`` I've been mucking in a mine in the San Juan, but I used to work on a ranch.

A dominant motive is the poet's longing for his homeland and its boyhood associations: `` Not men-folk, but the fields where I would stray, The stones where as a child I used to play ''.

I used his polarity to illustrate what I thought had happened to us in that form of liberalism we call Progressivism.

I used to go with Watson to call on the eminent neurologist at his apartment, to sit among the doctor's excellent collection of statues, paintings, and books and drink Oriental coffee while Watson seemed to thaw out and become almost affable.

She used to tell me, `` When I stand there and look at the flag blowing this way and that way, I have the wonderful, safe feeling that Americans are protected no matter which way the wind blows ''.

I'm used to all three, but I think the French have the healthiest attitude ''.

It was just me and Eileen getting drunk together like we used to in the old days, and me staring at her across the table crazy to get my hands on her partly because I wanted to wring her neck because she was so ornery but mostly because she was so wonderful to touch.

I used to play with the older one sometimes, when he'd let me.

Passing through the gate, with towers on either side once used as prisons, I entered a huge square surrounded by buildings, and on the wall to my right found a general plan of the grounds, with explanations in English for each building.

I used a Homemaster Routo-Jig made by Porter Cable for this job.

I used bright red, mixing the pigment in thoroughly before adding the hardener.

For padding the seats and bunks, I used Ensolite, Type Aj.

I have used a variety of heavy-weight hand-made papers, but prefer an English make, rough surface, in 400-pound weight.

`` My brushes are different from those used by most watercolorists, for I combine the sable and the bristle.

As everybody is curious to see the battery of glass tubes I have invented, I have had quite a small one made here of four glass tubes ( in Copenhagen I used 30 ) and intend to carry it with me ''.

A somewhat less fragmented hebephrenic patient of mine, who used to often seclude herself in her room, often sounded through the closed door -- as I would find on passing by, between our sessions -- for all the world like two persons, a scolding mother and a defensive child.

For example, one hebephrenic man used to annoy me, month after month, by saying, whenever I got up to leave and made my fairly steoreotyped comment that I would be seeing him on the following day, or whenever, `` You're welcome '', in a notably condescending fashion -- as though it were his due for me to thank him for the privilege of spending the hour with him, and he were thus pointing up my failure to utter a humbly grateful, `` thank you '' to him at the end of each session.

This country has not used them, and I hope that we never will be compelled to use them.

His first inaugural address speaks of `` my country whose voice I can never hear but with veneration and love ''.

But to me Beckett's writing had seemed permeated with love for human beings and with a kind of humor that I could reconcile neither with despair nor with nihilism.

In any case, Miss Millay's sweet-throated bitterness, her variations on the theme that the world was not only well lost for love but even well lost for lost love, her constant and wonderfully tragic posture, so unlike that of Fitzgerald since it required no scenery or props, drew from the me that I was when I fell upon her verses an overwhelming yea.

But all this, I am well aware, is the bel canto of love, and although I have always liked to think that it was to the bel canto and to that alone that I listened, I know well enough that it was not.

If I am to speak the whole truth about my knowledge of love, I will have to stop trying to emulate the transcendant nightingale.

Just as I was about to enlarge upon my discovery of the underside of the leaf of love, memory, displeased at being asked to yield its unsavory secrets, dashed ahead of me, calling back over its shoulder: `` Skip it.

However, it was not of innocence in general that I was speaking, but of perhaps the frailest and surely the least important side of it which is innocence in romantic love.

I had long since begun to lose my general innocence when I lost my trust in you, but this special innocence I lost before ever I loved, through my discovery that one could tremble with desire and even experience a flaming delight that had nothing, nothing whatever to do with friendship or liking, let alone with love.

`` I mean '', I went on ruthlessly, `` when he's not talking about you or himself or the wonders of love, is he interesting??

His very honest act called up the recent talk I had with another minister, a modest Methodist, who said: `` I feel so deeply blessed by God when I can give a message of love and comfort to other men, and I would have it no other way: and it is unworthy to think of self.

A fellow came up to me, a Senator, I don't have to tell you his name, and he told me, ' I love the President like a brother, but God damn it, he's crucifying me.

I have just asked these questions in the Pentagon, in the White House, in offices of key scientists across the country and aboard the submarines that prowl for months underwater, with neat rows of green launch tubes which contain Polaris missiles and which are affectionately known as `` Sherwood Forest ''.

Others mentioned that I might have had to ask friends or even strangers for help and that to be stranded in a foreign country without sufficient funds did not contribute to international understanding.

`` I have just come from viewing a man who had made the fortune of his country, but now is working all night in order to support his family '', he reflected.

When it comes to this, I shall prefer emigrating to some country where they make no pretence of loving liberty -- to Russia, for instance, where despotism can be taken pure, without the base alloy of hypocrisy '' ( His emphasis )

But first I want to quote him on the relationship that he found between religion and politics in this country and what happened to it.

after all, the large ( and probably unreliable ) Reader's Digest literature on the `` most unforgettable character I ever met '' deals with village grocers, country doctors, favorite if illiterate aunts, and so forth.

I am proud of my country, the small city I live in, my wonderful parents, my friends and my school ; ;

I am referring to this country conducting atmosphere tests of nuclear bombs just because Russia is.

I am firmly convinced that considering the average quality of teachers in this country, the profession is grossly overpaid.

I am interested to know he is getting mail from all over the country about the `` abuse '' he is being subjected to.

I don't know if this is the situation in other parts of the country ; ;

All I ever wanted was to be a free man in my own country.

Then I have seen the pride of country well in the eyes of these young people.

Here briefly in this humble tribute I have sought for some simple and succinct summation that would define the immense service of this patriot to his country.

And, if we follow the Rayburn pattern, as consciously or by an instinctual political sense I like to think I have followed it, then the very nature of our loyalty to our own immediate areas must necessarily be reflected in the devotion of our services to our country.

Sam Rayburn is one of the greatest American public figures in the history of our country and I consider that I have been singly honored in the privilege of knowing Sam Rayburn and sharing with him the rights and obligations of a Member of the House of Representatives in the Congress of the United States.

I doubt, for example, that, 3 months before the leadership began to talk about what came to be the Marshall plan, any public-opinion expert would have said that the country would have accepted such proposals.

I wonder if anyone ever bothered to make the point that when it comes to boats and their motors, Americans excel over any country in the world in the long run.

I have already mentioned that Mr. Timothy Palmer of Newburyport was the inventor of the arched bridges in this country.

It now means, in my country, homosexual '', I said.