Listen! John A. Logan is the Head Center, the Hub, the King Pin, the Main Spring, Mogul and Mugwump of the final plot by which partisanship was installed in the Commission.
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Editorial in New York Tribune (Feb. 16, 1877).Isaac H. Bromley
» Isaac H. Bromley - all quotes »
Sure, all the GTA games. They've been advertised on Sports Center on ESPN at 2, 3, 4, 5pm in the afternoon. Dad's at work then, Einstein.
Secondly, all the gamer magazines have featured ads for those and similar games. I guess you missed the Federal Trade Commission report of the federal government on just that issue. You can keep asking questions, but if you don't listen and don't care for the answer, then you're the functional equivalent of a moron. Is that clear enough for you?Jack Thompson
‘Listen John—’
‘Who’s John?’
‘You’re John.’
‘I’m John?’
‘Yeah, I changed your name.’Dave Eggers
Now Tom was - the hell with that, he said to himself. It is something that happens to everybody. I should know about that by now. It is the only thing that is really final, though.
How do you know that? he asked himself. Going away can be final. Walking out the door can be final. Any form of real betrayal can be final. Dishonesty can be final. Selling out is final. But you are just talking now. Death is what is really final.Ernest Hemingway
At last the final act was at hand. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifted up the crown of England from its cushion and held it out over the trembling mock-King's head. In the same instant a rainbow-radiance flashed along the spacious transept; for with one impulse every individual in the great concourse of nobles lifted a coronet and poised it over his or her head—and paused in that attitude.
A deep hush pervaded the Abbey. At this impressive moment, a startling apparition intruded upon the scene—an apparition observed by none in the absorbed multitude, until it suddenly appeared, moving up the great central aisle. It was a boy, bareheaded, ill shod, and clothed in coarse plebeian garments that were falling to rags. He raised his hand with a solemnity which ill comported with his soiled and sorry aspect, and delivered this note of warning—
"I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfeited head. I am the King!"Samuel Langhorne (Mark Twain) Clemens
At last the final act was at hand. The Archbishop of Canterbury lifted up the crown of England from its cushion and held it out over the trembling mock-King's head. In the same instant a rainbow-radiance flashed along the spacious transept; for with one impulse every individual in the great concourse of nobles lifted a coronet and poised it over his or her head—and paused in that attitude.
A deep hush pervaded the Abbey. At this impressive moment, a startling apparition intruded upon the scene—an apparition observed by none in the absorbed multitude, until it suddenly appeared, moving up the great central aisle. It was a boy, bareheaded, ill shod, and clothed in coarse plebeian garments that were falling to rags. He raised his hand with a solemnity which ill comported with his soiled and sorry aspect, and delivered this note of warning—
"I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfeited head. I am the King!"Mark Twain
Bromley, Isaac H.
Bronowski, Jacob
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