"I Will Fight No More Forever"
by Chief Joseph

Tell General Howard I know his heart. What he told me before, I have in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking glass is dead. Toohoolhoolzote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes and no. He who led on the young men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills and have no blankets, no food; no one knows where they are--perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children and see how many I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.

Executive Mansion, Washington,
November 21, 1864

Mrs. Bixby, Boston Massachusetts:

Dear Madam:

I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant-General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the republic they died to save. I pray our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

Yours very sincerely and respectfully,

Abraham Lincoln

These aphorisms were taken from Poor Richard's Almanack. They can therefore be attributed to Benjamin Franklin.

Hunger is the best pickle.

He that lives upon hope will die fasting.

Fish and visitors will smell in three days.

Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.

If your head is wax, don't walk in the sun.

Necessity never made a good bargain.

Love your neighbor; yet don't pull down your hedge.

A slip of the foot you may soon recover, but a slip of the tongue you may never get over.

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

God helps them who helps themselves.

Three may keep a secret if two of them are dead.

Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them.

God heals and the doctor takes the fee.

The rotten apple spoils his companions.

If you would know the value of money, try to borrow some.

A small leak will sink a great ship.

Drive thy business; let it not drive thee.

Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time; for that's the stuff life is made of.

Genius without education is like silver in the mine.

The cat in gloves catches no mice.

I wasn't sure where to put this. This poetic rant is an entry in Laurie's web page. I liked it so much that I had to put it somewhere on my page. Enjoy.

I'll be exactly the person I want to be.... Starting tomorrow.

Meaning, I'm a bit forlorn now. I don't know why. I think I read Wayne's email and saw bits and pieces of myself in it. And I'm listening to "Out of Time" by REM, which despite the fact that it contains Shiny Happy People, makes me depressed. But good depressed. I'm the kind of person who likes to be a little depressed. I like artistic minimalism. To me, the feeling of depression, of a little tinge of lonely, of an overcast forlorness is like a canvas coated in white with barely there brush marks. Emptiness is lovely. Maybe I just like to make myself miserable. But it's a good misery, a contented misery. Which I know sounds horribly strange, but it's true. I love to be sad. I'm happy if I'm sad. I love unrequited love. I wouldn't have it any other way. I love it when it rains outside, when the violins start to play and you can't help but feel your eyes start to get moist. Not to the point of tears, however. It's a line to walk, you have to keep balanced. But ah, to be miserable. To be miserable on your own terms. That is the way life should be. That is life when you make art.

Of course, I'm a happy person. Don't get me wrong, okay? I just like old abandoned warehouses. I like the dingeyness of the subway. I like city streets. I like shades of grey. I like white. I like nails and wood and white paint. I like understatement.

My mind is racing.

I want to live life in a minor key. I want to live minor tragety. I want to see things that are simplely beautiful. Not because they are gold, painted bright colors, but because they are dignified, have survived the test of time. The most beautiful things are those that have been distressed. Where is the wonder in a queen with a golden crown on her head? Oh, quite lovely, I'll admit, but missing the atriubutes that relates her to myself. I'll never sit on a throne with jewlery weighing me down. I will however, grow old. I will work, be dirty, get distressed, but stronger, with time. My eyes will grow dim with age. By feet will grow calloused and tired. And this will be beautiful. This will be the art I want to create. This is the survival of the human race. Not glamourous. But dignified. Real. Not gold and glitz. Wood and white and nails.

This is who we are. These are our roots.

I want to live my life in a minor key.

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