Some shit never changes 
Edit for context: this is a letter from a woman named Eliza Clay, who inherited a collection of plantations in Southeast Georgia. Here were her thoughts after the war:
Some shit never changes
Edit for context: this is a letter from a woman named Eliza Clay, who inherited a collection of plantations in Southeast Georgia. Here were her thoughts after the war:
Imagine her relief when after soul searching she discovered that the moral thing to do didn’t require any sacrifice or change.
Something all of us ought to reflect on more.