Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Shovel them under and let me work— I am the grass; I cover all.
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I once said, We will bury you, and I got into trouble with it. Of course we will not bury you with a shovel. Your own working class will bury you.
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I once said, 'We will bury you,' and I got into trouble with it. Of course we will not bury you with a shovel. Your own working class will bury you.
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A verb has a hard enough time of it in this world when it is all together. It's downright inhuman to split it up. But that's what those Germans do. They take part of a verb and put it down here, like a stake, and they take the other part of it and put it a way over yonder like another stake, and between these two limits they just shovel in German.
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Religion is a man using a divining rod. Philosophy is a man using a pick and shovel.
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Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, someone goes and throws you a shovel.
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Just when you think you've finally hit bottom, someone tosses you a shovel.
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