I am willing to serve my country, but do not wish to sacrifice the brave men under my command.

He could not feel her near him in the darkness nor hear her voice touch his ear. He waited for some minutes listening. He could hear nothing: the night was perfectly silent. He listened again: perfectly silent. He felt that he was alone.

It is ... through the world of the imagination which takes us beyond the restrictions of provable fact, that we touch the hem of truth.

I handed my passport to the immigration officer, and he looked at it and looked at me and said, &#39;What are you?&#39;

Written By Grace Hopper

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