I Do Not Keep A

I Do Here In The Most Solemn And Bitter Manner Curse The Prime Minister Of England [sic] For Having Cumulated All His Other Betrayals Of The National Interest And Honour, By His Last Terrible Exhibition Of Dishonour, Weakness And Gullibility. The Depths Of Infamy Which Our Accurst "love Of Peace" Can Lower Us Are Unfathomable.

People Are Disposed To Mistake Predicting Troubles For Causing Troubles And Even For Desiring Troubles.

Independence, The Freedom Of A Self-governing Nation, Is In My Estimation The Highest Political Good, For Which Any Disadvantage, If Need Be, And Any Sacrifice Are A Cheap Price.

I Refer To The Misunderstanding Of Soviet Russia As An Aggressive Power, Militaristically And Ideologically Bent Upon World Domination 'seeing', To Quote A Recent Speech Of The British Prime Minister, 'the Rest Of The World As Its Rightful Fiefdom.' How Any Rational Person, Viewing Objectively The History Of The Last Thirty-five Years, Could Entertain This 'international Misunderstanding' Challenges, If It Does Not Defeat, Comprehension. The Notion Has No Basis In Fact... If Russia Is Bent On World Conquest, She Has Been Remarkably Slothful And Remarkably Unsuccessful.

I Do Not Keep A Diary. Never Have. To Write A Diary Every Day Is Like Returning To One's Own Vomit.