If I were to be so foolish as to express my honest opinion, I'd be on the street, the next morning, looking for another job." "The business of the journalist," the man had continued, "is to destroy the truth, to lie, to pervert, to vilify, to fawn at the feet of Mammon, to sell his soul for his daily bread.

We are the tools and vassals of rich men behind the scenes.

We are the jumping-jacks.

They pull the strings and we dance.

Our talents, our possibilities, our lives are the property of other men." "We tried to pretend it was only one of Jack's little jokes," explained Greyson as he folded up the cutting; "but it wouldn't work.