However, It Has Long Been Said That

I Leave You, Hoping That The Lamp Of Liberty Will Burn In Your Bosoms Until There Shall No Longer Be A Doubt That All Mean Are Created Free And Equal.

I Feel Rather Like A Rabbit That Has Taken A Fox For Its Pupil.

I Feel Like The Luckiest Guy On The Planet. But, I Literally Work All Day, Every Day, Seven Days A Week, 365 Days A Year, And That's Not An Exaggeration.

Father May Have Been Wanting In Some Things, But Here He Was Masterful. Night Upon Night, I Marveled At His Power To Hold Listeners In Rapt Attention. He Could Tell A Story With Such Detail, Such Flourish, That Afterwards A Man Could Swear It Had Been His Own Memory, And Not A Tale At All.

I Think Zombies Have Always Been An Easy Metaphor For Hard Times. Because They're This Big, Faceless, Brainless Group Of Evil Things That Will Work Tirelessly To Destroy You And Think Of Nothing Else.