Sunday, February the 26th, 2006
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“Home, that spot to which his heart is tied with unseen cords and tendrils tighter than the muscles which hold it in his swelling chest. Perhaps he left his Home caring little for it at the time. Perhaps harsh necessity drove him from its tender roof to lie beneath THE THATCH OF AVARICE. It does not matter. As the great river broadens in the Spring, so do his feelings swell and overflow his nature now. Why does he tremble, that rough, weather-beaten man?” — John McGovern, The Golden Censer