Last summer I picked up a yellow scrap of newspaper and read of a Biloxi election in 1948, and in it I caught the smell of history more pungently than from the metal marker telling of the French and Spanish two hundred years ago and the Yankees one hundred years ago. 1948. What a faroff time.

No country can be well governed unless its citizens as a body keep religiously before their minds that they are the guardians of the law, and that the law officers are only the machinery for its execution, nothing more.

when you Got played leave it atleast you are worth for someone to play

She yawns for men and not with her mouth. She weeps for men and not with her eyes. She drinks men down, she is a cave for me.

Written By Thomas Keneally

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