stand up under torture. If Mr. X, who knew where I was, was caught for some reason, I should move.
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Cincinnati needs to take notes from Houston. Houston fans are among the top five fans in the game.
