People would pump all the blood from your heart... they'll drain you then turn around and ask you why your heart changed color ...

Our religion, our party, our tribe, our town, our school, our race, our nation. Believe. Belong. Behave. Or Be damned.

I try to not get to the point where one is making wallpaper, or simply painting money. I want to make sure that I am at least trying to weigh myself down, that there&#39;s a challenge each time.

The anchors now made are contrived so as to sink into the ground as soon as they reach it, and to hold a great strain before they can be loosened or dislodged from their station.

Written By William Falconer

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