"Oh, No!" he gasped as he surveyed the disaster before him. Never in his 40 years of life had he seen anything like it. How anyone could have survived he did not know.
He could only hope that somewhere amid the overwhelming destruction he would find his 16-year-old son. Only the slim hope of finding Danny kept him from turning and fleeing the scene. He took a deep breath and proceeded.
"When the debate is lost, slander becomes the tool of the losers."
A woman had a beautiful black cat with white feet, named Socks. Socks spent his days outside and came indoors only at night. One cool October evening, he disappeared.
Two angels are talking on Cloud #8 when one says,
"We don't develop new patterns by unearthing old ones; we develop new patterns by intentionally behaving in new ways."