“Let not him who puts on his armor boast like him who takes it off” (I Kings 20:11).
I heard this guy brag, “When I stand before the Lord at Judgment, I’m going to tell him I did it my way!”
Oh yeah. Sure you are.
I’ve known of funerals where the Frank Sinatra/Paul Anka song “My Way” was played. Whether we should call this overconfidence, presumption, or just sheer stupidity is another question.
Winston Churchill is supposed to have said this. Asked if he was ready to meet his Maker, he replied, “I am. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.” As a Churchill admirer–I own shelves of books on and from him–I find this incredibly insulting. Frankly, I hope he didn’t say it. Although I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m under no illusion about the man.
I’ve been reading The Johnstown Flood, the first book from David McCullough, the wonderful historical author. (I recommend anything from McCullough. His books are all eminently readable. His biography of Harry Truman won the Pulitzer. In truth, everything he wrote should have won that prize, but I expect the committee would have been embarrassed to keep naming him.) )
What’s stunning about the account of the 1889 flood that destroyed this lovely village in the mountains of Pennsylvania is how blase’ the owners of the South Fork Dam were. A secretive group of wealthy families had formed themselves into “The South Fork Fishing and Hunting Club and built the earthen dam.