Twenty on a Thursday

As a would-be Revolutionist, you cannot allow yourselves to simply be “blown about” by every little wind of certainty.



A sore-head-City definition: Greed, one of civilization’s better alarm clocks.  “Get up, get up, it’s seven o’clock; goodbye Morpheus, Hello Dow & Jones.”



‘Tis been said that “Man is born free, but is everywhere in chains,” and I expound: “Change was born dollars and pounds, but is everywhere in nickels and dimes.”  “I say, pardon me, but can you break my twenty?  Not A twenty, but MY twenty.”



Your Revolutionist conduct of today will be forgotten tomorrow.

Behave as a Revolutionist, nonetheless.



Heard a man in the City, express his concern over the fact that opposites do not seem to always receive equal coverage.  For instance, he noted that store signs that say, “Open, Come In,” never on the reverse side read, “Closed, Go Away.”