I have waited all my life and the decades before I was born. I was born then stolen. I wanted to crumble.
If you can chip out a man, a series of events start to unfold that can only be described as stunning, absolutely stunning. They occur up to Christmas Day itself.
The world looked left. The French Revolution continues on. In this chamber, the imprisoned poet arrested the President. He received a house.
In spite of that – now listen to my next words, because I believe them – I know I am correct. Thank God.
I have a suspicion that some people matter, horrible things have taken place.
Just 72 hours ago they were predicting that would be shortly history. But history remains pluperfect. It did not happen.
So I am going to take this broad out and, in general, repeat what I said for forty years, at least, back to when I was 16 years of age — and I am 56 now.
I have been described as a “big person” whether cast as a Communist or anti-Communist.
Well, let us start off with today. Begin in the morning. The morning after. The morning after hangover – violet, remarkable, far from complete, still entrenched, raw, deeply a mess.
Help from Washington? When? When, God willing, on April 25? Or right now?
How many times did I bank a penny and of course was ignored by many people.
Many people say that good news deserves to be savored while fresh failure is secret.
I guessed wrong about the outcome of a victory. I stole the country that was stolen back.
I hate to read – a line is still a ghost.
At every meeting we should recall the ground into rubble.
Tank treads walked across my younger son. Dreaming that this could happen, I continue in isolation.
I pause for a prayer. Please, God, please give the people of Cuba the exhilarating thrill that people are feeling in Lithuania over the weekend.
And just across that little gulf in time? You bet it does end.
blackout composition, source: remarks by Rep. Robert Dornan, The Congressional Record 101st Congress, February 27, 1990, pp. H200-H202.