Dawn: When men of reason go to bed.
(July 24, 1842 - January 11, 1914)
Morning is the best of all times in the garden. The sun is not yet hot. Sweet vapors rise from the earth. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Birds call to one another. Bees are already at work.
We just didn't make enough shots. That, and we put them on the line too many times, and they took advantage of that.
We do support the concept of having the private sector do the [repair and maintenance] work.
The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons