My ranch William S. Hart Park is for the benefit of the American Public of every race and creed.
Make sure you are the boss. I don't think I would encourage executives that work for me to blog. There can be only 1 public vision for an organization.
For a war to be just three conditions are necessary - public authority, just cause, right motive.
There's no doubt that usually a president's public image is enhanced by going to war. That never did appeal to me.
For a decade or more after the Vietnam war, the people who had guided the U.S. to disaster decently shrank from the public stage.
Voting, we might even say, is the next to last refuge of the politically impotent. The last refuge is, of course, giving your opinion to a pollster, who will get a version of it through a desiccated question, and then will submerge it in a Niagara of...
Public truth telling is a form of recovery, especially when combined with social action. Sharing traumatic experiences with others enables victims to reconstruct repressed memory, mourn loss, and master helplessness, which is trauma's essential insul...
The code of the National Association of Broadcasters enunciates as a cardinal principle in American radio the provision of time by stations, without charge, for the presentation of public questions of a controversial nature. At the same time, it advi...
Ian was a good man—honest, trustworthy, loyal, and of honorable character. His desire to keep his promise to Angelle and to be a respectable servant of Harrowbeth would always take president over any personal feelings, no matter how intense or grat...
...So far I have restrained myself. For how much longer, I do not know. I have never known such happiness, shot through with such misery. Only four days have passed, they tell me. But that is not true. It has been decades since I saw you last. You wi...
Fyodor Pavlovitch was drunk when he heard of his wife's death, and the story is that he ran out into the street and began shouting with joy, raising his hands to Heaven: "Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace," but others say he wept wit...
We forget the gospel when we neglect our adoption and think that we're still just a hired servant. The Father doesn't let us come to him on those terms. We will either come as sons or we will stay with the pigs. He won't let us earn anything from him...
I stand here on the summit of the mountain. I lift my head and I spread my arms. This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest. I wished to know the meaning of all things. I am the meaning. I wished to find a warrant for being. I need no war...
I know that a stranger's hand will write to me next, to say that the good and faithful servant has been called at length into the joy of his Lord. And why weep for this? No fear of death will darken St. John's last hour: his mind will be unclouded; h...
Some daughter of one of the gentry planters, perhaps? Those girls had the domestic virtues. But — he was comfortable enough with his good servants at Fairfield House. His yearnings had little relation to somebody to preside over his household. Some...
Did you know that Bharatiyar used the pen name “Shelley-dasan”? He admired the poems of Shelley so deeply that he wrote under the name “Shelley’s servant”. Wasn’t that a wonderful gesture of humility by someone who was such a great poet h...
There were nights for instance, especially in August, where the view of the full moon from the top of the Acropolis hill or from a high terrace could steal your breath away. The moon would slide over the clouds like a seducing princess dressed in her...
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another woman sitting over in a wing chair, a pleasantly attractive lady wearing the tasteful clothes of a senior redactrice, or senior civil servant, the stylish black skirt, the dark stockings, the black pumps, ...
I am exalted over all the nations, my glory above the heavens. Splendor and majesty are before me; strength and glory are in my sanctuary. I wrap myself in light as with a garment; I stretch out the heavens like a tent and lay the beams of my upper c...
Amid the worry of a self- condemnatory soliloquy, his demeanour seemed grave, perhaps cold, both to me and his mother. And yet there was no bad feeling, no malice, no rancour, no littleness in his countenance, beautiful with a man's best beauty, even...
He wanted most of all the people of his own mind, people with whom he could really talk, people he could harangue and scold by the hour, servants, you see, to his fancy. Among these people he was always self-confident and bold. They might talk, to be...