Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death

On this day, March 23rd, 1775, Patrick Henry stirred a nation with his words.


Patrick Henry’s “Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death” Speech
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The question before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country.


Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. [But] Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.


Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on.


I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to comfort themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been
lately received? Trust it not, sir. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask
yourselves, are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. And what have we to oppose to them?


We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of Parliament.


Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrance’s have produced additional
violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation? There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to
arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. The war is actually begun! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

Shift – A Happy Home

Continued from scene eighteen


The couch made my back hurt overnight, but she got the point. Seven years older or not, things were going to change.

“Get up; we’ve got some decisions to make.”

Apparently, the argument wasn’t over.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning. It can wait.”

“No, it can’t. Every decision I make involves our family. So get your ass up off the couch. After all, you’ve been a shifter for well over a week now. So you should be capable of making decisions about our family and the lives of shifters you barely know. And the dynamics of tribal politics should be a breeze for someone with your fortitude and knowledge. I don’t know what I was thinking when I made those DECISIONS without you.”

“You knew what I meant yesterday, so come down off your high horse. I get it; I’m not there yet as a shifter. But I’m going to be your husband and the father of our child. So a little respect on your end isn’t too much to ask.”

I waited for a reply, but she stumbled over her words.

“You’re––well, I guess.” The phone saved her from having to say more.

“I’ll send him over after we eat.”

Hanging up, she turned, arms crossed. “Looks like your man brain is needed after all. Decker wants help with Kate’s therapy.”

Karen’s loss of words was short-lived. After breakfast, she smiled and led me to the front door, where she said, “Don’t work too hard today. I’ll be sure to clean the house and have dinner ready when you get home.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on me as I drove off in her old pickup truck. Looking back through the mirror, I saw her blow a kiss, and I could not help thinking I should have kept my big fat mouth shut.

Continue to scene twenty


Shift is an online work of fiction.

This is the first draft of my manuscript Shift – Don’t judge a book by its cover. I am writing it online in sections as I go. So feel free to comment, good or bad. If you see mistakes, point them out.

The story centers around shapeshifting.

I’m currently working on chapter nine.

Every Yard Is A Grave

My post-apocalyptic novella “Every Yard Is A Grave,” has been released for sale for on Amazon as a Paperback and Kindle ebook. It is also available on iBook and other formats as well.

If you decide to read “Every Yard Is A Grave,” I would appreciate a review on Amazon. Your review will help the book’s ranking in the Amazon search results.

If you would like to become a fan of “Every Yard Is A Grave,” and the “Last Hope” series you can sign up for my newsletter.

Beta reader for post-apocalyptic novella

I have finished the second draft of a post-apocalyptic novella, and I am looking for volunteer Beta readers who would like to read the manuscript before I send it in for a final edit.

For those that do not know, beta readers are anyone who likes to read; in this case, apocalyptic fiction.

Betas review finished manuscripts before they’re published, providing the author with feedback from the reader’s point of view.

If you would like to be one of my beta readers, email me at – timothyfrench15@yahoo.com

I have provided a synopsis of the book below.

Synopsis

One by one, America’s great cities are falling due to a years-long volcanic winter, and the tourist town of Beech Mountain, NC, is no different. Its citizens, now desperate and fearful, are divided. Gone are the days when you could walk into a grocery store to buy what you need; money is useless. Food is the only thing of value, and it’s not for sale; people who have it intend to keep it, and those that don’t intend to take it away. It’s the only thing people think about anymore. To not have it is to die.