the tire of war
Toward the end of a dinner of prime roast beef, baked potato, salad, apple pie, and coffee, Sam Barlow would ask, Well, young man, do you think you have had sufficient to suffonsify?
Well, young man, do you think you have had sufficient to suffonsify?
[A]lthough thou averrest this, and averrest it truly, we are nevertheless constrained to plead guilty to the possession of so much of this sensibility a refusal to hear details as that they case once proved, our feeling of duty refuses to sustain us any longer against that combined and overwhelming influence of shattered nerves and a sickened heart.
You are a bucketful of green, observed Frank when I flopped over onto my back and looked up at him standing tall and dripping against the Texas sky. You're mighty lucksome the river's so low.
You are a bucketful of green,
You're mighty lucksome the river's so low.
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