I&#39;m tired of being considered some kind of criminal or dangerous throwback for no other reason than that I value, exercise, and defend my rights under the first ten Amendments to the United States Constitution.

The glories of our blood and state, Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate, Death lays his icy hand on kings. Scepter and crown must tumble down, And, in the dust, be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

I&#39;m not sure a candidate ever feels his message is getting out.

And you'll sit beside me, and we'll look, not at visions, but at realities.

Written By Edith Wharton

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