Day 734

I break bread with my children.

Day 731

Harvest! O, blessed, the season of my bounty!

Day 730

My pain brings me closer to these people. What I suffer is the emblem of their struggle.

Day 728

Love hurts. I get that.

Day 727

I awake in the fetal position.

Day 725

I have given too much.

Day 723

The German asks much. I give what I can give.

Day 722

An understanding, yes, but I still bristle when he works with my people. What is this feeling?

Day 720

My world is made whole by the good of the children. I am manifest in their good deeds and pure hearts, their long and lithe bodies glistening with the good sweat of work.

Day 716

The German and I have reached an understanding.

Day 715

Are these hands that work for the good not the tools of angels?

Day 713

But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep.

Day 711

I would write these people a new Constitution. I would give them liberty to prosper and be good. The German understands neither the means nor the purpose.

Day 709

These cracked calloused hands : besmirch them not for they are the hands of freedom.

Day 708

Days of work, and the night. I rise early to continent myself.

Day 705

I bathe naked at dawn in the pond.

Day 704

Is my work good because there is the a great need, or is the need great because of my good work?