We also quoted Robert Luskin, Rove's attorney, acknowledging that Rove did speak to Cooper late on the week prior to the article coming out, which would have been July 10 or 11.
quote by Michael Isikoff
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At the request of the special counsel, Mr. Rove will not discuss the substance of his testimony.
quote by Robert Luskin
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The special counsel has not advised Mr. Rove that he is a target of the investigation and affirmed that he has made no decision concerning charges.
quote by Robert Luskin
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Mr. Luskin also says that Rove did not knowingly disclose classified information and did not tell any reporters that Valerie Plame worked for the C.I.A.
quote by Michael Isikoff
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Rove and his attorneys can parse the words all they want, but it is now clear that while Rove may not have given a reporter Plame's name, he clearly identified her by telling the reporter that Joseph Wilson's wife was a CIA agent.
quote by Louise Slaughter
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Potentially significant, by the way, because we don't know exactly what's in Matt Cooper's notes, and we don't know - and we don't still know the answer to the crucial question of whether it was Rove or somebody else that revealed Valerie Plame's name to him.
quote by Michael Isikoff
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The mainstream media may have trouble resisting the temptation to declare that Karl Rove has been demoted, but the truth is quite the contrary. By giving up his role as deputy White House chief of staff, Rove has been freed to do what he does best: shape big issues and develop strategies to win elections.
quote by Fred Barnes
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Alinsky's 1971 book, ""Rules for Radicals,"" is a favorite of the Obamas. Michele Obama quoted it at the Democratic Convention. One Alinsky tactic is to ""Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it, and polarize it."" That's what the White House did in targeting Rush Limbaugh, Rick Santelli and Jim Cramer.
Tis Sweet to Think
Tis sweet to think that, where'er we rove,
We are sure to find something blissful and dear,
And that, when we're far from the lips that we love,
We've but to make love to the lips we are near.
The heart, like a tendril, accustom'd to cling,
Let it grow where it will, cannot flourish alone,
But will lean to the nearest and loveliest thing
It can twine with itself, and make closely its own.
Then oh! what pleasure, where'er we rove,
To be sure to find something, still, that is dear,
And to know, when far from the lips we love,
We've but to make love to the lips we are near.
'Twere a shame, when flowers around us rise,
To make light of the rest, if the rose isn't there,
And the world's so rich in resplendent eyes,
'Twere a pity to limit one's love to a pair.
Love's wing and the peacock's are nearly alike,
They are both of them bright, but the're changeable too,
And wherever a new beam of beauty can strike,
It will tincture Love's plume with a different hue.
Then oh! what pleasure, where'er we rove,
To be sure to find something, still, that is dear,
And to know, when far from the lips we love,
We've but to make love to the lips we are near.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Epigram - Frank Carves Very Ill
Frank carves very ill, yet will palm all the meats;
He eats more than six, and drinks more than he eats.
Four pipes after dinner he constantly smokes,
And seasons his whiffs with impertinent jokes:
Yet sighing, he says we must certainly break,
And my cruel unkindness compels him to speak,
For of late I invite him - but four times a week.
poem by Matthew Prior
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To My Unborn
I miss you lil one,
I never got to know you,
You were only in my stomache for only 3 months 1 week,
I felt you moving,
I wish I heard your heartbeat,
This kills me that I never got to know you,
I Always wonder what sex you would be,
I know that you would have been 2 yrs old,
I miss you so much,
It feels like I lost apart me the day you past away that late summer in July,
Never got the chance to cry over you or even got the chance to burry you or give you life,
I miss you so much.
This is to my unborn baby that never got the chance to live or even get to be born. May he/she R.I.P passed away on July 20,2008 at 10AM. I was only 3 months 1 week.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Brown Study from the Lowlands
My fart's in the Lowlands, my fart is not here,
My fart's in the Lowlands disgracing I fear -
embracing the oh dear, hear three in a row!
my fart's in the Lowlands, no place else to blow.
Farewell to the colon[y]'s whale of a gale,
the column of calor, one gale won from whale;
wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
my fart blows from private parts, I'm treasure trove cove.
Farewell from gust mounting high in the air;
Hello to disgust leading on to despair,
Hello ivy league bladderwort fount in puds;
Hello to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My fart's in the Lowlands, my fart is not here,
My fart's in the Lowlands disgracing I fear -
embracing the oh dear, three more in a row!
my fart blows from Lowlands, so little to show.
[c] Jonathan Robin parody Robert Burns My Heart's in the Highlands 1 July 2008 robi3_1781_burn3_0004 PXX_MXX
My Heart's In The Highlands
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valleys below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Robert Burns - written 1789
tune- 'Failte na Miosg.'
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Granda
Too many unspoken words
Too little time I spent with you
Too many things I didn’t know
Parts of you I never knew
Now it’s too late to say ‘what if’
Too late to tell you how I feel
The irony of life is this
It’s when it’s gone, you know it’s real.
poem by Justin Robert Cooper
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The reason this resolution was delayed had nothing to do with anything Karl did or failed to do.
quote by Robert Luskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come To The Greenwood Tree
Come to the greenwood tree,
Come where the dark woods be,
Dearest, O come with me!
Let us rove—O my love—O my love!
Come—'tis the moonlight hour,
Dew is on leaf and flower,
Come to the linden bower,—
Let us rove—O my love—O my love!
Dark is the wood, and wide
Dangers, they say, betide;
But, at my Albert's side,
Nought I fear, O my love—O my love!
Welcome the greenwood tree,
Welcome the forest free,
Dearest, with thee, with thee,
Nought I fear, O my love—O my love!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Cooper
Cooper went out late last night
I heard the slam from her door
Foggy ways, november daze
All the white wolves were smiling
Cooper went out walkin the clouds
She left everything in a mess
shut your mouth when you talk to me
Her words were always so small
And theres a sound from the telephone
When can I say shes coming home?
Leave me the number youre dialing from
And may I ask whos calling?
May I ask whos calling?
Cooper went out, 3 oclock sharp
I heard the bells from the church
Someone said they saw a car
Picking her up by the stations
Cooper went out and thats all there is
Im just no one from next door
Everything will be alright
When all the flowers have cried
Then theres a voice on the telephone
When can I say shes coming home?
Leave me the number youre dialing from
And may I ask whos callin? (whos calling? )
May I ask whos calling? (whos calling? )
May I ask whos calling?
song performed by by Roxette
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The one thing that's absolutely clear is that Karl was not the source for the leak and there's no basis for any additional speculation.
quote by Robert Luskin
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The expectations are that when this investigation is completed, Fitzgerald will make the appropriate decision, which is not to charge Karl with any criminal offenses.
quote by Robert Luskin
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The Despairing Shepherd
Alexis shun'd his Fellow Swains,
Their rural Sports, and jocund Strains:
(Heav'n guard us all from Cupid's Bow!)
He lost his Crook, He left his Flocks;
And wand'ring thro' the lonely Rocks,
He nourish'd endless Woe.
The Nymphs and Shepherds round Him came:
His Grief Some pity, Others blame:
The fatal Cause All kindly seek.
He mingled his Concern with Their's:
He gave 'em back their friendly Tears:
He sigh'd, but would not speak.
Clorinda came among the rest:
And She too kind Concern exprest,
And ask'd the Reason of his Woe:
She ask'd, but with an Air and Mein,
That made it easily foreseen,
She fear'd too much to know.
The Shepherd rais'd his mournful Head:
And will You pardon Me, He said,
While I the cruel Truth reveal?
Which nothing from my Breast should tear;
Which never should offend Your Ear;
But that You bid Me tell.
'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain;
Since You appear'd upon the Plain:
You are the Cause of all my Care:
Your Eyes ten thousand Dangers dart:
Ten thousand Torments vex My Heart:
I love, and I despair.
Too much, Alexis, I have heard:
'Tis what I thought; 'tis what I fear'd:
And yet I pardon You, She cry'd:
But You shall promise ne'er again
To breath your Vows, or speak your Pain:
He bow'd, obey'd, and dy'd.
poem by Matthew Prior
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You all had something to do with keeping me employed.