Who is more to be pitied a writer bound and gagged by policemen or one living in perfect freedom who has nothing more to say?
All this happened more or less. The war parts anyway are pretty much true.
Men must stop being jealous of their power and generously allow freedom and...
Mom was 50 when my Dad died. She got on a bus every weekday for years and rode 40 miles each morning to Madison. She earned a new degree and learned new skills to start her small business. It wasn't just a new livelihood. It was a new life.