[W]hen I reach the bridge and begin to run across it, I will pray that the sniper who killed old man Samir yesterday and little Lejla the day before, is looking the other way, or moving position as the snipers do, or warming his fingers round a mug of hot coffee, or glancing up and downing a slivovic.

Now, beshrew his heart, quoth jolly Robin, that would deny a butcher. And, moreover, I will go dine with you all, my sweet lads, and that as fast as I can hie. Whereupon, having sold all his meat, he closed his stall and went with them to the great Guild Hall.

His rolly had gone out and he stuck his head down to light the doff off the gas and burnt his left eyebrow as the cooker had one of those rare spats,

From your socialist perspective that's probably true. Keep rampant socialism in CanaDuh and don't vote for Joebama!