The wicked fell when noneth perish you must pay for everything in this world, one way or another mama was never good at sums and can hardly spell 'cat' He is a pitiless man double tough and fear don't enter into his thinking I was just fourteen years of age when a coward by the name of Tom Chaney shot my father down in Fort Smith Arkensew. I intend to see Papa's killer hanged I felt like Ezekiel in the valley of the Dry Bones It was a cold blooked bush wack They tell me your a man of true grit They will need help with the churning Your no bigger than a corn nubbin I don't believe in fairy tales or sermons or stories about money baby sister Though I walk through the valley of death the shadows of death the author of all things watches over me and I have a fine horse. Papa's death will soon be avenged. You go for a man hard enough and fast enough he don't have time to think about how many is with him The distinction is between an act that is wrong in itself and an act that is wrong only according to our laws and mores By the time we reached Bagby's store my hand had turned black. I was not awake when I lost the arm. The marshall had stayed with me i was told until i was out of danger. Keep your seat trash It is true I never married I never had time to fool with it
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