At Times In My Life, I Have Been Utterly Lonely. At Other Times, I've Had Disgusting Infectious Diseases. Try Admitting These Things In Our Culture.
When You’re Young You Prefer The Vulgar Months, The Fullness Of The Seasons. As You Grow Older You Learn To Like The In-between Times, The Months That Can’t Make Up Their Minds. Perhaps It’s A Way Of Admitting That Things Can’t Ever Bear The Same Certainty Again.
They Gave Themselves Up Wholly To Their Sorrow, Seeking Increase Of Wretchedness In Every Reflection That Could Afford It, And Resolved Against Ever Admitting Consolation In Future.
Admitting The Force Of These Contentions, Nevertheless, The Custom Of Meeting Together In Public Assembly For The Consideration Of The Most Serious, The Most Exalted Topics Of Human Interest Is Too Vitally Precious To Be Lost.
