At the order ldquo Let the execution begin rdquo a syringe full of midazolam was injected into Clayton Lockett rsquo s groin but the IV dislodged and the sedative was pumped into the prisoner rsquo s tissue instead of his vein Lockett remained alert He licked his lips and blinked The execut

My nephew has a tattoo Perhaps more than one but as I pause to picture I can clearly remember only the one It rsquo s a simple gothic cross running the length of his right bicep Although we live a little less distant than a two-hour car drive we dwell in different worlds He rsquo s just un

We are what we remember granted that memory is deep and wide and that sometimes who we are even who we rsquo ve been may yet surprise us Yet that which is completely forgotten if such be possible would be as though it had never occurred To be human is ever to reclaim one rsquo s past To live

As he saw it he didn rsquo t just make it He was history ldquo I am the revolution rdquo That was the explanation Napoleon Bonaparte offered in 1804 when he announced that he would be crowned Emperor of the young French republic As Bonaparte saw it stability would never come to France as lo

Try to imagine how distant our loved ones could be before Facetime Skype texting email even telephoning Then you can better appreciate the desperation of a colonial device one attempted far before its time It rsquo s retrieved in Malcolm Gaskill rsquo s Between Two Worlds How the English Bec

Most of us can picture a life preferable to the one we have Some of us spend entirely too time doing that We scarcely notice the details of the dream changing but the imagined life is even more variable than the real one The only constant seems the stubbornness of God in not granting our wishes

The psychological health of a saint tells us nothing about the God who normally guides, but sometimes supersedes, the natural order.

The morning of April 22 1915 French and Canadian soldiers were immovably entrenched to the north of Ypres a Belgian city in the Flemish province of West Flanders nbsp They saw a strange green-yellow cloud form above the opposing German trenches It then billowed across no man rsquo s land into

How history is recited matters almost as much as what happened When someone as talented as Shakespeare tells your tale the image stays fixed But I that am not shaped for sportive tricks Nor made to court an amourous looking-glass I that am rudely stamp rsquo d and want love rsquo s majestyTo stru

Hamlet expires saying ldquo The rest is silence rdquo nbsp When someone dies a stillness descends nbsp However feebly he might have communicated to us even a moment before mdash with a gesture or a sigh mdash the soul of the other enters a silence in death nbsp It rsquo s so final so abs