When I was twelve I went hunting with my father and we shot a bird. He was laying there and something struck me. Why do we call this fun to kill this creature who was as happy as I was when I woke up this morning.
Suddenly a single shot on the extreme left rang out on the clear morning air followed quickly by several others and the whole line pushed rapidly forward through the brush.
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I think public service is a calling and you do it as long as the things that brought you into the office can continue getting you up in the morning and as long as there's still work to get done.
