We in the United States, above all, must remember that lesson, for we were founded as a nation of openness to people of all beliefs. And so we must remain. Our very unity has been strengthened by our pluralism. We establish no religion in this country, we command no worship, we mandate no belief, nor will we ever. Church and state are, and must remain, separate. All are free to believe or not believe, all are free to practice a faith or not, and those who believe are free, and should be free, to speak of and act on their belief.”
Further went on to say —
“We must never remain silent in the face of bigotry. We must condemn those who seek to divide us. In all quarters and at all times, we must teach tolerance and denounce racism, anti-Semitism, and all ethnic or religious bigotry wherever they exist as unacceptable evils. We have no place for haters in America — none, whatsoever.
Even as someone who’s labeled a conservative – I’m a Republican, I’m black, I’m heading up this organization in the Reagan administration – I can say that conservatives don’t exactly break their necks to tell blacks that they’re welcome
When your coworkers are posting Ronald Reagan quotes on facebook, like the man didnt let hundreds of thousands of queer men die of AIDs, actively sabotage oir education system, work directly to fund terrorists in acts of treason, and make himself and his buddies rich while doing it, but you gotta work with them every single day and pissing them off is a bad idea.
There was a crowd in the street. In the centre there rose the bulk of Constable Dorfl, and a key thing about the golem was that if he was banging a drum then no-one was going to ask him to stop. No-one except possibly Lord Rust, who strode up and snatched the drumsticks out of his hands.
“Yerss, it are species of your choice’s life in der First of Foot!” shouted Sergeant Detritus, unaware of the events going on behind him. “You learnin’ a trade! You learnin’ self-respek! Also you get spiffy uniform plus all der boots you can eat – here, dat’s my banner!”
“What’s the meaning of this?” said Rust, flinging the homemade banner on to the ground. “Vimes can’t do this!”
A figure detached itself from the wall, where it had been watching the show.
“You know, I rather think I can,” said Vimes. He handed Rust a piece of paper. “It’s all here, my lord. With references citing the highest authorities, in case you are in any doubt.”
“On the role of a knight, my lord. In fact the duties of a knight, funnily enough. A lot of it is pretty damn stupid stuff, riding around the place on one of those bloody great horses with curtains round it and so on, but one of them says in time of need a knight has to raise and maintain – you’ll laugh when I tell you this – a body of armed soldiers! No-one could have been more surprised than me, I don’t mind telling you! Seems there’s nothing for it but I have to go out and get some chaps together. Of course, most of the watch have joined, well, you know how it is, disciplined lads, anxious to do their bit, so that saved me a bit of effort. Except for Nobby Nobbs, ‘cos he says if he leaves it till Thursday he’s going to have enough white feathers for a mattress.”
Rust’s expression would have preserved meat for a year.
“This is nonsense,” he said. “And you, Vimes, certainly are no knight. Only a king can make–”
“There’s a good few lordships in this city created by the Patricians,” said Vimes. “Your friend Lord Downey, for one. You were saying?”
“Then if you persist in playing games I will say that before a knight is created he must spend a night’s vigil watching his armor–”
“Practically every night of my life,” said Vimes. “A man doesn’t keep an eye on his armor round here, that man’s got no armor in the morning.”
“In prayer,” said Rust sharply.
“That’s me,” said Vimes. “Not a night has gone by without me thinking, "Ye gods, I hope I get through this alive.”
“–and he must have proved himself on the field of combat. Against other trained men, Vimes. Not vermin and thugs.”
Vimes started to undo the strap of his helmet.
“Well, this isn’t the best of moments, my lord, but if someone’ll hold your coat I can spare you five minutes…”
In Vimes’s eyes Rust recognized the fiery gleam of burning boats.
“I know what you’re doing, Vimes, and I am not going to rise to it,” he said, taking a step back. “In any case, you have had no formal training in arms.”
“That’s true,” said Vimes. “You’ve got me there, right enough. No-one ever trained me in arms. I was lucky there.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice so that the watching crowd wouldn’t hear. “Y'see, I know what 'training in arms’ means, Ronald. There hasn’t been a real war in ages. So it’s all prancing around wearing padded waistcoats and waving swords with knobs on the end so no-one’ll really get hurt, isn’t it? But down in the Shades no-one’s had any training in arms either. Wouldn’t know an epee from a sabre. No, what they’re good at is a broken bottle in one hand and a length of four-by-two in the other and when you face 'em, Ronnie, you know you aren’t going off for a laugh and a jolly drink afterwards, 'cos they want you dead. They want to kill you, you see, Ron? And by the time you’ve swung your nice shiny broadsword they’ve carved their name and address on your stomach. And that’s where I got my training in arms. Well… fists and knees and teeth and elbows, mostly.”
“You, sir, are no gentleman,” said Rust.
“I knew there was something about me that I liked.”
Dear St. Valentine,
I’m writing to you about a beautiful young lady who has been in this household for 25 years now—come March 4.
I have a request to make of you but before doing so I feel you should know more about her. For one thing she has 2 hearts—her own and mine. I’m not complaining. I gave her mine willingingly, and like it right where it is. Her name is Nancy but for some time now I’ve called her Mommie and don’t believe I could change.
My request of you is—could you on this day whisper in her ear that someone loves her very much and more and more each day? Also tell her, this “Someone” would run down like a dollar clock without her so she must always stay where she is.
Ronald Reagan love letter to First Lady, Nancy Reagan