You may not be able to change the world, but at least you can embarrass the guilty.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? Where, indeed. Many a badly stung survivor, faced with the aftermath of some relative's funeral, has ruefully concluded that the victory has been won hands down by a funeral establishment - in disastrously unequal battle.
Alas, poor Yorick! How surprised he would be to see how his counterpart of today is whisked off to a funeral parlor and is in short order sprayed, sliced, pierced, pickled, trussed, trimmed, creamed, waxed, painted, rouged and neatly dressed - transformed from a common corpse into a Beautiful Memory Picture.
Picking other people's brains is an art worth cultivating.
Gracious dying is a huge, macabre and expensive joke on the American public.
I have nothing against undertakers personally. It's just that I wouldn't want one to bury my sister.
the whole point of muck-raking, apart from all the jokes, is to try to do something about what you've been writing about. You may not be able to change the world but at least you can embarrass the guilty.
the prison system, inherently unjust and inhumane, is the ultimate expression of injustice and inhumanity in the society at large.
Enemies are, to me, as important as friends in my life, and when they die I mourn their passing.
Objectivity? I've always had an objective.
One is only really inwardly comfortable, so to speak, after one's life has assumed some sort of shape. Not just a routine, like studying or a job or being a housewife, but something more complete than all those, which would include goals set by oneself and a circle of life-time type friends. I think this is one of the hardest things to achieve, in fact often just trying doesn't achieve it but rather it seems to develop almost by accident.
The character and mentality of the keepers may be of more importance in understanding prisons than the character and mentality of the kept.
Things on the whole are much faster in America; people don't 'stand for election', they 'run for office.'
Funeralese has had its ups and downs. The word 'morticians,' first used in Embalmers Monthly for February, 1895, was barred by the Chicago Tribune in 1932, 'not for lack of sympathy with the ambition of undertakers to be well regarded, but because of it. If they haven't the sense to save themselves from their own lexicographers, we shall not be guilty of abetting them in their folly.
Growing up in the English countryside seemed an interminable process. Freezing winter gave way to frosty spring, which in turn merged into chilly summer-but nothing ever, ever happened.
[On the United States:] A nation which does not appreciate that the simple elocution exercise 'Merry Mary married hairy Harry' contains not one but three vowel sounds.
Society created the prison in its own image; will history, with its penchant for paradox, reverse those roles?
I discovered that Human Nature was not, as I had always supposed, a fixed and unalterable entity, that wars are not caused by a natural urge in men to fight, that ownership of land and factories is not necessarily the natural reward of greater wisdom and energy.
A thirteen-year-old is a kaleidoscope of different personalities, if not in most ways a mere figment of her own imagination. At that age, what and who you are depends largely on what book you happen to be reading at the moment.
Now there is a society where the funeral industry got completely out of control.
When is conduct a crime, and when is a crime not a crime? When "Somebody Up There" - a monarch, a dictator, a Pope, a legislator - so decrees.
Prison walls are meant not only to keep convicts in, but to keep the would-be investigator out.
lifelong enemies are, I think, as hard to make and as important to one's well-being as lifelong friends.
Things on the whole are faster in America; people don't stand for election, they run for office. If a person says he's sick, it doesn't mean regurgitating, it means ill. Mad means angry, not insane. Don't ask for the left-luggage; it's called a checkroom.
It is somehow reassuring to discover that the word travel is derived from travail, denoting the pains of childbirth.
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