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"'Blow, winds, and crack your checks! my home Stands firm beneath Jove's rattling dome, This stable Earth. Here let me work! The busy spirits that eager lurk Within a thousand laboring breasts Here let me rouse; and whoso rests From labor, let him rest from life. To 'live's to strive; and in the strife To move the rock and stir the clod Man makes himself a god!"
"Ain't no female strangers yar-abouts. Blue eyes?" "Yes." "An' ha'r that sometimes looks black an' sometimes yaller-brown?" "Yes, that's the one all right. Who is she?" "Oh, that!" said Old Mizzou with slight interest, "that's Bill Lawton's girl. Live's down th' gulch. He's th' fella' that was yar afore grub," he explained. For a full minute Bennington stared at the cards in his hand.
"A pile better," muttered Jerry Strann. "Seems like I got more'n a fightin' chance to pull through now." "Jest you keep lyin' here quiet," advised Dan Barry, "and don't stir around none. Don't start no worryin'. You're goin' to live's long as you don't lose no more blood. Keep your thoughts quiet.
He has a big pull with th' people in th' city hall." "Why should anny man want to kill a king?" said Mr. Dooley. "That's what I'd like to know. Little gredge have I again' anny monarch in th' deck. Live an' let live's me motto. Th' more ye have in this wurruld th' less ye have. Make in wan place, lose in another's th' rule, me boy. Little joy, little sorrow.
The bag of torn paper under his arm was fastened across one shoulder by a strap. The children stood back. The hare ran along the line, and the workmen leaned on their picks to watch him. He ran on steadily and disappeared into the mouth of the tunnel. "That's against the by-laws," said the foreman. "Why worry?" said the oldest workman; "live and let live's what I always say.
They walked downstairs backward, looking into a mirror to discover the particular masculine face which would fill their live's mirrors, though, unhappily some of the potency of the charm was lost because it could not be done upon the witching stroke of midnight.
I've about come to the conclusion that as long as the women are partly right and we are partly wrong I'm going to quit it, as far as I myself am concerned. But don't think for one minute that I fancy that I have a right to vote this town dry for any other man. Live and let live's my way of thinking and doing."
And shall the Traitor live that murder'd her? Gal. And will you by his Death, Sir, murder me? In dear Erminia's Death too much is done; If you revenge that Death, 'tis two for one. Org. Ah, Sir, to let him live's unjust in you. Gal. And killing me, you more injustice do. Org. Alcippus, Madam, merits not your Love, That could so cruel to Erminia prove. Gal.
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