Don't Get It Right - Get It

This Was Like July 13th, 1943, The Pivotal Day Of The Battle Of The Kursk. We Were Like Alexander Vasilevsky, The Soviet General. If We Attacked Now, This Minute, We Had To Keep On And On Attacking Until The Enemy Was Run Off His Feet And The War Was Won. If We Bogged Down Or Paused For Breath Even For A Second, We Would Be Overrun Again.

People, Reacher Was Certain About. Dogs Were Different. People Had Freedom Of Choice. If A Man Or A Woman Ran Snarling Toward Him, They Did So Because They Chose To. They Were Asking For Whatever They Got. His Response Was Their Problem. But Dogs Were Different. No Free Will. Easily Misled. It Raised An Ethical Problem. Shooting A Dog Because It Had Been Induced To Do Something Unwise Was Not The Sort Of Thing Reacher Wanted To Do.

It Gives Me Some Kind Of Chance To Survive The Night." "how Are Those Better Odds? If You Come Back With Me, You're Guaranteed To Survive The Night." "no," Reacher Said. "if I Come Back With You, I'm Guaranteed To Die Of Shame.

For Men, As They Get Bogged Down With Responsibilities, Commitments, Bureaucracy, It Is A Fantasy Just To Think Of Shedding Everything Literally, Walking Away With Nothing At All, And Just Hitting The Road.

I Had A Teacher Once, Grade School Somewhere. Philippines, I Think, Because She Always Wore A Big White Hat. So It Was Somewhere Hot. I Was Always Twice The Size Of The Other Kids, And She Used To Say To Me: Count To Ten Before You Get Mad, Reacher. And I've Counted Way Past Ten On This One. Way Past.