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now begins generated list of local instances, definitions, quotes, instances in chapters, wordnet info if available and instances among weblinks


OBJECT INSTANCES [0] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS
SEE ALSO


AUTH

BOOKS
An_Arrow_to_the_Heart__A_Commentary_on_the_Heart_Sutra
Blazing_the_Trail_from_Infancy_to_Enlightenment
Buddhahood_in_This_Life__The_Great_Commentary_by_Vimalamitra
Choosing_Simplicity__A_Commentary_On_The_Bhikshuni_Pratimoksha
City_of_God
Enchiridion_text
Enlightened_Courage__A_Commentary_on_the_Seven_Point_Mind_Training
General_Principles_of_Kabbalah
Heart_of_Matter
How_to_Free_Your_Mind_-_Tara_the_Liberator
Infinite_Library
Introduction_To_The_Middle_Way__Chandrakirti's_Madhyamakavatara_with_Commentary_by_Dzongsar_Jamyang_Khyentse_Rinpoche
Isha_Upanishad
Kena_and_Other_Upanishads
Let_Me_Explain
Letters_On_Poetry_And_Art
Letters_On_Yoga
Letters_On_Yoga_I
Liber_157_-_The_Tao_Teh_King
Liber_ABA
Life_without_Death
Mining_for_Wisdom_Within_Delusion__Maitreya's_Distinction_Between_Phenomena_and_the_Nature_of_Phenomena_and_Its_Indian_and_Tibetan_Commentaries
Modern_Man_in_Search_of_a_Soul
My_Burning_Heart
On_Thoughts_And_Aphorisms
Parting_From_The_Four_Attachments__A_Commentary_On_Jetsun_Drakpa_Gyaltsen's_Song_Of_Experience_On_Mind_Training_And_The_View
Patanjali_Yoga_Sutras
Plotinus_-_Complete_Works_Vol_01
Plotinus_-_Complete_Works_Vol_02
Plotinus_-_Complete_Works_Vol_03
Plotinus_-_Complete_Works_Vol_04
Practical_Ethics_and_Profound_Emptiness__A_Commentary_on_Nagarjuna's_Precious_Garland
Process_and_Reality
Savitri
The_Book_of_Lies
The_Book_of_Light
The_Divine_Milieu
The_Nectar_of_Manjushri's_Speech__A_Detailed_Commentary_on_Shantideva's_Way_of_the_Bodhisattva
The_Red_Book_-_Liber_Novus
The_Seals_of_Wisdom
The_Secret_Doctrine
The_Suttanipata__An_Ancient_Collection_of_the_Buddha's_Discourses_Together_with_its_Commentaries
The_Use_and_Abuse_of_History
The_Way_of_Perfection
The_Wit_and_Wisdom_of_Alfred_North_Whitehead
The_Yoga_Sutras
Tilopa's_Mahamudra_Upadesha__The_Gangama_Instructions_with_Commentary
Toward_the_Future
Treasure_Trove_of_Scriptural_Transmission__A_Commentary_on_the_Precious_Treasury_of_the_Basic_Space_of_Phenomena
Vedic_and_Philological_Studies
Writings_In_Bengali_and_Sanskrit

IN CHAPTERS TITLE
1.1.2_-_Commentary
2.02_-_The_Ishavasyopanishad_with_a_commentary_in_English
2.03_-_Karmayogin__A_Commentary_on_the_Isha_Upanishad
2.1.7.08_-_Comments_on_Specific_Lines_and_Passages_of_the_Poem
36.08_-_A_Commentary_on_the_First_Six_Suktas_of_Rigveda
3_-_Commentaries_and_Annotated_Translations

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
0.00a_-_Introduction
0.00_-_The_Book_of_Lies_Text
0.06_-_INTRODUCTION
0.10_-_Letters_to_a_Young_Captain
01.11_-_Aldous_Huxley:_The_Perennial_Philosophy
0_1957-10-08
0_1958-01-01
0_1959-03-10_-_vital_dagger,_vital_mass
0_1960-01-31
0_1960-03-07
0_1960-04-14
0_1961-01-07
0_1961-01-22
0_1961-02-25
0_1961-04-29
0_1961-06-02
0_1961-07-15
0_1961-11-12
0_1962-01-09
0_1962-06-27
0_1962-06-30
0_1962-07-04
0_1962-07-07
0_1962-08-04
0_1962-08-11
0_1962-09-18
0_1962-09-26
0_1962-10-27
0_1963-01-12
0_1963-03-23
0_1963-03-27
0_1963-05-03
0_1963-06-15
0_1963-06-22
0_1963-06-29
0_1963-07-24
0_1963-07-27
0_1963-08-10
0_1963-08-28
0_1963-09-07
0_1963-09-25
0_1963-10-03
0_1963-12-07_-_supramental_ship
0_1963-12-31
0_1964-01-25
0_1964-02-05
0_1964-08-29
0_1964-09-18
0_1964-10-24b
0_1965-02-27
0_1965-07-03
0_1965-07-07
0_1965-08-07
0_1965-12-25
0_1966-03-04
0_1966-04-16
0_1966-09-07
0_1966-09-17
0_1967-03-04
0_1967-08-12
0_1968-02-07
0_1968-03-13
0_1969-05-03
0_1969-06-25
0_1969-07-19
0_1969-09-20
0_1969-12-13
0_1969-12-20
0_1969-12-31
0_1970-01-01
0_1970-01-03
0_1970-01-07
0_1970-01-14
0_1970-03-14
0_1970-03-18
0_1970-04-01
0_1970-04-29
0_1970-06-06
0_1970-07-18
0_1970-09-26
0_1970-10-10
0_1970-11-18
0_1971-01-16
0_1971-03-27
0_1971-04-28
0_1971-12-04
0_1972-02-02
0_1972-02-26
0_1972-04-06
0_1973-02-28
02.02_-_Rishi_Dirghatama
02.08_-_Jules_Supervielle
02.09_-_Two_Mystic_Poems_in_Modern_French
03.02_-_Yogic_Initiation_and_Aptitude
1.009_-_Perception_and_Reality
1.00a_-_Introduction
1.00b_-_INTRODUCTION
1.00_-_Introduction_to_Alchemy_of_Happiness
1.00_-_PREFACE_-_DESCENSUS_AD_INFERNOS
1.00_-_The_way_of_what_is_to_come
1.01_-_Adam_Kadmon_and_the_Evolution
1.01_-_Archetypes_of_the_Collective_Unconscious
1.01_-_Foreward
1.01_-_Historical_Survey
1.01_-_Maitreya_inquires_of_his_teacher_(Parashara)
1.01_-_MAPS_OF_EXPERIENCE_-_OBJECT_AND_MEANING
1.01_-_On_knowledge_of_the_soul,_and_how_knowledge_of_the_soul_is_the_key_to_the_knowledge_of_God.
1.01_-_Our_Demand_and_Need_from_the_Gita
1.01_-_Prayer
1.01_-_Proem
1.01_-_SAMADHI_PADA
1.01_-_Soul_and_God
1.01_-_The_First_Steps
1.01_-_The_Highest_Meaning_of_the_Holy_Truths
1.01_-_The_Unexpected
1.02_-_Karmayoga
1.02_-_MAPS_OF_MEANING_-_THREE_LEVELS_OF_ANALYSIS
1.02_-_Meditating_on_Tara
1.02_-_On_the_Service_of_the_Soul
1.02_-_Prayer_of_Parashara_to_Vishnu
1.02_-_SADHANA_PADA
1.02_-_The_Child_as_growing_being_and_the_childs_experience_of_encountering_the_teacher.
1.02_-_The_Philosophy_of_Ishvara
1.02_-_The_Three_European_Worlds
1.02_-_The_Ultimate_Path_is_Without_Difficulty
1.031_-_Intense_Aspiration
1.03_-_Concerning_the_Archetypes,_with_Special_Reference_to_the_Anima_Concept
1.03_-_Master_Ma_is_Unwell
1.03_-_Measure_of_time,_Moments_of_Kashthas,_etc.
1.03_-_Preparing_for_the_Miraculous
1.03_-_Reading
1.03_-_The_Desert
1.03_-_THE_GRAND_OPTION
1.03_-_THE_ORPHAN,_THE_WIDOW,_AND_THE_MOON
1.03_-_The_Phenomenon_of_Man
1.03_-_The_Sephiros
1.03_-_To_Layman_Ishii
1.04_-_Descent_into_Future_Hell
1.04_-_GOD_IN_THE_WORLD
1.04_-_Homage_to_the_Twenty-one_Taras
1.04_-_KAI_VALYA_PADA
1.04_-_Narayana_appearance,_in_the_beginning_of_the_Kalpa,_as_the_Varaha_(boar)
1.04_-_Of_other_imperfections_which_these_beginners_are_apt_to_have_with_respect_to_the_third_sin,_which_is_luxury.
1.04_-_On_Knowledge_of_the_Future_World.
1.04_-_Relationship_with_the_Divine
1.04_-_Te_Shan_Carrying_His_Bundle
1.04_-_THE_APPEARANCE_OF_ANOMALY_-_CHALLENGE_TO_THE_SHARED_MAP
1.04_-_The_Divine_Mother_-_This_Is_She
1.04_-_The_First_Circle,_Limbo__Virtuous_Pagans_and_the_Unbaptized._The_Four_Poets,_Homer,_Horace,_Ovid,_and_Lucan._The_Noble_Castle_of_Philosophy.
1.04_-_The_Future_of_Man
1.04_-_The_Gods_of_the_Veda
1.04_-_The_Paths
1.04_-_The_Praise
1.04_-_What_Arjuna_Saw_-_the_Dark_Side_of_the_Force
1.05_-_2010_and_1956_-_Doomsday?
1.053_-_A_Very_Important_Sadhana
1.05_-_Adam_Kadmon
1.05_-_Christ,_A_Symbol_of_the_Self
1.05_-_Hsueh_Feng's_Grain_of_Rice
1.05_-_Ritam
1.05_-_THE_HOSTILE_BROTHERS_-_ARCHETYPES_OF_RESPONSE_TO_THE_UNKNOWN
1.05_-_THE_NEW_SPIRIT
1.05_-_Vishnu_as_Brahma_creates_the_world
1.05_-_War_And_Politics
1.06_-_Agni_and_the_Truth
1.06_-_Being_Human_and_the_Copernican_Principle
1.06_-_Gestalt_and_Universals
1.06_-_MORTIFICATION,_NON-ATTACHMENT,_RIGHT_LIVELIHOOD
1.06_-_Origin_of_the_four_castes
1.06_-_The_Breaking_of_the_Limits
1.06_-_The_Sign_of_the_Fishes
1.06_-_The_Three_Schools_of_Magick_1
1.06_-_Yun_Men's_Every_Day_is_a_Good_Day
1.07_-_A_Song_of_Longing_for_Tara,_the_Infallible
1.07_-_Bridge_across_the_Afterlife
1.07_-_Cybernetics_and_Psychopathology
1.07_-_Hui_Ch'ao_Asks_about_Buddha
1.07_-_Note_on_the_word_Go
1.07_-_Production_of_the_mind-born_sons_of_Brahma
1.07_-_Samadhi
1.07_-_Savitri
1.07_-_The_Literal_Qabalah_(continued)
1.07_-_The_Prophecies_of_Nostradamus
1.08_-_Attendants
1.08_-_Independence_from_the_Physical
1.08_-_Sri_Aurobindos_Descent_into_Death
1.08_-_The_Gods_of_the_Veda_-_The_Secret_of_the_Veda
1.08_-_The_Historical_Significance_of_the_Fish
1.097_-_Sublimation_of_Object-Consciousness
1.09_-_Concentration_-_Its_Spiritual_Uses
1.09_-_Legend_of_Lakshmi
1.09_-_Sri_Aurobindo_and_the_Big_Bang
1.09_-_Taras_Ultimate_Nature
1.09_-_The_Ambivalence_of_the_Fish_Symbol
1.10_-_GRACE_AND_FREE_WILL
1.10_-_The_descendants_of_the_daughters_of_Daksa_married_to_the_Rsis
1.10_-_The_Methods_and_the_Means
1.10_-_The_Scolex_School
1.10_-_The_Secret_of_the_Veda
1.11_-_Correspondence_and_Interviews
1.11_-_Higher_Laws
1.11_-_The_Kalki_Avatar
1.11_-_The_Soul_or_the_Astral_Body
1.1.2_-_Commentary
1.12_-_Dhruva_commences_a_course_of_religious_austerities
1.12_-_God_Departs
1.12_-_THE_FESTIVAL_AT_PNIHTI
1.12_-_The_Herds_of_the_Dawn
1.13_-_Gnostic_Symbols_of_the_Self
1.13_-_Posterity_of_Dhruva
1.14_-_Bibliography
1.14_-_Descendants_of_Prithu
1.14_-_IMMORTALITY_AND_SURVIVAL
1.14_-_The_Limits_of_Philosophical_Knowledge
1.14_-_The_Structure_and_Dynamics_of_the_Self
1.15_-_Index
1.15_-_The_Possibility_and_Purpose_of_Avatarhood
1.15_-_The_world_overrun_with_trees;_they_are_destroyed_by_the_Pracetasas
1.17_-_Legend_of_Prahlada
1.17_-_Religion_as_the_Law_of_Life
1.17_-_The_Transformation
1.18_-_On_insensibility,_that_is,_deadening_of_the_soul_and_the_death_of_the_mind_before_the_death_of_the_body.
1.19_-_Tabooed_Acts
1.201_-_Socrates
1.2.03_-_The_Interpretation_of_Scripture
1.21_-_Chih_Men's_Lotus_Flower,_Lotus_Leaves
1.21_-_Families_of_the_Daityas
1.21_-_Tabooed_Things
1.22__-_Dominion_over_different_provinces_of_creation_assigned_to_different_beings
1.22_-_ON_THE_GIFT-GIVING_VIRTUE
1.2.2_-_The_Place_of_Study_in_Sadhana
1.23_-_Improvising_a_Temple
1.23_-_THE_MIRACULOUS
1.240_-_Talks_2
1.300_-_1.400_Talks
1.35_-_The_Tao_2
1.39_-_Prophecy
1.400_-_1.450_Talks
14.02_-_Occult_Experiences
1.439
1.450_-_1.500_Talks
1.45_-_Unserious_Conduct_of_a_Pupil
1.48_-_Morals_of_AL_-_Hard_to_Accept,_and_Why_nevertheless_we_Must_Concur
15.04_-_The_Mother_Abides
15.09_-_One_Day_More
1.50_-_A.C._and_the_Masters;_Why_they_Chose_him,_etc.
1.550_-_1.600_Talks
1.69_-_Farewell_to_Nemi
1.83_-_Epistola_Ultima
1914_05_27p
1950-12-23_-_Concentration_and_energy
1950-12-25_-_Christmas_-_festival_of_Light_-_Energy_and_mental_growth_-_Meditation_and_concentration_-_The_Mother_of_Dreams_-_Playing_a_game_well,_and_energy
1950-12-28_-_Correct_judgment.
1951-01-04_-_Transformation_and_reversal_of_consciousness.
1951-01-11_-_Modesty_and_vanity_-_Generosity
1951-02-12_-_Divine_force_-_Signs_indicating_readiness_-_Weakness_in_mind,_vital_-_concentration_-_Divine_perception,_human_notion_of_good,_bad_-_Conversion,_consecration_-_progress_-_Signs_of_entering_the_path_-_kinds_of_meditation_-_aspiration
1951-03-01_-_Universe_and_the_Divine_-_Freedom_and_determinism_-_Grace_-_Time_and_Creation-_in_the_Supermind_-_Work_and_its_results_-_The_psychic_being_-_beauty_and_love_-_Flowers-_beauty_and_significance_-_Choice_of_reincarnating_psychic_being
1953-05-27
1954-10-06_-_What_happens_is_for_the_best_-_Blaming_oneself_-Experiences_-_The_vital_desire-soul_-Creating_a_spiritual_atmosphere_-Thought_and_Truth
1954-12-15_-_Many_witnesses_inside_oneself_-_Children_in_the_Ashram_-_Trance_and_the_waking_consciousness_-_Ascetic_methods_-_Education,_spontaneous_effort_-_Spiritual_experience
1956-02-22_-_Strong_immobility_of_an_immortal_spirit_-_Equality_of_soul_-_Is_all_an_expression_of_the_divine_Will?_-_Loosening_the_knot_of_action_-_Using_experience_as_a_cloak_to_cover_excesses_-_Sincerity,_a_rare_virtue
1956-03-28_-_The_starting-point_of_spiritual_experience_-_The_boundless_finite_-_The_Timeless_and_Time_-_Mental_explanation_not_enough_-_Changing_knowledge_into_experience_-_Sat-Chit-Tapas-Ananda
1956-06-20_-_Hearts_mystic_light,_intuition_-_Psychic_being,_contact_-_Secular_ethics_-_True_role_of_mind_-_Realise_the_Divine_by_love_-_Depression,_pleasure,_joy_-_Heart_mixture_-_To_follow_the_soul_-_Physical_process_-_remember_the_Mother
1956-06-27_-_Birth,_entry_of_soul_into_body_-_Formation_of_the_supramental_world_-_Aspiration_for_progress_-_Bad_thoughts_-_Cerebral_filter_-_Progress_and_resistance
1956-07-11_-_Beauty_restored_to_its_priesthood_-_Occult_worlds,_occult_beings_-_Difficulties_and_the_supramental_force
1956-08-01_-_Value_of_worship_-_Spiritual_realisation_and_the_integral_yoga_-_Symbols,_translation_of_experience_into_form_-_Sincerity,_fundamental_virtue_-_Intensity_of_aspiration,_with_anguish_or_joy_-_The_divine_Grace
1956-08-08_-_How_to_light_the_psychic_fire,_will_for_progress_-_Helping_from_a_distance,_mental_formations_-_Prayer_and_the_divine_-_Grace_Grace_at_work_everywhere
1956-08-22_-_The_heaven_of_the_liberated_mind_-_Trance_or_samadhi_-_Occult_discipline_for_leaving_consecutive_bodies_-_To_be_greater_than_ones_experience_-_Total_self-giving_to_the_Grace_-_The_truth_of_the_being_-_Unique_relation_with_the_Supreme
1956-08-29_-_To_live_spontaneously_-_Mental_formations_Absolute_sincerity_-_Balance_is_indispensable,_the_middle_path_-_When_in_difficulty,_widen_the_consciousness_-_Easiest_way_of_forgetting_oneself
1956-10-03_-_The_Mothers_different_ways_of_speaking_-_new_manifestation_-_new_element,_possibilities_-_child_prodigies_-_Laws_of_Nature,_supramental_-_Logic_of_the_unforeseen_-_Creative_writers,_hands_of_musicians_-_Prodigious_children,_men
1956-11-14_-_Conquering_the_desire_to_appear_good_-_Self-control_and_control_of_the_life_around_-_Power_of_mastery_-_Be_a_great_yogi_to_be_a_good_teacher_-_Organisation_of_the_Ashram_school_-_Elementary_discipline_of_regularity
1957-03-13_-_Our_best_friend
1958-08-27_-_Meditation_and_imagination_-_From_thought_to_idea,_from_idea_to_principle
1958_12_05
1962_01_12
1962_01_21
1969_10_01?_-_166
1970_01_27
1971_12_11
1f.lovecraft_-_At_the_Mountains_of_Madness
1f.lovecraft_-_Facts_concerning_the_Late
1f.lovecraft_-_He
1f.lovecraft_-_In_the_Vault
1f.lovecraft_-_Out_of_the_Aeons
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Call_of_Cthulhu
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Case_of_Charles_Dexter_Ward
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Curse_of_Yig
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Diary_of_Alonzo_Typer
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Disinterment
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dream-Quest_of_Unknown_Kadath
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dreams_in_the_Witch_House
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dunwich_Horror
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Electric_Executioner
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Last_Test
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Mound
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shadow_out_of_Time
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shunned_House
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Whisperer_in_Darkness
1.hcyc_-_In_my_early_years,_I_set_out_to_acquire_learning_(from_The_Song_of_Enlightenment)
1.jk_-_Ode_On_A_Grecian_Urn
1.jk_-_Otho_The_Great_-_Act_I
1.jk_-_Otho_The_Great_-_Act_II
1.jk_-_Sonnet._Why_Did_I_Laugh_Tonight?
1.jk_-_Spenserian_Stanza._Written_At_The_Close_Of_Canto_II,_Book_V,_Of_The_Faerie_Queene
1.jk_-_The_Eve_Of_St._Agnes
1.pbs_-_Ginevra
1.pbs_-_The_Triumph_Of_Life
1.poe_-_Eureka_-_A_Prose_Poem
1.rb_-_A_Grammarian's_Funeral_Shortly_After_The_Revival_Of_Learning
1.rb_-_Master_Hugues_Of_Saxe-Gotha
1.rb_-_Pauline,_A_Fragment_of_a_Question
1.rb_-_Rhyme_for_a_Child_Viewing_a_Naked_Venus_in_a_Painting_of_'The_Judgement_of_Paris'
1.rb_-_The_Pied_Piper_Of_Hamelin
1.tm_-_When_in_the_soul_of_the_serene_disciple
1.wby_-_In_Memory_Of_Major_Robert_Gregory
1.wby_-_Mohini_Chatterjee
1.ww_-_Book_Tenth_{Residence_in_France_continued]
1.ww_-_Personal_Talk
1.ww_-_The_Recluse_-_Book_First
20.01_-_Charyapada_-_Old_Bengali_Mystic_Poems
20.06_-_Translations_in_French
2.00_-_BIBLIOGRAPHY
2.01_-_Mandala_One
2.01_-_THE_ARCANE_SUBSTANCE_AND_THE_POINT
2.01_-_The_Attributes_of_Omega_Point_-_a_Transcendent_God
2.01_-_The_Road_of_Trials
2.02_-_Atomic_Motions
2.02_-_Indra,_Giver_of_Light
2.02_-_The_Ishavasyopanishad_with_a_commentary_in_English
2.03_-_Indra_and_the_Thought-Forces
2.03_-_Karmayogin__A_Commentary_on_the_Isha_Upanishad
2.03_-_THE_ENIGMA_OF_BOLOGNA
2.04_-_Agni,_the_Illumined_Will
2.04_-_The_Living_Church_and_Christ-Omega
2.05_-_Apotheosis
2.05_-_Infinite_Worlds
2.07_-_On_Congress_and_Politics
2.0_-_THE_ANTICHRIST
2.1.3.3_-_Reading
2.1.3.4_-_Conduct
2.1.4.1_-_Teachers
2.1.4.2_-_Teaching
2.1.4.3_-_Discipline
2.1.5.1_-_Study_of_Works_of_Sri_Aurobindo_and_the_Mother
2.1.5.2_-_Languages
2.1.5.4_-_Arts
2.1.7.08_-_Comments_on_Specific_Lines_and_Passages_of_the_Poem
2.17_-_December_1938
2.18_-_January_1939
2.2.02_-_Consciousness_and_the_Inconscient
2.21_-_1940
2.22_-_1941-1943
2.22_-_The_Supreme_Secret
2.25_-_Mercies_and_Judgements_of_Knowledge
2.3.1_-_Svetasvatara_Upanishad
24.05_-_Vision_of_Dante
26.09_-_Le_Periple_d_Or_(Pome_dans_par_Yvonne_Artaud)
30.02_-_Greek_Drama
30.09_-_Lines_of_Tantra_(Charyapada)
3.00_-_The_Magical_Theory_of_the_Universe
3.02_-_Mysticism
3.02_-_The_Psychology_of_Rebirth
3.04_-_The_Formula_of_ALHIM
3.05_-_SAL
3.08_-_Of_Equilibrium
3.0_-_THE_ETERNAL_RECURRENCE
3.1.04_-_Transformation_in_the_Integral_Yoga
31.06_-_Jagadish_Chandra_Bose
3.10_-_Of_the_Gestures
3.13_-_Of_the_Banishings
3.14_-_Of_the_Consecrations
3.18_-_Of_Clairvoyance_and_the_Body_of_Light
3.2.02_-_The_Veda_and_the_Upanishads
3.20_-_Of_the_Eucharist
3.2.10_-_Christianity_and_Theosophy
33.06_-_Alipore_Court
33.11_-_Pondicherry_II
33.13_-_My_Professors
33.14_-_I_Played_Football
33.15_-_My_Athletics
33.18_-_I_Bow_to_the_Mother
3.3.2_-_Doctors_and_Medicines
3.4.03_-_Materialism
3-5_Full_Circle
36.07_-_An_Introduction_To_The_Vedas
36.08_-_A_Commentary_on_the_First_Six_Suktas_of_Rigveda
36.09_-_THE_SIT_SUKTA
37.02_-_The_Story_of_Jabala-Satyakama
3_-_Commentaries_and_Annotated_Translations
4.01_-_Introduction
4.02_-_BEYOND_THE_COLLECTIVE_-_THE_HYPER-PERSONAL
4.03_-_Prayer_to_the_Ever-greater_Christ
4.04_-_Conclusion
4.06_-_THE_KING_AS_ANTHROPOS
4.1.01_-_The_Intellect_and_Yoga
4.12_-_THE_LAST_SUPPER
4.1.3_-_Imperfections_and_Periods_of_Arrest
4.2_-_Karma
4.41_-_Chapter_One
4.43_-_Chapter_Three
5.01_-_ADAM_AS_THE_ARCANE_SUBSTANCE
5.02_-_THE_STATUE
5.04_-_Formation_Of_The_World
5.08_-_ADAM_AS_TOTALITY
5.4.01_-_Notes_on_Root-Sounds
5_-_The_Phenomenology_of_the_Spirit_in_Fairytales
6.05_-_THE_PSYCHOLOGICAL_INTERPRETATION_OF_THE_PROCEDURE
6.08_-_THE_CONTENT_AND_MEANING_OF_THE_FIRST_TWO_STAGES
6.0_-_Conscious,_Unconscious,_and_Individuation
Aeneid
Apology
Appendix_4_-_Priest_Spells
APPENDIX_I_-_Curriculum_of_A._A.
Averroes_Search
Blazing_P1_-_Preconventional_consciousness
Blazing_P3_-_Explore_the_Stages_of_Postconventional_Consciousness
BOOK_II._--_PART_I._ANTHROPOGENESIS.
BOOK_II._--_PART_III._ADDENDA._SCIENCE_AND_THE_SECRET_DOCTRINE_CONTRASTED
BOOK_II._--_PART_II._THE_ARCHAIC_SYMBOLISM_OF_THE_WORLD-RELIGIONS
BOOK_I._--_PART_I._COSMIC_EVOLUTION
BOOK_I._--_PART_III._SCIENCE_AND_THE_SECRET_DOCTRINE_CONTRASTED
BOOK_I._--_PART_II._THE_EVOLUTION_OF_SYMBOLISM_IN_ITS_APPROXIMATE_ORDER
Book_of_Imaginary_Beings_(text)
BOOK_XIII._-_That_death_is_penal,_and_had_its_origin_in_Adam's_sin
BOOK_XIX._-_A_review_of_the_philosophical_opinions_regarding_the_Supreme_Good,_and_a_comparison_of_these_opinions_with_the_Christian_belief_regarding_happiness
BOOK_X._-_Porphyrys_doctrine_of_redemption
BOOK_XVIII._-_A_parallel_history_of_the_earthly_and_heavenly_cities_from_the_time_of_Abraham_to_the_end_of_the_world
CASE_1_-_JOSHUS_DOG
CASE_2_-_HYAKUJOS_FOX
CASE_3_-_GUTEIS_FINGER
CASE_4_-_WAKUANS_WHY_NO_BEARD?
CASE_5_-_KYOGENS_MAN_HANGING_IN_THE_TREE
CASE_6_-_THE_BUDDHAS_FLOWER
Diamond_Sutra_1
DM_2_-_How_to_Meditate
DS2
DS3
DS4
ENNEAD_01.07_-_Of_the_First_Good,_and_of_the_Other_Goods.
ENNEAD_02.09_-_Against_the_Gnostics;_or,_That_the_Creator_and_the_World_are_Not_Evil.
ENNEAD_03.07_-_Of_Time_and_Eternity.
ENNEAD_04.02_-_How_the_Soul_Mediates_Between_Indivisible_and_Divisible_Essence.
ENNEAD_06.05_-_The_One_and_Identical_Being_is_Everywhere_Present_In_Its_Entirety.345
For_a_Breath_I_Tarry
Gorgias
Liber
Liber_111_-_The_Book_of_Wisdom_-_LIBER_ALEPH_VEL_CXI
Liber_46_-_The_Key_of_the_Mysteries
Liber_71_-_The_Voice_of_the_Silence_-_The_Two_Paths_-_The_Seven_Portals
r1912_07_21
r1913_01_07
r1913_01_13
r1913_11_15
r1914_04_25
r1914_05_26
r1914_05_27
r1914_05_28
r1914_06_24
r1914_07_14
r1914_07_17
r1914_07_27
r1914_08_17
r1914_08_18
r1914_08_19
r1914_09_04
r1914_09_05
r1914_09_07
r1914_09_08
r1918_05_20
r1919_08_28
Sophist
Story_of_the_Warrior_and_the_Captive
Symposium_translated_by_B_Jowett
Talks_026-050
Talks_051-075
Talks_176-200
Talks_600-652
Talks_With_Sri_Aurobindo_1
Talks_With_Sri_Aurobindo_2
The_Act_of_Creation_text
The_Anapanasati_Sutta__A_Practical_Guide_to_Mindfullness_of_Breathing_and_Tranquil_Wisdom_Meditation
The_Book_of_Certitude_-_P1
The_Book_of_Certitude_-_P2
The_Dwellings_of_the_Philosophers
the_Eternal_Wisdom
The_Fearful_Sphere_of_Pascal
The_Five,_Ranks_of_The_Apparent_and_the_Real
The_Garden_of_Forking_Paths_1
The_Garden_of_Forking_Paths_2
The_Gospel_According_to_Luke
The_Gospel_According_to_Matthew
The_Gospel_of_Thomas
The_Immortal
The_Library_of_Babel
The_Library_Of_Babel_2
The_Poems_of_Cold_Mountain
The_Riddle_of_this_World
The_Shadow_Out_Of_Time
The_Waiting
Thus_Spoke_Zarathustra_text
Timaeus

PRIMARY CLASS

code
SIMILAR TITLES
comments

DEFINITIONS


TERMS STARTING WITH

Comments in Dupont-Sommer, The Dead Sea Scrolls.


TERMS ANYWHERE

AbhidharmamahAvibhAsA. (T. Chos mngon pa bye brag bshad pa chen po; C. Apidamo dapiposha lun; J. Abidatsuma daibibasharon; K. Abidalma taebibasa non 阿毘達磨大毘婆沙論). In Sanskrit, "Great Exegesis of ABHIDHARMA," also commonly known as MahAvibhAsA; a massive VAIBHAsIKA treatise on SARVASTIVADA abhidharma translated into Chinese by the scholar-pilgrim XUANZANG and his translation bureau between 656 and 659 at XIMINGSI in the Tang capital of Chang'an. Although no Sanskrit version of this text is extant, earlier Chinese translations by Buddhavarman and others survive, albeit only in (equally massive) fragments. The complete Sanskrit text of the recension that Xuanzang used was in 100,000 slokas; his translation was in 200 rolls, making it one of the largest single works in the Buddhist canon. According to the account in Xuanzang's DA TANG XIYU JI, four hundred years after the Buddha's PARINIRVAnA, King KANIsKA gathered five hundred ARHATs to recite the Buddhist canon (TRIPItAKA). The ABHIDHARMAPItAKA of this canon, which is associated with the SarvAstivAda school, is said to have been redacted during this council (see COUNCIL, FOURTH). The central abhidharma treatise of the SarvAstivAda school is KATYAYANĪPUTRA's JNANAPRASTHANA, and the AbhidharmamahAvibhAsA purports to offer a comprehensive overview of varying views on the meaning of that seminal text by the five hundred arhats who were in attendance at the convocation. The comments of four major ABHIDHARMIKAs (Ghosa, DHARMATRATA, VASUMITRA, and Buddhadeva) are interwoven into the MahAvibhAsA's contextual analysis of KAtyAyanīputra's material from the JNAnaprasthAna, making the text a veritable encyclopedia of contemporary Buddhist scholasticism. Since the MahAvibhAsA also purports to be a commentary on the central text of the SarvAstivAda school, it therefore offers a comprehensive picture of the development of SarvAstivAda thought after the compilation of the JNAnaprasthAna. The MahAvibhAsA is divided into eight sections (grantha) and several chapters (varga), which systematically follow the eight sections and forty-three chapters of the JNAnaprasthAna in presenting its explication. Coverage of each topic begins with an overview of varying interpretations found in different Buddhist and non-Buddhist schools, detailed coverage of the positions of the four major SarvAstivAda Abhidharmikas, and finally the definitive judgment of the compilers, the KAsmīri followers of KAtyAyanĪputra, who call themselves the VibhAsAsAstrins. The MahAvibhAsA was the major influence on the systematic scholastic elaboration of SarvAstivAda doctrine that appears (though with occasional intrusions from the positions of the SarvAstivAda's more-progressive SAUTRANTIKA offshoot) in VASUBANDHU's influential ABHIDHARMAKOsABHAsYA, which itself elicited a spirited response from later SarvAstivAda-VaibhAsika scholars, such as SAMGHABHADRA in his *NYAYANUSARA. The MahAvibhAsa was not translated into Tibetan until the twentieth century, when a translation entitled Bye brag bshad mdzod chen mo was made at the Sino-Tibetan Institute by the Chinese monk FAZUN between 1946 and 1949. He presented a copy of the manuscript to the young fourteenth DALAI LAMA on the Dalai Lama's visit to Beijing in 1954, but it is not known whether it is still extant.

Anak, Sons of; Anakim (Hebrew) ‘Ānāq, ‘Ānāqīm An ancient race of giants in the Bible. When Moses sent Joshua to spy out the land of Canaan, the people seen were “men of a great stature. And there we saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants: and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers, and so we were in their sight” (Numbers 13:32-3). Blavatsky comments that the giants of antiquity “lived and flourished one million rather than between three and four thousand years ago. The Anakim of Joshua . . . are thus a piece of Israelite fancy, unless indeed the people of Israel claim for Joshua an antiquity and origin in the Eocene, or at any rate in the Miocene age, and change the millenniums of their chronology into millions of years” (SD 2:340).

ANNotated Ada ::: (language, specification) (Anna) A specification language developed at Stanford University ca. 1980 for formally specifying Ada programs. It has a Specification Analyzer and a Consistency Checking System. It adds semantic assertions in the form of Ada comments. .[ANNA - A Language for Annotating Ada Programs, David Luckham et al, Springer 1987]. (1994-11-01)

ANNotated Ada "language, specification" (Anna) A {specification} language developed at {Stanford University} ca. 1980 for formally specifying {Ada} programs. It has a Specification Analyzer and a Consistency Checking System. It adds semantic {assertions} in the form of Ada {comments}. {(ftp://anna.stanford.edu/pub/anna/)}. ["ANNA - A Language for Annotating Ada Programs", David Luckham et al, Springer 1987]. (1994-11-01)

annotate ::: n. --> To explain or criticize by notes; as, to annotate the works of Bacon. ::: v. i. --> To make notes or comments; -- with on or upon.

Baotang zong. (J. Hotoshu; K. Podang chong 保唐宗). An important school of the early Chinese CHAN tradition, known for its radically antinomian doctrines. The school takes its name from the monastery (Baotangsi) where the school's putative founder, BAOTANG WUZHU, resided. The monastery was located in Jiannan (in modern-day Sichuan province), in the vicinity of the city of Chengdu. Until the recent discovery of the LIDAI FABAO JI at DUNHUANG, information on this school was limited to the pejorative comments found in the writings of the ninth-century CHAN historian GUIFENG ZONGMI. Owing perhaps to the antinomian teachings espoused by its members, the school was short-lived. The school rejected all soteriological practices and devotional activities. No images of the Buddha were enshrined in their monasteries, and they questioned the value of chanting scriptures and performing repentance rituals. Instead, they insisted on "simply sitting in emptiness and quietude" (zhikong xianzuo) and transmitting "no thought" (WUNIAN) in lieu of formal precepts. The Baotang lineage is often traced back to Hui'an (582-709; also known as Lao'an, "Old An," because of his long life), a disciple of the fifth patriarch HONGREN, and to Hui'an's lay disciple Chen Chuzhang (d.u.), through whose influence Baotang Wuzhu is said to have attained awakening. Although the author of the Lidai fabao ji, a disciple of Wuzhu, attempts to associate the Baotang lineage with that of CHoNGJONG MUSANG, the founder of the JINGZHONG ZONG, these schools are now considered to have been two distinct traditions. Like the Jingzhong school, the Baotang zong also seems to have exerted considerable influence on the development of Tibetan Buddhism, especially on the early teachings of RDZOGS CHEN (dzogchen).

bit bucket ::: (jargon) 1. (Or write-only memory, WOM) The universal data sink (originally, the mythical receptacle used to catch bits when they fall off the data is said to have gone to the bit bucket. On Unix, often used for /dev/null. Sometimes amplified as the Great Bit Bucket in the Sky.2. The place where all lost mail and news messages eventually go. The selection is performed according to Finagle's Law; important mail is much more likely to getting delivered. Routing to the bit bucket is automatically performed by mail-transfer agents, news systems, and the lower layers of the network.3. The ideal location for all unwanted mail responses: Flames about this article to the bit bucket. Such a request is guaranteed to overflow one's mailbox with flames.4. Excuse for all mail that has not been sent. I mailed you those figures last week; they must have landed in the bit bucket. Compare black hole.This term is used purely in jest. It is based on the fanciful notion that bits are objects that are not destroyed but only misplaced. This appears to have been the CPU stored bits into memory it was actually pulling them out of the bit box.Another variant of this legend has it that, as a consequence of the parity preservation law, the number of 1 bits that go to the bit bucket must equal the qualified computer technician can empty a full bit bucket as part of scheduled maintenance.In contrast, a chad box is a real container used to catch chad. This may be related to the origin of the term bit bucket [Comments ?]. (1996-11-20)

bit bucket "jargon" 1. (Or "{write-only memory}", "WOM") The universal data sink (originally, the mythical receptacle used to catch bits when they fall off the end of a {register} during a {shift} instruction). Discarded, lost, or destroyed data is said to have "gone to the bit bucket". On {Unix}, often used for {/dev/null}. Sometimes amplified as "the Great Bit Bucket in the Sky". 2. The place where all lost mail and news messages eventually go. The selection is performed according to {Finagle's Law}; important mail is much more likely to end up in the bit bucket than junk mail, which has an almost 100% probability of getting delivered. Routing to the bit bucket is automatically performed by mail-transfer agents, news systems, and the lower layers of the network. 3. The ideal location for all unwanted mail responses: "Flames about this article to the bit bucket." Such a request is guaranteed to overflow one's mailbox with flames. 4. Excuse for all mail that has not been sent. "I mailed you those figures last week; they must have landed in the bit bucket." Compare {black hole}. This term is used purely in jest. It is based on the fanciful notion that bits are objects that are not destroyed but only misplaced. This appears to have been a mutation of an earlier term "bit box", about which the same legend was current; old-time hackers also report that trainees used to be told that when the CPU stored bits into memory it was actually pulling them "out of the bit box". Another variant of this legend has it that, as a consequence of the "parity preservation law", the number of 1 bits that go to the bit bucket must equal the number of 0 bits. Any imbalance results in bits filling up the bit bucket. A qualified computer technician can empty a full bit bucket as part of scheduled maintenance. In contrast, a "{chad box}" is a real container used to catch {chad}. This may be related to the origin of the term "bit bucket" [Comments ?]. (1996-11-20)

Biyan lu. (J. Hekiganroku; K. Pyogam nok 碧巖録). In Chinese, "Emerald Grotto Record" or, as it is popularly known in the West, the "Blue Cliff Record"; compiled by CHAN master YUANWU KEQIN; also known by its full title of Foguo Yuanwu chanshi biyan lu ("Emerald Grotto Record of Chan Master Foguo Yuanwu"). The Biyan lu is one of the two most famous and widely used collection of Chan cases (GONG'AN), along with the WUMEN GUAN ("The Gateless Checkpoint"). The anthology is built around XUEDOU CHONGXIAN's Xuedou heshang baice songgu, an earlier independent collection of one hundred old Chan cases (GUCE) with verse commentary; Xuedou's text is embedded within the Biyan lu and Yuanwu's comments are interspersed throughout. Each of the one hundred cases, with a few exceptions, is introduced by a pointer (CHUISHI), a short introductory paragraph composed by Yuanwu. Following the pointer, the term "raised" (ju) is used to formally mark the actual case. Each case is followed by interlinear notes known as annotations or capping phrases (ZHUOYU; J. JAKUGO) and prose commentary (PINGCHANG), both composed by Yuanwu. The phrase "the verse says" (song yue) subsequently introduces Xuedou's verse, which is also accompanied by its own capping phrases and prose commentary, both added by Yuanwu. The cases, comments, and capping phrases found in the Biyan lu were widely used and read among both the clergy and laity in China, Korea, Japan, and Vietnam as an contemplative tool in Chan meditation practice and, in some contexts, as a token of social or institutional status. A famous (or perhaps infamous) story tells of the Chan master DAHUI ZONGGAO, the major disciple of Yuanwu, burning his teacher's Biyan lu for fear that his students would become attached to the words of Xuedou and Yuanwu. The Biyan lu shares many cases with the Wumen guan, and the two texts continue to function as the foundation of training in the Japanese RINZAI Zen school.

blog "web" (From "web log") Any kind of diary published on the {web}, usually written by an individual (a "blogger") but also by corporate bodies. Blogging is regarded by some as an important social phenomenon as it contributes to the easy exchange of ideas among a large and growing international community ("the blogosphere"). A blog is just a special kind of {website}. The {home page} usually shows the most recent article and links to earlier articles, the owner's profile and web logs written by the owner's friends. There is usually a facility for readers to add comments to the bottom of articles. Blogs usually provide an {RSS feed} of current articles, allowing readers to subscribe by adding the feed to their favourite RSS reader. Many sites, e.g. {(http://blogger.com/)}, let you create a blog for free. Many blogs consist almost entirely of links to other web logs, some publish original content, a few are worth reading. (2013-08-15)

blurb: Publisher’s comments printed on the cover or sleeve of a book, often including an enthusiastic brief summary of the contents. The blurb is designed to entice the reader.

boxed comments ::: (programming) Comments that occupy several lines by themselves; so called because in assembler and C code they are often surrounded by a box in a style similar to this: /************************************************** the box. The sparest variant omits all but the comment delimiters themselves; the box is implied.Opposite of winged comments.[Jargon File] (1997-07-21)

boxed comments "programming" {Comments} that occupy several lines by themselves; so called because in {assembler} and {C} code they are often surrounded by a box in a style similar to this: /************************************************* * * This is a boxed comment in C style * *************************************************/ Common variants of this style omit the asterisks in column 2 or add a matching row of asterisks closing the right side of the box. The sparest variant omits all but the comment {delimiters} themselves; the "box" is implied. Opposite of {winged comments}. [{Jargon File}] (1997-07-21)

c2man "tool" An automatic {documentation} extraction tool by Graham Stoney. c2man extracts comments from {C} source code to generate functional interface documentation in the same format as sections 2 and 3 of the {Unix} Programmer's Manual. It looks for comments near the objects they document, rather than imposing a rigid {syntax} or requiring the programmer to use a typesetting language. Acceptable documentation can often be generated from existing code with no modifications. c2man supports both {K&R} and {ISO}/{ANSI C} coding styles. Output can be in {nroff} -man, {Texinfo} or {LaTeX} format. It {automagically} documents {enum} parameter and return values, it handles both {C} (/* */) and {C++} (//) style comments, but not C++ grammar (yet). It requires {yacc}, {byacc} or {bison} for syntax analysis; {lex} or {flex} for {lexical analysis} and {nroff}, {groff}, {texinfo} or {LaTeX} to format the output. It runs under {Unix}, {OS/2} and {MS-DOS}. Version 2.0 patchlevel 25 (1995-10-25). {Washington FTP (ftp://ftp.wustl.edu/usenet/comp.sources.reviewed/volume03/)}. {Stuttgart FTP (ftp://ftp.informatik.uni-stuttgart.de/pub/archive/comp.sources/reviewed/)}. {Patches (ftp://lth.se/pub/netnews/sources.bugs/volume93/sep/)}. Patches posted to {Usenet} newsgroups {news:comp.sources.bugs} and {news:comp.sources.reviewed}. (2003-05-02)

c2man ::: (tool) An automatic documentation extraction tool by Graham Stoney. c2man extracts comments from C source code to generate functional interface language. Acceptable documentation can often be generated from existing code with no modifications.c2man supports both K&R and ISO/ANSI C coding styles. Output can be in nroff -man, Texinfo or LaTeX format. It automagically documents enum parameter and flex for lexical analysis and nroff, groff, texinfo or LaTeX to format the output. It runs under Unix, OS/2 and MS-DOS.Version 2.0 patchlevel 25 (1995-10-25). . . .Patches posted to Usenet newsgroups comp.sources.bugs and comp.sources.reviewed.(2003-05-02)

Chanlin sengbao zhuan. (J. Zenrin soboden; K. Sollim sŭngbo chon 禪林僧寶傳). In Chinese, "Chronicles of the SAMGHA Jewel in the Forests of CHAN"; compiled in the twelfth century by the "lettered Chan" (WENZI CHAN) monk JUEFAN HUIHONG (1071-1128). Huihong intended for this chronicle to serve as a supplement to his own "Biographies of Eminent Monks" (GAOSENG ZHUAN), which is no longer extant. Huihong collected the biographies of over a hundred eminent Chan masters who were active in the lettered Chan movement between the late Tang and early Song dynasties, appending his own comments to each biography. Huihong's collection is said to have been pared down to eighty-one biographies by the Chan master DAHUI ZONGGAO. Later, Dahui's disciple Jinglao (d.u.) of Tanfeng added a biography of WUZU FAYAN, the teacher of Dahui's own master YUANWU KEQIN, and two other masters to the conclusion of Huihong's text, giving a total of eighty-four biographies in the extant collection. A postscript by XUTANG ZHIYU appears at the end of the compilation. Unlike Chan "lamplight histories" (CHUANDENG LU), which are typically arranged according to principal and collateral lineages, the monks treated in this compilation are listed according to their significance in the origin and development of the "lettered Chan" movement; Huihong's treatment undermines the neat charts of master-disciple connections deriving from the lamplight histories, which have become so well known in the literature. In Japan, a copy of the Chanlin sengbao zhuan was published as early as 1295 and again in 1644.

CLiP "programming, tool" A {documentation} extractor by Eric W. van Ammers that recognises a particular style of {comments}. This style can be adjusted to suit virtually any programming language and target documentation language. CLiP was designed to be compatible with {hypertext} systems. Version 2.1 runs on {MS-DOS}, {VAX}/{VMS} and {Unix} {(ftp://sun01.info.wau.nl/clip/)}. (1993-11-18)

commentary ::: v. i. --> A series of comments or annotations; esp., a book of explanations or expositions on the whole or a part of the Scriptures or of some other work.
A brief account of transactions or events written hastily, as if for a memorandum; -- usually in the plural; as, Caesar&


commentate ::: v. t. & i. --> To write comments or notes upon; to make comments.

commentator ::: n. --> One who writes a commentary or comments; an expositor; an annotator.

commenter ::: n. --> One who makes or writes comments; a commentator; an annotator.

comment out "programming" To surround a section of code with {comment} {delimiters} or to prefix every line in the section with a comment marker. This prevents it from being compiled or interpreted. It is often done to temporarily disable the code, e.g. during {debugging} or when the code is redundant or obsolete, but is being left in the source to make the intent of the active code clearer. The word "comment" is sometimes replaced with whatever {syntax} is used to mark comments in the language in question, e.g. "hash out" ({shell script}, {Perl}), "REM out" ({BASIC}), etc. Compare {condition out}. [{Jargon File}] (1998-04-28)

comment out ::: (programming) To surround a section of code with comment delimiters or to prefix every line in the section with a comment marker. This prevents it from e.g. during debugging or when the code is redundant or obsolete, but is being left in the source to make the intent of the active code clearer.The word comment is sometimes replaced with whatever syntax is used to mark comments in the language in question, e.g. hash out (shell script, Perl), REM out (BASIC), etc.Compare condition out.[Jargon File] (1998-04-28)

comment "programming" (Or "remark") Explanatory text embedded in program {source} (or less often data) intended to help human readers understand it. Code completely without comments is often hard to read, but code with too many comments is also bad, especially if the comments are not kept up-to-date with changes to the code. Too much commenting may mean that the code is over-complicated. A good rule is to comment everything that needs it but write code that doesn't need much of it. Comments that explain __why__ something is done and how the code relates to its environment are useful. A particularly irksome form of over-commenting explains exactly what each statement does, even when it is obvious to any reasonably competant programmer, e.g. /* Open the input file */ infd = open(input_file, O_RDONLY); (2007-02-19)

comment ::: (programming) (Or remark) Explanatory text embedded in program source (or less often data) intended to help human readers understand it.Code completely without comments is often hard to read, but too heavily commented code isn't much better, especially if the comments are not kept is over-complicated. A good rule is to comment everything that needs it but write code that doesn't need much of it.A particularly irksome form of over-commenting explains exactly what each statement does, even when it is obvious to any reasonably competant programmer, e.g. /* Open the input file */ infd = open(input_file, O_RDONLY); (1998-04-28)

comment ::: (programming) (Or remark) Explanatory text embedded in program source (or less often data) intended to help human readers understand it.Code completely without comments is often hard to read, but too heavily commented code isn't much better, especially if the comments are not kept is over-complicated. A good rule is to comment everything that needs it but write code that doesn't need much of it.A particularly irksome form of over-commenting explains exactly what each statement does, even when it is obvious to any reasonably competant programmer, e.g. /* Open the input file */infd = open(input_file, O_RDONLY); (1998-04-28)

Comments in Dupont-Sommer, The Dead Sea Scrolls.

condition out "programming" A programming technique that prevents a section of {code} from being executed by putting it in an {if statement} whose condition is always false. It is often easier to do this than to {comment out} the code because you don't need to modify the code itself (as you would if commenting out each line individually) or worry about {nested comments} within the code (as you would if putting nesting comment delimiters around it). For example, in {Perl} you could write: if (0) { ...code to be ignored... } In a compiled language, the {compiler} could simply generate no code for the whole if statement. Some compiled languages such as C provide {compile-time directives} that achieve the same effect, e.g.:

Culaniddesa. In PAli, "Shorter Exposition," second part of the Niddesa ("Exposition"), an early commentarial work on the SUTTANIPATA included in the PAli SUTTAPItAKA as the eleventh book of the KHUDDAKANIKAYA; also written as Cullaniddesa. Attributed by tradition to the Buddha's chief disciple, SAriputta (S. sARIPUTRA), the Niddesa is divided into two sections: the MAHANIDDESA ("Longer Exposition"), and Culaniddesa. The MahAniddesa comments on the sixteen suttas (S. SuTRA) of the AttHAKAVAGGA chapter of the SuttanipAta, while the Culaniddesa comments on the sixteen suttas of the ParAyanavagga chapter and on the KhaggavisAnasutta (see KHAdGAVIsAnA). The MahAniddesa and Culaniddesa do not comment on any of the remaining contents of the SuttanipAta, a feature that has suggested to historians that at the time of their composition the Atthakavagga and ParAyanavagga were autonomous anthologies not yet incorporated into the SuttanipAta, and that the KhaggavisAnasutta likewise circulated independently. The exegesis given to the SuttanipAta by the MahA- and Culaniddesa displays the influence of the PAli ABHIDHAMMA (S. ABHIDHARMA) and passages from it are frequently quoted in the VISUDDHIMAGGA. Both parts of the Niddesa are formulaic in structure, a feature that appears to have been designed as a pedagogical aid to facilitate memorization. In Western scholarship, there has long been a debate regarding the dates of these two compositions, with some scholars dating them as early as the third century BCE, others to as late as the second century CE. The MahA- and Culaniddesa are the only commentarial texts besides the SUTTAVIBHAnGA of the VINAYAPItAKA to be included in the Sri Lankan and Thai recensions of the PAli canon. In contrast, the Burmese canon includes two additional early commentaries, the NETTIPAKARAnA and PEtAKOPADESA, as books sixteen and seventeen in its version of the KhuddakanikAya.

Dari jing shu. (J. Dainichikyosho; K. Taeil kyong so 大日經疏). In Chinese, "Commentary on the MAHAVAIROCANASuTRA"; dictated by sUBHAKARASIMHA and committed to writing with additional notes by his disciple YIXING. After Yixing's death, the Dari jing shu was further edited and expanded by the monks Zhiyan (d.u.) and Wengu (d.u.), and this new edition is known as the DARI JING YISHI. Both editions were transmitted to Japan (the Dari jing shu by KuKAI, Dari jing yishi by ENNIN) and they seem to have circulated without a determinate number of volumes or fixed title. SAICHo, for example, cites a fourteen-roll edition of the Dari jing shu, and Kukai cites a twenty-roll edition; Ennin cites a fourteen-roll edition of the Dari jing yishi, and ENCHIN cites a ten-roll edition. Those belonging to the Tomitsu line of Kukai's SHINGON tradition thus began to exclusively paraphrase the twenty-roll edition of the Dari jing shu, while those of the Taimitsu line of the TENDAI tradition relied solely on the version Ennin had brought back from China. The exact relation between the two editions remains a matter for further study. The first two rolls of the Dari jing shu, known more popularly in Japan as the "Kuchi no sho," provide notes and comments on the first chapter of the MAHAVAIROCANABHISAMBODHISuTRA and serve as an important source for the study of the MahAvairocanasutra's central doctrines. Numerous studies and commentaries on the Kuchi no sho exist. The rest of Yixing's commentary, known as the "Oku no sho," is largely concerned with matters of ritual and art (see MAndALA). Further explanations of the Oku no sho were primarily transmitted from master to disciple as an oral tradition in Japan; twelve such oral traditions are known to exist. The Dari jing shu played an important role in the rise of esoteric Buddhism (see TANTRA) in East Asia, and particularly in Japan.

Dattoli (Sanskrit) Dattoli One name of Agastya, a sage of the first manvantara, in his former birth as the son of the progenitor of the rakshasas. Variants are Dattotti, Dattoi, Dattali, Dattotri, Dattobhri, Dambhobhi, and Dhambholi. These “seven variants have each a secret sense, and refer in the esoteric comments to various ethnological classifications, and also to physiological and anthropological mysteries of the primitive races. For, surely, the Rakshasas are not demons, but simply the primitive and ferocious giants, the Atlanteans, who were scattered on the face of the globe as the Fifth Race is now. Vasishta is a warrant to this, if his words addressed to Parasara, who attempted a bit of jadoo (sorcery), which he calls ‘sacrifice,’ for the destruction of the Rakshasas, mean anything. For he says, ‘Let no more of these unoffending “Spirits of Darkness” be destroyed’ . . .” (SD 2:232n).

deep magic [possibly from C. S. Lewis's "Narnia" books] An awesomely arcane technique central to a program or system, especially one neither generally published nor available to hackers at large (compare {black art}); one that could only have been composed by a true {wizard}. Compiler optimisation techniques and many aspects of {OS} design used to be {deep magic}; many techniques in cryptography, signal processing, graphics, and AI still are. Compare {heavy wizardry}. Especially found in comments of the form "Deep magic begins here.". Compare {voodoo programming}.

deep magic ::: [possibly from C. S. Lewis's Narnia books] An awesomely arcane technique central to a program or system, especially one neither generally published nor processing, graphics, and AI still are. Compare heavy wizardry. Especially found in comments of the form Deep magic begins here.. Compare voodoo programming.

Delivered Source Instruction "programming, unit" (DSI) One line of source code (LOC) developed by a project. DSI is the primary input to many tools for estimating software cost. The term "delivered" is generally meant to exclude non-delivered support software such as test drivers. However, if these are developed with the same care as delivered software, with their own reviews, test plans, documentation, etc., then they should be counted. The "source instructions" include all program instructions created by project personnel and processed into {machine code} by some combination of preprocessors, compilers, and assemblers. It excludes comments and unmodified utility software. It includes {job control language}, format statements, and data declarations. (1996-05-29)

descant ::: v. i. --> Originally, a double song; a melody or counterpoint sung above the plain song of the tenor; a variation of an air; a variation by ornament of the main subject or plain song.
The upper voice in part music.
The canto, cantus, or soprano voice; the treble.
A discourse formed on its theme, like variations on a musical air; a comment or comments.
To sing a variation or accomplishment.


emoticon ::: (chat) /ee-moh'ti-kon/ An ASCII glyph used to indicate an emotional state in electronic mail or news. Although originally intended mostly as jokes, comments to be badly misinterpreted (not always even by newbies), resulting in arguments and flame wars.Hundreds of emoticons have been proposed, but only a few are in common use. These include: :-) smiley face (for humour, laughter,friendliness, occasionally sarcasm) generic term synonymous with emoticon, as well as specifically for the happy-face emoticon.The emoticon was invented by one Scott Fahlman on the CMU bboard systems on 1982-09-19. He later wrote: I wish I had saved the original post, or at least that he remembers this original posting, which has subsequently been .As with exclamation marks, overuse of the smiley is a mark of loserhood! More than one per paragraph is a fairly sure sign that you've gone over the line.[Jargon File](2006-07-12)

emoticon "messaging" /ee-moh'ti-kon/ (Or "smiley") An {ASCII} {glyph} used to indicate an emotional state in text-only {electronic messaging} systems such as {chat}, {electronic mail}, {SMS} or {news}. Although originally intended mostly as jokes, emoticons are widely recognised if not expected; the lack of verbal and visual cues can otherwise cause non-serious comments to be misinterpreted, resulting in offence, arguments and {flame wars}. Hundreds of emoticons have been proposed, but only a few are in common use. These include: :-) "smiley face" (for humour, laughter, friendliness, occasionally sarcasm) :-( "frowney face" (for sadness, anger, or upset) ;-) "half-smiley" (ha ha only serious); also known as "semi-smiley" or "winkey face". :-/ "wry face" These are more recognisable if you tilt your head to the left. The first two are by far the most frequently encountered. Hyphenless forms of them are also common. The acronym "{lol}" is also often used in the same context for the same effect (and is easier to type). The emoticon was invented by one Scott Fahlman on the {CMU} {bboard} systems on 1982-09-19. He later wrote: "I had no idea that I was starting something that would soon pollute all the world's communication channels." {GLS} confirms that he remembers this original posting, which has subsequently been {retrieved from a backup (http://research.microsoft.com/~mbj/Smiley/BBoard_Contents.html)}. As with exclamation marks, overuse of the smiley is a mark of loserhood! More than one per paragraph is a fairly sure sign that you've gone over the line. [{Jargon File}] (2010-05-16)

Encapsulated PostScript (EPS) An extension of the {PostScript} graphics file format developed by {Adobe Systems}. EPS is used for {PostScript} graphics files that are to be incorporated into other documents. An EPS file includes {pragmas} (special PostScript comments) giving information such as the bounding box, page number and fonts used. On some computers, EPS files include a low resolution version of the PostScript image. On the {Macintosh} this is in {PICT} format, while on the {IBM PC} it is in {TIFF} or {Microsoft Windows} {metafile} format. [Spec?] (1995-01-04)

Encapsulated PostScript ::: (EPS) An extension of the PostScript graphics file format developed by Adobe Systems. EPS is used for PostScript graphics files that are to be incorporated into other documents. An EPS file includes pragmas (special PostScript comments) giving information such as the bounding box, page number and fonts used.On some computers, EPS files include a low resolution version of the PostScript image. On the Macintosh this is in PICT format, while on the IBM PC it is in TIFF or Microsoft Windows metafile format.[Spec?] (1995-01-04)

fdlibm ::: A new version of the C maths library, libm, by Dr. K-C Ng. It is the basis for the bundled /usr/lib/libm.so in Solaris 2.3 for SPARC and for future Solaris 2 in accordance with various language standards or in the spirit of IEEE 754. The C source code should be portable to any IEEE 754 system.E-mail: (send all from fdlibm), (comments and bug reports). . (1993-12-18).

fdlibm A new version of the {C} maths library, libm, by Dr. K-C Ng. It is the basis for the bundled /usr/lib/libm.so in Solaris 2.3 for SPARC and for future Solaris 2 releases for x86 and PowerPC. It provides the standard functions necessary to pass the usual test suites. This new libm can be configured to handle exceptions in accordance with various language standards or in the spirit of {IEEE 754}. The C source code should be portable to any IEEE 754 system. E-mail: "netlib@research.att.com" ("send all from fdlibm"), "fdlibm-comments@sunpro.eng.sun.com" (comments and bug reports). {(ftp://netlib.att.com/netlib)}. (1993-12-18).

FIXME "programming" A standard tag often put in {comments} near a piece of code that needs work. The point of doing so is that a {grep} or a similar pattern-matching tool can find all such places quickly. This is common in {GNU} code. Compare {XXX}. [{Jargon File}] (2001-03-16)

FIXME ::: (programming) A standard tag often put in comments near a piece of code that needs work. The point of doing so is that a grep or a similar pattern-matching tool can find all such places quickly. This is common in GNU code. Compare XXX.[Jargon File](2001-03-16)

flame "messaging" To rant, to speak or write incessantly and/or rabidly on some relatively uninteresting subject or with a patently ridiculous attitude or with hostility toward a particular person or group of people. "Flame" is used as a verb ("Don't flame me for this, but..."), a flame is a single flaming message, and "flamage" /flay'm*j/ the content. Flamage may occur in any medium (e.g. spoken, {electronic mail}, {Usenet} news, {web}). Sometimes a flame will be delimited in text by marks such as ""flame on"..."flame off"". The term was probably independently invented at several different places. Mark L. Levinson says, "When I joined the Harvard student radio station (WHRB) in 1966, the terms flame and flamer were already well established there to refer to impolite ranting and to those who performed it. Communication among the students who worked at the station was by means of what today you might call a paper-based Usenet group. Everyone wrote comments to one another in a large ledger. Documentary evidence for the early use of flame/flamer is probably still there for anyone fanatical enough to research it." It is reported that "flaming" was in use to mean something like "interminably drawn-out semi-serious discussions" (late-night bull sessions) at Carleton College during 1968-1971. {Usenetter} Marc Ramsey, who was at {WPI} from 1972 to 1976, says: "I am 99% certain that the use of "flame" originated at WPI. Those who made a nuisance of themselves insisting that they needed to use a {TTY} for "real work" came to be known as "flaming asshole lusers". Other particularly annoying people became "flaming asshole ravers", which shortened to "flaming ravers", and ultimately "flamers". I remember someone picking up on the Human Torch pun, but I don't think "flame on/off" was ever much used at WPI." See also {asbestos}. It is possible that the hackish sense of "flame" is much older than that. The poet Chaucer was also what passed for a wizard hacker in his time; he wrote a treatise on the astrolabe, the most advanced computing device of the day. In Chaucer's "Troilus and Cressida", Cressida laments her inability to grasp the proof of a particular mathematical theorem; her uncle Pandarus then observes that it's called "the fleminge of wrecches." This phrase seems to have been intended in context as "that which puts the wretches to flight" but was probably just as ambiguous in Middle English as "the flaming of wretches" would be today. One suspects that Chaucer would feel right at home on {Usenet}. [{Jargon File}] (2001-03-11)

glossator ::: n. --> A writer of glosses or comments; a commentator.

glossist ::: n. --> A writer of comments.

glossography ::: n. --> The writing of glossaries, glosses, or comments for illustrating an author.

grind ::: 1. (MIT and Berkeley) To prettify hardcopy of code, especially LISP code, by reindenting lines, printing keywords and comments in distinct fonts (if available), etc. This usage was associated with the MacLISP community and is now rare; prettyprint was and is the generic term for such operations.2. (Unix) To generate the formatted version of a document from the nroff, troff, TeX, or Scribe source.3. To run seemingly interminably, especially (but not necessarily) if performing some tedious and inherently useless task. Similar to crunch or grovel. Grinding has a connotation of using a lot of CPU time, but it is possible to grind a disk, network, etc.See also hog.4. To make the whole system slow. Troff really grinds a PDP-11.5. grind grind excl. Roughly, Isn't the machine slow today![Jargon File] (1994-12-16)

grind 1. (MIT and Berkeley) To prettify hardcopy of code, especially LISP code, by reindenting lines, printing keywords and comments in distinct fonts (if available), etc. This usage was associated with the MacLISP community and is now rare; {prettyprint} was and is the generic term for such operations. 2. (Unix) To generate the formatted version of a document from the {nroff}, {troff}, {TeX}, or Scribe source. 3. To run seemingly interminably, especially (but not necessarily) if performing some tedious and inherently useless task. Similar to {crunch} or {grovel}. Grinding has a connotation of using a lot of CPU time, but it is possible to grind a disk, network, etc. See also {hog}. 4. To make the whole system slow. "Troff really grinds a PDP-11." 5. "grind grind" excl. Roughly, "Isn't the machine slow today!" [{Jargon File}] (1994-12-16)

guest book "web" The electronic equivalent of the physical notebooks found in some small hotels, in which visitors can write their names, comments and suggestions for the benefit of the proprietors and future visitors or purely for posterity. The electronic version is a form on a {website} into which users can enter similar details for display on the site. (2009-01-15)

heavy wizardry Code or designs that trade on a particularly intimate knowledge or experience of a particular operating system or language or complex application interface. Distinguished from {deep magic}, which trades more on arcane *theoretical* knowledge. Writing device drivers is heavy wizardry; so is interfacing to {X} (sense 2) without a toolkit. Especially found in source-code comments of the form "Heavy wizardry begins here". Compare {voodoo programming}. [{Jargon File}]

heavy wizardry ::: Code or designs that trade on a particularly intimate knowledge or experience of a particular operating system or language or complex application interface. (sense 2) without a toolkit. Especially found in source-code comments of the form Heavy wizardry begins here.Compare voodoo programming.[Jargon File]

htmlcommentbox.com "web" A service for adding a comment box to any web page, allowing visitors to leave comments and the site owner to review them. {(http://htmlcommentbox.com/)} (2013-03-20)

Huayan jing helun. (J. Kegongyo goron; K. Hwaom kyong hap non 華嚴經合論). In Chinese, "A Comprehensive Exposition of the AVATAMSAKASuTRA," a commentary written by LI TONGXUAN in the Tang dynasty (618-907), a reclusive lay Huayan adept and contemporary of the HUAYAN patriarch FAZANG. The commentary is also known as the "Commentary to the New [Translation] of the AvataMsakasutra" (Xin Huayan jing lun), because it comments on sIKsĀNANDA's "new" eighty-roll translation of the AvataMsakasutra, rather than Buddhabhadra's "old" sixty-roll rendering, which had been the focus of all earlier Huayan commentarial writing. Li Tongxuan's "Exposition of the AvataMsakasutra" contained ideas that were quite distinct from standard Huayan interpretations, such as the emphasis on the centrality of the preliminary soteriological stage of the "ten faiths" (shixin), rather than the "ten abodes" (shizhu) that had been stressed in previous Huayan accounts. Li's work subsequently played a key role in the revitalization of the Chinese Huayan exegetical tradition, especially in the thought of the Huayan patriarch CHENGGUAN. Li's worked dropped out of circulation soon after its composition, but after centuries in obscurity, the exposition was rediscovered by Chinese CHAN adepts during the Song dynasty, such as DAHUI ZONGGAO, and by Korean SoN adepts during the Koryo dynasty for the provocative parallels they perceived between Li Tongxuan's treatment of Huayan soteriology and the Chan approach of sudden awakening (DUNWU). The Korean Son exegete POJO CHINUL (1158-1210) was so inspired by the text that he wrote a three-roll abridgment of it entitled "Excerpts from the Exposition of the AvataMsakasutra" (Hwaom non choryo), which he used to demonstrate the parallels between the Huayan soteriological schema and his preferred meditative approach of "sudden awakening followed by gradual cultivation" (K. tono chomsu; C. TUNWU JIANXIU). In Japan, Li Tongxuan's advocacy of meditating on the light emanating from the Buddha's body was also a major influence on MYoE KoBEN.

Hungarian Notation "language, convention" A linguistic convention requiring one or more letters to be added to the start of {variable} names to denote {scope} and/or {type}. Hungarian Notation is mainly confined to {Microsoft Windows} programming environments, such as Microsoft {C}, {C++} and {Visual Basic}. It was originally devised by {Charles Simonyi}, a Hungarian, who was a senior programmer at {Microsoft} for many years. He disliked the way that names in C programs gave no clue as to the type, leading to frequent programmer errors. According to legend, fellow programmers at Microsoft, on seeing the convoluted, vowel-less variable names produced by his scheme, said, "This might as well be in Greek - or even Hungarian!". They made up the name "Hungarian notation" (possibly with "{reverse Polish notation}" in mind). Hungarian Notation is not really necessary when using a modern {strongly-typed language} as the {compiler} warns the programmer if a variable of one type is used as if it were another type. It is less useful in {object-oriented programming} languages such as {C++}, where many variables are going to be instances of {classes} and so begin with "obj". In addition, variable names are essentially only {comments}, and thus are just as susceptible to becoming out-of-date and incorrect as any other comment. For example, if a {signed} {short} {int} becomes an unsigned {long} int, the variable name, and every use of it, should be changed to reflect its new type. A variable's name should describe the values it holds. Type and scope are aspects of this, but Hungarian Notation overemphasises their importance by allocating so much of the start of the name to them. Furthermore, type and scope information can be found from the variable's declaration. Ironically, this is particularly easy in the development environments in which Hungarian Notation is typically used. {Simonyi's original monograph (http://msdn.microsoft.com/library/techart/hunganotat.htm)}. {Microsoft VB Naming Conventions (http://support.microsoft.com/support/kb/articles/Q110/2/64.asp)}. (2003-09-11)

Hungarian Notation ::: (language, convention) A linguistic convention requiring one or more letters to be added to the start of variable names to denote scope and/or type.Hungarian Notation is mainly confined to Microsoft Windows programming environments, such as Microsoft C, C++ and Visual Basic. It was originally Microsoft for many years. He disliked the way that names in C programs gave no clue as to the type, leading to frequent programmer errors.According to legend, fellow programmers at Microsoft, on seeing the convoluted, vowel-less variable names produced by his scheme, said, This might as well be in Greek - or even Hungarian!. They made up the name Hungarian notation (possibly with reverse Polish notation in mind).Hungarian Notation is not really necessary when using a modern strongly-typed language as the compiler warns the programmer if a variable of one type is used languages such as C++, where many variables are going to be instances of classes and so begin with obj.In addition, variable names are essentially only comments, and thus are just as susceptible to becoming out-of-date and incorrect as any other comment. For example, if a signed short int becomes an unsigned long int, the variable name, and every use of it, should be changed to reflect its new type.A variable's name should describe the values it holds. Type and scope are aspects of this, but Hungarian Notation overemphasises their importance by particularly easy in the development environments in which Hungarian Notation is typically used. . .(2003-09-11)

Internet-Draft (I-D) A draft working document of the {Internet Engineering Task Force}, its Areas, and its Working Groups. As the name implies, Internet-Drafts are purely discussion documents with no formal status. They are valid for a maximum of six months and may be updated, replaced, or obsoleted by other documents at any time. Very often, an I-D is a precursor to a {Request For Comments}. (1994-12-08)

Internet-Draft ::: (I-D) A draft working document of the Internet Engineering Task Force, its Areas, and its Working Groups. As the name implies, Internet-Drafts are purely months and may be updated, replaced, or obsoleted by other documents at any time. Very often, an I-D is a precursor to a Request For Comments. (1994-12-08)

Internet Experiment Note (IEN) A series of reports pertinent to the {Internet}. IENs were published in parallel to RFCs and are no longer active. See also {Internet-Draft}, {Request For Comments}. (1994-12-08)

Internet Experiment Note ::: (IEN) A series of reports pertinent to the Internet. IENs were published in parallel to RFCs and are no longer active.See also Internet-Draft, Request For Comments. (1994-12-08)

Karest (Egyptian) Karest. Mummy; Massey identifies it with Christ: “the author of the Christian name is the Mummy-Christ of Egypt, called the Karest, which was a type of the immortal spirit in man, the Christ within (as Paul has it), the divine offspring incarnated, the Logos, the Word of Truth, the Makheru of Egypt. It did not originate as a mere type! The preserved mummy was the dead body of any one that was Karest, or mummified, to be kept by the living; and, through constant repetition, this became a type of the resurrection from (not of!) the dead” (quoted BCW 188n). Blavatsky comments that this interpretation is too materialistic. (BCW 8: 197-200, 203)

Kashaya-vastra (Sanskrit) Kaṣāya-vastra Red-colored cloth; in the Puranas, the rishi Vaisishtha was asked by the gods to bring the sun, Surya, to satyaloka. The sun told him the worlds would be destroyed if he left, but the sage offered to place his kashaya-vastra in place of the sun’s disk, which he did. This red-colored cloth is the visible body of the sun. Blavatsky comments that “the ascetic’s dress being, as all know, dyed expressly into a red-yellow hue, a colouring matter with pinkish patches on it, rudely representing the vital principle in man’s blood, — the symbol of the vital principle in the sun, or what is now called chromosphere” (BCW 5:157).

Kvikkalkul "language" /kveek`kahl-kool'/ A deliberately cryptic programming language said to have been devised by the Swedish Navy in the 1950s as part of their abortive attempt at a nuclear weapons program. What little is known about it comes from a series of an anonymous posts to {Usenet} in 1994. The poster described the language, saying that he had programmed in Kvikkalkul when he worked for the Swedish Navy in the 1950s. It is an open question whether the posts were a {troll}, a subtle parody or truth stranger than fiction could ever be. Assuming it existed, Kvikkalkul is so much a {bondage-and-discipline language} that it is, in its own ways, even more bizarre than the deliberate parody language {INTERCAL}. Among its notable "features", all symbols in Kvikkalkul, including variable names and program labels, can consist only of digits. Operators consist entirely of the punctuation symbols (, ), -, and :. Kvikkalkul allows no {comments} - they might not correspond with the code. Kvikkalkul's only data type is the signed fixed-point fractional number, i.e. a number between (but not including) -1 and 1. Dealings with the {Real World} that require numbers outside that range are done with functions that notionally map that range to a larger range (e.g., -16383 to -16383) and back. Kvikkalkul had a probabilistic jump operator which, if given a negative probability, would act like a {COME FROM}. This was, sadly, deleted in later versions of the language. {(http://prefect.com/home24/kvikkalkul/)}. (1998-11-14)

Lenin, V. I.: (Ulianov, Vladimir Ilyich) Lenin is generally regarded as the chief exponent of dialectical materialism (q.v.) after Marx and Engels. He was born April 22, 1870, in Simbirsk, Russia, and received the professional training of a lawyer. A Marxist from his student days onward, he lived many years outside of Russia as a political refugee, and read widely in the social sciences and philosophy. In the latter field his "Philosophical Note Books" (as yet untranslated into English) containing detailed critical comments on the works of many leading philosophers, ancient and modern, and in particular on Hegel, indicate his close study of texts. In 1909, Lenin published his best known philosophic work "Materialism and Empirio-Cnticism" which was directed against "a number of writers, would-be Marxists" including Bazarov, Bogdanov, Lunacharsky, Berman, Helfond, Yushkevich, Suvorov and Valentinov, and especially against a symposium of this group published under the title, "Studies in the Philosophy of Marxism" which in general adopted the "positivistic" position of Mach and Avenanus.

luser "jargon, abuse" /loo'zr/ A {user}; especially one who is also a {loser}. ({luser} and {loser} are pronounced identically.) This word was coined around 1975 at {MIT}. Under {ITS}, when you first walked up to a terminal at MIT and typed Control-Z to get the computer's attention, it printed out some status information, including how many people were already using the computer; it might print "14 users", for example. Someone thought it would be a great joke to patch the system to print "14 losers" instead. There ensued a great controversy, as some of the users didn't particularly want to be called losers to their faces every time they used the computer. For a while several hackers struggled covertly, each changing the message behind the back of the others; any time you logged into the computer it was even money whether it would say "users" or "losers". Finally, someone tried the compromise "lusers", and it stuck. Later one of the ITS machines supported "luser" as a request-for-help command. ITS died the death in mid-1990, except as a museum piece; the usage lives on, however, and the term "luser" is often seen in program comments. See: also {LART}. Compare: {tourist}, {weenie}. [{Jargon File}] (1998-07-01)

luser ::: (jargon, abuse) /loo'zr/ A user; especially one who is also a loser. (luser and loser are pronounced identically.) This word was coined around 1975 at MIT.Under ITS, when you first walked up to a terminal at MIT and typed Control-Z to get the computer's attention, it printed out some status information, including was even money whether it would say users or losers. Finally, someone tried the compromise lusers, and it stuck.Later one of the ITS machines supported luser as a request-for-help command. ITS died the death in mid-1990, except as a museum piece; the usage lives on, however, and the term luser is often seen in program comments.See: also LART. Compare: tourist, weenie.[Jargon File] (1998-07-01)

Mahāniddesa. In Pāli, "Longer Exposition," first part of the Niddesa ("Exposition"), an early commentarial work on the SUTTANIPĀTA included in the Pāli SUTTAPItAKA as the eleventh book of the KHUDDAKANIKĀYA. The Niddesa is attributed by tradition to the Buddha's chief disciple, Sāriputta (S. sĀRIPUTRA), and is divided into two sections: the Mahāniddesa and the CulANIDDESA ("Shorter Exposition"). The Mahāniddesa comments on the sixteen suttas (S. SuTRA) of the AttHAKAVAGGA chapter of the Suttanipāta; the Culaniddesa comments on the sixteen suttas of the Parāyanavagga chapter and on the Khaggavisānasutta (see KHAdGAVIsĀnA). The Mahāniddesa and Culaniddesa do not comment on any of the remaining contents of the Suttanipāta, a feature that has suggested to historians that at the time of their composition the Atthakavagga and Parāyanavagga were autonomous anthologies not yet incorporated into the Suttanipāta, and that the Khaggavisānasutta likewise circulated independently. The exegesis of the Suttanipāta by the Mahā- and Culaniddesa displays the influence of the Pāli ABHIDHAMMA (S. ABHIDHARMA) and passages from it are frequently quoted in the VISUDDHIMAGGA. Both parts of the Niddesa are formulaic in structure, a feature that appears to have been designed as a pedagogical aid to facilitate memorization. In Western scholarship, there has long been a debate regarding their dates of composition, with some scholars dating them as early as the third century BCE, others to as late as the second century CE. The Mahā- and Culaniddesa are the only commentarial texts besides the SUTTAVIBHAnGA of the VINAYAPItAKA to be included in the Sri Lankan and Thai recensions of the Pāli canon. In contrast, the Burmese canon includes two additional early commentaries, the NETTIPAKARAnA and PEtAKOPADESA, as books sixteen and seventeen in its recension of the Khuddakanikāya.

mung /muhng/ (MIT, 1960) Mash Until No Good. Sometime after that the derivation from the {recursive acronym} "Mung Until No Good" became standard. 1. To make changes to a file, especially large-scale and irrevocable changes. See {BLT}. 2. To destroy, usually accidentally, occasionally maliciously. The system only mungs things maliciously; this is a consequence of {Finagle's Law}. See {scribble}, {mangle}, {trash}, {nuke}. Reports from {Usenet} suggest that the pronunciation /muhnj/ is now usual in speech, but the spelling "mung" is still common in program comments (compare the widespread confusion over the proper spelling of {kluge}). 3. The kind of beans of which the sprouts are used in Chinese food. (That's their real name! Mung beans! Really!) Like many early hacker terms, this one seems to have originated at {TMRC}; it was already in use there in 1958. Peter Samson (compiler of the original TMRC lexicon) thinks it may originally have been onomatopoeic for the sound of a relay spring (contact) being twanged. However, it is known that during the World Wars, "mung" was army slang for the ersatz creamed chipped beef better known as "SOS". [{Jargon File}] (1994-12-02)

mung ::: /muhng/ (MIT, 1960) Mash Until No Good.Sometime after that the derivation from the recursive acronym Mung Until No Good became standard. 1. To make changes to a file, especially large-scale and irrevocable changes.See BLT.2. To destroy, usually accidentally, occasionally maliciously. The system only mungs things maliciously; this is a consequence of Finagle's Law.See scribble, mangle, trash, nuke.Reports from Usenet suggest that the pronunciation /muhnj/ is now usual in speech, but the spelling mung is still common in program comments (compare the widespread confusion over the proper spelling of kluge).3. The kind of beans of which the sprouts are used in Chinese food. (That's their real name! Mung beans! Really!)Like many early hacker terms, this one seems to have originated at TMRC; it was already in use there in 1958. Peter Samson (compiler of the original TMRC Wars, mung was army slang for the ersatz creamed chipped beef better known as SOS.[Jargon File] (1994-12-02)

netiquette ::: (convention, networking) /net'ee-ket/ or /net'i-ket/ Network etiquette.The conventions of politeness recognised on Usenet and in mailing lists, such as not (cross-)posting to inappropriate groups and refraining from commercial advertising outside the biz groups.The most important rule of netiquette is Think before you post. If what you intend to post will not make a positive contribution to the newsgroup and be of interest to several readers, don't post it! Personal messages to one or two individuals should not be posted to newsgroups, use private e-mail instead.When following up an article, quote the minimum necessary to give some context to your reply and be careful to attribute the quote to the right person. If the appropriate to your reply, especially if the original message was posted to one or more inappropriate groups in the first place.Re-read and edit your posting carefully before you post. Check the spelling and grammar. Keep your lines to less than 70 characters. Don't post test messages humorous or sarcastic comments, it is conventional to append a smiley, but don't overuse them.Before asking a question, read the messages already in the group and read the group's FAQ if it has one. When you do post a question, follow it with please summary by mail. This avoids umpteen people posting the same answer to the group and umpteen others posting me toos.If you believe someone has violated netiquette, send them a message by _private e-mail_, DO NOT post a follow-up to the news. And be polite, they may not responsible for the crime - their account may have been used by someone else or their address forged.Be proud of your postings but don't post just to see your name in pixels. Remember: your future employer may be reading. . .[Jargon File] (1999-10-18)

netiquette "convention, networking" /net'ee-ket/ or /net'i-ket/ Network etiquette. The conventions of politeness recognised on {Usenet} and in {mailing lists}, such as not (cross-)posting to inappropriate groups and refraining from commercial advertising outside the biz groups. The most important rule of netiquette is "Think before you post". If what you intend to post will not make a positive contribution to the newsgroup and be of interest to several readers, don't post it! Personal messages to one or two individuals should not be posted to newsgroups, use private e-mail instead. When following up an article, quote the minimum necessary to give some context to your reply and be careful to attribute the quote to the right person. If the article you are responding to was posted to several groups, edit the distribution ("Newsgroups:") header to contain only those groups which are appropriate to your reply, especially if the original message was posted to one or more inappropriate groups in the first place. Re-read and edit your posting carefully before you post. Check the spelling and grammar. Keep your lines to less than 70 characters. Don't post test messages (except to test groups) - wait until you have something to say. When posting humorous or sarcastic comments, it is conventional to append a {smiley}, but don't overuse them. Before asking a question, read the messages already in the group and read the group's {FAQ} if it has one. When you do post a question, follow it with "please reply by mail and I will post a summary if requested" and make sure you DO post a summary if requested, or if only a few people were interested, send them a summary by mail. This avoids umpteen people posting the same answer to the group and umpteen others posting "me too"s. If you believe someone has violated netiquette, send them a message by __private e-mail__, DO NOT post a follow-up to the news. And be polite, they may not realise their mistake, they might be a beginner or may not even have been responsible for the "crime" - their account may have been used by someone else or their address forged. Be proud of your postings but don't post just to see your name in pixels. Remember: your future employer may be reading. {Netiquette for Usenet Site Administrators (http://ancho.ucs.indiana.edu/FAQ/USAGN/index.html)}. {"net.acceptable" (http://marketing.tenagra.com/net-acceptable.html)}. [{Jargon File}] (1999-10-18)

Niddesa. In Pāli, "Exposition"; the eleventh book of the KHUDDAKANIKĀYA of the Pāli SUTTAPItAKA. It is a commentarial work on portions of the SUTTANIPĀTA and is divided into two parts, the CulANIDDESA ("Lesser Exposition") and the MAHĀNIDDESA ("Longer Exposition"). The former comments on the Khaggavisānasutta (cf. S. KHAdGAVIsĀnA) and Parāyanavagga, while the latter comments on the AttHAKAVAGGA. The book is among the earliest examples of the commentarial genre of Buddhist literature-so early, in fact, that it was included within the suttapitaka itself. See CulANIDDESA; MAHĀNIDDESA.

notice ::: n. --> The act of noting, remarking, or observing; observation by the senses or intellect; cognizance; note.
Intelligence, by whatever means communicated; knowledge given or received; means of knowledge; express notification; announcement; warning.
An announcement, often accompanied by comments or remarks; as, book notices; theatrical notices.
A writing communicating information or warning.


PaNcappakaranatthakathā. In Pāli, "Commentary on the Five Books," a voluminous Pāli commentary attributed to BUDDHAGHOSA on the last five books of the ABHIDHAMMAPItAKA: the DHĀTUKATHĀ, PUGGALAPANNATTI, KATHĀVATTHU, YAMAKA, and PAttHĀNA. Thus Buddhaghosa produced a commentary for each of the seven books of the Pāli abhidhammapitaka-the AttHASĀLINĪ, a commentary on the DHAMMASAnGAnI, the SAMMOHAVINODANĪ, a commentary on the VIBHAnGA, and this PANCAPPAKARAnAttHAKATHĀ. The section of the PaNcappakaranatthakathā that comments on the Dhātukathā-called the Dhātukathātthakathā-contains fourteen divisions and offers a detailed analysis of such doctrinal categories as ĀYATANA, SKANDHA, and DHĀTU. The commentary that deals with the Kathāvatthu is of particular interest, because it identifies the specific mainstream Buddhist schools that hold the various wrong types of wrong views that are refuted in the Kathāvatthu. The commentary begins with an account of the eighteen MAINSTREAM BUDDHIST SCHOOLS that arose prior to the third Buddhist council (see COUNCIL, THIRD), as well six additional schools. The section on the Patthāna-called the Patthānapakaranatthakathā-may have been written by a monk named Cullabuddhaghosa at the request of Buddhaghosa. Like other Pāli commentaries, this commentary also calls itself an "Exposition on the Highest Matter" (P. Paramatthadīpanī); however, this title is very rarely used for the work, since there is a commentary by DHAMMAPĀLA on the CARIYĀPItAKA written around the same time that is also called the Paramatthadīpanī.

philologize ::: v. i. --> To study, or make critical comments on, language.

post-colonial literature: This term refers to writings in the colonial language (e.g English, French etc) that derive from former colonies of Empires. These texts are sometimes written by natives of that colony after colonial times. Such literatureoften reveals and comments on, explicitly or implicitly, the cultural, political and social impact of colonisation. Examples of post-colonial writers include Achebe and Coetzee.

Public Hearing::: A formal meeting wherein EPA officials hear the public's views and concerns about an EPA action or proposal. EPA is required to consider such comments when evaluating its actions. Public hearings must be held upon request during the public comment period.



Rashi ::: (1040-1105) Acronym for Rabbi Solomon (Sholomo) ben Isaac, a great medieval sage of Troyes, France. He is the author of fundamental commentaries on the Talmud, and one of the most beloved and influential commentaries on the Bible. Characterized by great lucidity and pedagogy, his comments emphasized the plain, straightforward sense of a text.

real operating system ::: (operating system, abuse) The sort the speaker is used to. People from the BSDophilic academic community are likely to issue comments like System V? a *real* operating system?, and people from IBM object Unix? Why don't you use a *real* operating system?See holy wars, religious issues, proprietary, Get a real computer!.[Jargon File] (1997-03-12)

real operating system "operating system, abuse" The sort the speaker is used to. People from the {BSD}ophilic academic community are likely to issue comments like "{System V}? Why don't you use a *real* operating system?", people from the commercial/industrial {Unix} sector are known to complain "BSD? Why don't you use a *real* operating system?", and people from {IBM} object "Unix? Why don't you use a *real* operating system?" See {holy wars}, {religious issues}, {proprietary}, {Get a real computer!}. [{Jargon File}] (1997-03-12)

Real Programmer "job, humour" (From the book "Real Men Don't Eat Quiche") A variety of hacker possessed of a flippant attitude toward complexity that is arrogant even when justified by experience. The archetypal "Real Programmer" likes to program on the {bare metal} and is very good at it, remembers the binary {op codes} for every machine he has ever programmed, thinks that {high-level languages} are sissy, and uses a {debugger} to edit his code because full-screen editors are for wimps. Real Programmers aren't satisfied with code that hasn't been {bum}med into a state of {tense}ness just short of rupture. Real Programmers never use {comments} or write {documentation}: "If it was hard to write", says the Real Programmer, "it should be hard to understand." Real Programmers can make machines do things that were never in their spec sheets; in fact, they are seldom really happy unless doing so. A Real Programmer's code can awe with its fiendish brilliance, even as its crockishness appals. Real Programmers live on junk food and coffee, hang line-printer art on their walls, and terrify the crap out of other programmers - because someday, somebody else might have to try to understand their code in order to change it. Their successors generally consider it a {Good Thing} that there aren't many Real Programmers around any more. For a famous (and somewhat more positive) portrait of a Real Programmer, see "{The Story of Mel}". The term itself was popularised by a 1983 Datamation article "{Real Programmers Don't Use Pascal}" by Ed Post, still circulating on {Usenet} and Internet in on-line form. [{Jargon File}] (1997-08-29)

Real Programmer ::: (job, humour) (From the book Real Men Don't Eat Quiche) A variety of hacker possessed of a flippant attitude toward complexity that is arrogant even wimps. Real Programmers aren't satisfied with code that hasn't been bummed into a state of tenseness just short of rupture.Real Programmers never use comments or write documentation: If it was hard to write, says the Real Programmer, it should be hard to understand. Real fact, they are seldom really happy unless doing so. A Real Programmer's code can awe with its fiendish brilliance, even as its crockishness appals.Real Programmers live on junk food and coffee, hang line-printer art on their walls, and terrify the crap out of other programmers - because someday, somebody successors generally consider it a Good Thing that there aren't many Real Programmers around any more.For a famous (and somewhat more positive) portrait of a Real Programmer, see The Story of Mel. The term itself was popularised by a 1983 Datamation article Real Programmers Don't Use Pascal by Ed Post, still circulating on Usenet and Internet in on-line form.[Jargon File] (1997-08-29)

Real Programmers Don't Use Pascal ::: (humour) Back in the good old days - the Golden Era of computers, it was easy to separate the men from the boys (sometimes called Real Men and out that Real Men don't relate to anything, and aren't afraid of being impersonal.)But, as usual, times change. We are faced today with a world in which little old ladies can get computers in their microwave ovens, 12-year-old kids can blow danger of becoming extinct, of being replaced by high-school students with TRASH-80s.There is a clear need to point out the differences between the typical high-school junior Pac-Man player and a Real Programmer. If this difference is why it would be a mistake to replace the Real Programmers on their staff with 12-year-old Pac-Man players (at a considerable salary savings).LANGUAGESThe easiest way to tell a Real Programmer from the crowd is by the programming language he (or she) uses. Real Programmers use Fortran. Quiche Eaters use need all these abstract concepts to get their jobs done - they are perfectly happy with a keypunch, a Fortran IV compiler, and a beer.Real Programmers do List Processing in Fortran.Real Programmers do String Manipulation in Fortran.Real Programmers do Accounting (if they do it at all) in Fortran.Real Programmers do Artificial Intelligence programs in Fortran.If you can't do it in Fortran, do it in assembly language. If you can't do it in assembly language, it isn't worth doing.STRUCTURED PROGRAMMINGThe academics in computer science have gotten into the structured programming rut over the past several years. They claim that programs are more easily in the world won't help you solve a problem like that - it takes actual talent. Some quick observations on Real Programmers and Structured Programming:Real Programmers aren't afraid to use GOTOs.Real Programmers can write five-page-long DO loops without getting confused.Real Programmers like Arithmetic IF statements - they make the code more interesting.Real Programmers write self-modifying code, especially if they can save 20 nanoseconds in the middle of a tight loop.Real Programmers don't need comments - the code is obvious.Since Fortran doesn't have a structured IF, REPEAT ... UNTIL, or CASE statement, Real Programmers don't have to worry about not using them. Besides, they can be simulated when necessary using assigned GOTOs.Data Structures have also gotten a lot of press lately. Abstract Data Types, Structures, Pointers, Lists, and Strings have become popular in certain circles. Languages, as we all know, have implicit typing based on the first letter of the (six character) variable name.OPERATING SYSTEMSWhat kind of operating system is used by a Real Programmer? CP/M? God forbid - CP/M, after all, is basically a toy operating system. Even little old ladies and grade school students can understand and use CP/M.Unix is a lot more complicated of course - the typical Unix hacker never can remember what the PRINT command is called this week - but when it gets right systems: they send jokes around the world on UUCP-net and write adventure games and research papers.No, your Real Programmer uses OS 370. A good programmer can find and understand the description of the IJK305I error he just got in his JCL manual. A great outstanding programmer can find bugs buried in a 6 megabyte core dump without using a hex calculator. (I have actually seen this done.)OS is a truly remarkable operating system. It's possible to destroy days of work with a single misplaced space, so alertness in the programming staff is people claim there is a Time Sharing system that runs on OS 370, but after careful study I have come to the conclusion that they were mistaken.PROGRAMMING TOOLSWhat kind of tools does a Real Programmer use? In theory, a Real Programmer could run his programs by keying them into the front panel of the computer. Back the first operating system for the CDC7600 in on the front panel from memory when it was first powered on. Seymore, needless to say, is a Real Programmer.One of my favorite Real Programmers was a systems programmer for Texas Instruments. One day he got a long distance call from a user whose system had includes a keypunch and lineprinter in his toolkit, he can get along with just a front panel and a telephone in emergencies.In some companies, text editing no longer consists of ten engineers standing in line to use an 029 keypunch. In fact, the building I work in doesn't contain a system is called SmallTalk, and would certainly not talk to the computer with a mouse.Some of the concepts in these Xerox editors have been incorporated into editors running on more reasonably named operating systems - Emacs and VI being two. The the Real Programmer wants a you asked for it, you got it text editor - complicated, cryptic, powerful, unforgiving, dangerous. TECO, to be precise.It has been observed that a TECO command sequence more closely resembles transmission line noise than readable text [4]. One of the more entertaining will probably destroy your program, or even worse - introduce subtle and mysterious bugs in a once working subroutine.For this reason, Real Programmers are reluctant to actually edit a program that is close to working. They find it much easier to just patch the binary object Programmer to do the job - no Quiche Eating structured programmer would even know where to start. This is called job security.Some programming tools NOT used by Real Programmers:Fortran preprocessors like MORTRAN and RATFOR. The Cuisinarts of programming - great for making Quiche. See comments above on structured programming.Source language debuggers. Real Programmers can read core dumps.Compilers with array bounds checking. They stifle creativity, destroy most of the interesting uses for EQUIVALENCE, and make it impossible to modify the operating system code with negative subscripts. Worst of all, bounds checking is inefficient.Source code maintenance systems. A Real Programmer keeps his code locked up in a card file, because it implies that its owner cannot leave his important programs unguarded [5].THE REAL PROGRAMMER AT WORKWhere does the typical Real Programmer work? What kind of programs are worthy of the efforts of so talented an individual? You can be sure that no Real or sorting mailing lists for People magazine. A Real Programmer wants tasks of earth-shaking importance (literally!).Real Programmers work for Los Alamos National Laboratory, writing atomic bomb simulations to run on Cray I supercomputers.Real Programmers work for the National Security Agency, decoding Russian transmissions.It was largely due to the efforts of thousands of Real Programmers working for NASA that our boys got to the moon and back before the Russkies.Real Programmers are at work for Boeing designing the operating systems for cruise missiles.Some of the most awesome Real Programmers of all work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California. Many of them know the entire operating system of the bytes of unused memory in a Voyager spacecraft that searched for, located, and photographed a new moon of Jupiter.The current plan for the Galileo spacecraft is to use a gravity assist trajectory past Mars on the way to Jupiter. This trajectory passes within 80 +/-3 kilometers of the surface of Mars. Nobody is going to trust a Pascal program (or a Pascal programmer) for navigation to these tolerances.As you can tell, many of the world's Real Programmers work for the U.S. Government - mainly the Defense Department. This is as it should be. Recently, programmers and Quiche Eaters alike.) Besides, the determined Real Programmer can write Fortran programs in any language.The Real Programmer might compromise his principles and work on something slightly more trivial than the destruction of life as we know it, providing Fortran, so there are a fair number of people doing graphics in order to avoid having to write COBOL programs.THE REAL PROGRAMMER AT PLAYGenerally, the Real Programmer plays the same way he works - with computers. He is constantly amazed that his employer actually pays him to do what he would be breath of fresh air and a beer or two. Some tips on recognizing Real Programmers away from the computer room:At a party, the Real Programmers are the ones in the corner talking about operating system security and how to get around it.At a football game, the Real Programmer is the one comparing the plays against his simulations printed on 11 by 14 fanfold paper.At the beach, the Real Programmer is the one drawing flowcharts in the sand.At a funeral, the Real Programmer is the one saying Poor George, he almost had the sort routine working before the coronary.In a grocery store, the Real Programmer is the one who insists on running the cans past the laser checkout scanner himself, because he never could trust keypunch operators to get it right the first time.THE REAL PROGRAMMER'S NATURAL HABITATWhat sort of environment does the Real Programmer function best in? This is an important question for the managers of Real Programmers. Considering the amount of money it costs to keep one on the staff, it's best to put him (or her) in an environment where he can get his work done.The typical Real Programmer lives in front of a computer terminal. Surrounding this terminal are:Listings of all programs the Real Programmer has ever worked on, piled in roughly chronological order on every flat surface in the office.Some half-dozen or so partly filled cups of cold coffee. Occasionally, there will be cigarette butts floating in the coffee. In some cases, the cups will contain Orange Crush.Unless he is very good, there will be copies of the OS JCL manual and the Principles of Operation open to some particularly interesting pages.Taped to the wall is a line-printer Snoopy calendar for the year 1969.Strewn about the floor are several wrappers for peanut butter filled cheese bars - the type that are made pre-stale at the bakery so they can't get any worse while waiting in the vending machine.Hiding in the top left-hand drawer of the desk is a stash of double-stuff Oreos for special occasions.Underneath the Oreos is a flowcharting template, left there by the previous occupant of the office. (Real Programmers write programs, not documentation. Leave that to the maintenance people.)The Real Programmer is capable of working 30, 40, even 50 hours at a stretch, under intense pressure. In fact, he prefers it that way. Bad response time project done on time, but creates a convenient excuse for not doing the documentation. In general:No Real Programmer works 9 to 5 (unless it's the ones at night).Real Programmers don't wear neckties.Real Programmers don't wear high-heeled shoes.Real Programmers arrive at work in time for lunch [9].A Real Programmer might or might not know his wife's name. He does, however, know the entire ASCII (or EBCDIC) code table.Real Programmers don't know how to cook. Grocery stores aren't open at three in the morning. Real Programmers survive on Twinkies and coffee.THE FUTUREWhat of the future? It is a matter of some concern to Real Programmers that the latest generation of computer programmers are not being brought up with the same ever learning Fortran! Are we destined to become an industry of Unix hackers and Pascal programmers?From my experience, I can only report that the future is bright for Real Programmers everywhere. Neither OS 370 nor Fortran show any signs of dying out, one of them has a way of converting itself back into a Fortran 66 compiler at the drop of an option card - to compile DO loops like God meant them to be.Even Unix might not be as bad on Real Programmers as it once was. The latest release of Unix has the potential of an operating system worthy of any Real in - like having the best parts of Fortran and assembly language in one place. (Not to mention some of the more creative uses for

Real Programmers Don't Use Pascal "humour" Back in the good old days - the "Golden Era" of computers, it was easy to separate the men from the boys (sometimes called "Real Men" and "Quiche Eaters" in the literature). During this period, the Real Men were the ones that understood computer programming, and the Quiche Eaters were the ones that didn't. A real computer programmer said things like "DO 10 I=1,10" and "ABEND" (they actually talked in capital letters, you understand), and the rest of the world said things like "computers are too complicated for me" and "I can't relate to computers - they're so impersonal". (A previous work [1] points out that Real Men don't "relate" to anything, and aren't afraid of being impersonal.) But, as usual, times change. We are faced today with a world in which little old ladies can get computers in their microwave ovens, 12-year-old kids can blow Real Men out of the water playing Asteroids and Pac-Man, and anyone can buy and even understand their very own Personal Computer. The Real Programmer is in danger of becoming extinct, of being replaced by high-school students with {TRASH-80s}. There is a clear need to point out the differences between the typical high-school junior Pac-Man player and a Real Programmer. If this difference is made clear, it will give these kids something to aspire to -- a role model, a Father Figure. It will also help explain to the employers of Real Programmers why it would be a mistake to replace the Real Programmers on their staff with 12-year-old Pac-Man players (at a considerable salary savings). LANGUAGES The easiest way to tell a Real Programmer from the crowd is by the programming language he (or she) uses. Real Programmers use {Fortran}. Quiche Eaters use {Pascal}. Nicklaus Wirth, the designer of Pascal, gave a talk once at which he was asked how to pronounce his name. He replied, "You can either call me by name, pronouncing it 'Veert', or call me by value, 'Worth'." One can tell immediately from this comment that Nicklaus Wirth is a Quiche Eater. The only parameter passing mechanism endorsed by Real Programmers is call-by-value-return, as implemented in the {IBM 370} {Fortran-G} and H compilers. Real programmers don't need all these abstract concepts to get their jobs done - they are perfectly happy with a {keypunch}, a {Fortran IV} {compiler}, and a beer. Real Programmers do List Processing in Fortran. Real Programmers do String Manipulation in Fortran. Real Programmers do Accounting (if they do it at all) in Fortran. Real Programmers do {Artificial Intelligence} programs in Fortran. If you can't do it in Fortran, do it in {assembly language}. If you can't do it in assembly language, it isn't worth doing. STRUCTURED PROGRAMMING The academics in computer science have gotten into the "structured programming" rut over the past several years. They claim that programs are more easily understood if the programmer uses some special language constructs and techniques. They don't all agree on exactly which constructs, of course, and the examples they use to show their particular point of view invariably fit on a single page of some obscure journal or another - clearly not enough of an example to convince anyone. When I got out of school, I thought I was the best programmer in the world. I could write an unbeatable tic-tac-toe program, use five different computer languages, and create 1000-line programs that WORKED. (Really!) Then I got out into the Real World. My first task in the Real World was to read and understand a 200,000-line Fortran program, then speed it up by a factor of two. Any Real Programmer will tell you that all the Structured Coding in the world won't help you solve a problem like that - it takes actual talent. Some quick observations on Real Programmers and Structured Programming: Real Programmers aren't afraid to use {GOTOs}. Real Programmers can write five-page-long DO loops without getting confused. Real Programmers like Arithmetic IF statements - they make the code more interesting. Real Programmers write self-modifying code, especially if they can save 20 {nanoseconds} in the middle of a tight loop. Real Programmers don't need comments - the code is obvious. Since Fortran doesn't have a structured IF, REPEAT ... UNTIL, or CASE statement, Real Programmers don't have to worry about not using them. Besides, they can be simulated when necessary using {assigned GOTOs}. Data Structures have also gotten a lot of press lately. Abstract Data Types, Structures, Pointers, Lists, and Strings have become popular in certain circles. Wirth (the above-mentioned Quiche Eater) actually wrote an entire book [2] contending that you could write a program based on data structures, instead of the other way around. As all Real Programmers know, the only useful data structure is the Array. Strings, lists, structures, sets - these are all special cases of arrays and can be treated that way just as easily without messing up your programing language with all sorts of complications. The worst thing about fancy data types is that you have to declare them, and Real Programming Languages, as we all know, have implicit typing based on the first letter of the (six character) variable name. OPERATING SYSTEMS What kind of operating system is used by a Real Programmer? CP/M? God forbid - CP/M, after all, is basically a toy operating system. Even little old ladies and grade school students can understand and use CP/M. Unix is a lot more complicated of course - the typical Unix hacker never can remember what the PRINT command is called this week - but when it gets right down to it, Unix is a glorified video game. People don't do Serious Work on Unix systems: they send jokes around the world on {UUCP}-net and write adventure games and research papers. No, your Real Programmer uses OS 370. A good programmer can find and understand the description of the IJK305I error he just got in his JCL manual. A great programmer can write JCL without referring to the manual at all. A truly outstanding programmer can find bugs buried in a 6 megabyte {core dump} without using a hex calculator. (I have actually seen this done.) OS is a truly remarkable operating system. It's possible to destroy days of work with a single misplaced space, so alertness in the programming staff is encouraged. The best way to approach the system is through a keypunch. Some people claim there is a Time Sharing system that runs on OS 370, but after careful study I have come to the conclusion that they were mistaken. PROGRAMMING TOOLS What kind of tools does a Real Programmer use? In theory, a Real Programmer could run his programs by keying them into the front panel of the computer. Back in the days when computers had front panels, this was actually done occasionally. Your typical Real Programmer knew the entire bootstrap loader by memory in hex, and toggled it in whenever it got destroyed by his program. (Back then, memory was memory - it didn't go away when the power went off. Today, memory either forgets things when you don't want it to, or remembers things long after they're better forgotten.) Legend has it that {Seymore Cray}, inventor of the Cray I supercomputer and most of Control Data's computers, actually toggled the first operating system for the CDC7600 in on the front panel from memory when it was first powered on. Seymore, needless to say, is a Real Programmer. One of my favorite Real Programmers was a systems programmer for Texas Instruments. One day he got a long distance call from a user whose system had crashed in the middle of saving some important work. Jim was able to repair the damage over the phone, getting the user to toggle in disk I/O instructions at the front panel, repairing system tables in hex, reading register contents back over the phone. The moral of this story: while a Real Programmer usually includes a keypunch and lineprinter in his toolkit, he can get along with just a front panel and a telephone in emergencies. In some companies, text editing no longer consists of ten engineers standing in line to use an 029 keypunch. In fact, the building I work in doesn't contain a single keypunch. The Real Programmer in this situation has to do his work with a "text editor" program. Most systems supply several text editors to select from, and the Real Programmer must be careful to pick one that reflects his personal style. Many people believe that the best text editors in the world were written at Xerox Palo Alto Research Center for use on their Alto and Dorado computers [3]. Unfortunately, no Real Programmer would ever use a computer whose operating system is called SmallTalk, and would certainly not talk to the computer with a mouse. Some of the concepts in these Xerox editors have been incorporated into editors running on more reasonably named operating systems - {Emacs} and {VI} being two. The problem with these editors is that Real Programmers consider "what you see is what you get" to be just as bad a concept in Text Editors as it is in women. No the Real Programmer wants a "you asked for it, you got it" text editor - complicated, cryptic, powerful, unforgiving, dangerous. TECO, to be precise. It has been observed that a TECO command sequence more closely resembles transmission line noise than readable text [4]. One of the more entertaining games to play with TECO is to type your name in as a command line and try to guess what it does. Just about any possible typing error while talking with TECO will probably destroy your program, or even worse - introduce subtle and mysterious bugs in a once working subroutine. For this reason, Real Programmers are reluctant to actually edit a program that is close to working. They find it much easier to just patch the binary {object code} directly, using a wonderful program called SUPERZAP (or its equivalent on non-IBM machines). This works so well that many working programs on IBM systems bear no relation to the original Fortran code. In many cases, the original source code is no longer available. When it comes time to fix a program like this, no manager would even think of sending anything less than a Real Programmer to do the job - no Quiche Eating structured programmer would even know where to start. This is called "job security". Some programming tools NOT used by Real Programmers: Fortran preprocessors like {MORTRAN} and {RATFOR}. The Cuisinarts of programming - great for making Quiche. See comments above on structured programming. Source language debuggers. Real Programmers can read core dumps. Compilers with array bounds checking. They stifle creativity, destroy most of the interesting uses for EQUIVALENCE, and make it impossible to modify the operating system code with negative subscripts. Worst of all, bounds checking is inefficient. Source code maintenance systems. A Real Programmer keeps his code locked up in a card file, because it implies that its owner cannot leave his important programs unguarded [5]. THE REAL PROGRAMMER AT WORK Where does the typical Real Programmer work? What kind of programs are worthy of the efforts of so talented an individual? You can be sure that no Real Programmer would be caught dead writing accounts-receivable programs in {COBOL}, or sorting {mailing lists} for People magazine. A Real Programmer wants tasks of earth-shaking importance (literally!). Real Programmers work for Los Alamos National Laboratory, writing atomic bomb simulations to run on Cray I supercomputers. Real Programmers work for the National Security Agency, decoding Russian transmissions. It was largely due to the efforts of thousands of Real Programmers working for NASA that our boys got to the moon and back before the Russkies. Real Programmers are at work for Boeing designing the operating systems for cruise missiles. Some of the most awesome Real Programmers of all work at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California. Many of them know the entire operating system of the Pioneer and Voyager spacecraft by heart. With a combination of large ground-based Fortran programs and small spacecraft-based assembly language programs, they are able to do incredible feats of navigation and improvisation - hitting ten-kilometer wide windows at Saturn after six years in space, repairing or bypassing damaged sensor platforms, radios, and batteries. Allegedly, one Real Programmer managed to tuck a pattern-matching program into a few hundred bytes of unused memory in a Voyager spacecraft that searched for, located, and photographed a new moon of Jupiter. The current plan for the Galileo spacecraft is to use a gravity assist trajectory past Mars on the way to Jupiter. This trajectory passes within 80 +/-3 kilometers of the surface of Mars. Nobody is going to trust a Pascal program (or a Pascal programmer) for navigation to these tolerances. As you can tell, many of the world's Real Programmers work for the U.S. Government - mainly the Defense Department. This is as it should be. Recently, however, a black cloud has formed on the Real Programmer horizon. It seems that some highly placed Quiche Eaters at the Defense Department decided that all Defense programs should be written in some grand unified language called "ADA" ((C), DoD). For a while, it seemed that ADA was destined to become a language that went against all the precepts of Real Programming - a language with structure, a language with data types, {strong typing}, and semicolons. In short, a language designed to cripple the creativity of the typical Real Programmer. Fortunately, the language adopted by DoD has enough interesting features to make it approachable -- it's incredibly complex, includes methods for messing with the operating system and rearranging memory, and Edsgar Dijkstra doesn't like it [6]. (Dijkstra, as I'm sure you know, was the author of "GoTos Considered Harmful" - a landmark work in programming methodology, applauded by Pascal programmers and Quiche Eaters alike.) Besides, the determined Real Programmer can write Fortran programs in any language. The Real Programmer might compromise his principles and work on something slightly more trivial than the destruction of life as we know it, providing there's enough money in it. There are several Real Programmers building video games at Atari, for example. (But not playing them - a Real Programmer knows how to beat the machine every time: no challenge in that.) Everyone working at LucasFilm is a Real Programmer. (It would be crazy to turn down the money of fifty million Star Trek fans.) The proportion of Real Programmers in Computer Graphics is somewhat lower than the norm, mostly because nobody has found a use for computer graphics yet. On the other hand, all computer graphics is done in Fortran, so there are a fair number of people doing graphics in order to avoid having to write COBOL programs. THE REAL PROGRAMMER AT PLAY Generally, the Real Programmer plays the same way he works - with computers. He is constantly amazed that his employer actually pays him to do what he would be doing for fun anyway (although he is careful not to express this opinion out loud). Occasionally, the Real Programmer does step out of the office for a breath of fresh air and a beer or two. Some tips on recognizing Real Programmers away from the computer room: At a party, the Real Programmers are the ones in the corner talking about operating system security and how to get around it. At a football game, the Real Programmer is the one comparing the plays against his simulations printed on 11 by 14 fanfold paper. At the beach, the Real Programmer is the one drawing flowcharts in the sand. At a funeral, the Real Programmer is the one saying "Poor George, he almost had the sort routine working before the coronary." In a grocery store, the Real Programmer is the one who insists on running the cans past the laser checkout scanner himself, because he never could trust keypunch operators to get it right the first time. THE REAL PROGRAMMER'S NATURAL HABITAT What sort of environment does the Real Programmer function best in? This is an important question for the managers of Real Programmers. Considering the amount of money it costs to keep one on the staff, it's best to put him (or her) in an environment where he can get his work done. The typical Real Programmer lives in front of a computer terminal. Surrounding this terminal are: Listings of all programs the Real Programmer has ever worked on, piled in roughly chronological order on every flat surface in the office. Some half-dozen or so partly filled cups of cold coffee. Occasionally, there will be cigarette butts floating in the coffee. In some cases, the cups will contain Orange Crush. Unless he is very good, there will be copies of the OS JCL manual and the Principles of Operation open to some particularly interesting pages. Taped to the wall is a line-printer Snoopy calendar for the year 1969. Strewn about the floor are several wrappers for peanut butter filled cheese bars - the type that are made pre-stale at the bakery so they can't get any worse while waiting in the vending machine. Hiding in the top left-hand drawer of the desk is a stash of double-stuff Oreos for special occasions. Underneath the Oreos is a flowcharting template, left there by the previous occupant of the office. (Real Programmers write programs, not documentation. Leave that to the maintenance people.) The Real Programmer is capable of working 30, 40, even 50 hours at a stretch, under intense pressure. In fact, he prefers it that way. Bad response time doesn't bother the Real Programmer - it gives him a chance to catch a little sleep between compiles. If there is not enough schedule pressure on the Real Programmer, he tends to make things more challenging by working on some small but interesting part of the problem for the first nine weeks, then finishing the rest in the last week, in two or three 50-hour marathons. This not only impresses the hell out of his manager, who was despairing of ever getting the project done on time, but creates a convenient excuse for not doing the documentation. In general: No Real Programmer works 9 to 5 (unless it's the ones at night). Real Programmers don't wear neckties. Real Programmers don't wear high-heeled shoes. Real Programmers arrive at work in time for lunch [9]. A Real Programmer might or might not know his wife's name. He does, however, know the entire {ASCII} (or EBCDIC) code table. Real Programmers don't know how to cook. Grocery stores aren't open at three in the morning. Real Programmers survive on Twinkies and coffee. THE FUTURE What of the future? It is a matter of some concern to Real Programmers that the latest generation of computer programmers are not being brought up with the same outlook on life as their elders. Many of them have never seen a computer with a front panel. Hardly anyone graduating from school these days can do hex arithmetic without a calculator. College graduates these days are soft - protected from the realities of programming by source level debuggers, text editors that count parentheses, and "user friendly" operating systems. Worst of all, some of these alleged "computer scientists" manage to get degrees without ever learning Fortran! Are we destined to become an industry of Unix hackers and Pascal programmers? From my experience, I can only report that the future is bright for Real Programmers everywhere. Neither OS 370 nor Fortran show any signs of dying out, despite all the efforts of Pascal programmers the world over. Even more subtle tricks, like adding structured coding constructs to Fortran have failed. Oh sure, some computer vendors have come out with Fortran 77 compilers, but every one of them has a way of converting itself back into a Fortran 66 compiler at the drop of an option card - to compile DO loops like God meant them to be. Even Unix might not be as bad on Real Programmers as it once was. The latest release of Unix has the potential of an operating system worthy of any Real Programmer - two different and subtly incompatible user interfaces, an arcane and complicated teletype driver, virtual memory. If you ignore the fact that it's "structured", even 'C' programming can be appreciated by the Real Programmer: after all, there's no type checking, variable names are seven (ten? eight?) characters long, and the added bonus of the Pointer data type is thrown in - like having the best parts of Fortran and assembly language in one place. (Not to mention some of the more creative uses for

refuctoring "humour, programming" Taking a well-designed piece of {code} and, through a series of small, reversible changes, making it completely unmaintainable by anyone except yourself. The term is a humourous play on the term {refactoring} and was coined by Jason Gorman in a pub in 2002. Refuctoring techniques include: Using Pig Latin as a naming convention. Stating The Bleeding Obvious - writing comments that paraphrase the code (e.g., "declare an integer called I with an initial value of zero"). Module Gravity Well - adding all new code to the biggest module. Unique Modeling Language - inventing your own visual notation. Treasure Hunt - Writing code consisting mostly of references to other code and documents that reference other documents. Rainy Day Module - writing spare code just in case somebody needs it later. {Waterfall 2006 presentation (http://www.waterfall2006.com/gorman.html)}. (2013-12-01)

Regarding the dualistic cosmic system of the Zoroastrians — good and evil — Blavatsky comments: “No more philosophically profound, no grander or more graphic and suggestive type exists among the allegories of the World-religions than that of the two Brother-Powers of the Mazdean religion, called Ahura-Mazda and Angra-Mainyu, better known in their modernized form of Ormuzd and Ahriman. Of these two emanations, ‘Sons of Boundless Time’ — Zeruana-Akarana — itself issued from the Supreme and Unknowable Principle, the one is the embodiment of ‘Good Thought’ (Vohu-Mano), the other of ‘Evil Thought’ (Ako-Mano). The ‘King of Light’ or Ahura-Mazda, emanates from Primordial Light and forms or creates by means of the ‘Word,’ Honover (Ahuna-Vairya), a pure and holy world. But Angra-Mainyu, though born as pure as his elder brother, becomes jealous of him, and mars everything in the Universe, as on the earth, creating Sin and Evil wherever he goes.

Request For Comments "standard" (RFC) One of a series, begun in 1969, of numbered {Internet} informational documents and {standards} widely followed by commercial software and {freeware} in the {Internet} and {Unix} communities. Few RFCs are standards but all Internet standards are recorded in RFCs. Perhaps the single most influential RFC has been {RFC 822}, the Internet {electronic mail} format standard. The RFCs are unusual in that they are floated by technical experts acting on their own initiative and reviewed by the Internet at large, rather than formally promulgated through an institution such as {ANSI}. For this reason, they remain known as RFCs even once adopted as standards. The RFC tradition of pragmatic, experience-driven, after-the-fact standard writing done by individuals or small working groups has important advantages over the more formal, committee-driven process typical of {ANSI} or {ISO}. Emblematic of some of these advantages is the existence of a flourishing tradition of "joke" RFCs; usually at least one a year is published, usually on April 1st. Well-known joke RFCs have included 527 ("ARPAWOCKY", R. Merryman, UCSD; 22 June 1973), 748 ("Telnet Randomly-Lose Option", Mark R. Crispin; 1 April 1978), and 1149 ("A Standard for the Transmission of IP Datagrams on Avian Carriers", D. Waitzman, BBN STC; 1 April 1990). The first was a Lewis Carroll pastiche; the second a parody of the {TCP/IP} documentation style, and the third a deadpan skewering of standards-document legalese, describing protocols for transmitting Internet data packets by carrier pigeon. The RFCs are most remarkable for how well they work - they manage to have neither the ambiguities that are usually rife in informal specifications, nor the committee-perpetrated {misfeatures} that often haunt formal standards, and they define a network that has grown to truly worldwide proportions. {rfc.net (http://rfc.net/)}. {W3 (http://w3.org/hypertext/DataSources/Archives/RFC_sites.html)}. {JANET UK FTP (ftp://nic.ja.net/pub/newsfiles/JIPS/rfc)}. {Imperial College, UK FTP (ftp://src.doc.ic.ac.uk/rfc/)}. {Nexor UK (http://nexor.com/public/rfc/index/rfc.html)}. {Ohio State U (http://cis.ohio-state.edu/hypertext/faq/usenet/top.html)}. See also {For Your Information}, {STD}. (1997-11-10)

Request For Comments ::: (standard) (RFC) One of a series, begun in 1969, of numbered Internet informational documents and standards widely followed by commercial software and Internet standards are recorded in RFCs. Perhaps the single most influential RFC has been RFC 822, the Internet electronic mail format standard.The RFCs are unusual in that they are floated by technical experts acting on their own initiative and reviewed by the Internet at large, rather than formally promulgated through an institution such as ANSI. For this reason, they remain known as RFCs even once adopted as standards.The RFC tradition of pragmatic, experience-driven, after-the-fact standard writing done by individuals or small working groups has important advantages over the more formal, committee-driven process typical of ANSI or ISO.Emblematic of some of these advantages is the existence of a flourishing tradition of joke RFCs; usually at least one a year is published, usually on deadpan skewering of standards-document legalese, describing protocols for transmitting Internet data packets by carrier pigeon.The RFCs are most remarkable for how well they work - they manage to have neither the ambiguities that are usually rife in informal specifications, nor the committee-perpetrated misfeatures that often haunt formal standards, and they define a network that has grown to truly worldwide proportions. . . . .See also For Your Information, STD. (1997-11-10)

RFC {Request For Comments}

Shinran. (親鸞) (1173-1262). Japanese priest who is considered the founder of the JoDO SHINSHu, or "True PURE LAND School." After the loss of his parents, Shinran was ordained at age nine by the TENDAISHu monk Jien (1155-1225) and began his studies at HIEIZAN. There, he regularly practiced "perpetual nenbutsu" (J. nenbutsu; C. NIANFO), ninety-day retreats in which one circumambulated a statue of the buddha AMITĀBHA while reciting the nenbutsu. In 1201, he left Mt. Hiei and became the disciple of HoNEN, an influential monk who emphasized nenbutsu recitation. Shinran was allowed to copy Honen's most influential (and at that time still unpublished) work, the SENCHAKUSHu. When Honen was exiled to Tosa in 1207, Shinran was defrocked by the government and exiled to Echigo, receiving a pardon four years later. He did not see Honen again. Shinran would become a popular teacher of nenbutsu practice among the common people, marrying (his wife Eshinni would later write important letters on pure land practice) and raising a family (the lineage of the True Pure Land sect is traced through his descendants), although he famously declared that he was "neither a monk nor a layman" (hiso hizoku). While claiming simply to be transmitting Honen's teachings, Shinran made important revisions and elaborations of the pure land doctrine that he had learned from Honen. In 1214, he moved to the Kanto region, where he took a vow to recite the three pure land sutras (J. Jodo sanbukyo; C. JINGTU SANBU JING) one thousand times. However, he soon stopped the practice, declaring it to be futile. It is said that from this experience he developed his notion of shinjin. Although literally translated as "the mind of faith," as Shinran uses the term shinjin might best be glossed as the buddha-mind realized in the entrusting of oneself to Amitābha's name and vow. Shinran often would contrast self-power (JIRIKI) and other-power (TARIKI), with the former referring to the always futile attempts to secure one's own welfare through traditional practices such as mastering the six perfections (PĀRAMITĀ) of the bodhisattva path to buddhahood, and the latter referring to the sole source of salvation, the power of Amitābha's name and his vow. Thus, Shinran regarded the Mahāyāna practice of dedicating merit to the welfare of others to be self-power; the only dedication of merit that was important was that made by the bodhisattva DHARMĀKARA, who vowed to become the buddha Amitābha and establish his pure land of SUKHĀVATĪ for those who called his name. He regarded the deathbed practices meant to bring about birth in the pure land to be self-power; he regarded multiple recitations of NAMU AMIDABUTSU to be self-power. Shinran refers often to the single utterance that assures rebirth in the pure land. This utterance need not be audible, indeed not even voluntary, but is instead heard in the heart as a consequence of the "single thought-moment" of shinjin, received through Amitābha's grace. This salvation has nothing to do with whether one is a monk or layperson, man or woman, saint or sinner, learned or ignorant. He said that if even a good man can be reborn in the pure land, then how much more easily can an evil man; this is because the good man remains attached to the illusion that his virtuous deeds will somehow bring about his salvation, while the evil man has abandoned this conceit. Whereas Honen sought to identify the benefits of the nenbutsu in contrast to other teachings of the day, Shinran sought to reinterpret Buddhist doctrine and practice in light of Amitābha's vow. For example, the important Mahāyāna doctrine of the EKAYĀNA, or "one vehicle," the buddha vehicle whereby all sentient beings will be enabled to follow the bodhisattva path to buddhahood, is interpreted by Shinran to be nothing other than Amitābha's vow. Indeed, the sole purpose of sĀKYAMUNI Buddha's appearance in the world was to proclaim the existence of Amitābha's vow. These doctrines are set forth in Shinran's magnum opus, an anthology of passages from Buddhist scriptures, intermixed with his own comments and arranged topically, entitled KYoGYo SHINSHo ("Teaching, Practice, and Realization of the Pure Land Way"), a work that he began in 1224 and continued to expand and revise over the next three decades. Shinran did not consider himself to be a master and did not establish a formal school, leading to problems of authority among his followers when he was absent. After he left Kanto for Kyoto, for example, problems arose among his followers in Kanto, leading Shinran to write a series of letters, later collected as TANNISHo ("Lamenting the Deviations").

social network "communications" Any {website} designed to allow multiple users to publish content themselves. The information may be on any subject and may be for consumption by (potential) friends, mates, employers, employees, etc. The sites typically allow users to create a "profile" describing themselves and to exchange public or private messages and list other users or groups they are connected to in some way. There may be editorial content or the site may be entirely user-driven. Content may include text, images (e.g. {(http://flickr.com/)}), video (e.g. {(http://youtube.com/)}) or any other media. Social networks on the the web are a natural extension of {mailing lists} and {buletin boards}. They are related to {wikis} like {(http://wikipedia.org/)} but typically do not allow users to modify content once it has been submitted, though usually you can publish comments on others' submissions. Different sites have different emphasis. For example, {(http://friendsreunited.co.uk/)} (one of the earliest such sites) focusses on listing former acquaintances; {(http://myspace.com/)} is music-oriented; {(http://linkedin.com/)} aims to connect business partners; {(http://del.icio.us/)}, {(http://stumbleupon.com/)} and {(http://digg.com/)} are for exchanging links to favouirite websites. There are many more. Sometimes the social aspects are a side-effect of bringing together people with shared interests, e.g. {(http://slashdot.org/)} (IT), other times they become more important than the original purpose, e.g. {(http://worldofwarcraft.com/)} (fantasy gaming). (2006-12-05)

SPEC CINT92 "benchmark" A {benchmark} suite from {SPEC}, which contains six benchmarks in {C} performing integer computations. They can be used to estimate the performance of CPU, memory system, and compiler code generation. The individual programs are Logic Design (2x), Interpreter, Data Compression, Spreadsheet. The approximate size of the suite is 85500 lines of source code without comments. The benchmark suite can be used either for speed measurement, resulting in {SPEC ratios}, or for throughput measurement, resulting in {SPEC rates} (1994-11-15)

SPEC CINT92 ::: (benchmark) A benchmark suite from SPEC, which contains six benchmarks in C performing integer computations. They can be used to estimate the performance of CPU, memory system, and compiler code generation.The individual programs are Logic Design (2x), Interpreter, Data Compression, Spreadsheet. The approximate size of the suite is 85500 lines of source code without comments.The benchmark suite can be used either for speed measurement, resulting in SPEC ratios, or for throughput measurement, resulting in SPEC rates (1994-11-15)

static analysis "theory, programming" A family of techniques of program analysis where the program is not actually executed (as opposed to dynamic analysis), but is analyzed by tools to produce useful information. Static analysis techniques range from the most mundane (statistics on the density of comments, for instance) to the more complex, {semantics}-based techniques. Qualities sought in static analysis techniques are {soundness} and {completeness}. (2003-04-12)

static analysis ::: (theory, programming) A family of techniques of program analysis where the program is not actually executed (as opposed to dynamic analysis), but is analyzed by tools to produce useful information.Static analysis techniques range from the most mundane (statistics on the density of comments, for instance) to the more complex, semantics-based techniques.Qualities sought in static analysis techniques are soundness and completeness.(2003-04-12)

status 1. "hardware" A description of how something is, similar to {state} but usually implying a simpler set of possibilities, e.g. {up} or {down}; set or clear; stopped, starting, started, stopping. In {CPU} hardware, the {status register} stores {bits} of information about the outcome of previous operations, e.g. zero, {overflow}. These status bits can be used to control {conditional execution}, e.g. "branch if zero". The same idea is common in other {hardware}, e.g. an input {peripheral} with a {status bit} to indicate {end of file}. 2. "operating system" Under the {Unix} {operating system}, a {process} terminates with an {exit status} - an integer value where zero indicates successful or normal completion and non-zero values indicate different error conditions. 3. "standard" Standards and other forms of {documentation} can have different statuses such as "proposal", {request for comments} or accepted by some official body. (2018-09-01)

STD ::: 1. state transition diagram.2. Internet standard.A subseries of Request For Comments (RFC) that specify Internet standards. The official list of Internet standards is STD 1.See also For Your Information. . (1994-11-30)

STD 1. {state transition diagram}. 2. {Internet} standard. A subseries of {Request For Comments} (RFC) that specify {Internet} {standards}. The official list of Internet standards is {STD 1}. See also {For Your Information}. {rfc.net (http://rfc.net/)}. (1994-11-30)

sutravibhanga. (P. suttavibhanga; T. mdo rnam par 'byed pa; C. jingfenbie; J. kyofunbetsu; K. kyongbunbyol 經分別). In Sanskrit, "analysis of the SuTRAs," a section of the VINAYA that comments on the PRĀTIMOKsA; also known as the VINAYAVIBHAnGA. The prātimoksa is a list of rules that monks and nuns must follow. The sutravibhanga comments on each rule according to a fourfold structure. First, the text recounts the occasion for the formulation of the rule. According to the tradition, the Buddha did not initially impose rules on the SAMGHA, but created the monastic code gradually as misconduct that required correction began to appear in the order. Thus, each rule was declared by the Buddha in a specific circumstance, only after a misdeed had occurred. The Buddha would then make a rule prohibiting that deed, without any retrospective sanction against the original perpetrator, since no rule was in place at the time of the misdeed. This section explains the circumstances that led to the Buddha's announcement of the rule and may include more than one story. (In the case of subcategories of a misdeed, the Buddha is not always mentioned.) This section of the text provides important insights into monastic life in India at the time. Second, the specific prātimoksa rule is stated. Third, the text provides a word-for-word commentary on the rule as it is set forth in the prātimoksa. Finally, accounts are provided of circumstances under which the rule might be violated without sanction or with reduced sanction. The sutravibhanga is organized according to the eight sections of the prātimoksa. There are separate versions of the text for BHIKsUs and BHIKsUnĪs, with the former also being known as the mahāvibhanga. In most vinaya traditions, a prātimoksa exists as a separate text, but in the Pāli vinaya, the pātimokkha is embedded within the SUTTAVIBHAnGA.

Suzie COBOL /soo'zee koh'bol/ 1. ({IBM}, probably from Frank Zappa's "Suzy Creamcheese") A coder straight out of training school who knows everything except the value of {comments} in plain English. Also (fashionable among personkind wishing to avoid accusations of sexism) "Sammy Cobol" or (in some non-IBM circles) "Cobol Charlie". 2. (proposed) Meta-name for any {code grinder}, analogous to {J. Random Hacker}. [{Jargon File}] (1995-02-06)

Targa Graphics Adaptor ::: (graphics, file format) (TGA) The Truevision Targa Graphics Adaptor file format.The TGA format is a common bitmap file format for storage of 24-bit images. It supports colourmaps, alpha channels, compression and comments.Filename extension: .tga.More information is available from and .[What does it have to do with graphics adaptors?] (1997-08-07)

Targa Graphics Adaptor "graphics, file format" (TGA) The Truevision Targa Graphics Adaptor file format. The TGA format is a common {bitmap} file format for storage of 24-bit images. It supports {colourmaps}, {alpha channels}, {compression} and comments. {Filename extension}: .tga. More information is available from {Truevision (http://truevision.com/)} and {The Graphics File Format Page (http://dcs.ed.ac.uk/~mxr/gfx/)}. [What does it have to do with graphics adaptors?] (1997-08-07)

text-book ::: n. --> A book with wide spaces between the lines, to give room for notes.
A volume, as of some classical author, on which a teacher lectures or comments; hence, any manual of instruction; a schoolbook.


think-aloud protocol: comments made when by experimental participants of the mental processes and approaches used whilst working on a task.

tichang. (J. teisho; K. chech'ang 提唱). In Chinese, "lecture," a type of discourse associated especially with the CHAN ZONG and widely known in the West by its Japanese pronunciation teisho; also called tigang (J. teiko, K. chegang) or tiyao (J. teiyo, K. cheyo). Such lectures, which were often delivered in highly colloquial language, sought to point to the main purport of a Chan tradition, text, or "case" (GONG'AN) by drawing on the peculiar Chan argot and extensively citing Chan literature and Buddhist scriptures. Chan masters might also deliver a sequential series of lectures on each of the Chan cases in a larger gong'an collection, such as the BIYAN LU or the WUMEN GUAN. Such lectures were sometimes delivered in conjunction with the formal "ascending the hall" (SHANGTANG) procedure; the term may also refer to the master's expository comments regarding questions that visitors might raise in the course of listening to a formal lecture. The tichang lecture is the Chan counterpart of expositions of Buddhist teachings given by lecturers in doctrinal schools, but making more use of Chan rather than commentarial and scriptural materials. The term was widely used in the Chan tradition especially from the Song dynasty onward. Although the term appears only rarely in such Chan codes as the BAIZHANG QINGGUI ("Baizhang's Pure Rules") and the CHANYUAN QINGGUI ("Pure Rules of the Chan Garden"), these sources do describe the general procedures to be followed in delivering such a lecture. The forty-two roll Liezu tigang lu ("Record of the Lectures of Successive Patriarchs," using the alternate term tigang), compiled by the Qing-dynasty Chan master Daiweng Xingyue (1619-1684), collects about four hundred Chinese masters' lectures delivered at various special occasions, such as the reigning emperor's birthday or funeral, and in conjunction with daily services.

toaster ::: (jargon) 1. The archetypal really stupid application for an embedded microprocessor controller; often used in comments that imply that a scheme is inappropriate technology (but see elevator controller). DWIM for an assembler? That'd be as silly as running Unix on your toaster!2. A very, very dumb computer. You could run this program on any dumb toaster.See bitty box, Get a real computer!, toy, beige toaster.3. A Macintosh, especially the Classic Mac. Some hold that this is implied by sense 2.4. A peripheral device. I bought my box without toasters, but since then I've added two boards and a second disk drive.This is not usually to be taken literally but, to show off the expansion capabilities of the Risc PC, Acorn Computers Ltd. built a seven-slice machine exhibited at various shows where it attracted attention by occasionally ejecting a pizza.[Jargon File] (1997-07-18)

toaster "jargon" 1. The archetypal really stupid {application} for an {embedded} {microprocessor} controller; often used in comments that imply that a scheme is inappropriate technology (but see {elevator controller}). "{DWIM} for an assembler? That'd be as silly as running {Unix} on your toaster!" 2. A very, very dumb computer. "You could run this program on any dumb toaster." See {bitty box}, {Get a real computer!}, {toy}, {beige toaster}. 3. A {Macintosh}, especially the {Classic Mac}. Some hold that this is implied by sense 2. 4. A peripheral device. "I bought my box without toasters, but since then I've added two boards and a second disk drive". This is not usually to be taken literally but, to show off the expansion capabilities of the {Risc PC}, {Acorn Computers Ltd.} built a seven-slice machine (which they called "the rocket-ship") and installed every imaginable peripheral. In a spare {drive bay} of the top slice they installed a toaster. This machine was exhibited at various shows where it attracted attention by occasionally ejecting a pizza. [{Jargon File}] (1997-07-18)

Ŭisang. (C. Yixiang; J. Gisho 義湘/相) (625-702). Influential Korean monk during the Silla dynasty, who was a leader in the Chinese HUAYAN ZONG and founder of the HWAoM tradition in Korea. After ordaining at Hwangboksa in 644, Ŭisang left for China in 650 with his friend and colleague WoNHYO (617-686) via the overland route, but was arrested by Koguryo border guards and forced to return to Silla. In 661, Ŭisang was able to reach China by sea and studied at Zhixiangsi on ZHONGNANSHAN under the guidance of ZHIYAN (602-668), the second patriarch in the Chinese Huayan school. In China, Ŭisang was a close colleague of FAZANG (643-712), a fellow student of Zhiyan's, who was eighteen years his junior; he is also said to have had associations with DAOXUAN (596-667), the founder of the NANSHAN LÜ ZONG, a major Chinese school of Buddhist discipline (VINAYA). According to some accounts, Ŭisang took over the leadership of Zhiyan's community after his master's death, but eventually returned to Korea in 671 to warn the Silla king Munmu (r. 661-681) of an impending Chinese invasion of Silla by the Tang emperor Gaozong (628-683). In gratitude, the Silla king provided munificent support for Ŭisang's Hwaom school and installed the master at the new monastery of PUSoKSA near T'aebaeksan, where Ŭisang is said to have attracted more than three thousand students. Ŭisang is also presumed to have established a network of Hwaom monasteries around the peninsula, which included Mirisa, HWAoMSA, and HAEINSA. Thanks to royal support, by the time of Ŭisang's death, the Hwaom school had emerged as the predominant scholastic tradition in Korean Buddhism. ¶ Even after his return to Korea, Ŭisang continued to exchange letters and to work with his Chinese colleague FAZANG. In 692, Fazang sent Ŭisang a copy of his HUAYAN JING TANXUAN JI, asking for his comments; this correspondence is still extant today. The most influential of Ŭisang's writings is the HWAoM ILSŬNG PoPKYE TO ("Diagram of the DHARMADHĀTU according to the One Vehicle of Hwaom"), which summarizes the gist of the Huayan school's interpretation of the AVATAMSAKASuTRA. His only other extant work is the Paekhwa toryang parwon mun ("Vow Made at the White Lotus Enlightenment Site"), a short paean to the bodhisattva AVALOKITEsVARA (K. Kwanŭm); works attributed to Ŭisang that are no longer extant, most of which addressed aspects of Hwaom thought, include Simmun kanpop kwan, Ip popkye p'um ch'ogi, and Ilsŭng parwon mun, as well as a commentary to the AMITĀBHASuTRA (So Amit'a ŭigi).

wiki ::: (communications) Any collaborative website that users can easily modify via the web, typically without restriction. A wiki allows anyone, using a web well since contributors tend to be more numerous and persistent than vandals and old versions of pages are always available.Text is entered using a simple mark-up language which is then rendered as HTML. A feature common to many of the different implementations is that any word in mixed case LikeThis is automatically turned into a link to a page of that name, which may or may not exist (similar to the linking in this dictionary).In contrast, a web log, typically authored by an individual, does not allow visitors to change the original posted material, only add comments.Wiki wiki means quick in Hawaiian. The first wiki was created by Ward Cunningham in 1995. .(2005-07-21)

wiki "web" Any collaborative {website} that users can easily modify via the web, often without restriction. A wiki allows anyone, using a {web browser}, to create, edit or delete content that has been placed on the site, including the work of other authors. Text is entered using some simple {mark-up language} which is then rendered as {HTML}. A feature common to many of the different implementations is that any word in mixed case LikeThis (a "wikiword") is rendered as a link to a page of that name, which may or may not exist. Wikis work surprisingly well. The most famous example, {Wikipedia} (referred to as "wiki" by some), is one of the most visited sites on the web. Contributors tend to be more numerous and more persistent than vandals, and old versions of pages are always available. Like many simple concepts, open editing has profound effects on usage. Allowing everyday users to create and edit any page encourages democratic use of the web and promotes content composition by nontechnical users. In contrast, a {web log}, typically authored by an individual, does not allow visitors to change the original posted material, only add comments. Wiki wiki means "quick" in Hawaiian. The first wiki was created by {Ward Cunningham} in 1995. {wiki.org (http://wiki.org/)}. (2014-10-12)

winged comments "programming" {Comments} set on the same line as code, as opposed to {boxed comments}. In {C}, for example: d = sqrt(x*x + y*y); /* distance from origin */ Generally these refer only to the action(s) taken on that line. [{Jargon File}] (1997-07-21)

winged comments ::: (programming) Comments set on the same line as code, as opposed to boxed comments.In C, for example: d = sqrt(x*x + y*y); /* distance from origin */ Generally these refer only to the action(s) taken on that line.[Jargon File] (1997-07-21)

XXX /X-X-X/ A marker that attention is needed. Commonly used in program comments to indicate areas that are {kluge}d or need to be. Some hackers liken "XXX" to the notional heavy-porn movie rating. Compare {FIXME}. [{Jargon File}]

XXX ::: /X-X-X/ A marker that attention is needed. Commonly used in program comments to indicate areas that are kluged or need to be. Some hackers liken XXX to the notional heavy-porn movie rating. Compare FIXME.[Jargon File]



QUOTES [17 / 17 - 906 / 906]


KEYS (10k)

   13 Sri Aurobindo
   1 Yolo Swaggins
   1 JohnyTex
   1 G_Morgan in reddit [http://www.reddit.com/r/programming/comments/a481l/so_to_get_back_to_the_point_go_vs_algol68_tbh_i/c0fs2nk]
   1 Ed Hacker

NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

   26 Anonymous
   19 Lisa Kleypas
   13 Sri Aurobindo
   11 Stephen Harrod Buhner
   8 Liane Moriarty
   8 Hillary Clinton
   7 Roxane Gay
   7 Bren Brown
   6 Jenny Han
   6 Dave Eggers
   5 Rush Limbaugh
   5 Kimberly Derting
   4 Steve McConnell
   4 Simone Elkeles
   4 Sherrilyn Kenyon
   4 Sandra Cisneros
   4 Robert C Martin
   4 R C Sproul
   4 Noam Chomsky
   3 T D Jakes

1:We must live as a nation before we can live in humanity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
2:A man must be strong and free in himself before he can live usefully for others. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
3:Nationalism tempered by expediency is like the French despotism tempered by epigrams. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
4:A mistake must always be acknowledged and corrected. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
5:God being Supreme Wisdom uses everything for His supreme purposes and out of evil cometh good. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
6:I'm a simple lobster, I see JBP I establish a local dominance hierarchy by clicking the like button with my lobster claw. ~ Yolo Swaggins, JRE 1208 - Jordan Peterson, Comments,
7:One must first be conscious before one can be ignorant. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
8:It is the true more than the new that the poet is after. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
9:Statesmanship is not summed up in the words prudence and caution, it has a place for strength and courage. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
10:I am sorry to inform you that due to medical problems this is my last tweet. I have very much enjoyed spreading the wisdom of Nisargadatta and others and reading your comments. ~ Ed Hacker,
11:Our lives are useful only in proportion as they help others by example or action or tend to fulfil God in man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
12:A new kind of poetry demands a new mentality in the recipient as well as in the writer. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
13:Every faith is to a certain extent rational, it has its own analysis and synthesis by which it seeks to establish itself intellectually. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
14:Silence, the nurse of the Almighty's power,
The omnipotent hush, womb of the immortal Word. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
15:Truth is wider, greater than her forms.
A thousand icons they have made of her
And find her in the idols they adore;
But she remains herself and infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, Comments on Specific Lines and Passages of the Poem,
16:This is one of the reasons Lisp doesn't get anywhere. The trend to promote features so clever that you stop thinking about your problem and start thinking about the clever features. CL's loop is so powerful that people invented functional programming so that they'd never have to use it. ~ G_Morgan in reddit [http://www.reddit.com/r/programming/comments/a481l/so_to_get_back_to_the_point_go_vs_algol68_tbh_i/c0fs2nk]
17:Why Ubuntu: If I were you I'd just install Ubuntu into a dual-boot partition (the Ubuntu website has instructions for this) and learn as you go. Ubuntu is similar enough to Windows that you should be able to start using it right away without much difficulty.
   For running your Python scripts you'll want to drop into the shell (Ctrl + Alt + T If memory serves me right). As you become more comfortable with Ubuntu, you can start using the shell more and more. The shell is what gives you access to the power of Unix; every time you need to do something tedious and repetitive, try to find out how to do it through the shell.
   Eventually you will find yourself using the shell constantly. You'll wonder how you ever managed without it, and deride other operating systems for their lack of sensible programming tools. One day you'll realise that desktop window managers are a needless distraction. You start using xmonad or awesomewm. Eventually you realise that this, too, is a bastardisaton of the Unix vision and start using tmux exclusively. Then suddenly it hits you - every computer, every operating system, no matter how insignificant or user-friendly, has the Unix nature. All of them are merely streams from where you can ssh back into the ocean of Unix. Having achieved enlightenment you are equally content using an iPad as your main work computer, using powershell in Windows or SSH into a Digital Ocean droplet from your parent's computer. This is the Zen of Unix.
   ~ JohnyTex, https://www.reddit.com/r/learnprogramming/comments/38zytg/is_it_worth_my_time_to_learn_linux_while_learning,

*** WISDOM TROVE ***

1:Shakespeare led a life of allegory; his works are the comments on it. ~ john-keats, @wisdomtrove
2:If I were a maker of books I should compile a register, with comments, of different deaths. He who should teach people to die, would teach them to live. ~ michel-de-montaigne, @wisdomtrove
3:He who is well acquainted with the text of scripture, is a distinguished theologian. For a Bible passage or text is of more value than the comments of four authors. ~ martin-luther, @wisdomtrove
4:There are books in which the footnotes, or the comments scrawled by some reader's hand in the margin, are more interesting than the text. The world is one of those books. ~ george-santayana, @wisdomtrove
5:Unfortunately most criticism is by poseurs. They use their comments about someone else's work as a platform on which to strike poses. What they're really saying is: "Look at me! Look at me!" ~ frank-herbert, @wisdomtrove
6:People will try to label you not good enough, too slow, too old, too many mistakes. You can't stop negative comments or prevent negative labels, but you can choose to not let them hold you back. ~ joel-osteen, @wisdomtrove
7:Sadly, if we are not confident about our choices, we can easily let other peoples' comments make us feel guilty and ruin the joy we need to experience in life through doing the little things that mean a lot to us. ~ joyce-meyer, @wisdomtrove
8:I do not mean to object to a thorough knowledge of the famous works we read. I object only to the interminable comments and bewildering criticisms that teach but one thing: there are as many opinions as there are men. ~ hellen-keller, @wisdomtrove
9:I would not have said anything about Mr. Trump, never - I would never have said anything if he didn't call himself a Christian. It'd be none of my business whatsoever to make any comments about his language, his vulgarities, his slander of people, but I was deeply troubled ... that here's a man who holds up a Bible one day, and calls a lady "bimbo" the next. ~ max-lucado, @wisdomtrove
10:We don't exist unless there is someone who can see us existing, what we say has no meaning until someone can understand, while to be surrounded by friends is constantly to have our identity confirmed; their knowledge and care for us have the power to pull us from our numbness. In small comments, many of them teasing, they reveal they know our foibles and except them and so, in turn, accept that we have a place in the world. ~ alain-de-botton, @wisdomtrove
11:One of the most appalling comments on our present way of life is that at one time half of all the beds in our hospitals were reserved for patients with nervous and mental troubles, patients who had collapsed under the crushing burden of accumulated yesterdays and fearful tomorrows. Yet a vast majority of those people would be walking the streets today, leading happy, useful lives — if they had only heeded the words of Jesus: “Have no anxiety about the morrow”; or the words of Sir William Osler: "Live in day-tight compartments." ~ dale-carnegie, @wisdomtrove

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:Comments outnumber ideas. ~ Austin Kleon,
2:Special Agent Euzent’s comments ~ Kendra Elliot,
3:comments because he needed Slick to ~ David Baldacci,
4:Code never lies, comments sometimes do. ~ Ron Jeffries,
5:Make your links from blog comments genuine. ~ Matt Cutts,
6:I'm vulnerable reading people's comments on Facebook. ~ Matisyahu,
7:I will accept comments and criticism about change. ~ Jimmy Haslam,
8:Obsolete comments are worse than no comments. ~ Douglas Crockford,
9:A JSON decoder MAY accept and ignore comments. ~ Douglas Crockford,
10:My comments are reserved for reputable journalists. ~ Ward Churchill,
11:I try not to read blogs. The comments are extremely harsh. ~ Jessica Simpson,
12:Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, ~ Suzanne Collins,
13:God can use even stray, honest comments to bring people to himself. ~ Mark Dever,
14:Comments about appearance belittle women professionally. Sadly, ~ Kirsten Gillibrand,
15:Yellen’s comments suggest, and I agree, that we are in an asset bubble. ~ Carl Icahn,
16:Comments will be moderated by The Hindu editorial team. 2.  Comments that ~ Anonymous,
17:If you have any comments at all about the store, please call me at home. ~ Seth Godin,
18:I'm not prepared to make any comments on the World Cup in Qatar in 1922. ~ Roy Hodgson,
19:A brainiac notices everything, an ignoramus comments about everything. ~ Heinrich Heine,
20:May comments, “We’re always trying to persuade ourselves of things.” Are ~ Lisa Wingate,
21:Redundant comments are just places to collect lies and misinformation. ~ Robert C Martin,
22:of fear beats inside her. Who is this woman, watching from afar, who comments ~ Jessie Burton,
23:We are uniting in condemning the comments of Donald Trump on Muslims and women. ~ Keir Starmer,
24:I cannot remember, so those photos and those comments have become my memories. ~ Louise O Neill,
25:The comments section is now alive and chewing at the heart of Western democracy. ~ Laurie Penny,
26:I don't get discouraged because of the comments. After all, they don't really know me. ~ Jay Park,
27:I monitor haters' comments. I am aware of vicious rumors, but I am not afraid anymore. ~ Jay Park,
28:It's interesting when something's written about you, and there's comments after. ~ Alison Stewart,
29:You should never read online comments if you want to keep thoughts above the belt. ~ Heidi Julavits,
30:Either positive or negative comments are good because it shows I am still relevant. ~ Justin Guarini,
31:I don't get myself caught up in the rhetoric of any personal comments that are made. ~ Roger Goodell,
32:people will always make comments when you decide to live a countercultural lifestyle ~ Cait Flanders,
33:A president from a partner nation should not make comments on Italian politics. ~ Anibal Cavaco Silva,
34:Holy shit!” I exclaimed, and that was one of the most coherent comments of the bunch. ~ Larry Correia,
35:ventured a couple of negative comments about her father, and never tried it again. “It was ~ Robert Lacey,
36:It's a damn good story. If you have any comments, write them on the back of a check. ~ Erle Stanley Gardner,
37:We must live as a nation before we can live in humanity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
38:You ever . . . look at a YouTube comments section? You’d . . . want everyone dead . . . too. ~ Chuck Wendig,
39:My mother used to tell me I was my own worst critic. Clearly, she wasn't reading the comments. ~ Sarah Hepola,
40:The proper use of comments is to compensate for our failure to express ourself in code. ~ Robert Cecil Martin,
41:I understand what you're saying, and your comments are valuable, but I'm gonna ignore your advice. ~ Roald Dahl,
42:I've made my own comments as to our vales as well in a speech I gave to the State Department. ~ Rex W Tillerson,
43:When anyone makes comments that are offensive to you, would you be willing to do the teaching? ~ Iyanla Vanzant,
44:Be wary of the arrogant intellectual who comments from the stands without having played on the field. ~ Ray Dalio,
45:I don't really read reviews and comments that much. There just isn't a lot to be gained from it. ~ Chris Hardwick,
46:I had bitten into my tongue, and I either had to spit or swallow. I swallowed. No comments, please. ~ Jim Butcher,
47:Oh, how I wish that Orwell were still alive, so that I could read his comments on contemporary events! ~ W H Auden,
48:I'll refrain from making any more comments on any ongoing people involved in the judicial process. ~ Bill Belichick,
49:I’m giving you these comments because I have very high expectations and I know that you can reach them. ~ Daniel Coyle,
50:Dear Editor: It's a damn good story. If you have any comments, write them on the back of a check. ~ Erle Stanley Gardner,
51:Part of our perception of our looks is shaped from a lifetime of comments, opinions, and reactions to it. ~ Dannika Dark,
52:Comments that suggest that Muslims should be banned from the United States are offensive and unconstitutional. ~ Mike Pence,
53:Rhetoric can be razor sharp, and just as one needs to take some comments seriously, others should not be. ~ Alexander Stubb,
54:Donald Trump has gone from making absurd comments to being downright dangerous with his bombastic rhetoric. ~ Lindsey Graham,
55:Say something. No, wait—say something helpful, not one of your sarcastic comments that help no one but you. ~ Saffron A Kent,
56:We know now that Donald Trump's comments are actually being used to recruit and radicalize on the Internet. ~ Hillary Clinton,
57:If you understand football you make substitutions during the game, if you don't you make comments after it. ~ Hristo Stoichkov,
58:I try to visit stores because it's important to meet the teams and to hear the comments of the salespeople. ~ Delphine Arnault,
59:I'm open to comments. I'm open to objective points of view, because I've been very narrow and very subjective. ~ Richard Donner,
60:Comments in the resource file provide contextual information that helps localizers more accurately translate strings. ~ Anonymous,
61:Friends, loved ones, and even enemies influence us, but that doesn’t mean their comments are relevant to your destiny. ~ T D Jakes,
62:A man must be strong and free in himself before he can live usefully for others. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
63:I want to live a really positive ass life. No matter what is in the media about me or what's said in the comments. ~ Scott Eastwood,
64:Marcia listened to the comments and wondered why people thought that wearing ExtraOrdinary Wizard robes made her deaf. ~ Angie Sage,
65:Matthew Henry comments, “The desires of the soul find nothing in the wealth of the world to give them any satisfaction. ~ Anonymous,
66:A lady likes to be complimented on her looks, her eyes, her figure. But the personality comments are much appreciated. ~ Betty White,
67:Our state of mind can turn even neutral comments into fighting words, distorting what we hear to fit what we fear. ~ Daniel J Siegel,
68:Why … wouldn’t I? People are people. You ever … look at a YouTube comments section? You’d … want everyone dead … too. ~ Chuck Wendig,
69:Facebook, instagram - I prefer visual communication better than verbal. But I read all the comments, answering too. ~ Verka Serduchka,
70:If It's your passion and you want to do it for the rest of your life, why would comments stop you from doing that? ~ Christina Grimmie,
71:It circled back to her looks, as most snide comments did. Surely a pretty blond girl had to be shallow and dim-witted. ~ Kristin Hannah,
72:Maybe if the men in my life weren’t always making smart-ass comments, they wouldn’t have to worry about bruises so much. ~ Julie Powell,
73:Nationalism tempered by expediency is like the French despotism tempered by epigrams. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
74:A lot of my social media posts are about celebrating these women who wear our clothes, feel great in them and have comments. ~ Eva Mendes,
75:We're hiding in a tree with people chasing us. Do you really think this is an appropriate time to make suggestive comments? ~ Elisa Nader,
76:It's so rare that I'll read or even watch an interview. I don't want to, either. I don't want to see other people's comments. ~ Alex Ebert,
77:Never read the comments, Covey! That's the first rule of-"
"If you say 'Fight Club' to me right now, I will hang up on you. ~ Jenny Han,
78:These 3 topics will always generate 100+ comments of irrational/ridiculous people: Taxes, tipping, and spending on weddings. ~ Ramit Sethi,
79:Knee-Jerk Irony: The tendency to make flippant ironic comments as a reflexive matter of course in everyday conversation. ~ Douglas Coupland,
80:His [Donald Trump ]comments are shocking, offensive and disturbing but I don't believe it merits a ban at this point in time. ~ Keir Starmer,
81:I always separate myself from reviews, but tweets and Instagram comments, they go directly to my phone. It's hard to keep up. ~ Skylar Astin,
82:One of the signs (you) displayed (said): QUESTION AUTHORITY. Comments or slogans of this nature cannot and will not be condoned. ~ C L Wilson,
83:The author refers to a player's affected nonchalance and comments he is, "too young to realize you are what you pretend to be. ~ Michael Lewis,
84:Having a best friend is a wonderful thing. There needs be no proofreading, no refinement, of the comments that come from my head. ~ Mary Kubica,
85:My comments concerning persons afflicted with AIDS as well as various minority groups have left people wondering if I am a racist. ~ John Rocker,
86:A mistake must always be acknowledged and corrected. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
87:God being Supreme Wisdom uses everything for His supreme purposes and out of evil cometh good. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
88:For me or a Bruce Springsteen to sit up in our ivory towers and make comments about racism, well, were not really in it, are we? ~ John Mellencamp,
89:If I was gay, I would think hip-hop hates me. Have you read the YouTube comments lately? 'Man, that's gay' gets dropped on the daily. ~ Macklemore,
90:If you go to places like YouTube, it's a cesspool, and a lot of the comments are really horrifying and misogynist and harassing. ~ Jessica Valenti,
91:Don't listen to the malicious comments of those friends who, never taking any risks themselves, can only see other people's failures. ~ Paulo Coelho,
92:Even worse than seeing women's privacy violated on social media is reading the accompanying comments that show such a lack of empathy. ~ Emma Watson,
93:One must first be conscious before one can be ignorant. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
94:Having a best friend is a wonderful thing. There needs be no proofreading, no refinement, of the comments that come from my head. “What ~ Mary Kubica,
95:Irene bit the inside of her cheek hard before she could make any comments about putting a girdle round the world in forty minutes. ~ Genevieve Cogman,
96:It is the true more than the new that the poet is after. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
97:After all, I want to make sure I stick with his original vision. So far, [Steven King] comments have always been the same - run with it! ~ Robin Furth,
98:I don't read the "letters" section of Time magazine. I think it's just my habit as a reader. I don't read comments on stories, in general. ~ Joel Stein,
99:the summit. Furthermore, written comments were solicited and received in considerable numbers. A Draft Committee composed of Drs. Clowney, ~ R C Sproul,
100:[from the Acknowledgments page] ...and while comments are very welcome, I would suggest it is a waste of your precious time. ~ Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse,
101:That voice you hear in your head, the one whispering that you need to add some comments, may just be your program crying out to be rewritten. ~ Russ Olsen,
102:The point isn’t whether or not Trump is specifically interested in hurting me or any other journalist. It’s that his comments put us in danger. ~ Katy Tur,
103:When I post a selfie and someone comments, 'Oh, sure, go ahead and reclaim your sexuality, I got my rocks off,' that's not my problem. ~ Emily Ratajkowski,
104:Even when I'm trying to be straightforward and honest and my comments are innocent, inevitably they get turned into something sort of salacious. ~ Megan Fox,
105:The FDA has received over a million comments from citizens demanding labeling of GMOs. 90 percent of Americans agree. So, why no labeling? ~ Dennis Kucinich,
106:Likes” and comments offer tribal validation for those who shared the content, and provide variable rewards that motivate them to continue posting. ~ Nir Eyal,
107:Statesmanship is not summed up in the words prudence and caution, it has a place for strength and courage. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
108:Had she any respect for him at all, his words would've affected her. But no value accompanies comments spewed from the mouth of a brute. ~ Richelle E Goodrich,
109:You’re actually going to kill me, aren’t you?” “Yes,” he said, feigning disappointment. “You ruined the surprise with your smart-ass comments.” I ~ Jay McLean,
110:I don’t compare myself to anyone else; I don’t make comments about anyone else because they do what feels right for them, and that’s okay by me. ~ Taylor Swift,
111:I've been really surprised about a lot of the negative comments about artisanal pencil sharpening. Like, it really rubs some people the wrong way. ~ David Rees,
112:We are all too often told by someone that we are too old, too young, too different, too much the same, and those comments can be devastating. ~ Sharon Salzberg,
113:We must confront the reality that his [Donald Trump] comments have provoked, and consider whether we want to import such hatred to this country. ~ Tulip Siddiq,
114:You don’t know if she shares the same strong, pure feelings you have for her,” Oshima comments. I shake my head. “It hurts to think about it. ~ Haruki Murakami,
115:I don't read the comments anymore, unless they are moderated. Which is not to say censored, but I don't need to read someone saying, "You're ugly." ~ Roxane Gay,
116:I could taste the blood in my mouth, from where I had bitten into my tongue, and I either had to spit or swallow. I swallowed. No comments, please. ~ Jim Butcher,
117:Our lives are useful only in proportion as they help others by example or action or tend to fulfil God in man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
118:He had seen inferno and tempest, and had not only looked into the abyss but the abyss had looked into him, and then made disparaging comments. ~ Jonathan L Howard,
119:little about your work, tease and titillate with alluring, even contradictory comments, then stand back and let others try to make sense of it all. ~ Robert Greene,
120:Many books in popular psychology are a melange of the author's comments, a dollop of research, and stupefyingly dull transcriptions from interviews. ~ Carol Tavris,
121:Some of the comments on YouTube make you weep for the future of humanity just for the spelling alone, never mind the obscenity and the naked hatred. ~ Lev Grossman,
122:You have to excuse me because I AM a teenager, so I'm allowed to sound illiterate and make stupid comments like 'I'm not into hard-core feminism.' ~ Christina Ricci,
123:I can't explain why I don't read comments. Maybe because I worked at Time for so long and they don't have them, so I keep forgetting that they're there. ~ Joel Stein,
124:Oh dear gods. I think my underwear just fell off.” “Nicole,” Tina hissed. “Keep your comments to yourself! Be a respectable fucking lady, for fuck’s sake! ~ T J Klune,
125:And he would listen, making only a few comments, always sympathetic, so that when I left him I had the distinct impression he had solved everything for me. ~ Anne Rice,
126:I had heard some women make comments about my chest, so why not show it off? Nobody wants to see a fat guy in tights. That wouldn't be fair to the fans. ~ Paul Stanley,
127:Nina’s already thinking about grad school? Is she that much older than you?”
“A few years, yeah.”
“Whoa.” I refrain from making any cougar comments. ~ Kristin Rae,
128:he listened to the workers’ comments on events. He wondered how they could know so much, but above all he marvelled at how much misery grown men could cause. ~ Anonymous,
129:I haven't talked to [Donald] Trump since he made his comments about [John] McCain being captured; now he doesn't respect military guys that get captured. ~ Rush Limbaugh,
130:I have tough skin. I don't really read any of the comments unless they are positive. I don't accept that much negativity in my life. It's not an option. ~ Scott Eastwood,
131:One reason it's so difficult to decide what to say became immediately clear: comments and questions that some appreciated were not appreciated by others. ~ Deborah Tannen,
132:I do this for the sake of myself. It's a selfish process. I don't really have any expectations from anyone for your comments or your reviews or your previews. ~ Lupe Fiasco,
133:You can always find a stray negative comment on the Internet. It's like everybody loves to put negative comments on the Internet under the cloak of anonymity. ~ John Legend,
134:Do you want my input or is this just an angry tirade you need to vent? (Acheron) Both! (Kat) Okay, you rant and I’ll add my comments at the end. (Acheron) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
135:I like comedies, and my brain sort of spins in that direction. So I'm really happy to say there were several smartass comments that come from me [on Star Wars]. ~ Alan Tudyk,
136:Tea Party Republicans, in an effort to kill the farm bill will stereotype and make racial comments about food stamps - which is a big element to the program. ~ Eleanor Clift,
137:If I were a maker of books I should compile a register, with comments, of different deaths. He who should teach people to die, would teach them to live. ~ Michel de Montaigne,
138:If you come out with racist comments, then I believe you shouldn't be allowed to come to a football match. Don't be so narrow minded, you're bigger than that. ~ Rio Ferdinand,
139:I'll miss the comments from the people on the street who love the show and who have felt its impact on the culture. I won't miss the shooting schedule, though! ~ Dennis Franz,
140:I never pay attention, to no numbers, no views, comments ... I just try to keep on going, keep on living my life so I can continue to put out music that's real. ~ Kirko Bangz,
141:Mitt Romney is saying his comments about liking to fire people were taken out of context. Yeah, what he actually said was he likes to set poor people on fire. ~ Conan O Brien,
142:You guys are so caught up in your polished images and your passive-aggressive comments that no one ever comes right out and says anything. Well, I'm going to. ~ Richelle Mead,
143:The backlash to [Sarah] Palin`s comments was swift, with veterans and veterans` groups criticizing the apparent politicization of post-traumatic stress disorder. ~ Chris Hayes,
144:A deistical prater, fit to sit in the chimney-corner of a pot-house, and make blasphemous comments on the one greasy newspaper fingered by beer-swilling tinkers. ~ George Eliot,
145:I'm a simple lobster, I see JBP I establish a local dominance hierarchy by clicking the like button with my lobster claw. ~ Yolo Swaggins, JRE 1208 - Jordan Peterson, Comments,
146:Richard Lewontin comments . . . To be convinced that all behavior on the part of others, without distinction, is hostile, is a form of mental illness.57 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
147:We can skip through a lot of the stuff people might ask about the writing of the book, and so their comments always start well, well down into the nitty-gritty. ~ Chang Rae Lee,
148:don’t care about your personal needs. They want to know what you can do to meet their needs. So don’t make comments that reflect any urgent desires of your own—such ~ Kate White,
149:I was still pondering her comments, when she hit me with the bomb. She said that the only time a woman is ready for a man in her life is when she didn’t need one. ~ Cupcake Brown,
150:Ask your loyal customers for positive comments about your products and your service. Then post these testimonials where other customers and prospects can enjoy them. ~ Ron Kaufman,
151:Do you want my input or is this just an angry tirade you need to vent? (Acheron)
Both! (Kat)
Okay, you rant and I’ll add my comments at the end. (Acheron) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
152:In general, when reading a scholarly critic, one profits more from his quotations than from his comments. ~ W. H. Auden, The Dyer's Hand, and Other Essays (1962), "Reading", p. 9.,
153:I swear, Claire-bear, I am going to call your mom and tell her you need to start riding the short bus. You really need to start practicing your bitchy comments. ~ Kimberly Derting,
154:A new kind of poetry demands a new mentality in the recipient as well as in the writer. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
155:He who is well acquainted with the text of scripture, is a distinguished theologian. For a Bible passage or text is of more value than the comments of four authors. ~ Martin Luther,
156:That was the problem with snide comments; they invariably lost all their punch on repetition. Besides, when facing impending death, what did the odd witticism matter? ~ Lauren Willig,
157:The proper use of comments is to compensate for our failure to express ourself in code. Note that I used the word failure. I meant it. Comments are always failures. ~ Robert C Martin,
158:I try not to read the negative comments, and when I do, I let it roll off my back. I remind myself that there will always be haters as long as you are in the public eye. ~ Ryan Lochte,
159:Oh, look at this. NBC/Wall Street Journal: "Thirty-eight percent of the American people say [Donald] Trump's comments about women disqualify him from being president." ~ Rush Limbaugh,
160:I like to mix it up, because the kind of comments you can get from a fiction writer about your poetry are going to be very different than what you'll get from a poet. ~ Sandra Cisneros,
161:I see a lot of comments on Twitter and stuff about how ugly I am, how bad I am at the drums, how awkward I look, and I'm like, yeah, I agree with most of those things. ~ Patrick Carney,
162:Reading comments below YouTube clips of my stand-up in the late noughties encouraged me to make the act even more like the sort of act the people who hated it would hate; ~ Stewart Lee,
163:17% of girls have experienced a physical attack… 97% of students report regularly hearing homophobic remarks by peers… 53% hear homophobic comments by teaching staff… ~ Rosalind Wiseman,
164:Gabe says you make a mean chicken."
Finn, who is sitting by the fireplace making smoke, comments for the first time. "Well, she certainly doesn't make a nice one. ~ Maggie Stiefvater,
165:I feel that right from the start the players were prepared to experience catastrophic results with comments like: 'It's going to be tough and we are going to need time'. ~ Lilian Thuram,
166:She received enough attention to get the courtesy of rejection letters and occasional insulting comments instead of the far more insulting and demeaning silence. ~ Nassim Nicholas Taleb,
167:Through EdgeRank, Facebook weighs likes, comments, and shares, but it currently does not give greater weight to click-throughs or any other action that leads to sales. ~ Gary Vaynerchuk,
168:Your greatness won’t be found in a classroom; an apprenticeship; a teacher; or flattering comments from well-meaning family members, friends, or lovers. It is within you. ~ Wayne W Dyer,
169:today, our social media experiences are designed in a way that favors broadcasting over engagements, posts over discussions, shallow comments over deep conversations. ~ Thomas L Friedman,
170:Donald Trump's insulting comments about women go hand in hand with his plans to defund Planned Parenthood and appoint Supreme Court justices who will end legal abortion. ~ Hillary Clinton,
171:Every faith is to a certain extent rational, it has its own analysis and synthesis by which it seeks to establish itself intellectually. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Karmayogin, Opinion and Comments,
172:Regarding comments attributed to me in the Los Angeles Times - allegedly made on a bus trip from Germany to Holland in 1998 - I emphatically denounce such comments as false. ~ Paul Crouch,
173:Silence, the nurse of the Almighty’s power,
The omnipotent hush, womb of the immortal Word. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
174:Do people you respect or care about leave hateful comments on the Internet?” (No.) “Do you really want to engage with people who have infinite time on their hands?” (No.) ~ Timothy Ferriss,
175:I also love the makers of South Park, because they're political, strong, and they're making all of these comments that would get you shot for if you did it in a drama. ~ Michelle Rodriguez,
176:I always run the stories by Capcom. They read the scripts and give their comments. I would never want to kill a character that they really want to use in the next game. ~ Paul W S Anderson,
177:I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate, John Edwards, but it turns out that you have to go into rehab if you use the word 'faggot.' ~ Ann Coulter,
178:Of course she loved her only child, but she had too much respect for herself to tolerate any more snide comments. It was like strikes—after three, Ryn ended the conversation. ~ Jewel E Ann,
179:They become more personable as you head south, the people. You sit in a diner and, along with your coffee and your food, they bring you comments, questions, smiles, and nods. ~ Neil Gaiman,
180:The one thing I don't understand is when people make comments who are clearly not fans of mine. I think, why are you here? Why are you wasting your time? It's fascinating. ~ Madonna Ciccone,
181:There are books in which the footnotes, or the comments scrawled by some reader's hand in the margin, are more interesting than the text. The world is one of those books. ~ George Santayana,
182:If I have one technology tip of the day, it's this: No matter how good the video on YouTube is, don't read the comments, just don't, because it will make you hate all humans. ~ Matt Groening,
183:I'm the one who made many of the bold comments that we'd seen the technologies from AMD as pretty good. Their technology in many areas was leading. But those are transient. ~ Kevin B Rollins,
184:It's very interesting for me to listen to music with my wife. She's not a musician but she very often makes comments about pieces in ways that are similar to what I'm thinking. ~ Paul Lansky,
185:Senator majority leader, Mitch McConnell, slammed [Donald] Trump`s comments about burning the American flag which is protected under the first amendment should lead to jail time. ~ Chuck Todd,
186:Since I was there in the very beginning, I know the history of the characters. So, I make comments about the tone and sometimes remind the writers that we've done that before. ~ Matt Groening,
187:A newspaper runs a story, a friend posts a link on Facebook, a blogger writes a post, and it’s interesting. But the real intellectual action often takes place in the comments. ~ Clive Thompson,
188:Relax, son," Atticus had told him in one of his rare comments on her. "Don't push her. Let her go at her own speed. Push her and every mule in the county'd be easier to live with. ~ Harper Lee,
189:Relax, son,” Atticus had told him in one of his rare comments on her. “Don’t push her. Let her go at her own speed. Push her and every mule in the county’d be easier to live with. ~ Harper Lee,
190:I hurried upstairs and powered up my laptop. I checked on the review I'd posted last night. No comments. People sucked. But I did gain five new followers. People rocked. ~ Jennifer L Armentrout,
191:We have to respect that any nominee to the Supreme Court would have to defer any comments on any matters which are either before the court or very likely to be before the court. ~ Edward Kennedy,
192:I pretty much read reviews and comments only looking for the negative. Literally, when I read positive comments, it's like a zero. I think the issue is if you agree with it or not. ~ Bob Odenkirk,
193:Or if you wish to put more of a barb in your comments, you can always say, “Yes, Mom, I have in fact decided to get out of bed in spite of the fact that you’ve been telling me to! ~ David D Burns,
194:She's scrolling fast through my code, which is a little embarrassing, because my code is full of comments like 'Hell, yeah!' and 'Now, computer, it is time for you to do my bidding. ~ Robin Sloan,
195:I have never read a review for anything I have ever done, be it for theater or movies, just because. I am really good about that. And YouTube comments. People will hide behind that. ~ Skylar Astin,
196:...I know this world. I live in it too. There's no shelter or safety or escape from the cruel stares and comments, the too-small seats, the too-small everything for your too-big body. ~ Roxane Gay,
197:I use Google+, and I find the quality of the comments are very sophisticated because there is more trust inside of Google+ than there is inside of Twitter and Facebook, for example. ~ Eric Schmidt,
198:The time that I would spend revisiting my old Get Your War On strips is more profitably spent Googling myself and reading comments about how people hate my pencil-sharpening business. ~ David Rees,
199:...to protect her from male attention, that feeling of being scored each time you walked down a street, the demeaning comments yelled out of cars, that casual sweep of the eyes... ~ Liane Moriarty,
200:Getting comments like that from even the young people at the shows who probably aren't singers, the girls who just tell me that I'm an inspiration to them, for one reason or another. ~ Wanda Jackson,
201:That his comments actually pertained to her questions—that in spite of the infinity in his eyes he was participating in a finite conversation—made up for the sourness in his face. ~ Jonathan Franzen,
202:The truth is, some of these comments, when you actually ask 'well, this is based on what? This notion that Obama's a socialist, for example?' Nobody can really give you a good answer. ~ Barack Obama,
203:This is the political culture of the United States, which one should accept as is. The United States is a great country and it deserves non-interference and no third-party comments. ~ Vladimir Putin,
204:you ought not judge” is itself a judgment! (Pluralists misinterpret Jesus’ comments on judging [Matt. 7:1-5]. Jesus did not prohibit judging as such, only judging hypocritically.) ~ Norman L Geisler,
205:I think the Bible is hugely patriarchal. There are so many sexist comments and homophobic comments and comments that are not in keeping with nurturing and loving the human spirit. ~ Alanis Morissette,
206:Peer reviewers were then asked to rate (using a slider on the screen) how well they knew that particular project and how large the individual’s impact was, and to add any comments. Over ~ Laszlo Bock,
207:But I'm still a work in progress. My mother calls me quite frequently with various critiques of my performance on TV and other public events. She's usually pretty severe with her comments. ~ John McCain,
208:These comments are so noisy that we learn to ignore them. As we read through code, our eyes simply skip over them. Eventually the comments begin to lie as the code around them changes. ~ Robert C Martin,
209:This is an extraordinary illustrated collection of Chinese herbsaccompanied by concise and expert comments. Jing-Nuan Wu has succeeded incompiling this most unique and informative book. ~ Koji Nakanishi,
210:I now rely on a scanner, which reproduces the passages I want to cite, and then I keep my own comments on those books in a separate file so that I will never confuse the two again. ~ Doris Kearns Goodwin,
211:So I wore the lesbian comments like a mask that kept everything I really loved private and safe and beyond the dirty grasp of the people who didn't know the real, true me and never would. ~ Matthew Quick,
212:[Christians] practiced moderation and chastity in marriage, for example, and Galen was puzzled at how they were able to do so. His comments are a kind of back-handed compliment, I suppose. ~ Larry Hurtado,
213:muttered comments about Percy’s chances. “He’s dead,” said one. “Would be those two who found him,” said another. “Yeah,” muttered another. “Let him join the Fifth Cohort. Greeks and geeks. ~ Rick Riordan,
214:That’s the vast majority of this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. ~ Dave Eggers,
215:It bothers me to read the comments of leaders of the Hamas and others who hate America that their goal is to have more weaponry capable of delivering all types of weapons of mass destruction. ~ Don Nickles,
216:L.A. Clippers owner Donald Sterling was recorded on tape making racist comments. He now has been banned from the league for life. Great, just where Sterling wanted to end up - the blacklist. ~ Jimmy Fallon,
217:He said, “If God lived on Earth people would stalk his Facebook page and leave nasty comments on his Pinterest site.” Then it sunk in- timing was everything and social media was the devil. ~ Shannon L Alder,
218:Unfortunately most criticism is by poseurs. They use their comments about someone else's work as a platform on which to strike poses. What they're really saying is: "Look at me! Look at me!" ~ Frank Herbert,
219:The Divine Thing that made itself the foundation of the Church does not seem, to judge by his comments on the religious leadership of his day, to have hoped much from officers of a church. ~ Charles Williams,
220:I have been 130 lbs. as well as 215 lbs. I have had blond, strawberry blond, green, pink and purple hair, and none of that has ever exempted me from having lewd comments flung at me in the street. ~ Beth Ditto,
221:I've had the same, full-time assistant and typist for eight or nine years now. She's read everything I've written, she types everything and does a good job, translates it and makes comments. ~ Kevin J Anderson,
222:We're not going to pay attention to the silliness and the petty comments. And quite frankly, women have joined me in this effort, and so it's not about appearances. It's about effectiveness. ~ Katherine Harris,
223:I think it’s going to set the world on fire,” said Gates. “It didn’t do anything. There are fifteen comments at the bottom of the piece on the Web, and all of them are Russian mail order brides. ~ Michael Lewis,
224:I think what I try to do with all the naysayers, negative comments, or even people that think you can't do it, I'm trying very hard to use it as motivation and to add to that chip on my shoulder. ~ Erin Andrews,
225:I've been impressed, over the last 15 years, with how often the somewhat conspiratorial comments of Haitian villagers have been proven to be correct when the historical record is probed carefully. ~ Paul Farmer,
226:The Facebook window was still open. There had been three more comments since she last looked. Two more God-be-with-you wishes. And one in all caps that read, “HOW DOES IT FEEL NOW, COLLEEN? ~ Sophie Littlefield,
227:Python “best practice” rule of thumb is to use docstrings for functional documentation (what your objects do) and hash-mark comments for more micro-level documentation (how arcane bits of code work). ~ Mark Lutz,
228:incomplete and slow, people depended on a brand’s imprimatur for quality assurance. In the book business, the average number of stars on Amazon and the first few comments that strangers have posted ~ Guy Kawasaki,
229:Donald Trump has been getting favorable comments from white supremacists, from American Nazis. And any explanation of Donald Trump`s rise that does not include those facts is a false analysis. ~ Lawrence O Donnell,
230:Flash grenades—a weapon used in China. Ingrid shivered as Cy’s comments suddenly made sense. Chinatown was so close. She was so close to the Chinese, to Lee and Jiao. So close, and so oblivious. Despite ~ Beth Cato,
231:The comments you'll get from a filmmaker about your performance are going to be very different. My writing workshop is about mixing it up, cross-pollinating, not only in genres but in occupations. ~ Sandra Cisneros,
232:When you write an article about anything, trolls use the comments to attack. They feel frustrated - but haters are losers. It's not good to feed this aspect. It's more intelligent to be constructive. ~ Paulo Coelho,
233:Some of the soldiers made disparaging comments about the fact that he was a womanform when they thought he couldn’t hear them. But his fellow officers were civil about it, which was all he cared about. ~ Yoon Ha Lee,
234:I'd like to understand why it seems normal to look at astonishing achievements made by unapproachably ambitious, luminously pious, strangely obsessed artists, and toss them off with a few wry comments. ~ James Elkins,
235:It wrote me “helpful” comments about each of the rooms I was going through, like, “This is the Room of Eternal Death. It’s like the Room of Normal Death, but somewhat more repetitive.” That sort of thing. ~ Andrew Rowe,
236:I want to speak, show, see, and hear outrageously astute questions and comments. I want to be on the sides of pleasure and laughter and to disrupt the dour certainties of pictures, property, and power. ~ Barbara Kruger,
237:Sometimes I go and I'll look at people's comments and then responses, covers, choreography and fan videos and after a couple hours it's like, uhhh this is a little like...I'm like don't indulge in right now. ~ Jhene Aiko,
238:So many letters to the editor and comments on the Internet have this same tone of thrilled vindication: these are people who have been vigilantly on the lookout for something to be offended by, and found it. ~ Tim Kreider,
239:I had thought a good mother would not elicit such comments, but now I see that a good mother is required to somehow absorb all this ugliness and find a way to fall back in love with her child the next day. ~ Kelly Corrigan,
240:Iran has made vile comments, anti-Semitic comments, comments about the destruction of Israel. It is precisely for that reason that even before I became president, I said Iran could not have a nuclear weapon. ~ Barack Obama,
241:I remember saying to someone when I got one of those ‘don’t do it’ [comments] – I just remember hearing my voice being calm and saying, ‘No, it’s going happen. It’s going to happen. I’m just letting you know.’ ~ T R Knight,
242:Feelings can be real but fickle...When we speak based on facts, not on our feelings alone, we temper and restrict our comments before hitting send...[G]ood communicators confirm their feelings with facts. ~ Emerson Eggerichs,
243:Making her laugh was the best, like winning a prize. I found myself making funny little comments on a regular basis, trying to amuse her. I was a rat pulling levers, hoping a food pellet would come my way. ~ Karen McQuestion,
244:People focus on the darker female characters in my books, but for every one of those, I can also show you an equally screwed up man that no one ever comments about, or a nicer woman that no one comments about. ~ Gillian Flynn,
245:After Donald Trump's derogatory comments about immigrants, NBC has officially cancelled Celebrity Apprentice. Think about it: Donald Trump isn't even president yet, and he's already made America a better place! ~ Conan O Brien,
246:If there is a serious outbreak in the UK I doubt voters will risk a Labour government. Time to get serious... Look at Diane Abbott's irresponsible comments on Ebola patients, Mili's open border policy. No. Way. ~ Louise Mensch,
247:In all the co-temporary discussions and comments, which the Constitution underwent, it was constantly justified and recommended on the ground, that the powers not given to the government, were withheld from it. ~ James Madison,
248:This man (FreddieMercury) truly possessed the greatest voice in the history of rock. Journalists, culture experts and analysts have already made several hundred comments on this topic and nothing can be added here. ~ Brian May,
249:Women have said the most malicious, disgusting things about me. But I know that when somebody comments about you, good or bad, it is 99 percent of the time their projection of how they feel about themselves. ~ Paz de la Huerta,
250:In the Forest,’ comments Mr. Crawfford, ‘ev’ryone comes ‘round in a Circle sooner or later. One day, your foot comes down in your own shit. There, as the Indians say, is the first Step upon the Trail to Wisdom. ~ Thomas Pynchon,
251:Look at Mann's reading habits, his explicit comments on Nietzsche, and his copy of Birth of Tragedy, and it starts to seem doubtful that this work of Nietzsche's played much role in the gestation of the novella. ~ Philip Kitcher,
252:Marx was angry at the many deviations it contained from what he considered to be scientific socialism. He wrote a set of critical comments on the Program, and attempted to circulate it among German socialist leaders. ~ Anonymous,
253:They made comments about the women's legs, but, as they were not witty, their remarks had no finesse. Since their emotion was not torn by any point, they quite naturally skidded along on a stagnent ground of poetry. ~ Jean Genet,
254:I promoted myself on Twitter and Facebook as hard as possible, nonstop. People started realizing that if they commented on my videos, I'd reply to their comment, so I started getting a lot more views and comments. ~ Austin Mahone,
255:comments, nasty words, flying criticisms, and awful accusations. We can even use silence as a weapon. When we give someone the cold shoulder, we may hold in our words, but we’re spewing out our feelings all the same. ~ Karen Ehman,
256:It's a mistake, you know. You have no idea what you'll be exposed to...the obscenities and lewd comments, the lecherous gazes, the groping and pinching...and that's just my house. Imagine what it would be like here. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
257:Anonymous blog comments, vapid video pranks and lightweight mash-ups may seem trivial and harmless, but as a whole, this widespread practice of fragmentary, impersonal communication has demeaned personal interaction. ~ Jaron Lanier,
258:Don’t grab hurtful comments and pull them close to you by rereading them and ruminating on them. Don’t play with them by rehearsing your badass comeback. And whatever you do, don’t pull hatefulness close to your heart. ~ Bren Brown,
259:If the comments are wrong, there is really nothing for you to be upset about. On the other hand, if the criticism is accurate, there is still no reason for you to feel overwhelmed. You’re not expected to be perfect. ~ David D Burns,
260:the founder embraced the button only when new data revealed it as a powerful source of behavioral surplus that helped to ratchet up the magnetism of the Facebook News Feed, as measured by the volume of comments.34 ~ Shoshana Zuboff,
261:I do not mean to object to a thorough knowledge of the famous works we read. I object only to the interminable comments and bewildering criticisms that teach but one thing: there are as many opinions as there are men. ~ Helen Keller,
262:It’s a mistake, you know. You have no idea of what you’ll be exposed to…the obscenities and lewd comments, the lecherous gazes, the groping and pinching…and that’s just at my house. Imagine what it would be like here. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
263:People must have affirmation and praise in order to maintain a high level of performance. Withholding negative or critical comments is not nearly as important as giving positive input through compliments and praise. ~ John C Maxwell,
264:I think fantasy is best described as a kind of fiction that evokes wonder, mystery or magic, a sense of possibility beyond the ordinary world in which we live, and yet which reflects and comments upon that known world. ~ Kate Forsyth,
265:You expect to cop a bit wherever you go. In the past there hasn't been any racism or any racist comments that I've seen. I'm expecting a tough time, as we get everywhere we go, but racism hasn't been a problem before. ~ Glenn McGrath,
266:Ken was Mary's new boyfriend, a nice guy who made all their friends comments, "Oh, there he is. That's what she's been waiting for," as if finding your perfect match was a guarantee as long as you were patient enough. ~ Jennifer Close,
267:The Internet is manic. It's very strange. I don't think it's healthy. They should outlaw posting comments! It's a bummer to go somewhere to get information or buy tickets and you encounter profanity everywhere you go. ~ Sufjan Stevens,
268:We live in an increasingly sophisticated world that makes it difficult to make simple comments on stuff. There are too many people on both sides of the border who are taking advantage of circumstances and the situation. ~ Arlo Guthrie,
269:You know, comments about style always seem strange to me - 'why do you work in this style, or in that style' - as if you had a choice in the matter... What you're doing is trying to stay alive and continue and not die. ~ Philip Guston,
270:Anderson [Cooper]first of all, in case anybody's wondering because they'll somehow read my mind after this broadcast ... I find those comments to be disgusting and reprehensible, and I'm really glad that he apologized. ~ Anderson Cooper,
271:And if I wasn't able to bar anger, or her insidious cousin, irritation, From my heart, at least some of the time I bit back the sharp comments that I had prided myself on dispensing so freely all these years. ~ Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni,
272:Many people have accused me of such ferocious cruelty that (they allege) I would like to kill again the man I have destroyed. Not only am I indifferent to their comments, but I rejoice in the fact that they spit in my face. ~ John Calvin,
273:Which ones scared you, made comments, touched you, and asked you out? I want a list.” “Did you not hear anything I just said?” My brow creases with my fiercest frown. “Do not interfere.” “Heard it. Processed it. Ignoring ~ Sarah Castille,
274:How much do I really love Him? Enough to overlook the mistakes other people make? Enough to disregard the hurtful comments they speak? Enough to esteem others better than myself as God commands me to do in Philippians 2:3? ~ Denise K Loock,
275:People who promote the free market and growth are far more romantic, and far more ideologically driven and blinded by their vision than somebody who goes in and comments about the beauty of a forest or the stars in the sky. ~ Arundhati Roy,
276:It's going to be difficult for [Donald] Trump to overcome the deep first impression that he gave to the Latino community with his comments right out of the gate about Mexican immigrants, with his comments about Judge Curiel. ~ Julian Castro,
277:You are never responsible for the actions of others; you are only responsible for you. When you truly understand this, and refuse to take things personally, you can hardly be hurt by the careless comments or actions of others. ~ Miguel Ruiz,
278:That’s the vast majority of this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. And besides that, it’s fucking dorky. ~ Dave Eggers,
279:People don't understand that when I'm on the show I'm totally relaxed, hanging out, having a fun time, watching videos, and being goofy. Sometimes I say stupid comments, just being funny, and people think I'm a dumb person. ~ Chanel West Coast,
280:When someone comments on my weight, I have to work hard to stand in front of the mirror and say, "This is who you are. You're okay in this lady, and you're a great, healthy, lovable and loving person." I try to accept myself. ~ Rosie O Donnell,
281:I know you are incredibly bright, because when you are not being a smartarse your comments in class are very insightful, and when you ARE being a smartarse you are witty and clever and you make me laugh even when I want to slap you. ~ Amy Harmon,
282:When I take up one of Jane Austen's books ... I feel like a barkeep entering the kingdom of heaven. I know what his sensation would be and his private comments. He would not find the place to his taste, and he would probably say so. ~ Mark Twain,
283:However, there are still two places where one may find calls for adherence to this rule. The first is in Internet comments. This is unsurprising, as these frequently serve as bastions for the ill-informed and bilious of many stripes. ~ Ammon Shea,
284:I think the biggest thing to do - especially if you're a woman trying to succeed in a male-dominated industry - is to just study as much you can and get ready for negativity, backlash, and comments. There's going to be a ton of it. ~ Erin Andrews,
285:The people I grew up around who I really liked were quick on the draw. It always just wowed me. And my mum would make weird funny comments. I can see in myself her self-deprecating, hippie humour. I can't take myself too seriously. ~ Drew Barrymore,
286:When I was younger, I definitely did face anti-ginger prejudice. As a child, all teasing hurts, whether it's because you're fat or a different race or have red hair. I had enough comments from a couple of people to make it a sore point. ~ Lily Cole,
287:When the scientific experts finished giving their testimony, the presiding judge asked Van Meegeren if he had any comments...He then added dryly that, from now on, the faking of old-master paintings would, of course, be impossible. ~ Jonathan Lopez,
288:The British press have written some nasty and spiteful things about the way I look which used to affect me quite badly when it was new to me but luckily, I've learned to ignore the comments. why do they even care about how I look? ~ Melanie Chisholm,
289:I read reviews a lot for the audiobooks I narrate, so I’ve seen the comments about how readers would do anything to make book boyfriends real. Here I am, convinced I’m standing in the arms of one, and I’m about to walk away from him. ~ Colleen Hoover,
290:It is often we come the closest to the essence of an artist... in his or her pocket notebooks and travel sketchbooks... where written comments and personal notes provide an intimate insight into the magical mind of a working artist. ~ Eugene Delacroix,
291:The comments by the Leader of the Labour Party [Jeremy Corbyn] at the launch, however they were intended, are themselves offensive, and rather than rebuilding trust among the Jewish community, are likely to cause even greater concern. ~ Ephraim Mirvis,
292:The pages were dog-eared, and heavily annotated in Karla's own hand. (...) She consumed her books, I saw. She devoured her books, and was unafraid to mark them, even to scar them, with her own comments and system of references. ~ Gregory David Roberts,
293:Despite his explicit and repeated disavowal of anti-Semitism, LaHaye has made odd comments about Jews, saying to Slate.com journalist Jeffrey Goldberg, “Some of the greatest evil in the history of the world was concocted in the Jewish mind. ~ Russ Kick,
294:Donald Trump talks us down. He makes disparaging comments about America. He calls our military a disaster. Well, it's not, but it might have been if everybody else had failed to pay taxes to support our brave men and women in uniform. ~ Hillary Clinton,
295:If the book is second-hand, I leave all its markings intact, the spoor of previous readers, fellow-travellers who have recorded their passage by means of scribbled comments, a name on the fly-leaf, a bus ticket to mark a certain page. ~ Alberto Manguel,
296:The most fundamental attack on freedom is the attack on critical thinking skills. Comments display our universal failure to teach and value critical thinking, leaving the possibility open that both everything and nothing could be true. ~ Travis Nichols,
297:If someone should ask, "how should an Opposition function?" the best answer would be, "in the manner of a traditional mother-in-law who watches the performance of household work by a daughter-in-law and follows her about with her comments. ~ R K Narayan,
298:The writer, Katherine Anne Porter, comments in her Notebooks that “[o]ne of the most disturbing habits of the human mind is its willful and destructive forgetting of whatever in its past does not flatter or confirm its present point of view. ~ Anonymous,
299:When I had to say something that I didn't like to Turkey, but of which I was sure, I said it, with the consequences that you all know [Editor's note: a reference to his comments on the Armenian Genocide]. I said these words ... I was sure ~ Pope Francis,
300:Irrationally, Mosca felt she should have inherited her father’s intimate knowledge of Mandelion. His throwaway comments about the city should have magically meshed in her mind, giving her a faultless instinct for finding her way around. ~ Frances Hardinge,
301:The World Wide Web is precisely what we were trying to PREVENT. We long ago foresaw the problems of one-way links, links that break (no guaranteed long-term publishing), no way to publish comments, no version management, no rights management. ~ Ted Nelson,
302:And once I realized that code I write never fucking goes away and I'm going to be a maintainer for life. I get comments about blog posts that are almost 10 years old. "Hey, I found this code. I found a bug," and I'm suddenly maintaining code. ~ Peter Seibel,
303:Roy received my comments with a forced smile. "Hardy, didn't I warn you not to date a woman who reads?" Hardy seemed amused by my outspokenness. "Keeps the arguing to a minimum," he replied. "No point in trying when I know she's going to win. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
304:If you hear an expert talking about the Internet and saying it [does] this, or it will do that, you should treat it with the same skepticism that you might treat the comments of an economist about the economy or a weatherman about the weather. ~ Danny Hillis,
305:I did not ask for objections, but for comments, or helpful suggestions. I looked for more loyalty from you, Captain Hornblower.' That made the whole argument pointless. If Leighton only wanted servile agreement there was no sense in continuing. ~ C S Forester,
306:His mouth spewed out a gigantic waterfall of stupid comments on a regular basis, but he'd always said them on purpose. Being an accidental dullard was something new. Did sudden celebrity turn one into an idiot? It would certainly explain a lot... ~ Jeff Strand,
307:John Calvin comments on today’s passage: “God is only rightly served when his law is obeyed. It is not left to every man to frame a system of religion according to his own judgment, but the standard of godliness is to be taken from the Word of God. ~ Anonymous,
308:Truth is wider, greater than her forms.
A thousand icons they have made of her
And find her in the idols they adore;
But she remains herself and infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art, Comments on Specific Lines and Passages of the Poem,
309:A well informed public opinion is essential to the growth of political and social awareness. Only he who is informed can comment intelligently on his nation's development and only by such comments can errors be corrected and progress stimulated ~ Haile Selassie,
310:[Cat] found a complete set of the works of Edgar Allan Poe, with little tabs of paper sticking out. The were scrawled over with the witch's comments to herself, "Fun!" "Try this, but with exploding feathers!" and "Gotta love him -- deeply sick. ~ Gregory Maguire,
311:The comments I most appreciate come from ordinary readers who've happened on one of my books at some time of stress in their lives, and who actually credit the book with helping them through a bad time. It's happened a few times in forty years. ~ Fred Saberhagen,
312:Man you can define; but the true essence of any man, say, for instance, of Abraham Lincoln, remains the endlessly elusive and mysterious object of the biographer's interest, of the historian's comments, of popular legend, and of patriotic devotion. ~ Josiah Royce,
313:Read the book through, undeterred and undismayed by the paragraphs, footnotes, comments, and references that escape you. If you let yourself get stalled, if you allow yourself to be tripped up by any one of these stumbling blocks, you are lost. ~ Mortimer J Adler,
314:Roy received my comments with a forced
smile. "Hardy, didn't I warn you not to date a woman who reads?"
Hardy seemed amused by my outspokenness. "Keeps the arguing to a minimum," he replied. "No point in trying when I know she's going to win. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
315:If you want to correct their “articulate” comments, you will often be met with, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!” Ma’am. Sir. How did you mean it? Have you ever given a white colleague a pat on the back for knowing how to speak in complete sentences? ~ Luvvie Ajayi,
316:Check out the comments underneath,” Augie says. I move the cursor down. “There are over fifty thousand of them.” “Just click ‘Top Comments’ and read a few.” I do as he asks. And as always when reading a comments section, my faith in humanity plummets: ~ Harlan Coben,
317:She wished she could give Isabel a shield, like the ones riot police held, to protect her from male attention, that feeling of being scored each time you walked down a street, the demeaning comments yelled out of cars, that casual sweep of the eyes. ~ Liane Moriarty,
318:Those comments were borne of depression and sadness and my desire to make someone else feel as badly as I did. I get very snarky when I’m upset, which some people find endearing in a weird way but it usually ends up making me disappointed in myself. ~ Cecilia London,
319:I did not ask for objections, but for comments, or helpful suggestions. I looked for more loyalty from you, Captain Hornblower.'

That made the whole argument pointless. If Leighton only wanted servile agreement there was no sense in continuing... ~ C S Forester,
320:The Bible, of course, for aside from religion there is much to be learned of men and their ways in the Bible. It is also a source of comments made of references and figures of speech. No man could consider himself educated without some knowledge of it. ~ Louis L Amour,
321:It is the news that introduces us to a far wider range of human beings than we could ever meet in person, and that over time, through the stories it runs and the way it comments on them, forms an idea in our minds about the kind of country we live in. ~ Alain de Botton,
322:Jax looked at him, full-on. “If you have something to say about Lady Kellington, be plain about it. But I would warn you; since I intend to marry the woman, you are speaking about my wife. I will not take kindly to negative or disrespectful comments. ~ Kathryn Le Veque,
323:Society is far too caught up in shaming a woman for enjoying sex and applauding a man. I mean, all of the comments are about how Lara Jean is a slut, but nobody's saying anything about Peter, and he's right there with her. It's a ridiculous double standard. ~ Jenny Han,
324:Society is far too caught up in shaming a woman for enjoying sex and applauding a man. I mean, all of the comments are about how Lara Jean is a slut, but nobody’s saying anything about Peter, and he’s right there with her. It’s a ridiculous double standard. ~ Jenny Han,
325:Earlier this week, Marlon Brando met with Jewish leaders to apologize for comments he made on Larry King Live, among them that “Hollywood is run by Jews.” The Jewish leaders accepted the actor’s apology and announced that Brando is now free to work again. ~ Norm Macdonald,
326:Often when someone comes to you and wants to vent, it's so tempting to start giving advice. But if you allow the person just to let the feelings out, and then at another time come back with advice or comments, that person would experience a deeper healing. ~ Oprah Winfrey,
327:the insensitivity comes with self-excuses, such as: “I am an upfront person who speaks my mind,” or “I am the frank type; you always know where you stand with me.” These comments are a cover-up for insensitivity, which might be better described as gauche. ~ David R Hawkins,
328:I often feel caught in a dilemma: on the one hand I wish to be more natural with you and yet, on the other hand, because I feel that you’re easily wounded and that you give my comments inordinate power, I feel I must consider my wording very, very carefully. ~ Irvin D Yalom,
329:It had also become harder to discuss this with his colleagues. All too often Sammy’s speeches about the importance of good neighborhoods and schools were met only with dismissive comments. It was self-evident, it was written on every wall, they seemed to say, ~ Kjell Eriksson,
330:physicist Paul Davies comments, nonlinear systems “possess the remarkable ability to leap spontaneously from relatively featureless states to those involving complex cooperative behavior.”5 And those behaviors? They can be as different as water to ice. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
331:I left wide margins. In the left-hand one I noted any mannerisms, expressions and gestures that seemed to add something to her meaning. The right-hand margin I left blank. Later, rereading, it was here that I would enter my own thoughts, comments, questions. ~ Diane Setterfield,
332:Diane never really spoke to Evan at work. She had seen him many times. They had shared comments at birthday and pinata parties like "Good cake, right?" or "Champagne at work! Great!" or "The sky seemed especially vast and unending this morning." The usual chitchat. ~ Joseph Fink,
333:Dreams are not comments on the day world, or censored versions of re-enacted childhood dramas, but self-representations of an interior reality. If we can think in terms of inner space, peopled by symbolic figures and mythic forces, we have begun to think like Jung. ~ David Tacey,
334:I have done a bit of recording and the songs are available on iTunes, and I've got some nice comments. It's something I enjoy doing, but I'm not looking for a singing career any time soon. As long as one person gets enjoyment out of it, I'm happy to make it available. ~ Tom Felton,
335:You come across [online comments] about yourself and about your friends, and it's a very dehumanizing thing,It's almost like how, in war, you go through this bloody, dehumanizing thing ... My hope is, as we get out of it, we'll reach the next level of conscience. ~ Gwyneth Paltrow,
336:Archbishop Romero of El Salvador was a member of the Salvadoran aristocracy. He could not have risen to the top of the church hierarchy otherwise. But after he began voicing critical remarks about the war and concerned comments about the poor, he was assassinated. ~ Michael Parenti,
337:Do you really think you are going to change anyone’s mind? I always wonder, who are these people who spend all day on Internet message boards and comments sections getting really angry and trying to prove that their opinion is THE opinion that everyone should have. ~ James Altucher,
338:Comments about appearance belittle women professionally. Sadly, that's the culture we still live in. We need to start trying to change it by calling out undercutting remarks and educating our peers, but we also have to find a way to navigate the current reality. ~ Kirsten Gillibrand,
339:I never said I wasn’t Black… I want to make that very clear. I said, I am not African-American. I never expected my personal beliefs and comments to spark such emotion in people. I think it is only positive when we can openly discuss race and being labeled in America. ~ Raven Symone,
340:What are some of the things your last employer could have done to be more successful? Does the applicant offer a long list of items and appear to feel he could have run things better than management did? Are his comments constructive or angry? There is a follow-up: ~ Gavin de Becker,
341:I no longer have a deeply trusted, patient and abiding life partner to share all comments and observations about life’s passing parade. I don’t have her to share my confidences. There is nothing more precious than that. That deep sense of home in another person. Gone. ~ Frederick Marx,
342:News of the decision rocketed around social media, with 3.8 million people in the United States making 10.1 million related likes, posts, comments and shares on Facebook. In the four hours after the decision, Twitter recorded more than 6.2 million messages about the ruling. ~ Anonymous,
343:One of the most appalling comments on our present way of life is that half of all the beds in our hospitals are reserved for patients with nervous and mental troubles, patients who have collapsed under the crushing burden of accumulated yesterdays and fearful tomorrows. ~ Dale Carnegie,
344:And actually, Pa was wrong, because even if other people couldn’t take talent away from you, they could destroy your confidence with their negative comments and mess with your brain, so you didn’t know who you were any more or how to please anyone, least of all yourself. ~ Lucinda Riley,
345:[Among the Arapeh... both father and mother are held responsible for child care by the entire community...] If one comments upon a middle-aged man as good-looking, the people answer: 'Good-looking? Ye-e-e-s? But you should have seen him before he bore all those children'. ~ Margaret Mead,
346:I don't mind comments saying things about me. I do mind them saying things about those young, brave men and women who have volunteered. That's offensive to me that people would say those kind of comments about Americans who have volunteered to take the fight to the enemy. ~ George W Bush,
347:Then I frown to myself. All of my memories of Hemalo and I in a cave together are unpleasant ones, of me sniping at him or making angry comments. Of him trying to please me and me pushing away his help. Maybe I was never like that, after all. Perhaps I was never a good mate. ~ Ruby Dixon,
348:Whenever I can’t sleep, I like to lie in the darkness and pretend I’ve been assassinated. I’ve found this is the best way to get comfortable. I imagine I’m in the coffin at my funeral, and people from my past are walking by my corpse and making comments about my demise. ~ Chuck Klosterman,
349:As an adult I generally feel this pressure to be thin, not from men, but from other women. As a silent or not-so-silent competition, a constant monitoring of who's thinner, comments about it - either compliments or veiled insults doesn't matter - it always drives me nuts. ~ Kate Christensen,
350:****NOTE 6-30-2015 --Something weird is going on w/my GR profile. This one isn't attached to INTO THE DIM any more, and the one that is by INTO THE DIM doesn't have any of my friends/comments/info. Not to worry, GR is working on it!! In the meantime...CUPCAKES FOR ALL!!**** ~ Janet B Taylor,
351:In her mind’s eye, the days and weeks of her time with Julian at the café returned to her: bits of conversations, strange comments, questions unanswered and topics diverted. A pointillism painting she’d been standing too close to; none of it made sense. Now, if she stepped back… ~ Emma Scott,
352:I think all Internet comments should be disengaged. But I kind of live and die by it. It's completely irresistible. It's not like comedy. When I do a podcast or write an episode of TV, I have no feedback for that. That's the only way you know what you're doing is good or bad. ~ Harris Wittels,
353:That's why when Peter started talking to me in homeroom this morning, i soaked up his attention like a doughnut dipped in coffee. The fact that his comments have left me soggy and wilted doesn't matter. That's the price you pay when you withdraw to the safety of anonymity ~ Randa Abdel Fattah,
354:Sproul. These were discussed in a number of ways by groups of delegates from the Advisory Board and in various partial and plenary sessions at the summit. Furthermore, written comments were solicited and received in considerable numbers. A Draft Committee composed of Drs. Clowney, ~ R C Sproul,
355:Stop drifting. You’re not going to re-read your Brief Comments, your Deeds of the Ancient Greeks and Romans, the commonplace books you saved for your old age. Sprint for the finish. Write off your hopes, and if your well-being matters to you, be your own savior while you can. ~ Marcus Aurelius,
356:A lot of people say, "Ah, Rush, don't read the comments. You can't. This is loony..." You can't ignore this stuff. These people vote, and they are huge in number, and every social media app you can find from Twitter to Facebook, to LinkedIn, whatever the hell it is, they dominate. ~ Rush Limbaugh,
357:The slave-trade and slavery were the economic basis of the French Revolution. ‘Sad irony of human history,’ comments Jaurès. ‘The fortunes created at Bordeaux, at Nantes, by the slave-trade, gave to the bourgeoisie that pride which needed liberty and contributed to human emancipation. ~ C L R James,
358:I'm sure you know by now, Jesse Jackson was overheard saying, and I'll put this more delicately, that he wanted to cut Barack Obama's testicles off. And Jesse has been on several news programs the last couple of days, explaining what he meant by those comments. Do you need to explain that? ~ Jay Leno,
359:Since Thor wasn't there to creatively cuss, Sam did the honors, muttering a few comments that I doubted her grandparents would've approved of.
"Those are just expressions," I added hastily. "In no way was my friend giving you permission to do...any of those rude and colorful things. ~ Rick Riordan,
360:Rather would I have the love songs of romantic ages, rather Don Juan and Madame Venus, rather an elopement by ladder and rope on a moonlight night, followed by the father's curse, mother's moans, and the moral comments of neighbors, than correctness and propriety measured by yardsticks. ~ Emma Goldman,
361:There it was again - the perverse refusal to acknowledge my hostility. She seemed to me like some magical lake in a fairy tale: nothing could disturb the mirror-calm of her surface. My snide comments and bitter jokes disappeared soundlessly into her depths, leaving not so much as a ripple. ~ Zo Heller,
362:It's really important that we stop body shaming people online and on social media. The rude comments under pictures, comparing women in "who looks better" posts - all that does is force us to judge each other. It only sets us back and women, now more than ever, need to empower each other. ~ Ashley Graham,
363:This is old school Drive-By Media treatment: take my comments out of context; play 'em for people on the street; go interview the obligatory feminazi, roll video from 1988 of me, and the end of the story then pops up. This is how to media operated, folks, before their monopoly was broken. ~ Rush Limbaugh,
364:Upon further reflection, and after meeting with the President of MSNBC, I have tendered my resignation. It is my sincere hope that all of my colleagues, at this special network, will be allowed to focus on the issues that matter without the distraction of myself or my ill-judged comments. ~ Martin Bashir,
365:I knew people would kill to be able to eat whatever they wanted and not gain an ounce- but it wasn't like it didn't irritate me. Maybe I wanted boobs. Waybe I wanted a little junk in my trunk. Maybe I didn't want old ladies to make comments at the grocery store about me starving myself. ~ Nicole Jacquelyn,
366:Consider these current rough estimates: Each day, we compose 154 billion e-mails, more than 500 million tweets on Twitter, and over 1 million blog posts and 1.3 million blog comments on WordPress alone. On Facebook, we write about 16 billion words per day. That’s just in the United States: ~ Clive Thompson,
367:I don't pay attention. I don't read stuff or message boards because you definitely get affected. You can read a hundred great comments, amazing comments, and have one bad one and that is all you can focus on and it wrecks your day. It says something about negativity and how it draws us somehow. ~ Joan Jett,
368:When the weaver bird flies, nobody talks; when the busy bee flies, no one will make comments... But when a human being begins to fly, you begin to hear talks in the town such as "abomination!... where did he get the wings from?". Never mind! Your dreams are your wings, so decide to fly! ~ Israelmore Ayivor,
369:It’s starting, Cecilia had thought sadly. She wished she could give Isabel a shield, like the ones riot police held, to protect her from male attention, that feeling of being scored each time you walked down a street, the demeaning comments yelled out of cars, that casual sweep of the eyes. ~ Liane Moriarty,
370:My intellect, my wit—I’d forgotten I’d even possessed them, and they were dull and neglected, to be sure. But in the company of others who prized thought over action, laughter over brooding, they blossomed and sharpened. My tongue fairly tripped with sparkling phrases, insightful comments. ~ Melanie Benjamin,
371:Presidential campaign observer Teddy White on the second Kennedy-Nixon debate in which the candidates spoke from separate television studios: "It was as if, separated by comments from his adversary, Richard Nixon was more at ease and could speak directly to the nation that lay between them. ~ David Pietrusza,
372:Ray, twenty-eight, comments on what it’s like to have a relationship when you compete with screens: “I think the way we’re going, a lot of people are getting the feeling that even though the person they’re with is there, you don’t get the feeling of real connection. You just have information. ~ Sherry Turkle,
373:The writer Denise Chávez comments on poor food and what you associate with luxury food items. In fact, she wrote a whole book called A Taco Testimony, and though the title sounds light, it's a heavy book. It's about being working class and what kind of food is available to you that's cheap. ~ Sandra Cisneros,
374:I think I'm misunderstood when I post these comments about films. So here is Kate Winslet sitting on - you know, laying on this plank. This ship is down. She let her boyfriend drown. They didn't even try a second time to get him to float on that with her. So I'm angry by that. I think... ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson,
375:I was making Marvel Studios movies, Amy Pascal was running Sony. Occasionally, she would share drafts with certain people at the studio and I would read them, and see cuts of the movies. But what I've learned with is that I'm no help whatsoever giving passive comments on other people's projects. ~ Kevin Feige,
376:When a couple decides to divorce, they should inform both sets of parents before having a party and telling all their friends. This is not only courteous but practical. Parents may be very willing to pitch in with comments, criticism, and malicious gossip of their own to help the divorce along. ~ P J O Rourke,
377:Many jocular comments followed, as did another onslaught of Heil Hitlering. You know, it actually makes me wonder if anyone ever lost an eye or injured a hand or wrist with all of that. You’d only need to be facing the wrong way at the wrong time, or stand marginally too close to another person. ~ Markus Zusak,
378:I don't read all the junk. I joke if I did, I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning. But, Sometimes the comments over the top - really ugly. Many of them are critical of my looks, like the one that criticized my "thunder thighs." I get that a lot. Some of the tweets are too vulgar to repeat. ~ Gretchen Carlson,
379:all this stuff you’re involved in, it’s all gossip. It’s people talking about each other behind their backs. That’s the vast majority of this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. ~ Dave Eggers,
380:As when on some secluded branch in forest far and wide sits perched an owl, who, full of self-conceit and self-created wisdom, explains, comments, condemns, ordains and order things not understood, yet full of importance still holds forth to stocks and stones around - so sits and scribbles Mike. ~ Michael Faraday,
381:The mere fact that my comments have caused such strong protests, although I'm not a European, and also the fact that I have been compared with certain persons in German history indicates how charged with conflict the atmosphere for research is in your country. Here in Iran you needn't worry. ~ Mahmoud Ahmadinejad,
382:When the handsome and confident speaker bounds onto the stage, for example, you can anticipate that the audience will judge his comments more favorably than he deserves. The availability of a diagnostic label for this bias—the halo effect—makes it easier to anticipate, recognize, and understand. ~ Daniel Kahneman,
383:Achchan would make these random comments, just interject them into the silence. Like, “Oh! Bob’s Air-Conditioning!” because he’d literally seen a billboard and wanted to talk about it since that was better than what was going on in the car. Sweetie would’ve laughed if she hadn’t been so pissed off. ~ Sandhya Menon,
384:Honestly, Tabitha, the sooner your novel is written and published the better,” Claire said crispl, seeing Barney was made uncomfortable by these comments. “No more talking about Barney’s faint. He’s better now – that’s the main thing.”

“Ok- let’s talk about funerals,” Tabitha replied at once. ~ Margaret Mahy,
385:I expected Candy to pick a different rental house. The little yellow one always gets positive comments from broads. Instead, she chose the blocky, brick house. It’s the kind of house I’d have picked. Like the fuckwit I’ve become, I take her choice as a sign that she and I are made for each other. “Why ~ Bijou Hunter,
386:Margot smiles. “Your comments are always thoughtful and smart. You seem really steady and calm, and not swayed by people’s disagreements and emotions and everything.”
“But I’m too quiet,” Grace says.
“You don’t have to be loud to be a leader,” Margot says. “People respect you. That’s what’s important. ~ Amy Reed,
387:Despite obligatory comments about the importance of the middle class and why it should be helped, America’s ruling class doesn’t really care. They’ve moved on, having successfully created through globalization a world where the middle classes in China and India offer them far more opportunities to get rich. ~ Anonymous,
388:Ugh. Peeta makes comments like this in such an offhand way, and it's like being hit in the gut. He's only answering my question honestly. He's not pressing me to reply in kind, to make any declaration of love. But I still feel awful, as if I've been using him in some terrible way. Have I? I don't know. ~ Suzanne Collins,
389:Facebook’s news feed is a classic multiuser feedback loop. Status updates from producers are served to consumers, whose likes and comments serve as feedback to the producers. The constant flow of value units stimulates still more activity, making the platform increasingly valuable to all participants. ~ Geoffrey G Parker,
390:The comments on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter instantly switched from a small, friendly, supportive community to a selection of the loudest, most over-the-top opinions one could imagine. I was a traitor to my species. I was ultra-fuckable. I was a space alien. I was an ultra-fuckable space alien. And so on. ~ Hank Green,
391:Glad would he have been to know its fate who wrought it slowly long ago', comments the narrator; and his comment shows that the ancient smith was not glad, did not know, was condemned to defeat and death and oblivion in the barrows. Still, even after thousands of years hope should not be lost; nor relied on. ~ Tom Shippey,
392:Briefly, he tried to imagine any of his previous, male secretaries daring to comment on his appearance. It was impossible. In fact, he couldn’t think of anyone, save his current female secretary, who made such impertinent comments to him. Oddly, he found her impertinence endearing. Not that he let it show. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt,
393:We started out on the Internet, so I've been reading what people had to say about stuff since we were getting mean comments on iFilm, before we even had our site going. People are really, really rough on the web - that's their right, that's the whole point of it - but sometimes it can be a little bit brutal. ~ Andy Samberg,
394:Dear Reader, I hope you’re enjoying our time in Wolf Creek. I certainly am. I appreciate so much all your wonderful comments on the books so far. Lord willing, I’ll keep trying to write about imperfect people who may have lost their way but find it again, stories that uplift and resonate with you in some way. ~ Penny Richards,
395:My mother could see that as far as my father's relationship with the Party was concerned, she was an outsider. One day, when she ventured some critical comments about the situation and got no response from him, she said bitterly, "You are a good Communist, but a rotten husband!" My father nodded. He said he knew. ~ Jung Chang,
396:We saw, then, journalists and researchers being arrested. And so this is sort of the latest expansion they say - cultural targets where young people gather, where they exchange cultural and political ideas. So that may be one of the reasons, although the government hasn't made any public comments on these raids. ~ Leila Fadel,
397:BRANDS ARE LESS IMPORTANT. When information was incomplete and slow, people depended on a brand’s imprimatur for quality assurance. In the book business, the average number of stars on Amazon and the first few comments that strangers have posted are more important and visible on Amazon than the publisher’s name. ~ Guy Kawasaki,
398:I’ve been that girl, too big for the clothes in the store, just trying to find something, anything, that fits, while also dealing with the commentary of someone else who means well but can’t help but make pointed, insensitive comments. To be that girl in a clothing store is to be the loneliest girl in the world. I ~ Roxane Gay,
399:He's part of my family."

"You don't have a family, Ella."

Although I had made similar comments in the past, it rankled to hear him say it. "We're individuals bound by a pattern of reciprocal obligation," I said. "If a group of chimps in the Amazon can be called a family, I think the Varners qualify. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
400:It's one of the reasons [Vladimir Putin invitation to U.S] why 50 national security officials who served in Republican information - in administrations have said that Donald [Trump] is unfit to be the commander- in-chief. It's comments like that that really worry people who understand the threats that we face. ~ Hillary Clinton,
401:As children, very few of us have the capacity to fend off demeaning, negating comments, even the ones that are made without malice. Our work as adults is to make the choice to not pass those words on to our kids and to reject cruel or unthinking remarks about ourselves—to flick ’em off our shoulders like dandruff! ~ Chris Gardner,
402:So from now on, catch your mind in the act when it tries to hook you with these questions and comments. Then simply refuse to play the game. Thank your mind for trying to waste your time and focus instead on some useful or meaningful activity. You may find it helpful to say, “Thanks, Mind, but I’m not playing today. ~ Russ Harris,
403:I had to do a booth for my mom on Saturday. Every time someone from school walked past, I could see them on their cell phones typing so fast the hashtags and troll comments were almost floating above their heads. All because I was stupid enough to think Bennet Miller was interested in the books on my Goodreads list. ~ Amanda Ashby,
404:Use # as an introducer for comments. It is good to have a way to embed annotations and comments in data files. It’s best if they’re actually part of the file structure, and so will be preserved by tools that know its format. For comments that are not preserved during parsing, # is the conventional start character. ~ Eric S Raymond,
405:Beatbullying's 'The Big March 2012' is such a brilliant campaign and I am very proud to be a part of it. I have been a victim of cyber bullying myself and I know firsthand just how hurtful it can be. People think that they can hide behind computers and send nasty and hurtful comments to people, and this is wrong. ~ Katherine Jenkins,
406:My parents always have taught me 'you're good enough'. So, whenever I got bad comments from the judges, or I'd get on the Internet and read what bloggers have written about me, I would get so down, and I would get so sad. The biggest support group was obviously my parents, and I'd call them. And they'd build me up. ~ Carmen Rasmusen,
407:She spoke of these with animation, and heard my admiring comments with a smile of pleasure: that soon, however, vanished, and was followed by a melancholy sigh; as if in consideration of the insufficiency of all such baubles to the happiness of the human heart, and their woeful inability to supply its insatiate demands. ~ Anne Bront,
408:She also kept the books, logging in how many kids showed up each day, who they were, and any comments they might have. Mike and I averaged $ 9.50 per week over a three-month period. We paid his sister one dollar a week and allowed her to read the comics for free, which she rarely did since she was always studying. ~ Robert T Kiyosaki,
409:We sometimes hear people boast about their hurtful behavior: “I know I am outspoken and step on toes, but that's just the way I am!” Such people have never seriously considered the source of their offensive and divisive comments. If they did, they might be shocked to discover they were actually Satan's mouthpieces. ~ Henry T Blackaby,
410:Even a whole society,” Marx comments, “a nation, or even all simultaneously existing societies together, are not the owners of the globe. They are only its possessors, its usufructuaries, and like boni patres familias [good fathers of families] they must hand it down to succeeding generations in an improved condition. ~ Terry Eagleton,
411:Aside from infrequent comments ("Cheer up, love," or "It's not Hallo'ween"), no one wondered why a teenager was dressed up as a chic governess. Sylvie approved of Miri, even at the same time as she was confused by her. "It's a style at least," she said, and took off her rope of pearls and looped them around Miri's neck. ~ Helen Oyeyemi,
412:Marriage is not a priority for me. I'm not saying I'll never do it. It's just not where we are as a family . . . I'll be at home with my man, having a perfectly loving time, and I'll see all these comments on some site about how wrong I am for not being married. I don't feel less loved or less loving because I'm not married. ~ Nia Long,
413:Obviously, when I came to do the movie I knew that I was going to have to take my clothes off so I might have worked a little bit harder to keep myself fit. But I think that's the irony of it - you see all these fit and healthy people, and I'm not making any comments on it, but everybody deep down is a f**k up somewhere. ~ Daniel Craig,
414:In a sane system, a political article that generated thousands of comments would be an indicator that something went wrong. It means the conversation descended into an unproductive debate about abortion or immigration, or devolved into mere complaining. But in the broken world of the web, it is the mark of a professional. ~ Ryan Holiday,
415:Are you prepared to brave the negative reactions, comments, criticisms, and complaints that may arise from owning your authentic self? Can you handle it? Some people can’t. They live without expressing the authenticity of what abides deep within them because the approval of others is more important to them than self-approval. ~ T D Jakes,
416:A Man’s life of any worth is a continual allegory, and very few eyes can see the Mystery of his life—a life like the scriptures, figurative—which such people can no more make out than they can the Hebrew Bible. Lord Byron cuts a figure but he is not figurative—Shakspeare led a life of Allegory: his works are the comments on it ~ John Keats,
417:Elon is hard-core. He grew up in a tough culture and tough circumstances. He had to become very tough to not only thrive but to conquer the world. He doesn’t want to raise soft overprivileged kids with no direction.” Comments like these seemed to indicate that Justine still admired or at least understood Musk’s strong will.* ~ Ashlee Vance,
418:I think that's the real shame: We spent the last 48 hours talking about these disgusting, disgusting comments and disgusting behavior instead of talking about hurricane relief or what's going on in Flint, Michigan. It's just appalling to have to be dealing with such nonsense and such disgusting, you know, criminal speech. ~ Natalie Portman,
419:I got comments about being too small, too short, there haven't been any Asian players and who am I to go out there and turn pro before my 16th birthday? And that's all good and fine. People want to have their comments and their opinions. Ultimately, you do what you believe in your heart. I think for me, things turned out OK. ~ Michael Chang,
420:A useful decision or choice is to decide to stop mentally talking about everything and refrain from interjecting comments, opinions, preferences, and value statements. It is therefore a discipline to just watch without evaluating, investing worth in, editorializing, commenting, or having preferences about what is witnessed. ~ David R Hawkins,
421:If there's an article about sexual assault, if there's a video about feminism on YouTube, you're going to get the most horrible, disgusting comments ever. And sometimes the comments are pornographic, and sometimes the comments are really harassing. So I think that it's kind of a difficult place for women to write sometimes. ~ Jessica Valenti,
422:Lewes was waiting, always Lewes, making profound and idiotic comments on everything, and wanting to sit up half the night and reason. Reason! He was sick of reason. He wanted some one he could be romantic with, and sentimental with, and poetic, and—yes, religious with, if he felt like it, without having to feel ashamed. ~ Elizabeth von Arnim,
423:To which I’d like to append a variation on Lewis’s Law (“all comments on feminism justify feminism”): the plethora of men attacking women and anyone who stands up for women in order to prove that women are not under attack and feminism has no basis in reality are apparently unaware that they’re handily proving the opposite.  ~ Rebecca Solnit,
424:I am open to [the notion of theistic revelation], but not enthusiastic about potential revelation from God. On the positive side, for example, I am very much impressed with physicist Gerald Schroeder's comments on Genesis 1. That this biblical account might be scientifically accurate raises the possibility that it is revelation. ~ Antony Flew,
425:If I'm not mistaken, that relationship [of Barack Obama] with Mr.[Bill] Ayers on this board continued after 9/11 and after his reported comments, which were deeply hurtful to people in New York and, I would hope, to every American, because they were published on 9/11, and he said that he was just sorry they hadn't done more. ~ Hillary Clinton,
426:History records a great many foolish comments, such as, "it looks perfectly safe,” or “Indians? What Indians?” and Dogger added to the list with an old favourite which has caused more encyclopedias and life insurance policies to be sold than you would have thought possible.
“I suppose,” he said, “that you’d better come in. ~ Terry Pratchett,
427:I think her comments - Hillary's Clinton comments just don't get the same attention that Trump's do. For example, she lied to a Gold Star mother. She lied to pre - Patricia Smith, the mother of Sean Smith, who - who was killed at Benghazi, I believe, because of her incompetence, her incompetence in failing to secure that mission. ~ Rudy Giuliani,
428:First spouses, I have learned, don't ever really go away--even if you aren't speaking to them anymore. They are phantoms who dwell in the corners of our new love stories, never entirely vanishing from sight, materializing in our minds whenever they please, offering up unwelcome comments or bits of painfully accurate criticism. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert,
429:fossil fuels currently in the ground. His comments came in an interview that will air Monday as part of the final episode of Showtime's "Years of Living Dangerously." "Over the course of the next several decades, we’re going to have to build a ramp from how we currently use energy to where we need to use energy," Obama said, according ~ Anonymous,
430:Once you understand that everybody's going to get connected, a lot of things follow from that. If everybody gets the Internet, they end up with a browser, so they look at web pages - but they can also leave comments, create web pages. They can even host their own server! So not only is everybody consuming, they can also produce. ~ Marc Andreessen,
431:Critical comments by students should be taken in a friendly spirit,” he said. “Accumulation of material should not stifle the student’s independence.” A society’s competitive advantage will come not from how well its schools teach the multiplication and periodic tables, but from how well they stimulate imagination and creativity. ~ Walter Isaacson,
432:R—Rules are for a reason, obey them; E—Expect and return common courtesies; S—Show others you care; P—Put a lid on negative comments, even if you have them; E—Exhibit pride in yourself and let others have theirs; C—Consider the effect your words and actions have on others; T—Take what you need but give what others have to have, too. ~ Kathryn Shay,
433:She knew how the Chief Inspector preferred decorum at the site of a murder, especially in the presence of the corpse. It was rare. Most murder scenes were filled with smart-ass and often gruesome comments, made by men and women frightened by what they saw, and believing sarcasm and rude remarks kept the monsters at bay. They didn’t. ~ Louise Penny,
434:Yeah, I got the instructions straight from Seoras. That and a bunch of smart-ass comments about my education being sadly lacking and something about not knowing my arse from my ear or my elbow, and also something about me being a fanny, and I don't know what the hell that means."
"Fanny? Like a girl's name?"
"I don't think so . . . ~ P C Cast,
435:Don't you ever touch my car again," Santangelo says with the same fury he had on his face when Jonah Griggs made
comments about his mother.

Raffy touches the car with her finger in a very dramatic way.

"You've just made our hit list," he says, getting a hanky out of his pocket and cleaning off some imaginary mark. ~ Melina Marchetta,
436:Some of the comments that have been uttered about Islam do not reflect the sentiments of my government or the sentiments of most Americans. Islam, as practiced by the vast majority of people, is a peaceful religion, a religion that respects others. Ours is a country based upon tolerance and we welcome people of all faiths in America. ~ George W Bush,
437:Absolutists frighten me. During all the endless discussions on my blog about evolution, intelligent design, God, and the afterworld, numbering altogether thousands of comments, I have never named my beliefs, although readers have freely informed me that I am an atheist, and agnostic, or at the very least a secular humanist - which I am. ~ Roger Ebert,
438:Not that I wasn’t also having fun. Ripping the Defenders’ arguments to shreds and then reading all the comments agreeing passionately with me and electronically patting me on my cybershoulders was thrilling. It’s so much harder to actually define yourself and work to imagine the best possible future than it is to tear down others’ ideas. ~ Hank Green,
439:Whether it's your own material or somebody else's material, it's essential that you identify with it thoroughly. It's like you want to archive it; you want to freeze it in time in terms of your perspective on it, then move on, because folk music is that volatile and comments not only on overall human concerns but also on the specifics. ~ Paul Stookey,
440:Somebody said to me after Strive that there are three stages to life: youth, middle age, and ‘you’re looking well’! Sadly, it’s probably true. I found myself getting more ‘you’re looking well’ comments than usual after Strive. But the adventures we do as a family help keep me young, and give me another reason to stay fit and healthy. ~ Richard Branson,
441:In the wake of her indispensable textbook, Janet Burroway now offers a splendid and concise guide to the thorny task of revision. Writers, young and old, will feel encouraged and enlightened by this excellent DVD which offers a wonderful range of specific advice and suggestive comments from a group of experienced and thoughtful writers. ~ Margot Livesey,
442:Whenever there's an interview with me, I might read it, but I don't read the comments because they're so hateful sometimes. When someone writes something nasty, I just think, "If that's your contribution to my day, I really don't need your impoliteness." I'm lucky that people are very cool with me and I get a lot of love. I appreciate that. ~ Boy George,
443:In his book I Ain’t Much, Baby—But I’m All I Got, the psychologist Jess Lair comments: “Praise is like sunlight to the warm human spirit; we cannot flower and grow without it. And yet, while most of us are only too ready to apply to others the cold wind of criticism, we are somehow reluctant to give our fellow the warm sunshine of praise. ~ Dale Carnegie,
444:Some of [Donald Trump] comments can be interpreted as potentially reducing the threat of nuclear war. The major threat right now is right on the Russian border. Notice, not the Mexican border, the Russian border. And it's serious. He has made various statements moving towards reducing the tensions, accommodating Russian concerns and so on. ~ Noam Chomsky,
445:Still, women’s concerns about safety are frequently the subject of critical comments from the men in their lives. One woman told me of constant ridicule and sarcasm from her boyfriend whenever she discussed fear or safety. He called her precautions silly and asked, “How can you live like that?” To which she replied, “How could I not?” I ~ Gavin de Becker,
446:To Miss Cooper
Cousin,
Conscious of the Charming Character which in every Country, and every Clime in Christendom is Cried, Concerning you, with Caution and Care I Commend to your Charitable Criticism this Clever Collection of Curious Comments, which have been Carefully Culled, Collected and Classed by your Comical Cousin
The Author ~ Jane Austen,
447:I mean, all this stuff you're involved in, it's all gossip. It's people talking about each other behind their backs. That's the vast majority of this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. And besides that, it's fucking dorky. ~ Dave Eggers,
448:Piper reads the scripts, and we email a lot. Most of her comments are on the more technical side, like "This wouldn't happen. This is against the rules." She's been extremely respectful of our taking her story, and then veering left with it and taking it in its own direction. But, I always want her involved because she's the mother of all this. ~ Jenji Kohan,
449:Incivility can fracture a team, destroying collaboration, splintering members' sense of psychological safety, and hampering team effectiveness. Belittling and demeaning comments, insults, and other rude behavior can deflate confidence, sink trust, and erode helpfulness--even for those who aren't the target of these behaviors.'' -- Christine Porath ~ Bren Brown,
450:I mean, all this stuff you're involved in, it's all gossip. It's people talking about each other behind their backs. That's the vast majority of all this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. And besides that, it's fucking dorky. ~ Dave Eggers,
451:I watched relationships begin and end across those tables, children transferred between divorcees, the guilty relief of those parents who couldn’t face cooking, and the secret pleasure of pensioners at a fried breakfast. All human life came through, and most of them shared a few words with me, trading jokes or comments over the mugs of steaming tea ~ Jojo Moyes,
452:The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress.”
Pandora turned to Devon. “Lord Trenear, what do you think?”
“This is one of those times when it’s best for a man to avoid thinking altogether,” he said hastily. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
453:Do you think that the day you reach forty you will be any different than you were at thirty-nine or forty-one for that matter? People create little ideas about ages so they can write silly self-help books, stick stupid comments in birthday cards, create names for internet chat rooms and look for excuses for crises that are happening in their life. ~ Cecelia Ahern,
454:I once sneered at comments like, “He fell in love,” because I was always taught that love is action. I still believe that. But I now understood what people meant by the expression. You really are just living your everyday life, walking around, and then you trip. Just as you realize what’s happening, you’ve already fallen. It’s too late. ~ James Russell Lingerfelt,
455:Most of the jokes that I wrote were funny and there always seems to be an aspect of comedy in my long-form work. I think that's how life is. I think even the more dramatic moments of one's life are often punctuated by very funny comments or situations. I like to say, "Keep your comedy serious and your drama funny, and you'll be pretty true to life." ~ Victor Levin,
456:So does anyone have a good survival strategy, or is there no hope for getting out of this nightmare?’ asks the Colonel.

‘We came up with a big, fat zero. I don’t know how we’re going to survive the blood hunt,’ says Dee.

‘That wasn’t the nightmare I was referring to,’ says the Colonel. ‘Death by stupid comments is what I was talking about. ~ Susan Ee,
457:So does anyone have a good survival strategy, or is there no hope for getting out of this nightmare?’ asks the Colonel.

���We came up with a big, fat zero. I don’t know how we’re going to survive the blood hunt,’ says Dee.

‘That wasn’t the nightmare I was referring to,’ says the Colonel. ‘Death by stupid comments is what I was talking about. ~ Susan Ee,
458:You can't take anything online personally, especially if it is negative. You can have 10 positive comments, but the one negative comment will get to you. I learned you have to stay focused on the people who love and support you.... Remember that hate comments can be a cry for help or attention. I recommend not responding at all, but if you do, be kind. ~ Bethany Mota,
459:For every child of an illegal immigrant who's a valedictorian, there's another 100 out there who weigh 130 pounds and they've got calves the size of cantaloupes because they're hauling 75 pounds of marijuana across the desert (http://takingnote.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/08/12/steve-king-still-stands-by-cantaloupe-comments/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=0). ~ Michael C Burgess,
460:If my false figures came near to the facts, this happened merely by chance....These comments are not worth printing. Yet it gives me pleasure to remember how many detours I had to make, along how many walls I had to grope in the darkness of my ignorance until I found the door which lets in the light of truth....In such manner did I dream of the truth. ~ Johannes Kepler,
461:Shut up, you fat water buffalo, rolling in the mud of other people's lives, is what she wanted to say. But she bit her tongue and reminded herself of how Mrs. Mahmoud had held her hand through Abdul's birth, which made her think that if she had found strength enough to push him out, she could hold her meanest comments in. At this moment, it seemed harder. ~ Amy Waldman,
462:I would not have said anything about Mr. Trump, never - I would never have said anything if he didn't call himself a Christian. It'd be none of my business whatsoever to make any comments about his language, his vulgarities, his slander of people, but I was deeply troubled ... that here's a man who holds up a Bible one day, and calls a lady "bimbo" the next. ~ Max Lucado,
463:The tourist debauches the great monuments of antiquity, a comic figure, always inapt in his comments, incongruous in his appearance; ...avarice and deceit attack him at every step; the shops that he patronizes are full of forgeries... But we need feel no scruple or twinge of uncertainty; 'we' are travelers and cosmopolitans; the tourist is the other fellow. ~ Evelyn Waugh,
464:If my false figures came near to the facts, this happened merely by chance ... These comments are not worth printing. Yet it gives me pleasure to remember how many detours I had to make, along how many walls I had to grope in the darkness of my ignorance until I found the door which lets in the light of the truth ... In such manner did I dream of the truth. ~ Johannes Kepler,
465:That’s what’s so difficult about Jesus’ call to love others. On one level, it’s easy to love God, because God doesn’t smell. God doesn’t have bad breath. God doesn’t reward kindness with evil. God doesn’t make berating comments. Loving God is easy, in this sense. But Jesus really let us have it when he attached our love for God with our love for other people. ~ Gary L Thomas,
466:There are two kinds of comments that I get. One is, oh, you're such a natural up there, and the other one is, you're working hard up there. And the ones who say I'm working hard are teachers, they're the educators; they're the people who are the performers. It's a huge investment of my psycho-emotional energy to pull that off and to make it look smooth. ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson,
467:I know a number of people who - from the comments they make - are going to vote for [Donald] Trump when that curtain closes. But let's keep it real honest here: They are voting for a xenophobic, anti-Latino white supremacist - don't try to pretty it up. This is now the age when people want to be white supremacists, but they don't actually want to be known for it. ~ Junot Diaz,
468:Ok now--I don't read "all the time." Remember, that these ratings are over quite a while. I'll try to put in some comments over what I've been reading lately. I like Vince Flynn's spy/thrillers. Also, check out Umberto Eco's one "On Beauty"--not the precise title, but great art/comments. Also, Sophie's World if you like a pretty unusual story with philosophy mixed in. ~ Umberto Eco,
469:Unfortunately, Trump has showed hateful inclinations toward many, many groups. Many groups. The most obvious: undocumented immigrants and Muslims. His comments that I've seen that he's made about Jewish people, about black people - they're all very troubling to me - even though he sort of said, "Oh, I distance myself from hate and don't do any of this hating stuff." ~ Barbara Boxer,
470:For Martin Schulz, the chancellor candidate for the center-left Social Democrats, friendly wishes don't go far enough. He would like to see much more enthusiastic support for Emmanuel Macron than that shown by Chancellor Angela Merkel, whose comments so far have tended to be reserved. As she put it, she doesn't see a need to change her policies because of Macron. ~ Wolfgang Schauble,
471:As painful and destructive as they are, the hateful comments allow us to map the underlying beliefs of many people in a way we've never been able to before. It's almost as if all of the negativity and misogyny needs to come to the surface so we can fully understand what it is, and how deep it goes, before we can begin to shift it. Of course, I wish it weren't there. ~ Monica Lewinsky,
472:Readers like SapphicDerrida, who reeled off statistics and used words like “reify” in their comments, made Ifemelu nervous, eager to be fresh and to impress, so that she began, over time, to feel like a vulture hacking into the carcasses of people’s stories for something she could use. Sometimes making fragile links to race. Sometimes not believing herself. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie,
473:So, let's make a deal: If you do not voice all the withering comments about the weight or uselessness of this jacket that are no doubt swirling in that big brain of yours, then I will not mention the super-laser episode again. Agreed?" This jacket is really cutting into my shoulders, thought Artemis. And it's so heavy that I could not outrun a slug. But he said, "Agreed. ~ Eoin Colfer,
474:The little girl feels that her body is escaping her, that it is no longer the clear expression of her individuality: it becomes foreign to her; and at the same moment she is grasped by others as a thing: on the street, eyes follow her, her body is subject to comments; she would like to become invisible; she is afraid of becoming flesh and afraid to show her flesh. ~ Simone de Beauvoir,
475:Mrs. Baker's social manner was almost robotlike in its perfection. All her comments and remarks were natural, normal, everyday currency, but one had a suspicion that the whole thing was like an actor playing a part for perhaps the seven hundredth time. It was an automatic performance, completely divorced from what Mrs. Baker might really have been thinking or feeling. ~ Agatha Christie,
476:A group of national security experts, military intelligence experts, issued a very concerning statement about Senator Bernie Sanders's views on foreign policy and national security, pointing out some of the comments he has made on these issues, such as inviting Iranian troops into Syria to try to resolve the conflict there; putting them right at the doorstep of Israel. ~ Hillary Clinton,
477:Henry never attempted to pester her when she was thus. His attitude was Asquithian, and he knew she appreciated him for his patience. She did not know he was learning that virtue from her father. “Relax, son,” Atticus had told him in one of his rare comments on her. “Don’t push her. Let her go at her own speed. Push her and every mule in the county’d be easier to live with. ~ Harper Lee,
478:So, let's make a deal: If you do not voice all the withering comments about the weight or uselessness of this jacket that are no doubt swirling in that big brain of yours, then I will not mention the super-laser episode again. Agreed?"
This jacket is really cutting into my shoulders, thought Artemis. And it's so heavy that I could not outrun a slug.
But he said, "Agreed. ~ Eoin Colfer,
479:In the early years of the show, I had earned a reputation as the prankster who planted stink bombs under the audience seats, greased doorknobs and hid crew members’ cars in bushes. I initiated practical jokes, laughter, ribbing and the sarcastic comments that flew around stage like the evil monkeys on The Wizard of Oz. My fellow cast members affectionately named me “Devil Boy. ~ Kirk Cameron,
480:There's a story about how the program is organized, there's a story about the context in which the program is expected to operate. And one would hope that there will be something about the program, whether it's block comments at the start of each routine or an overview document that comes separately or just choices of variable names that will somehow convey those stories to you. ~ Guy Steele,
481:If we have a Democratic Senate I think the Republican Party will wake up to the reality that their opposition to comprehensive immigration reform with a path to citizenship is a losing proposition. That Donald Trump's inflammatory rhetoric and derogatory comments do not really work in a national election. And I think we'll have a better chance to actually get something done. ~ Hillary Clinton,
482:The public discourse on global warming has little in common with the standards of scientific discourse. Rather, it is part of political discourse where comments are made to secure the political base and frighten the opposition rather than to illuminate issues. In political discourse, information is to be 'spun' to reinforce pre-existing beliefs, and to discourage opposition. ~ Richard Lindzen,
483:16 December. In his book The Poetics of Space (1958) the critic and philosopher Gaston Bachelard quotes the advice of a dictionary of botany: ‘Reader, study the periwinkle in detail, and you will see how detail increases an object’s stature.’ ‘To use a magnifying glass’, Bachelard comments a little later, ‘is to pay attention.’ (From The Man with a Blue Scarf by Martin Gayford.) ~ Alan Bennett,
484:She made only one educational stipulation: religious instruction. Unlike Aziz, who was racked by ambiguity, she had remained devout. 'You have your Hummingbird,' she told him, 'but I, whatsitsname, have the Call of God. A better noise, whatsitsname, than that man's hum.' It was one of her rare political comments… and then the day arrived when Aziz threw out the religious tutor. ~ Salman Rushdie,
485:People who make snide comments to authors like "anyone can write a book" or "well, you did it, so obviously I can/it can't be that hard" or poke at a book because it's "romance" or "genre fiction" and act like that somehow makes it substandard because they don't read it... well, ok, go ahead. Write a bestseller. Don't forget to go through the correct edit process. We'll wait. ~ Michelle M Pillow,
486:Today, I wanted to spend some time reading and responding to comments of fans on my Facebook page. Yes, there are great comments, but there are also a lot of people who are very opinionated and judgmental. So, initially, when I read these judgmental comments, I don't feel vulnerable, but rather I get defensive. But once I get past that anger, it sort of becomes hurt. It becomes pain. ~ Matisyahu,
487:the Internet has a disinhibition effect: you can be ruder to someone electronically than you would be in a face-to-face encounter, since the exchange has been depersonalised. Read any Comments section on the Web, and you will see what this means: the replacement of reason by anger, and argument by vilification. Civility is dying, and when it dies, civilisation itself is in danger. ~ Jonathan Sacks,
488:When faced with the myth, the questions to ask are not about women's faces and bodies but about the power relations of the situation. Who is this serving? Who says? Who profits? When someone discusses a woman's appearance to her face, she can ask herself, is it that person's business? Are the power relations equal? Would she feel comfortable making the same personal comments in return? ~ Naomi Wolf,
489:After discussion and careful review of her answers, there was nothing in her comments that we could prove was a lie beyond a reasonable doubt. There was no moment when investigators caught her in a lie. She did not at any point confess wrongdoing or indicate that she knew what she had done with her emails was wrong. Whether we believed her or not, we had no significant proof otherwise. ~ James Comey,
490:A lot of the letters that are coming in - a lot of them are queries or comments - are one sentence long... These are from Twitter. And if you look at the nature of those one sentence letters, most of the time it's something that came to somebody's mind - somebody walking down the street had a thought and sent it out. If they thought about it for two minutes they would not have sent it. ~ Noam Chomsky,
491:Mr Draghi’s comments have increased the chance of outright quantitative easing as the next step for ECB policy,” said Michael Gapen, an economist at Barclays. “However, we believe the bar for outright QE remains high and is contingent on deflation and governments’ willingness to co-operate – the ECB does not want QE to be a substitute for government action, especially on structural reforms. ~ Anonymous,
492:We need to enhance our complexions,” Pandora protested.
“It won’t do any harm,” Cassandra chimed in. “The bottle says that Bloom of Rose is ‘delicate and inoffensive’…It’s written right there, you see?”
“The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
493:It didn’t take Celeste long to realize that this was going to be the sort of book club where the book was secondary to the proceedings. She felt a mild disappointment. She’d been looking forward to talking about the book. She’d even, embarrassingly, prepared for book club, like a good little lawyer, marking up a few pages with Post-it notes and writing a few pithy comments in the margins. ~ Liane Moriarty,
494:Playing Dead is a compelling book—a true page-turner. Smart, strong, and protective of her children, Monique was barraged with snide comments and criticism, yet had no idea that this was verbal abuse and never suspected its extreme escalation. Every chapter compels the reader forward to what's next."—Patricia Evans, author of The Verbally Abusive Relationship, Controlling People, and more. ~ Patricia Evans,
495:elected leaders can’t get along at all. Hateful comments have become normal in Washington, and that’s made for some of our greatest disappointments. In their personal lives and businesses, average Americans have to work with people they don’t necessarily agree with all the time—but they can set that aside, be constructive, and get results. So, they ask, why can’t Members of Congress do the same? ~ Dana Perino,
496:Kristen is really focused and really quiet, as an actress. She just does her thing, but she's cool. I like her. I know a lot of people have mixed comments about her, but I think she's a rad person. She's just focused on what she's doing, as an actress, and she wants to pick the right roles, and she's committed to her craft. She's really cool. We got along. There weren't any tensions or anything. ~ Tinsel Korey,
497:Start listening to what you say. Are your comments and ideas negative? You aren't going become positive if you always say negative things. Do you hear yourself say"I could never do that","I never have any luck","I never get things right". Wow - that's negative self-talk! Try saying"I am going to do that","I am so lucky""I always try to get things right". Can you hear how much better that sounds? ~ James Arthur,
498:He had first been excited by Facebook, ghosts of old friends suddenly morphing to life with wives and husbands and children, and photos trailed by comments. But he began to be appalled by the air of unreality, the careful manipulation of images to create a parallel life, pictures that people had taken with Facebook in mind, placing in the background the things of which they were proud. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie,
499:I've always taken any sort of audible response as a compliment, and I always understand it is our consumers' right and privilege to say whatever people want at our events. So as long as there's no silence, I'll keep being excited. But that stuff in the arenas is one thing. The comments on the internet - the obnoxious, visceral comments - are baffling to me. I just don't know why that's the way it is. ~ John Cena,
500:Let us consider how our lack of love, indifference to the needs and feelings of others, even sharp comments and hasty judgments that are often excused as being honest and straightforward, are thwarting the effect of the influence of the Holy Spirit on others. Manifestations of temper and touchiness and irritation, feelings of bitterness and estrangement, have their root in nothing but pride. Pride ~ Andrew Murray,
501:He had at first been excited by Facebook, ghosts of old friends suddenly morphing to life with wives and husbands and children, and photos trailed by comments. But he began to be appalled by the air of unreality, the careful manipulation of images to create a parallel life, pictures that people had taken with Facebook in mind, placing in the background the things of which they were proud. ~ Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie,
502:others, even sharp comments and hasty judgments that are often excused as being honest and straightforward, are thwarting the effect of the influence of the Holy Spirit on others. Manifestations of temper and touchiness and irritation, feelings of bitterness and estrangement, have their root in nothing but pride. Pride creeps in almost everywhere, and the assemblies of the saints are not exceptions. ~ Andrew Murray,
503:You could spend hours following the trail of a single dispute, through smoking battlefields of interlinked comments threads and screen shots and blogs where the message “this post has been deleted by its author” stands like a tombstone over the grave of the one witness who can tell you what really happened. I know, because I’ve wandered extensively over this blasted heath in the past couple of weeks. ~ Laura Miller,
504:13:4–7 In the previous comments (vv.1–3), the focus is on the emptiness produced when love is absent from ministry. In these verses, the fullness of love is described, in each case by what love does. Love is action, not abstraction. Positively, love is patient with people and gracious to them with generosity. Negatively, love never envies, or brags, or is arrogant, since that is the opposite of ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
505:Strauss admits to being obsessed by his mother's rejection, and with the resultant rents in self-esteem. The Game echoes with disturbingly abusive comments leveled at his adolescent self, a self he feels was unacceptable. With bravado, he expresses regret that he didn't rack up more sexual conquests in his teens; in person, he expresses a truer regret that he was intimidated by life itself. ~ Antonella Gambotto Burke,
506:These were highly civil comments for crying out loud. I mean, people are going nuts. USA Today, the Politico. And some people were suggesting that my comments were below the belt. Well, take a look at some pictures. Given where she wears her belts. I mean, she wears them high up there around the bust line. Isn't just about everything about her below the belt when you look at the fashion sense she has? ~ Rush Limbaugh,
507:..."Charming people, when not actively shooting one another," a friend had once said, which was so unkind, but, like so many unkind comments, had a grain of truth in it. They did shoot one another and had been doing so for centuries. They did bicker over and brood on long-dead history--or history that should be long dead. The problem with history was that it refused to lie down and die. ~ Alexander McCall Smith,
508:He was engaged and curious, that was all, and he came up with various suggestions, but she didn’t have the energy to interrupt him for the dozenth time to say she’d already tried everything, including everything he’d suggested. She wished he would just stop and listen. If only she could simply tell him and have him listen without trying to come up with solutions, suggestions or any comments at all. ~ Sandra Gustafsson,
509:How do I stay confident? I just look at my accomplishments that I've made so far. It's a very conceited thing to say, of course, but I just look at everything I've done and all the fans that write letters to me. Sometimes I even look at the good YouTube comments and really pay attentions to them. I've inspired a lot of kids, and it's not every day you get to hear about that when you have this kind of career. ~ D Pryde,
510:I like the fact that a lot of people get to hear the music and I love performing with people cheering you on and you're feeling the love for what you're doing, but there's also the other side where if you give away as much personal information as I do it's hard not to take it personally when people are saying mean things about you. But I try not to read any comments. Right now I'm just feeling a lot of love. ~ Tove Lo,
511:I try to be true to myself yet still at the same time look at comments and look at what the fans have to say and kind of put it in perspective. I'm never someone whose not open for opinion, I'm always just down to make it work and see how we can do things but at the end of the day I always want to make sure it represents me. It's really about just being humble and not selling yourself on being there already. ~ Kid Ink,
512:Of these latter, desolating states, she comments: ‘Loneliness, in its quintessential form, is of a nature that is incommunicable by the one who suffers it. Nor, unlike other non-communicable emotional experiences, can it be shared via empathy. It may well be that the second person’s empathic abilities are obstructed by the anxiety-arousing quality of the mere emanations of the first person’s loneliness. ~ Olivia Laing,
513:As you make a habit of not taking anything personally, you won’t need to place your trust in what others do or say. You will only need to trust yourself to make responsible choices. You are never responsible for the actions of others; you are only responsible for you. When you truly understand this, and refuse to take things personally, you can hardly be hurt by the careless comments or actions of others. ~ Miguel Ruiz,
514:Your perception is riveting, Amal," he says in a bored and sarcastic tone, dropping the note down on my desk. "It's comforting to know that there are people in my class who have the maturity and intelligence to make derogatory comments about other people's external appearances."

Now what am I supposed to say to that?

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Friggin' mind reader. ~ Randa Abdel Fattah,
515:I try to use social media as a tool for good. Fortunately I can say that social media has treated me pretty well. I've been exempt from a lot of the mean comments. Of course it happens now and then. It's funny because let's say a rude or off-putting comment comes in, rather than ignore it, I'll talk to that person and there are so many times I've gotten apologies, like "I totally understand, I'm with you." ~ Yara Shahidi,
516:My parents taught me never to judge others based on whom they love, what color their skin is, or their religion. Why make life miserable for someone when you could be using your energy for good? We don’t need to share the same opinions as others, but we need to be respectful. When you hear people making hateful comments, stand up to them. Point out what a waste it is to hate, and you could open their eyes. ~ Taylor Swift,
517:I was reading the paper and saw a cartoon with Ray Kelly frisking Obama, and I was like "Wait, what's happening?" so I Googled it. For everything Obama stands for and the things he's said in the past in his books, especially with the Trayvon Martin thing - and I'm not sure if he [made his comments on Trayvon] because he was asked a question and he was trying to be diplomatic and neutral - that can't happen. ~ Adepero Oduye,
518:The comments these young men and women make at their roundtable discussions often betray the deep contradictions they contend with in their daily lives. They are disillusioned with the government but planning to serve it; critical of corrupt officials but unwilling to resist them; and intensely focused on the United States, a country they view as both Russia’s most dangerous adversary and its indispensable ally. ~ Anonymous,
519:The WRITER of memoir gets incoming weirdness in very odd ways. I was recently talking to a memoir writer whose work just went meteoric - but some of the comments and communications and gestures she gets in the wake of that success are stunningly and atrociously over-personal, as if suddenly people feel like they know her and her life intimately, and have permission to transgress all her "life" boundaries. ~ Lidia Yuknavitch,
520:Frank Ryan comments that The microbes that kill people, particularly those that kill huge numbers in sweeping epidemics, follow, in many ways, the same universal law of predator and prey. It is part of this complex gestalt that the balance is shaped by the behavior of the prey. If the prey moves—if it changes, if its numbers increase or decrease, if its ecology alters—the predator must move with it.29 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
521:Off and on for many years, I tried to write a book about my childhood. I’d bring chapters to workshop, to writing group, and I always got the same comments: How could you live this way? How could you survive this? It’s too raw. You don’t speak to these people, do you? I was deeply hurt by these reactions, and also confused. This was my mother. I loved her. This was my family. My life. How could it be too raw? ~ Heather Sellers,
522:Sometimes you need a reminder that negative comments about your body aren’t even really about your body, they’re about society and our society’s wrongheaded and impossibly narrow definition of a “good” body. Your body didn’t do anything wrong. What’s fucked up about your body is not your body at all, but that your body has to live in a society that thinks it has a right to say fucked up things about your body. ~ Golda Poretsky,
523:I'm gonna try to talk about this in a secular way, but where's the spirituality of just being a person? I think it contributes to this rise in bad manners and mean comments; people are being driven by seeking something that's just designed to keep them seeking something. I'm not reducing people in this age to phone-addicted dum-dums, but we have to remind ourselves to also study compassion and inner life as well. ~ Lauren Graham,
524:physician and viral researcher Frank Ryan comments . . . Viruses have a kind of sensation that could be classed as intermediate between a rudimentary smell or touch . . . they have a way of detecting the chemical composition of cell surfaces. . . . This gives a virus the most exquisite ability to sense the right cell surfaces. It recognizes them through a perception in three-dimensional surface chemistry.1 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
525:One thing to be said for Baine was that he couldn’t care less whether the people in his elevator were clothed or unclothed, so Rio was spared the computer’s snide comments.
Baine did know about sex, though. As Rio carried Nella out of the lift, Baine muttered, “ Computer interface is so much easier.”
“What did he say?” Nella asked as Rio set her on her bed.
“Bad machine-language joke. Ignore him. ~ Allyson James,
526:I’m trying to decide whether to tell you two to get a room or go barf in the trash can,” Emma said. “I’m leaning toward the second choice. You are both getting way too weird. And gross.”

Cal barked out a laugh and slid his fingers down my arm to entwine with mine. His touch, and Emma’s comments, only made me blush more. Looks like Emma saw Cal lick my face after all.

Now that wasn’t awkward or anything. ~ E J Stevens,
527:who that guy says I am. I’m not who that girl says I am. I’m not who social media likes and comments say I am. I’m not who the grades, to-do lists, messes, and mess ups say I am. I’m not who the scale says I am or the sum total of what my flaws say I am. I’m going to stop flirting with the unstable things of this world so I can fall completely in love with You. I am loved. I am held. I am Yours. I am forever Yours. ~ Lysa TerKeurst,
528:How do you use outside groups, the public, social media comments, and government audits to improve your organization? What is the cost of being open about problems in your organization and what are the benefits? How can you leverage the knowledge of those inspectors to make your team smarter? How can you improve your team’s cooperation with those inspectors? How can you “use” the inspectors to help your organization? ~ L David Marquet,
529:President Bush, whose scorn for journalists is balanced by a soft spot in his heart for the conglomerates they work for, threatens to veto the Senate action. Keep in mind that when the public was asked to submit comments to the FCC about consolidation, only one percent approved it. The President may not be listening, but the Senate is, and the public won this round. The House has a similar resolution under consideration. ~ Bill Moyers,
530:The kind of intelligent book club discussion as now happens on the book sharing site Goodreads might follow the book itself and become more deeply embedded into the book via hyperlinks. So when a person cites a particular passage, a two-way link connects the comment to the passage and the passage to the comment. Even a minor good work could accumulate a wiki-like set of critical comments tightly bound to the actual text. ~ Kevin Kelly,
531:We stop, swivel, pause in the middle of the Grand Canal. We’re waiting for another water taxi to emerge from under a bridge, and once it’s gone we pass through, the buses slipping past us, a gondola too, the gondolier angling his pole skillfully under the bridge; everyone seems to know how to get past everyone else with no obvious rules, no traffic lanes.
“Imagine a pileup,” Paige comments. “Everyone would drown. ~ Lauren Henderson,
532:For every grand and finely worded statement by the CEO, the brand is also defined by derisory consumer comments overheard in a hallway, or in a chat room on the Internet. Brands are sponges for content, for images, for fleeting feelings. They become psychological concepts held in the minds of the public, where they may stay forever. As such you can’t entirely control a brand. At best you can only guide and influence it. ~ Scott Bedbury,
533:Within the church, it is possible for believers to possess a profound unity based on a shared commitment to Biblical truth, an intimate knowledge of the Lord Jesus Christ, and a deep level of spiritual maturity. Paul also adds "sound doctrine" and "growing in Christlikeness" as additional benefits that result from the saints being properly equipped to build up the body of Christ."(Comments on Ephesians 4 vs 11-13) ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
534:But if their behaviors are not okay, we set the boundaries: I know this is a tough conversation. Being angry is okay. Yelling is not okay. I know we’re tired and stressed. This has been a long meeting. Being frustrated is okay. Interrupting people and rolling your eyes is not okay. I appreciate the passion around these different opinions and ideas. The emotion is okay. Passive-aggressive comments and put-downs are not okay. ~ Bren Brown,
535:We elevate the status of others with compliments, flattery, ingratiating comments, public roasts, awards, and outright praise and adoration. People around the world systematically use the tactics of politeness—hesitations, indirectness, apologies, formalities—when speaking with higher-status individuals. These subtle shifts in phrasing, syntax, and delivery convey the respect that the speaker feels toward the recipient. ~ Dacher Keltner,
536:Ah'm sittin in the hotel bar waitin oan Fiona. Thinkin aboot her heart-melting smile and that sexy, concentrated frown when she evaluates books and the comments made by lecturers. Whenever she comes into a room, ma spirits soar. What ah feel is delight, pure and simple. Our life is all passionate kisses and soft wells of laughter. Ah love watchin her in class; even though we're shaggin, it's still great tae just look at her. ~ Irvine Welsh,
537:Connell doesn't read the campus papers much, but he has still managed to hear about the debating society inviting a neo-Nazi to give a speech. It's all over social media. There was even an article in The Irish Times. Connell hasn't commented on any of the Facebook threads, but has liked several comments calling for the invite to be rescinded, which is probably the most strident political action he has ever taken in his life. ~ Sally Rooney,
538:I’m not who that guy says I am. I’m not who that girl says I am. I’m not who social media likes and comments say I am. I’m not who the grades, to-do lists, messes, and mess ups say I am. I’m not who the scale says I am or the sum total of what my flaws say I am. I’m going to stop flirting with the unstable things of this world so I can fall completely in love with You. I am loved. I am held. I am Yours. I am forever Yours. ~ Lysa TerKeurst,
539:I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He had a slight smirk on his face. I imagined he was mentally checking off a task in his planner.

Seduce date by talking about other girls
Impress date with number of awards you have received
Do not spend money on date
Make date watch corny movie in media center
Sneak in comments about your frugality
Put arm around date at exactly the halfway mark of the movie ~ Colleen Houck,
540:We don't exist unless there is someone who can see us existing, what we say has no meaning until someone can understand, while to be surrounded by friends is constantly to have our identity confirmed; their knowledge and care for us have the power to pull us from our numbness. In small comments, many of them teasing, they reveal they know our foibles and except them and so, in turn, accept that we have a place in the world. ~ Alain de Botton,
541:From the amount of space that male undergraduates take up to the manspreading I witness during my commute, my fat body is frequently attacked on the grounds that I am not beautiful enough to exist because apparently that is my job as a woman. I think about the condescending comments I get from men online who tell me that they honestly think I’d be so beautiful if I lost weight—as if that were the goal of my life or my politics. ~ Virgie Tovar,
542:Mirabelle knows, and she lets this be unspoken, that all free things require conversation. Sitting in a darkened movie theatre requires absolutely no conversation at all, whereas a free date, like a walk down Hollywood Boulevard in the busy evening, requires comments, chatter, observations, and with luck, wit. She worries that since they have only exchanged perhaps two dozen words between them, these free dates will be horrible. ~ Steve Martin,
543:I am reminded that no matter how hard you try, you can never be more than twelve years old with your parents. Parents earnestly try not to inflame, but their comments contain no scale and a strange focus. Discussing your private life with parents is like misguidedly looking at a zit in a car's rearview mirror and being convinced, in the absence of contrast or context, that you have developed combined heat rash and skin cancer. ~ Douglas Coupland,
544:Jay had to work the next day, but he called frequently. Checking in to make sure Violet was feeling all right, that she hadn’t changed her mind about their decision, and that she missed him. Violet called him just to hear the sound of his voice. And to make unfairly suggestive comments, taunting him across the phone lines.
Violet loved this new game. Jay would groan uncomfortably from the other end, but he never cut her off. ~ Kimberly Derting,
545:As Jack began to climb the stairs, Fiona looked up at her new home. Five stories of stately mansion
rose above her head. Heavy molding around the large windows and doors bespoke a quality and
craftsmanship that was obvious even in the dim night. “Good God! It’s massive!”
Jack paused with his foot on the last step. “I do wish you’d keep those comments until we are in bed,
love. I would appreciate them all the more there. ~ Karen Hawkins,
546:Honestly kiddo? You’re beautiful. You use your weight as an excuse but you’re just all woman. Not every woman has to look like a stripper. Or a model. Or Megan Fox. You’re petite, have a tiny waist, a fantastic rack, a devastating ass…what the hell more do you want? You should know it. Everyone else knows it…that’s why you’re getting all these asinine comments. Can’t you just see that it’s just jealously that’s ripping these people apart? ~ Karina Halle,
547:What is this life-changing decision we both have made? I have decided to believe that Sarah does not intend to be disrespectful. Oh, she can get nasty, but that isn’t how she feels in her heart. I know she respects who I am deep inside. Sarah has decided to believe that I do not intend to be unloving, though I still hurt her at times with my comments and attitudes. She knows that in my heart I love her deeply and would even die for her. ~ Emerson Eggerichs,
548:I think that can also be the downfall at the same time in what's really difficult about being kind of in the public eye, you have so much exposure through the Internet, and you can receive a lot of comments, and you get kind of immediate gratification, but also immediate response from people that can either be negative or positive. But I'm really thankful for the internet because it's allowed me to connect with people so much more easily. ~ Amandla Stenberg,
549:The observations and encounters of a devotee of solitude and silence are at once less distinct and more penetrating than those of the sociable man; his thoughts are weightier, stranger, and never without a tinge of sadness. Images and perceptions which might otherwise be easily dispelled by a glance, a laugh, an exchange of comments, concern him unduly, they sink into mute depths, take on significance, become experiences, adventures, emotions. ~ Thomas Mann,
550:I am afraid that those comments go back to the late 80's. At that time I was a skeptic - the argument based on Koch's postulates to try to distinguish between cause and association. Today I would regard the success of the many antiviral agents which lower the virus titers (to be expected) and also resolve the failure of the immune system (only expected if the virus is the cause of the failure) as a reasonable proof of the causation argument . ~ Walter Gilbert,
551:For instance, let’s say part of your morning routine is to journal for 10 minutes. A decision to check your email “real quick” can lead to all kinds of distractions, such as clicking on a link in an email that goes to a blog post that has links to other blog posts. And of course there are the comments on the blog that you just have to respond to. Suddenly that 10-minute creativity routine has turned into a 30-minute rabbit hole of unproductive tasks. ~ S J Scott,
552:many of Bear’s stories and comments shared a general drift. They advised against fearing all of creation. But not because it is always benign, for it is not. It will, with certainty, consume us all. We are made to be destroyed. We are kindling for the fire, and our lives will stand as naught against the onrush of time. Bear’s position, if I understood it, was that refusal to fear these general terms of existence is an honorable act of defiance. ~ Charles Frazier,
553:One aspect of our site that I really appreciate is how I put up as much information as I've been able to keep track of: dates, the venue, the city, the country, the number of people there, the door price, opening bands, that sort of thing. One of the very first comments we had was from a guy who said, "By the way, the opening band in Albany in 1993 was not the Very Nice Neighbors, it was the Very Pleasant Neighbors." That brought a great joy to me. ~ Ian MacKaye,
554:The question is, why is the USDA in charge of the country’s nutrition anyway? In 2003 the Chicago Tribune reported the comments of Senator Peter Fitzgerald (R-Ill.)15: “The primary mission of the USDA is, after all, to promote the sale of agricultural products…So putting the USDA in charge of dietary advice is in some respects like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse.” So who should be in charge of our nutrition? How about anyone without a ~ Robert H Lustig,
555:The Bowery b'hoys were delighted ... to observe a pair of their favorites in league against their natural enemy, for Clancey detests our democracy, finds even the Whigs radical, the Adams family vulgar, Daniel Webster a sans-culotte. He fills the pages of his magazine America with libellous comments on all things American. Despite a rich wife and five children, he is a compulsive sodomite, forever preying on country boys new to the city. ~ Gore Vidal,
556:Karl Rove described Obama as "the guy at the country club with the beautiful date, holding a martini, and making snide comments about everyone who passes by." Unlike George Bush, who's the guy at the country club who makes snide comments, and then passes out. Now this characterization, of course, was something Mr. Rove just completely pulled out of his bulbous, gelatinous a$$, but remember this is America, a land where people believe anything they hear. ~ Bill Maher,
557:She and Felicity didn’t tolerate the overly skinny, the overly sporty, the overly rich or the overly intellectual. They laughed at people with personal trainers and small dogs, people who put overly intellectual or misspelled comments on Facebook, people who used the phrase “I’m in a very good place right now” and people who always got “involved”—people like Cecilia Fitzpatrick. Tess and Felicity sat on the sidelines of life smirking at the players. ~ Liane Moriarty,
558:…the gaps
in sensitivity displayed are vast.
Concepts that have not often been surpassed
For ignorance or downright nastiness -
That the habit of indifference is less
Destructive than the embrace of love, that crimes
Are paid for never or a thousand times,
That the gentle come to grief - all these are forced
Into scenes, dialogue, comments, and endorsed
By the main action, manifesting there
An inhumanity beyond despair. ~ Kingsley Amis,
559:postmodernists are just as concerned about objective truth as anyone else. Dallas Willard comments, “I have noticed that the most emphatic of Postmodernists turn coldly modern when discussing their fringe benefits or other matters that make a great difference to their practical life.” 35 If we use the metaphor that a worldview is a mental map, postmodernists keep walking off their map. It is too small to account for the full geography of who they are. ~ Nancy R Pearcey,
560:My diary entries during this period constantly refer to the importance of learning how to take criticism. If you shut yourself in your own little world, that will be the death of your theory. On the other hand, many of the criticisms you receive are pointless and simply reflect the view that anything new is bad. In such a delicate situation it is crucial to tread gingerly and be careful to appreciate the difference between pertinent and idiotic comments. ~ Joao Magueijo,
561:Unlike other countries, where the apex court is only the court of final appeal in criminal matters, Pakistan’s Supreme Court acts politically to directly make pronouncements in response to media articles or petitions by political rivals. One need not be convicted of disloyalty to the state after due process of law when innuendo, fabricated media reports and public comments by Supreme Court judges can suffice to tarnish reputations and cut public support. ~ Husain Haqqani,
562:Lucas felt a tingle when he read the quote, because it suggested that some people were legitimate targets for terrorism, which was not an ordinary way of thinking; and Lawrence in some way thought the deaths of three people were “of no real importance.” He closed his eyes and remembered the woman’s face, and her garden, and a feeling of hippie coquettishness, and couldn’t put that together with her comments. Had she fooled them, and had it been deliberate? ~ John Sandford,
563:Maybe the most amazing thing is how nice the fish smells. Not pongy at all: it’s like seawater, salty and clean and fresh.
“It’s not exactly Birds Eye fish fingers, is it?” Kelly says, jolted out of her silence by the sight of a whole crate of squid, white and violet with purple tentacles, arranged in overlapping rows.
“This is gross! But kind of interesting,” Paige comments, which is actually quite positive for Paige looking at a lot of raw fish. ~ Lauren Henderson,
564:People say strange, incoherent things in such a state.” “Her words do not strike me as incoherent or random. You suggested, Doctor Breuer, that I should simply interject any comments that occur to me. Let me make an observation: I find it remarkable that you are responsible for all of your thoughts and all of your deeds, whereas she”—Nietzsche’s voice was stern, and he shook his finger at Breuer—“she, by virtue of her illness, is exonerated from everything. ~ Irvin D Yalom,
565:Without remembering, wisdom is impossible (see comments on Exodus 10: 2). Wisdom is learning from our own lives and from the lives of others. Wisdom matters because good cannot be achieved without it. Good intentions without wisdom lead to either nothing or to actual evil. However much evil movements have appealed to the bad side of people’s natures, almost every one of them, communism being the most obvious example, also appealed to people’s good intentions. ~ Dennis Prager,
566:I've heard [Bernie] Sanders comments, and it's really caused me to wonder who's left in the progressive wing of the Democratic Party. Under his definition, [Barack] Obama is not progressive because he took donations from Wall Street; [Joe] Biden is not progressive because she supported Keystone; [Jeanne] Shaheen is not progressive because she supports the trade pact. Even the late, great Paul Wellstone would not fit this definition because he voted for DOMA. ~ Hillary Clinton,
567:I decided that many of Bear’s stories and comments shared a general drift. They advised against fearing all of creation. But not because it is always benign, for it is not. It will, with certainty, consume us all. We are made to be destroyed. We are kindling for the fire, and our lives will stand as naught against the onrush of time. Bear’s position, if I understood it, was that refusal to fear these general terms of existence is an honorable act of defiance. ~ Charles Frazier,
568:Not to any really influential effect, but certainly there have been comments that have surprised me. It's surprising sometimes to get particular perspectives on your work, and it's enlightening sometimes to know that non-writers and readers out there have certain assumptions about everything that I both want to keep in mind and want to forget about why I write, and about the connection between me as a private person and the stuff that I think about on the page. ~ Chang Rae Lee,
569:Felicity’s Journey Home, as I deemed this new chapter in my life, wasn’t just about relocating back to my small hometown of Prescott, Montana. It was about making amends. It was about setting aside my mask and revealing the real me. For too long, I had hidden behind layers of false confidence and snide comments. I had disguised my vulnerabilities and insecurities with “attitude”. It was time to do better. Be nicer.
It was time to show people that I had changed. ~ Devney Perry,
570:Oh, Cinder, I’ve missed seeing your face when you make sarcastic comments in an attempt to hide your true feelings about me.” “Please.” Rolling her eyes, Cinder started organizing the guns against the wall. “See that eye roll? It translates to ‘How am I possibly keeping my hands off you, Captain?’” “Yeah, keeping them from strangling you.” Kai folded his arms, grinning. “How come no one told me I had such steep competition?” Cinder glared. “Don’t encourage him.” With ~ Marissa Meyer,
571:consider women in music who align themselves with charities and causes that don’t reflect their lived experience in order to seem like they’re doing great things for poor, suffering women—the Other. Look at female artists who use background dancers of other races as props, or appropriate other cultures. Look at women in music who publicly shame other women for exercising bodily autonomy, like Warpaint making offensive comments about Beyoncé and Rihanna’s wardrobe choices. ~ Anonymous,
572:I don't feel the individualist anarchists, particularly in the American tradition, including the Transcendental tradition of New England, in any way deserve the derogatory comments that are often made about them by the left. When one gets down to it ultimately, my anarcho-communism stems from a commitment to true individuality. My attempt to recover the power and the right of the individual to control his or her life and destiny is the basis to my anarcho-communism. ~ Murray Bookchin,
573:Is it my imagination, or are your admirers making snide comments about your sanity?" This time, Phillip's voice sounded in my ear.
"Apparently, you agree with them" I murmured back.
"If the hammer fits..." Phillip trailed off.
"Says the man who likes to throw people off his riverboat," Owen cut in.
"You've been holding out on me, Philly," I chimed in again. "That sounds like fun."
"See?" Phillip said in a smug voice. "Your crazy woman agrees with me, Owen. ~ Jennifer Estep,
574:Dear good white people (you know who you are), I have a secret to tell you: There is no such thing. There are only white people who work to do good, just things. You are an ally because of your actions, not because you say you are. You're an ally when you call out racist comments, when you listen and learn, when you work in solidarity with people of color to dismantle institutional racism, when your efforts and actions are felt by others. Not just when you wear a safety pin. ~ Kate Schatz,
575:There had been so many. He had hired young ones because they were more plentiful and worked cheaper. The better of those got married and pregnant and wanted six months off. The bad ones flirted, wore tight miniskirts, and made suggestive comments. He had hired more mature women to negate any physical temptation, but, as a rule, they had been bossy, maternal, menopausal, and they had more doctors' appointments, as well as aches and pains to talk about and funerals to attend. ~ John Grisham,
576:They display these things to people they know on social media, and they get lots of likes and comments like “OMG—so jealous!” After the brief buzz that comes from displaying their goods, they usually find they become dissatisfied and down again. They are puzzled by this, and they often assume it’s because they didn’t buy the right thing. So they work harder, and they buy more goods, display them through their devices, feel the buzz, and then slump back to where they started. ~ Johann Hari,
577:Between these efforts he sent the following, loosely connected string of comments and observations Bob’s way: “You have responsibilities now, Bob. You must lose this naïve understanding of violence! You are embarrassin’ me in front of the lads! You can’t play by their rules or they’ll win unfailingly! You don’t engage in courtly play-fightin’ with one such as this. You get a great friggin’ tree-branch and keep hittin’ him with it until he dies. Like that. D’you see, boys? ~ Neal Stephenson,
578:It’s confession time: I don’t like test names. Technically they’re method names, but they’re never called explicitly. That alone should make you somewhat suspicious. I consider method names found within tests to be glorified comments that come with all the standard warnings: they often grow out of date, and are often a Code Smell emanating from bad code. Unfortunately, most testing frameworks make test names mandatory, and you should spend the time to create helpful test names. ~ Anonymous,
579:Americans’ preference for mediated experiences is obvious enough, and I’m not going to keep pounding it into the ground. I’m not even going to make snotty comments about it—after all, I was at Disney World as a paying customer. But it clearly relates to the colossal success of GUIs, and so I have to talk about it some. Disney does mediated experiences better than anyone. If they understood what OSes are, and why people use them, they could crush Microsoft in a year or two. ~ Neal Stephenson,
580:Everyone does that. We’d switch library cards, put each other’s names on blog comments, screw with the grand cosmic record of who did what.” “Why?” I asked, confused. “The world tends toward chaos, you know,” Cassidy said. “I’m just helping it along. You could too. Just write down a made-up name, or even a fictional character. And to the next person who finds this geocache, it’s as though things really happened that way. You have to at least allow for the possibility of it. ~ Robyn Schneider,
581:I think one of the biggest reasons people have difficulty believing in God is because they don't understand Him.  You often hear doubting comments like 'if there is a God then why this and why that?' and 'how could He allow...?' Perhaps if people were to invest true, sincere effort getting to know Him, they would discover a mindful Father who is there every step of the way through trials and tribulations that test and mold his children for a higher purpose. ~ Richelle E Goodrich,
582:the American taxpayers had wasted $550,000 teaching five chimpanzees to talk sign language. What could a chimpanzee have to say that might be of interest? Proxmire asked. Well, he said, here it is in black and white, here are the earth-shattering comments from these chimps, after a half million dollars of English lessons: “Gimme banana!” and “I gotta go potty!” He was reading from one of my papers on the Senate floor! The big fat pompous asshole. I should’ve sued the bastard. ~ Douglas Preston,
583:Okay, so I stopped posting status updates on Facebook a long time ago. I noticed that whenever someone posts something completely mundane and stupid, like 'Sushi 2nite!' seventeen people have to comment on that. 'I ♥ sushi!' and 'Spicy Tuna 4 meee!' But if you ever try to actually say something serious about your feelings or, like, your life, every one of your 386 "friends" is suddenly mute. So there you have it: My life is a post with no comments. Less interesting than spicy tuna. ~ J J Howard,
584:suggests that you transform the way you think about the different flavors of one-click approval indicators that populate the social media universe. Instead of seeing these easy clicks as a fun way to nudge a friend, start treating them as poison to your attempts to cultivate a meaningful social life. Put simply, you should stop using them. Don’t click “Like.” Ever. And while you’re at it, stop leaving comments on social media posts as well. No “so cute!” or “so cool!” Remain silent. ~ Cal Newport,
585:Unfortunately, I saw a side of humanity I wish I'd remained blissfully ignorant of, including one driver who threw a bottle at me while I was walking my baby to the doctor on the side of the road and yelled out insults. Nurses who made nasty comments about how I should get a job (I was working two of them, in addition to being a published author). It wasn't that I didn't have a job and wasn't working. The jobs in backwoods Mississippi didn't pay enough to cover living expenses. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
586:The Interior Department on Friday released new regulations that give a green light — pun intended — for fracking on federally owned lands. After four years of study and 1.5 million public comments, the department’s Bureau of Land Management concluded fracking can be done safely. Focusing on science rather than politics — as Cuomo should have done — the bureau set limits on where drilling could happen and set strict standards for the construction of wells and the handling of wastewater. ~ Anonymous,
587:However, a few glances at most were cast upward, perhaps followed by isolated comments about how beautiful the evening was, for sights like this were not exceptional, on the contrary, hardly a day passed without the sky being filled with fantastic cloud formations, each and every one illuminated in unique, never-to-be-repeated ways, and since what you see every day is what you never see, we lived our lives under the constantly changing sky without sparing it a glance or thought. ~ Karl Ove Knausg rd,
588:People do whatever the hell they want to do at any age they fancy. Last month you were thirty-five. That means you're five years from forty. Do you think that the day you reach forty you will be any different than you were at thirty-nine or forty-one for that matter? People create little ideas about ages so they can write silly self-help books, stick stupid comments in birthday cards, create names for internet chat rooms and look for excuses for crisis that are happening in their life. ~ Cecelia Ahern,
589:The question is, why is the USDA in charge of the country’s nutrition anyway? In 2003 the Chicago Tribune reported the comments of Senator Peter Fitzgerald (R-Ill.)15: “The primary mission of the USDA is, after all, to promote the sale of agricultural products…So putting the USDA in charge of dietary advice is in some respects like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse.” So who should be in charge of our nutrition? How about anyone without a vested interest in pushing the poison? ~ Robert H Lustig,
590:When you share your dreams with people who cannot envision more, their fearful comments can be discouraging. When people encourage you to live a life that yields less than what you’re capable of accomplishing, there’s usually a selfish motive. When the people closest to you try to confine your life to a small space, it’s typically not because they’re bad people or because they want you to feel like a failure. Most often they fear you will outgrow them and have no room for them in your life. ~ T D Jakes,
591:When I want my men to remember something important, to really make it stick, I give it to them double dirty. It may not sound nice to some bunch of little old ladies at an afternoon tea party, but it helps my soldiers to remember. You can't run an army without profanity; and it has to be eloquent profanity. An army without profanity couldn't fight its way out of a piss-soaked paper bag. As for the types of comments I make, sometimes I just, By God, get carried away with my own eloquence. ~ George S Patton,
592:In a democracy, everyone has the right to criticise the Government. Normally, the opposition gets more media space and even the people find it interesting to listen to voices against the government of the day. Ever since I took office, my friends in the opposition have been levelling baseless allegations about my foreign trips. Had these trips been a failure, then they would have based their comments on specific issues. When opponents keep harping on one point, it is a sure sign of success! ~ Narendra Modi,
593:First of all, let me give my comments on the blasphemy law. This law was introduced by the military dictator General Ziaul Haq. No one demanded the blasphemy law in Pakistan. But he wanted to give protection to his undemocratic rule, dictatorship, by using religion. So Pakistan came into being in 1947, and from 1947 until 1986 no case against any minorities was registered under the protection of the blasphemy law. Nobody from minorities was killed and no act of violence happened [against them]. ~ Shahbaz Bhatti,
594:I'm realizing that the people who criticize what I'm doing, their intentions and comments are not actually real.There's nothing happening in the real world outside of whatever they're writing on the internet. Whereas for the people who feel inspired by what I'm doing, there's something so concrete and powerful in what's happening when they feel empowered. There's actually some kind of growth or self-acceptance, some kind of self-love that's actually being triggered, hopefully. And that's real. ~ Amandla Stenberg,
595:Harvey sought for truth in Truth's own book- Creation - which by God himself was writ;And wisely thought 'twas fitNot to read comments only upon it,But on th' original itself to look.Methinks in Art's great circle others standLock'd up together hand in hand:Every one leads as he is led,The same bare path they tread,A dance like that of Fairies, a fantastic round,With neither change of motion nor of ground.Had Harvey to this road confined his wit,His noble circle of the blood had been untrodden yet. ~ William Harvey,
596:Discussion Anchor Chart Ways to discuss Take turns sharing. Ground your group members in the article by sharing a line from the text that struck you. Share your thinking by reading what you annotated in the margins. Before letting the next person share, give your group members an opportunity to respond to your comments. Group members might agree or disagree with you. They might ask a question or piggyback on something you said. When you have talked and your group has responded, ask, “Who wants to go next? ~ Cris Tovani,
597:I hadn’t even spoken to him, other than to breathe his name, and I was suddenly wrapped around him in a rainstorm, in the middle of the road. Slowly, I felt his strong arms come up around me, holding me, enfolding me. I was enveloped in warmth. The pleasure of the embrace was so intense I shuddered with it. I felt his hand in my hair, and he made those soft shushing noises. I realized I was crying. We stood in the rain, and he held me up, letting me hold him in return. No comments, no questions, just comfort. ~ Amy Harmon,
598:People are taking the piss out of you everyday. They butt into your life, take a cheap shot at you and then disappear. They leer at you from tall buildings and make you feel small. They make flippant comments from buses that imply you’re not sexy enough and that all the fun is happening somewhere else. They are on TV making your girlfriend feel inadequate. They have access to the most sophisticated technology the world has ever seen and they bully you with it. They are The Advertisers and they are laughing at you. ~ Banksy,
599:His further comments in this particular article are significant:
All this criticism may be too narrow. There is plenty of evidence that the Latter-day Saints are gullible on many subjects, not just this one.
President Harold B.Lee expressed impatience with the rumor-mongering which is endemic among Mormons. The too-generous standing ovations at BYU are becoming legendary.
Salt Lake City has earned a nationwide reputation as a center for stock fraud, and Douglas Stringfellow beguiled Utahans for years.27 ~ Ed Decker,
600:I’m not who that guy says I am. I’m not who that girl says I am. I’m not who social media likes and comments say I am. I’m not who the grades, to-do lists, messes, and mess ups say I am. I’m not who the scale says I am or the sum total of what my flaws say I am. I’m going to stop flirting with the unstable things of this world so I can fall completely in love with You. I am loved. I am held. I am Yours. I am forever Yours.” The more intimacy like this that I have with God, the more secure my true identity is. ~ Lysa TerKeurst,
601:I viewed them as if I were on the outside of something looking in. I laughed at their jokes, winced internally at their tales of inappropriate tears or misjudged comments. But what became clear as I sat on my plastic chair and drank my instant coffee was that I had somehow found myself on the other side. I had crossed a bridge. Their struggle was no longer my struggle. It wasn’t that I would ever stop grieving for Will, or loving him, or missing him, but that my life seemed to have somehow landed back in the present. ~ Jojo Moyes,
602:Pliny the Elder, the indefatigable encyclopedist of the Natural History, has barely a good word to say for them, and even that is expressed in the negative, as when he comments that ‘Of the Greek sciences, it is only medicine that the Romans have not followed, thanks to their good sense,’ or that ‘amber provides an opportunity for exposing the false accounts of the Greeks. My readers should bear with me patiently, since it is important to realize that not everything handed down by the Greeks merits admiration. ~ Elizabeth Speller,
603:One must search diligently to find laudatory comments on education (other than those pious platitudes which are fodder for commencement speeches). It appears that most persons who have achieved fame and success in the world of ideas are cynical about formal education. These people are a select few, who often achieved success in spite of their education, or even without it. As has been said, the clever largely educate themselves, those less able aren't sufficiently clever or imaginative to benefit much from education. ~ Edward Gibbon,
604:A Chinese paleontologist lectures around the world saying that recent fossil finds in his country are inconsistent with the Darwinian theory of evolution. His reason: The major animal groups appear abruptly in the rocks over a relatively short time, rather than evolving gradually from a common ancestor as Darwin's theory predicts. When this conclusion upsets American scientists, he wryly comments: "In China we can criticize Darwin but not the government. In America you can criticize the government but not Darwin." ~ Phillip E Johnson,
605:Human beings remember "firsts"- the first time something happens, or the begining of an experience- and we tend to remember "lasts" as well. So when you are about to make a critical/negative delivery , start your criticism with a positive begining, it will affect the rest of the experience. Start by giving them solid ground to stand by expressing the fact that you value them and they matter. Once they are reassured of their own worth, people will accept your comments far more easily and they'll get less defensive. ~ Olivia Fox Cabane,
606:when I am talking to myself, whom am I talking to and who is doing the talking? Are we all in fact two people, not one? Are we all One and Another? What I know is that I have an 'everyday self,' the one who does things, says things, deals with the ups and downs of daily life, and another, an 'inner self,' the one I think of as my real self, the self who observes everything my everyday self does and comments and judges, praises and dispraises, considers what would be best to do and not to do, and assesses the results. ~ Aidan Chambers,
607:Everyone was in a rush. Everyone was busy. Everyone demanded their gratification instantly. She’d even begun to notice it in the editing of her books. Pace! Jo had begun to snap in her editorial comments, where once she would have written: Nice! It seemed to Frances that readers once had more patience, they were content for the story to take its time, for an occasional chapter to meander pleasurably through a beautiful landscape without anything much happening, except perhaps the exchange of some meaningful eye contact. ~ Liane Moriarty,
608:It's been fascinating over the last few years, watching the high and mighty in business and politics fall precipitously-not because their plans didn't work, but because their character flaws undercut those plans. Whether the microphone caught them making racist comments or their greed overcame their common sense, who they were as people made all the difference-more than their résumés, their degrees, or even their past successes. If you fail at the art of being human and staying human, you recklessly court disaster. ~ Marianne Williamson,
609:Lynn Margulis comments, “Most bacteria have far more important things to do on this Earth than to devour our tissues while we are still alive, drink our blood when we are old and weak, or fight with us over who will eat our food first. . . . Those who hate and want to kill bacteria indulge in self-hatred. Our ultimate ancestors, yours and mine, descended from this group of beings. Not only are bacteria our ancestors, but also . . . as the evolutionary antecedent of the nervous system, they invented consciousness. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
610:As a teacher of future preachers, Bonhoeffer devoted time to making written comments on students’ manuscripts, but he did not allow negative criticism in class when a student had just presented an early effort at a sermon. The future preacher too must feel accepted, must receive Christ’s hope and love, in order to go forward and take them to others. Wherever that person’s ministry might lead in the future, Christ’s church-community must surround with prayer, sustain and uphold his servant, beginning in the seminary. ~ Dietrich Bonhoeffer,
611:No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone.1 The force of these comments is directed equally, I think, at poets who think critically and at critics whose work aims at a close appreciation of the poetic process. The main idea is that even as we must fully comprehend the pastness of the past, there is no just way in which the past can be quarantined from the present. Past and present inform each other, each implies the other and, in the totally ideal sense intended by Eliot, each co-exists with the other. ~ Edward W Said,
612:classic General Motors analysis found that 50 to 80 percent of if statements should have had an else clause (Elshoff 1976). One option is to code the else clause—with a null statement if necessary—to show that the else case has been considered. Coding null elses just to show that that case has been considered might be overkill, but at the very least, take the else case into account. When you have an if test without an else, unless the reason is obvious, use comments to explain why the else clause isn't necessary, like so: ~ Steve McConnell,
613:Many standard comments on Mozart that we meet in this context, assertions such as "Mozart simply did not understand himself", reinforce the idea that artistic conscience is one of the inborn functions of a person, and therefore of Mozart. But conscience, whatever its specific form, is innate to no one. At most the potential for forming a conscience is a natural human endowment. This potential is activated and shaped into a specific structure through a person's life with others. The individual conscience is society-specific. ~ Norbert Elias,
614:Sometime during the processing we got a cavity search, to the laughter and comments of the guards. I hated that day when I started to learn my miserable English vocabulary. In such situations you’re just better off if you don’t understand English. The majority of the detainees wouldn’t speak about the cavity searches we were subject to, and they would get angry when you started to talk about them. I personally wasn’t ashamed; I think the people who did these searches without good reason should be ashamed of themselves. ~ Mohamedou Ould Slahi,
615:city. He did not bother to listen to the girl’s words. Her soft English voice sounded tired and blurred under hypnosis and he would have to listen again and again to the tape anyway as Cohen transcribed it and tried to fathom where her comments, if there were any, came from. ‘And now, Joanna,’ the Professor’s voice rose slightly as he shifted on the high stool to make himself more comfortable. ‘We’ll go back again, if you please, back before the darkness, back before the dreams, back to when you were on this earth before.’ He ~ Barbara Erskine,
616:One of the most appalling comments on our present way of life is that at one time half of all the beds in our hospitals were reserved for patients with nervous and mental troubles, patients who had collapsed under the crushing burden of accumulated yesterdays and fearful tomorrows. Yet a vast majority of those people would be walking the streets today, leading happy, useful lives — if they had only heeded the words of Jesus: “Have no anxiety about the morrow”; or the words of Sir William Osler: "Live in day-tight compartments." ~ Dale Carnegie,
617:Extremism will generate both positive and negative reactions, or “engagements.” Facebook measures engagement by the number of clicks, “likes,” shares, and comments. This design feature—or flaw, if you care about the quality of knowledge and debate—ensures that the most inflammatory material will travel the farthest and the fastest. Sober, measured accounts of the world have no chance on Facebook. And when Facebook dominates our sense of the world and our social circles, we all potentially become carriers of extremist nonsense ~ Siva Vaidhyanathan,
618:the reunion show at London’s O2 arena. To ignore that might be perceived as skimping. So . . . What a huge success it was – although I say so, who shouldn’t. I refuse to be modest. Ten audiences of 16,000 loved it and gave us ten great warm, happy standing ovations, and I’ve only heard three snotty comments altogether (apart from the Daily Mail, who panned the show, claiming we had ‘mixed reviews’ – they were about as mixed as Hitler’s reviews at Nuremberg, a reference which the Mail, as a formerly pro-Nazi paper, should easily get). ~ John Cleese,
619:Covert manipulators are quite gifted at provocation. As they learn more about you, they are investigating your weak spots and catering their comments towards what they know will hurt you the most. Knowing you’re triggered by their comments gives them a sadistic sense of satisfaction that alleviates their secret sense of inferiority and strokes their delusions of grandeur, control and aptitude. Having control over your emotions also gives them the power to effectively manipulate you and convince you that you don’t deserve any better. ~ Shahida Arabi,
620:The combination of internal controls and international protectionism gave India a distorted economy, underproductive and grossly inefficient, making too few goods, of too low a quality, at too high a price. The resultant stagnation led to snide comments about what Indian economist Raj Krishna called the “Hindu rate of growth,” which averaged some 3.5 percent in the first three decades after independence (or, to be more exact, between 1950 and 1980) when other countries in Southeast Asia were growing at 8 to 15 percent or even more. ~ Shashi Tharoor,
621:I don't think that Donald Trump represents the traditional Republican values and heritage of my party. That's one reason that I don't support him. The Republican Party has always revered the individual. We led the way in abolishing slavery, for example, and we recognize the dignity and worth of every human being. it is clear that Donald Trump, by his derogatory comments, by his mocking of the most vulnerable people in our society, by his marginalization of ethnic and religious minorities, doesn't reflect the traditional Republican values. ~ Gwen Ifill,
622:There is no such thing as constructive criticism,” says John Gottman. “All criticism is painful.” He is correct. We never like to hear that there is something “wrong” with us, or that something needs changing, especially if this message is coming from the loved one we most depend on. Psychologist Jill Hooley’s work at Harvard measures the impact of critical, hostile comments made by loved ones and shows just how venomous disparagement by those we rely on can be. This censure may even trigger relapse of mental illness, such as depression. ~ Sue Johnson,
623:After discussion and careful review of her answers, there was nothing in her comments that we could prove was a lie beyond a reasonable doubt. There was no moment when investigators caught her in a lie. She did not at any point confess wrongdoing or indicate that she knew what she had done with her emails was wrong. Whether we believed her or not, we had no significant proof otherwise. And there was no additional work the investigators thought they should do. This case was done. Now the American people needed to know what the FBI had found. ~ James Comey,
624:I think there's a danger with any great art, that if you begin to test your ideas on other people, and get their opinions before making decisions, or if you pay too much attention to what other people say about what you create, that it really pollutes your expression. I think that I'm much more about pure art and honesty and expressing exactly what I feel, and not caring so much what anyone says. However, I do respect, and I do pay attention to everyone's comments. And I do take them into consideration. But I don't base my decisions by it ~ Marilyn Manson,
625:expansive sky of a “yes” that had endless room for grouchiness and irritation. Critical comments continued to arise, and with yes they continued to pass. When my mind suggested that I was using a gimmick that wouldn’t work for long, saying yes to the story allowed the thought to dissolve. I wasn’t resisting anything or holding on to anything. Moods and sensations and thoughts moved through the friendly skies of Radical Acceptance. I felt the inner freedom that comes from agreeing unconditionally to life. I was inviting Mara to tea. We bring alive the ~ Tara Brach,
626:Marriage problems? Something to do with the kids? Rachel remembered all the time she used to devote to giant-seeming problems about sex, misbehaving children and misunderstood comments, broken appliances and money. It wasn’t that she now knew those problems didn’t matter. Not at all. She longed for them to matter. She longed for the tricky tussle of life as a mother and a wife. How wonderful to be Cecilia Fitzpatrick driving home to her daughters after hosting a successful Tupperware party, worrying over whatever was quite rightfully worrying her. ~ Liane Moriarty,
627:The media are very dishonest. In fact, in covering my comments, the dishonest media did not explain that I called the fake news the enemy of the people - the fake news. They dropped off the word "fake." And all of the sudden, the story became, the media is the enemy. They take the word "fake" out, and now I'm saying, oh, no, this is no good. But that's the way they are. So I'm not against the media. I'm not against the press. I don't mind bad stories if I deserve them. And I tell you, I love good stories, but we won't - I don't get too many of them. ~ Donald Trump,
628:Another example was relentlessly expressed during Hillary Clinton’s campaign for the presidency, and especially since her defeat: the assertion that she was the victim of misogynistic comments and that she lost because she was a woman. None of it is true. But it keeps feminists thinking of women as victims — and people who think of themselves as victims are rendered weak....Modern feminists are afraid of life. They are afraid of differences of opinion, and especially afraid of men.....Feminists are outraged and unduly stressed by much of life itself. ~ Dennis Prager,
629:I look at Kitty, who's braiding Chris's hair in microbraids. She's being extra quiet so we forget she's here and don't kick her out. 'I think that as long as you're ready and it's what you want to do and you're protecting yourself, then it's okay and you should do what you want to do.'

Margot says, 'Society is far too caught up in shaming a woman for enjoying sex and applauding a man. I mean, all of the comments are about how Lara Jean is a slut, but nobody's saying anything about Peter, and he's right there with her. It's a ridiculous double standard. ~ Jenny Han,
630:Many jocular comments followed, as did another onslaught of "heil Hitlering." You know, it actually makes me wonder if anyone ever lost an eye or injured a hand or wrist with all of that. You'd only need to be facing the wrong way at the wrong time or stand marginally too close to another person. Perhaps people did get injured. Personally, I can only tell you that no one died from it, or at least, not physically. There was, of course, the matter of forty million people I picked up by the time the whole thing was finished, but that's getting all metaphoric. ~ Markus Zusak,
631:A mathematician is bound to be horrified by my mathematical comments, since he has always been trained to avoid indulging in thoughts and doubts of the kind I develop. He has learned to regard them as something contemptible and […] he has acquired a revulsion from them as infantile. That is to say, I trot out all the problems that a child learning arithmetic, etc., finds difficult, the problems that education represses without solving. I say to those repressed doubts: you are quite correct, go on asking, demand clarification! ~ Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Grammar (1932).,
632:When I have a writing workshop, I like to have people that are anthropologists and people who are poking around in other fields, I like to have them all in the same workshop, and not worry about genre. I like to mix it up, because the kind of comments you can get from a fiction writer about your poetry are going to be very different than what you'll get from a poet. Or the comments you'll get from a filmmaker about your performance are going to be very different. My writing workshop is about mixing it up, cross-pollinating, not only in genres but in occupations. ~ Sandra Cisneros,
633:The ownership of slaves became for many immigrants the single most important symbol of their success in the New World, although few of them ever participated in the economy of the large plantation. The small slaveholding culture of the colonial frontier had been largely responsible for the initial expansion of the antebellum South, and that culture persisted. The comments of travelers are confirmed by the census returns and tax records: these people only infrequently became large planters. Furthermore, their ethnicity survived until the last decades of the antebellum ~ James Oakes,
634:(...) many of these comments were unarguable mean-spirited and insulting, and no attempt was made to disguise them as flirting. I was clearly being overtly sexualized by these strangers, and not because I was deemed attractive, but simply because I appeared to be a woman. And the purpose of such blatantly vulgar remarks was not to express attraction or potencially garner my interest, but rather to exert a modicum of control over me: to make me feel uncomfortable, intimidated, angry, or fearful, to force me to look away or to cross the street to avoid their harassment. ~ Julia Serano,
635:Humor, particularly dark humor, is a common way to communicate true concern without the risk of feeling silly afterwards, and without overtly
showing fear. But how does this type of remark evolve? One doesn’t consciously direct the mind to search all files for something funny to say. comments. [...] But
with this type of humor, an idea comes into consciousness that, in context, seems so outlandish as to be ridiculous. And that’s precisely why it’s
funny. The point is, though, that the idea came into consciousness. Why? Because all the information was there. ~ Gavin de Becker,
636:Michael Crichton comments, “Animals raised in isolation, without parents, without guidance, were not fully functional. Zoo animals frequently could not care for their offspring, because they had never seen it done. They would ignore their infants, or roll over and crush them, or simply become annoyed with them and kill them. . . . Adapative behavior was a kind of morality; it was behavior that had evolved over many generations because it was found to succeed—behavior that allowed members of the species to cooperate, to live together, to hunt, to raise young.”59 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
637:You’re one of the best men I know. You wear your tats and piercings and those damn leather bracelets that only you could get away with. But inside you are one big teddy bear. When someone you love needs you, there is nothing you won’t do for them. When I needed you, you were always there. I’ve never questioned your heart. It’s made of fucking gold, and we all know it. We laugh at your crude jokes and snide comments because we know they mean nothing. It’s part of your shield. Underneath, I don’t know many men that compare. You’re one of the best, Dewayne. One of the best. ~ Abbi Glines,
638:Obviously, you take the risk to step over the line any time you do something where comedians interact with each other. Like a roast, somebody's always going to cross over the line. As far as the public goes, I like feedback, I like to hear laughter, and I like the occasional pointed heckle, but it's true: Everybody thinks that they need to express their opinion now. There's been this sea change where people are constantly writing to me directly about stuff, where in the past you'd never hear about it, because nobody would try to find you to make one of their stupid comments. ~ Doug Benson,
639:I have been villainized because of my identity - I've received nasty blog comments and emails just based on my willingness to identify with feminism by people who clearly don't understand what I value and why I identify as a feminist. Ultimately, I'm less concerned with whether or not people identify as feminist and am more concerned with whether or not people understand what feminism is. If they don't want to identify as a feminist that's fine. I respect people's decision to identify any way they want and expect that same respect in return, although I don't always get it. ~ Julie Zeilinger,
640:graduates of elite American universities who had little sense of what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of them decided to get a job working for a Wall Street investment bank or management consultancy. If you don’t know what your passion is or what you really want to do, they said, then “you might as well go to Wall Street and make a lot of money if you can’t think of anything better to do.”36 And I have heard similar comments from young graduates of selective colleges and universities. Nobody has ever taught them that what you do influences the kind of person you will become. ~ Leonard Sax,
641:Knuth goes on to acknowledge that he doesn’t intend to cut himself off completely from the world. He notes that writing his books requires communication with thousands of people and that he wants to be responsive to questions and comments. His solution? He provides an address—a postal mailing address. He says that his administrative assistant will sort through any letters arriving at that address and put aside those that she thinks are relevant. Anything that’s truly urgent she’ll bring to Knuth promptly, and everything else he’ll handle in a big batch, once every three months or so. ~ Cal Newport,
642:If the critical voice within says the same denigrating things about everyone, no matter how successful, how reliable can it be? Maybe its comments are chatter, not wisdom. There will always be people better than you—that’s a cliché of nihilism, like the phrase, In a million years, who’s going to know the difference? The proper response to that statement is not, Well, then, everything is meaningless. It’s, Any idiot can choose a frame of time within which nothing matters. Talking yourself into irrelevance is not a profound critique of Being. It’s a cheap trick of the rational mind. ~ Jordan Peterson,
643:If the critical voice within says the same denigrating things about everyone, no matter how successful, how reliable can it be? Maybe its comments are chatter, not wisdom. There will always be people better than you—that’s a cliché of nihilism, like the phrase, In a million years, who’s going to know the difference? The proper response to that statement is not, Well, then, everything is meaningless. It’s, Any idiot can choose a frame of time within which nothing matters. Talking yourself into irrelevance is not a profound critique of Being. It’s a cheap trick of the rational mind. ~ Jordan B Peterson,
644:When a man neglects to honor a woman’s hurt feelings he invalidates them and increases her hurt. It is hard for him to understand her hurt because he is not as vulnerable to uncaring comments and tones. Consequently, a man may not even realize how much he is hurting his partner and thus provoking her resistance. Similarly, women don’t realize how they are hurtful to men. Unlike a man, when a woman feels challenged the tone of her speech automatically becomes increasingly mistrusting and rejecting. This kind of rejection is more hurtful to a man, especially when he is emotionally involved. ~ John Gray,
645:I figured if I was tired enough, I wouldn’t miss Travis.
Which kind of worked, until after the three o’clock fussing-wombat feed and I got back into bed and his side of the bed was cold.

Or until I tripped over his laundry that he’d left on the bathroom floor. That he always left on the bathroom floor.

Or until I sat at the table at breakfast time and his chair was too damn empty. There was no smartarse comments, no bursts of laughter. His blue eyes didn’t spark with humour and his sandy-blond hair didn't spike out just so.

There was no foot-holding under the table. ~ N R Walker,
646:The widow’s comments are typically what most people feel at difficult times. First, she wondered if it was some sin in her life that brought this. We all have things in our pasts that we are ashamed of. We all have skeletons in the closet. And we often fear that God is somehow “getting even” with us by bringing some calamity or disaster our way. Second she accused Elijah of killing her son, which is the way many treat God. They want to accuse God of doing things that bring us grief in order to make Him look bad. This was a horrible thing for her to do, to lay this guilt on Elijah himself. ~ R T Kendall,
647:The euro fell to as low as $1.18605, its weakest level since March 2006, having fallen below an important support at $1.20. The common currency last traded at $1.1926, down 0.6 percent from late U.S. trade on Friday. In an interview with German financial daily Handelsblatt published on Friday, ECB President Mario Draghi said the risk of the central bank not fulfilling its mandate of preserving price stability was higher now than half a year ago. "The market took his comments to mean that he is ready to adopt quantitative easing," said Shin Kadota, chief forex strategist at Barclays in Tokyo. ~ Anonymous,
648:Many jocular comments followed, as did another onslaught of “heil Hitlering.” You know, it actually makes me wonder if anyone ever lost an eye or injured a hand or wrist with all of that. You’d only need to be facing the wrong way at the wrong time or stand marginally too close to another person. Perhaps people did get injured. Personally, I can only tell you that no one died from it, or at least, not physically. There was, of course, the matter of forty million people I picked up by the time the whole thing was finished, but that’s getting all metaphoric. Allow me to return us to the fire. ~ Markus Zusak,
649:I think cultural criticism and long-form critique have their place and their purpose. But for a creator, it’s so easy for the discussion surrounding a phenomenon to usurp the phenomenon itself. It’s worse, of course, with comment sections on websites and blogs, particularly anonymous comments, or the incessant chatter and opinions on social media. Everyone gets to write a headline, and when you or the thing you do is being talked about, you get to feel like a headline—an addicting feeling for sure, but also a pernicious one. The discourse builds its own body, and it’s usually a monster. ~ Carrie Brownstein,
650:chose their low prices over my painfully handcrafted selection of cookies, cupcakes, and pastries. Thus the ever growing pile of bills on my kitchen table. And I thought going into business for myself at age twenty-five was going to be glamorous. Now she was here. I bristled as she approached with bull-like intensity, her eyes focused on my table, waiting for her to cast more disparaging comments. She pointed to a fresh baked pie on my table. "I'll have a slice of that." My face stretched into a wide smile. "Really?" Her coin purse paused in midair. "Are you trying to turn away a customer? ~ Stacey Alabaster,
651:Apparently Alice's CT scan was 'unremarkable', which made her feel ashamed of her mediocrity. It reminded her of her school reports with every single box ticked 'Satisfactory' and comments like, 'A quiet student. Needs to contribute more in class.' They may as well have just come right out and written across the front, 'So boring, we don't actually know who she is.' Elisabeth's reports had some boxes ticked 'Outstanding' and others ticked 'Below Standard' and comments like, 'Can be a little disruptive.' Alice had yearned to be a little disruptive, but she couldn't work out how you got started. ~ Liane Moriarty,
652:because now we have perspective. When we first wrote the book you just read, we had only an inkling. As I write this, halfway into the rough draft of the third book, the big story we wanted to tell is filling out and taking shape. It’s hitting all of the big, cool issues we wanted to hit with our alien invasion series, and hitting them in what might be called the “traditional” way. Meaning: with aliens. See, Invasion got a great reception right off the bat. But among reviews, discussions, and casual comments with our core group of ideal readers, there was one thing that many people mentioned: the ending. ~ Sean Platt,
653:Between trying to forget him and trying to impress Mac, my nerves were definitely on edge. Add Tiffany to the mix, and I could see only disaster on the horizon. I just wasn’t certain how many of her silly comments I’d have patience for tonight.
I glanced over at Mac and really wished I hadn’t, because his gaze was focused on Tiffany, or as much of her as he could see, considering he was sitting right behind her. Tiffany with her hair all flowing around her, her makeup all perfect, and her shoulders bare because she was wearing a halter top.
My tolerance for silly comments was going to be zero. ~ Rachel Hawthorne,
654:No to rouge,” she said, “now and for all time.”
“We need to enhance our complexions,” Pandora protested.
“It won’t do any harm,” Cassandra chimed in. “The bottle says that Bloom of Rose is ‘delicate and inoffensive’…It’s written right there, you see?”
“The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress.”
Pandora turned to Devon. “Lord Trenear, what do you think?”
“This is one of those times when it’s best for a man to avoid thinking altogether,” he said hastily. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
655:From time to time, a complex algorithm will lead to a longer routine, and in those circumstances, the routine should be allowed to grow organically up to 100–200 lines. (A line is a noncomment, nonblank line of source code.) Decades of evidence say that routines of such length are no more error prone than shorter routines. Let issues such as the routine's cohesion, depth of nesting, number of variables, number of decision points, number of comments needed to explain the routine, and other complexity-related considerations dictate the length of the routine rather than imposing a length restriction per se. ~ Steve McConnell,
656:His body guy, Garrett Jackson, thought his boss could use a catnap—just fifteen minutes would help. With the guests still arriving, he found a quiet room, Leder’s home office, with a comfy chair and deposited Romney in it. “Rest,” Jackson said. Out in the dining area, Jackson and trip director Charlie Pearce swept the room for cameras. In April, there had been a kerfuffle when someone posted a video of Mitt speaking at a donor event in Kentucky, and another when he and his wife were overheard by the press at a Florida fund-raiser. (Ann was caught describing Hilary Rosen’s comments as an “early birthday present.”) ~ Anonymous,
657:It's huge!"
"That's what she said!"
Cue riotous laughter as our bus rumbles past Big Ben.
I want to roll my eyes, but I'm afraid pretty soon they're going to get stuck in the back of my head, and penis puns are really not worth my permanent facial damage.
By the time our bus pulls up to the Tower of London, my expectations for the day are somewhere in the basement. Call me a cynic, but since Jason spent the entire time we toured Big Ben talking about how satisfied Mrs Ben must be, my guess is that a landmark famous for its crown jewels is not going to bring out his most charming comments, either. ~ Lauren Morrill,
658:A story by Alice Park on the aging effects of fat on kids' bodies drew some pointed comments about parental accountability. "Your story is horrifying," wrote Susan Stafford of Berkeley, Calif. "But no one gains weight out of nowhere. People live in denial about food. Parents eat garbage and feed their kids the same." Diabetic Peter Baxter of Brighton, England, advocated for home cooking to combat ubiquitous ads for meals "that will kill children." Meanwhile Katy Steinmetz's TIME.com piece on state initiatives to ban big soda was widely shared on Twitter, where food writer Mark Bittman wrote, "The soda wars escalate. ~ Anonymous,
659:Blackadder was fifty-four and had come to editing Ash out of pique. He was the son and grandson of Scottish schoolmasters. His grandfather recited poetry on firelight evenings: Marmion, Childe Harold, Ragnarok. His father sent him to Downing College in Cambridge to study under F. R. Leavis. Leavis did to Blackadder what he did to serious students; he showed him the terrible, the magnificent importance and urgency of English literature and simultaneously deprived him of any confidence in his own capacity to contribute to, or change it. The young Blackadder wrote poems, imagined Dr Leavis’s comments on them, and burned them. ~ A S Byatt,
660:For now, Patton keeps his comments to himself. Volatile words could get him fired - or even killed. Patton is a man of strong beliefs, and as he will tell the press in a few weeks, he is utterly sure of the Russian danger: 'Churchill had a sense of history. Unfortunately, some of our leaders were just damn fools who had no idea of Russian history. Hell, I doubt if they even knew [that] Russia, just less than a hundred years ago, owned Finland, sucked the blood out of Poland, and were using Siberia as a prison for their own people. How Stalin must have sneered when he got through with them at all those phony conferences. ~ Bill O Reilly,
661:Thrower started toward them at a trot, then remembered his dignity and walked the rest of the way. There was nothing in the gospels to imply that the Lord ever ran– only walked, as befitted his high station. Of course, Paul had his comments about running a good race, but that was allegory. A minister was supposed to be a shadow of Jesus Christ, walking in His way and representing Him to the people. It was the closest these people would ever come to beholding the majesty of God. It was Reverend Thrower's duty to deny the vitality of his youth and walk at the reverent pace of an old man, though he was only twenty-four. ~ Orson Scott Card,
662:In my high school yearbook there is a note from a girl who wrote, 'I like you even though you are very mean.' I do not remember the girl who wrote this note. I do not remember being mean to her, or to anyone, for that matter. I do remember that I was feral in high school, socially awkward, emotionally closed off, completely lost.
Or maybe I don't want to remember being mean because I've changed in the twenty years between then and now. Around my junior year, I went from being quiet and withdrawn to being mean, where mean was saying exactly what I thought and making sarcastic comments relentlessly. Sincerity was dead to me. ~ Roxane Gay,
663:According to Yale professor Richard Foster, in the 1920s the average life span of an S&P 500 company was sixty-seven years.14 Not anymore. Today the final three Ds in our chain reaction can disassemble companies and disrupt industries almost overnight, reducing the average life span of a twenty-first-century S&P 500 company to only fifteen years. Ten years from now, according to research done at the Babson School of Business, more than 40 percent of today’s top companies will no longer exist.15 “By 2020,” comments Foster, “more than three quarters of the S&P 500 will be companies that we have not heard of yet. ~ Peter H Diamandis,
664:In 2014, a senior executive from the Ford Motor Company told an audience at the Consumer Electronics Show, “We know everyone who breaks the law, we know when you’re doing it. We have GPS in your car, so we know what you’re doing.” This came as a shock and surprise, since no one knew Ford had its car owners under constant surveillance. The company quickly retracted the remarks, but the comments left a lot of wiggle room for Ford to collect data on its car owners. We know from a Government Accountability Office report that both automobile companies and navigational aid companies collect a lot of location data from their users. ~ Bruce Schneier,
665:These terms are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien, whose unequaled mastery of the language of myth gave the twentieth century one of its great works of mythic literature.  His comments are relevant to any thoughtful study of myth: “...I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence.  I much prefer history, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers.  I think that many confuse ‘applicability’ with ‘allegory’; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the author.”[ ~ John Michael Greer,
666:[W]e pray that [this domination-free order] - God’s kingdom - might come on earth every time we pray the Lord’s Prayer: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” But we often miss the connection because of the cadence with which we most frequently pray this prayer: “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done” is separated by a single-beat pause from “on earth, as it is in heaven.” But the syntax is clear: we are praying for the coming of God’s kingdom on earth. As Dominic Crossan comments: heaven is already in good shape; what we pray for is that the kingdom of God may also be on earth. That is the dream of God. ~ Marcus J Borg,
667:trauma increases the risk of misinterpreting whether a particular situation is dangerous or safe. You can get along with other people only if you can accurately gauge whether their intentions are benign or dangerous. Even a slight misreading can lead to painful misunderstandings in relationships at home and at work. Functioning effectively in a complex work environment or a household filled with rambunctious kids requires the ability to quickly assess how people are feeling and continuously adjusting your behavior accordingly. Faulty alarm systems lead to blowups or shutdowns in response to innocuous comments or facial expressions. ~ Bessel A van der Kolk,
668:Are you still fixed on the notion of staying here?” he asked, deftly carving a peach and divesting it of the pit. He handed her a neat golden half.
“Oh yes.” Evie accepted the peach and took a bite, its tart juice trickling over her tongue.
“I was afraid you might say that,” he replied dryly. “It’s a mistake, you know. You have no idea of what you’ll be exposed to… the obscenities and lewd comments, the lecherous gazes, the groping and pinching… and that’s just at my house. Imagine what it would be like here.”
Uncertain whether to frown or smile, Evie regarded him curiously. “I will manage,” she said.
“I’m sure you will, pet. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
669:When St Paul comments that we die every moment, part of what he has in mind is perhaps the fact that we can only live well by buckling the self to the needs of others, in a kind of little death, or petit mort. In doing so, we rehearse and prefigure that final self-abnegation which is death. In this way, death in the sense of a ceaseless dying to self is the source of the good life. If this sounds unpleasantly slavish and self-denying, it is only because we forget that if others do this as well, the result is a form of reciprocal service which provides the context for each self to flourish. The traditional name for this reciprocity is love. ~ Terry Eagleton,
670:That backpack's like your symbol of freedom," he comments.
"Guess so," I say.
"Having an object that symbolizes freedom might make a person happier than actually getting the freedom it represents."
"Sometimes," I say.
"Sometimes," he repeats. "You know, if they had a contest for the world's shortest replies, you'd win hands down."
"Perhaps."
"Perhaps," Oshima says, as if fed up. "Perhaps most people in the world aren't trying to be free, Kafka. They just think they are. It's all an illusion. If they really were set free, most people would be in a real bind. You'd better remember that. People actually prefer not being free. ~ Haruki Murakami,
671:Has she read any of the comments? That's what I wondered. Did the woman from YouTube video understand that the public wasn't on her side? She made her requests with such placid mirth, as if talking into a seashell or a shattered phone, as if Matyas Füst fans weren't actively looking for her, probably in order to finish her off. Even those who'd begun to condemn Füst believed his apologies should be directed elsewhere ("It'd his fincée I feel sorry for in all of this..."). Those who claimed they wanted to feel concern for Youtube woman didn't like that she'd filmed her allegations while high. And yet she might not have been able to talk about it sober. ~ Helen Oyeyemi,
672:I think we can all agree that feeling shame is an incredibly painful experience. What we often don't realize is that perpetrating shame is equally as painful, and no one does that with the precision of a partner or a parent. These are the people who know us the best and who bear witness to our vulnerabilities and fears. Thankfully, we can apologize for shaming someone we love, but the truth is that those shaming comments leave marks. And shaming someone we love around vulnerability is the most serious of all security breaches. Even if we apologize, we've done serious damage because we've demonstrated our willingness to use sacred information as a weapon. ~ Bren Brown,
673:Only bad religions depend on mysteries, just as bad governments depend on secret police. Truth, beauty, and goodness are not mysterious, they are the comments, most obvious, most essential facts of life, like sunlight, air, and bread. Only folk whose heads are muddled by expensive educations think truth, beauty, goodness are rare private properties. Nature is more liberal. The universe keeps nothing essential from us--it is all present, all gift. God is the universe plus mind. Those who say God, or the universe, or nature is mysterious, are like those who call these things jealous or angry. They are announcing the state of their lonely, muddled minds. ~ Alasdair Gray,
674:The Largest Disservice to LISP is most frequently done whenever a LISP advocate opens his/her mouth. LISP advocates have been, in my limited and biased experience, some of the most arrogant and condescending bastards in the world. (…) I have heard more than one LISP advocate state such subjective comments as, "LISP is the most powerful and elegant programming language in the world" and expect such comments to be taken as objective truth. I have never heard a Java, C++, C, Perl, or Python advocate make the same claim about their own language of choice. ~ Comment on Slashdot - Response: "To be fair, the Java, C++, C, Perl or Python advocate wouldn't have much of a case...",
675:The thing was, I forgot that Valentine's Day when you were single was completely different from when you were in a relationship. If you were shacked up with someone and said you didn't celebrate, no biggie. But when you were single, you got the LOOK. And you got the comments about how you would find someone some day.

After about six hours of that, well, even I was starting to feel a deep sense of unhappiness crushing down on me. I literally felt weighted by it, like there was something trying to drag me down to the floor where I was expected to cry and bemoan my singledom like any respectable woman steadily heading past acceptable marriageable age. ~ Jessica Gadziala,
676:Later in 1776, Paine accompanied the Continental army in its retreat from New Jersey to Philadelphia.   During this time, Paine began a new series of pamphlets.   Eventually, these sixteen pamphlets became The American Crisis.   In them, Paine comments on the American war effort and urges the colonists to keep fighting.    This pamphlet, the first in the series, is perhaps the most famous.   The pamphlet was read to George Washington’s troops in December 1776.   Days later, these same troops crossed the Delaware River and attacked the British encampment in Trenton, New Jersey.   The pamphlet opens with a familiar line: “These are the times that try men’s souls. ~ Thomas Paine,
677:He stretches his legs out underneath the table and checks Facebook on his phone. It tells him things he doesn’t need to know about people he hasn’t seen in years. He absorbs their aggressively worded opinions and quasi-political hate-speak. He sees a photograph of his ex-girlfriend with her new boyfriend smiling at a picnic and he realises, with a strange cascade of emptiness, that she is pregnant and wearing an engagement ring. The comments are jubilant. He reads every word before he forces himself to put his phone down. A loneliness descends. He feels its familiar talons grabbing him violently out of his chair and hanging him, swinging, up by the ceiling. Pete ~ Kate Tempest,
678:Facebook provides numerous examples of variable social rewards. Logging-in reveals an endless stream of content friends have shared, comments from others, and running tallies of how many people have “liked” something (figure 21). The uncertainty of what users will find each time they visit the site creates the intrigue needed to pull them back again. While variable content gets users to keep searching for interesting tidbits in their Newsfeeds, a click of the “Like” button provides a variable reward for the content’s creators. “Likes” and comments offer tribal validation for those who shared the content, and provide variable rewards that motivate them to continue posting. ~ Nir Eyal,
679:Paul Davies comments . . . To date biology is rooted in the old physics, the physics of the nineteenth century. Newtonian mechanics and theromodynamics play the central role. More recent developments, such as field theory and quantum mechanics, are largely ignored. In spite of the fact that the molecular basis for life is so crucial, and that molecular processes are quantum mechanical, atoms are treated like classical building blocks to be fitted together. Distinctively quantum effects, such as nonlocal correlations, coherence, and phase information, let alone possible exotic departures from quantum mechanics as suggested above, are not considered relevant.21 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
680:True, there
are those in our league who take even less time. But they don't do any research. They do a
handful of the more well-known spots, cruise through without eating a thing, write brief
comments. It's their business, not mine. If I may be perfectly frank, I doubt that many writers
take as many pains as I do at this level of reportage. It's the kind of work that can break you if
you're too serious about it, or you can kick back and do almost nothing. The worst of it is,
whether you're earnest or you loaf, the difference will hardly show in the finished piece. On the
surface. Only in the finer points can you find any hint of the distinction ~ Haruki Murakami,
681:My lady,” he said seriously, “the things I said about your mourning gowns… I'm sorry. I had no right to make such comments.” He paused with a hard, uncomfortable swallow. “Am I forgiven?” Holly studied him with a faint smile. “Not yet.” Her gaze was teasing, almost flirtatious, and Zachary realized with a sudden rush of delight that she enjoyed having the upper hand over him. She was so pert and adorable that it took all his power not to snatch her in his arms and kiss her senseless. “Then what will you have me do?” he asked softly, and for the most delicious moment of his life, they stood smiling at each other. “I'll let you know when I think of something, Mr. Bronson. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
682:WILL PUSHED HIS EMPTY PLATE AWAY AND LEANED BACK IN HIS chair, feeling that delightfully uncomfortable sensation that comes when you eat just a little too much of something really delicious. Lady Pauline smiled fondly at the young man. “Would you like extras, Will? There’s plenty left.” He patted his stomach, surprised to find that it seemed to actually feel tighter than normal, as if it were straining at his clothes from the inside. “Thank you, no, Pauline,” he said. “I’ve already had seconds.” “You’ve already had fourths,” Halt commented. Will frowned at him, then turned back to Pauline, smiling at her. At least she didn’t make disparaging comments the way her husband did. ~ John Flanagan,
683:Facebook Facebook provides numerous examples of variable social rewards. Logging-in reveals an endless stream of content friends have shared, comments from others, and running tallies of how many people have “liked” something (figure 21). The uncertainty of what users will find each time they visit the site creates the intrigue needed to pull them back again. While variable content gets users to keep searching for interesting tidbits in their Newsfeeds, a click of the “Like” button provides a variable reward for the content’s creators. “Likes” and comments offer tribal validation for those who shared the content, and provide variable rewards that motivate them to continue posting. ~ Nir Eyal,
684:Austin’s PA put something in his Coke, and he had the shits all night long,” John says between fits of laughter. “It wasn’t all night long; it was till there was nothing left inside of me,” I correct him while Noah chuckles. “Wow. I thought my PA hated me,” Noah says. “She caught you fucking her mother on your desk,” I remind him. “She didn’t knock. It wasn’t my fault.” He points at me. “You had sex with her the day before,” I also point out. He shrugs his shoulders, thinking nothing more of it. “At least she didn’t try to kill me.” “She put your face on a billboard with your home address and open invitation for free lodging for the homeless,” John comments, still laughing. “We ~ Natasha Madison,
685:It is not to his own age, but to those following, and especially to our own time, that we are to look for the shaping and enormous influence upon human life of the genius of this poet. And it is measured not by the libraries of comments that his works have called forth, but by the prevalence of the language and thought of his poetry in all subsequent literature, and by its entrance into the current of common thought and speech. It may be safely said that the English-speaking world and almost every individual of it are different from what they would have been if Shakespeare had never lived. Of all the forces that have survived out of his creative time, he is one of the chief. ~ William Shakespeare,
686:Because if you make me do that, I will make a stink that you'll never get off your shiny suits. I will sue the network. I will sue the studio. I will sue each one of you personally. I will send our beloved sponsors blogs that claim you' - she pointed to the white man and the black man - 'enjoy having monkey sex on the office furniture while she' - now she pointed to the Asian woman - 'likes to watch and spank herself. Is it true? Well, it will be in a blog. Several blogs, in fact. Then I'll go to other computers and add comments, stuff like Montague likes it rough or with toy or small farm animals. Get PETA on your ass. Then I'll send those blogs to your families. Do you get the drift? ~ Harlan Coben,
687:by the Draft Committee. The present text makes clear exactly what the Council affirmed and denied. Obviously, those who signed the articles do not necessarily concur in every interpretation advocated by the commentary. Not even the members of the Draft Committee are bound by this, and perhaps not even Dr. Sproul, since his text underwent certain editorial revisions. However, this commentary represents an effort at making clear the precise position of the International Council on Biblical Inerrancy as a whole.
In the editing process, we strove to take account of the comments that were forwarded to us. In some cases, we could not concur with those who made comments,
and therefore the ~ R C Sproul,
688:It wasn’t just other writers who weighed in. The comments section of Shawna’s article blew up. “I might need a whole day to myself to recharge after a party, and I really feel like I was hung over: headache, nausea, fatigue, the whole shebang,” one reader comments. Another agrees: “I often need the next day to recover, which is why I try really hard to never schedule two days of socializing back to back.” And: “I definitely become physically unwell if I overextend.” When Shawna wrote about her experiences, she had no idea she would hit on a topic that resonated so deeply with many introverts. It turns out Shawna was not alone in her introvert hangover. The introvert hangover is real. ~ Jenn Granneman,
689:Meaning “by way of the anus.” “Per annum,” with two n’s, means “yearly.” The correct answer to the question, “What is the birth rate per anum?” is zero (one hopes). The Internet provides many fine examples of the perils of confusing the two. The investment firm that offers “10% interest per anum” is likely to have about as many takers as the Nigerian screenwriter who describes himself as “capable of writing 6 movies per anum” or the Sri Lankan importer whose classified ad declares, “3600 metric tonnes of garlic wanted per anum.” The individual who poses the question “How many people die horse riding per anum?” on the Ask Jeeves website has set himself up for crude, derisive blowback in the Comments block. ~ Mary Roach,
690:we call the editorial plural or the editorial “we,” which a writer or speaker uses to communicate a point. This device is often used by dignitaries; a king, a pope, or another person in high office prefaces his or her comments by saying, “We decree” or “We declare,” even though the person is speaking only for himself or herself. More specifically, there is a Hebrew literary device called the plural of intensity, which calls attention to the depth of the character of God, in whom resides all elements of deity and majesty. So, I believe that the name Elohim is compatible with the doctrine of the Trinity and may be hinting in that direction, but the name itself does not demand that we infer that God is triune ~ R C Sproul,
691:Plants continually monitor every aspect of their environment: spatial orientation; presence, absence, and identity of neighbors; disturbance; competition; predation, whether microbial, insect, or animal; composition of atmosphere; composition of soil; water presence, location, and amount; degree of incoming light; propagation, protection, and support of offspring (yes, they recognize kin); communications from other plants in their ecorange; biological oscillations, including circadian; and not only their own health but the health of the ecorange in which they live. As Anthony Trewavas comments, this “continually and specifically changes the information spectrum” to which the plants are attending. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
692:Many scholars forget, it seems to me, that our enjoyment of the great works of literature depends more upon the depth of our sympathy than upon our understanding. The trouble is that very few of their laborious explanations stick in the memory. The mind drops them as a branch drops its overripe fruit. ... Again and again I ask impatiently, "Why concern myself with these explanations and hypotheses?" They fly hither and thither in my thought like blind birds beating the air with ineffectual wings. I do not mean to object to a thorough knowledge of the famous works we read. I object only to the interminable comments and bewildering criticisms that teach but one thing: there are as many opinions as there are men. ~ Helen Keller,
693:My thirty-three-year-old body is well past school age, seriously overused. I still trust it like a cabbie trusts his old taxi. Not perfect all right, but will do the trick at least one more night, then one more night. My sunless flaccidity still looks good in dim light, good enough. Most men like pale skin, and are incapable of noticing its subtle defects once I’ve got them by the quivering dick. Occasionally, a jerk may make a few smart-ass comments too many. I’ll tell him to go fuck his own mother instead. If he freaks out, well, he’ll have to talk to Ah Bill or one of his buddies. The girls in this building are protected by the 14K triads. Ah Bill is our resident da dun security manager, invisible unless there’s trouble. ~ Jason Y Ng,
694:I close my eyes at his intimate touch. It’s a slow movement, not one meant to seduce. It’s one to show how much he loves me, and I flatten my lips, fighting the urge to cry. Noah nudges me toward him and if it wasn’t for his hold, I’d drop like a house of cards.
I fall into him, and Noah wraps me in his arms. “It’s okay, baby. We’re okay.”
I cling tighter to him, because it doesn’t feel okay. For the past two months, life was good and easy and everything I dreamed it could be. Despite my efforts, the muscles at the corner of my mouth tremble. I wanted to be done with tears and with whispered comments thrown in my direction like knives and with this overwhelming sense that I’m less and that I’ll never belong. ~ Katie McGarry,
695:Finally, this is, in many ways, a book about a young man’s long journey back to a place he can call home. Writing his story has reminded me again and again that no one is more blessed by his home life than I am. I want to thank the three lovely and intelligent women who make it so: my daughters, Emi and Bobi—each of whom has lent her own unique talents to the making of this book—and my wife, Sharon. Her thoughtful reading of the manuscript, her many conversations with me about it, and her deeply insightful comments and suggestions have vastly improved it on every conceivable level. Her love, her confidence, and her continual support have made writing it possible in the first place. Without her, there would be no books. ~ Daniel James Brown,
696:Many legacy institutions (like Kodak) once were able to make a great living resting on their laurels. According to Yale professor Richard Foster, in the 1920s the average life span of an S&P 500 company was sixty-seven years.14 Not anymore. Today the final three Ds in our chain reaction can disassemble companies and disrupt industries almost overnight, reducing the average life span of a twenty-first-century S&P 500 company to only fifteen years. Ten years from now, according to research done at the Babson School of Business, more than 40 percent of today’s top companies will no longer exist.15 “By 2020,” comments Foster, “more than three quarters of the S&P 500 will be companies that we have not heard of yet. ~ Peter H Diamandis,
697:An endless series of gambits backed by gigantic investments encouraged young people entering the online world for the first time to create standardized presences on sites like Facebook. Commercial interests promoted the widespread adoption of standardized designs like the blog, and these designs encouraged pseudonymity in at least some aspects of their designs, such as comments, instead of the proud extroversion that characterized the first wave of web culture.

Instead of people being treated as the sources of their own creativity, commercial aggregation and abstraction sites presented anonymized fragments of creativity as products that might have fallen from the sky or been dug up from the ground, obscuring the true sources. ~ Jaron Lanier,
698:Oh, stick a cork in it, B," Jen snarled at Decebel.
Vasile cocked his head to the side as he looked at Jen. "B?"
"Yeah. Ya know, for Beta. Although, I like it because I could also be calling him the technical term for a female dog and he wouldn't know it. So really, calling him B totally works to my advantage," Jen explained in all seriousness.
Everyone turned when a quick burst of laughter came from the right side of the room. When Sorin saw everyone turn their eyes on him, he quickly began coughing.
Holding up his hands, he finally composed himself. "Pardon me, Alpha. I seemed to have swallowed wrong."
"You have to be careful while swallowing smart ass comments, Sorin," Jen teased.
"They tend to have a choking effect. ~ Quinn Loftis,
699:For the first time in my life, I’m being sent home with weekly progress reports that I have to give to my father.

The reports are written by Mrs. Leibler and read and signed by Mrs. Kushel, which is my teachers’ way of saying that they’re in agreement about my behavior.

The reports list all my notable behaviors for Monday through Friday. Some of the comments are nice such as the ones about when I participate appropriately in a classroom discussion.

But most of the comments make my father slam the reports on the table and say, “Rose, for God’s sake. Keep your mouth closed when you think of a homonym” or “Do you see any of the other kids clapping their hands over their ears and screaming when they hear the fire alarm? ~ Ann M Martin,
700:Suddenly, Liam grabbed hold of me and pushed me hard against the wall, his mouth on mine, his excitement pressing against my thigh. I tried to push him away, tried to say I wasn’t in the mood after his outburst, but in the end, I thought it best to go along with it. I hated the angry Liam, who either sulked and wouldn’t speak to me for days, or berated me and made snide comments and told me how everything was my fault. So I did nothing when he lifted up my dress and yanked my knickers down, ripping them in the process. Did nothing when he picked me up and dropped me roughly onto the stairs, the hard wooden corners digging into my spine. And when he shoved himself inside me, I pretended I was as excited as him. It was better that way. Easier for me. ~ Sibel Hodge,
701:As ever, books remained a medium through which Theodore and Edith connected and interpreted the larger world. Like Edith, Theodore filled pages of his letters with talk of authors and their creations. He had carried Anna Karenina with him during this trip west and told Corinne that he “read it through with very great interest.” Although he considered Tolstoy “a great writer,” he found his work deeply unsettling. “Do you notice how he never comments on the actions of his personages? He relates what they thought or did without any remark whatever as to whether it was good or bad, as Thucydides wrote history—a fact which tends to give his work an unmoral rather than an immoral tone, together with the sadness so characteristic of Russian writers. ~ Doris Kearns Goodwin,
702:Mark’s Baptist admits that he himself is not the promised messiah—“There is one coming after me who is stronger than I am,” John says, “one whose sandals I am not worthy to untie” (Mark 1:7–8)—but strangely, John never actually acknowledges Jesus to be the one he is referring to. Even after Jesus’s perfunctory baptism, when the sky opens and the spirit of God descends upon him in the form of a dove as a heavenly voice says, “You are my son: the Beloved. In you I am well pleased,” John neither notices nor comments on this moment of divine interjection. To John, Jesus is merely another supplicant, another son of Abraham who journeys to the Jordan to be initiated into the renewed tribe of Israel. He simply moves on to the next person waiting to be baptized. ~ Reza Aslan,
703:In an extremely short period of geologic time the Earth has been saturated with several billion pounds of nonbiodegradable, often biologically unique pharmaceuticals designed to kill bacteria. Many antibiotics (literally meaning “against life”) do not discriminate in their activity, but kill broad groups of diverse bacteria whenever they are used. The worldwide environmental dumping, over the past 65 years, of such huge quantities of synthetic antibiotics has initiated the most pervasive impacts on the Earth’s bacterial underpinnings since oxygen-generating bacteria supplanted methanogens 2.5 billion years ago. As bacterial researcher Stuart Levy comments . . . It has stimulated evolutionary changes that are unparalleled in recorded biologic history.4 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
704:A sutra is, so to speak, the bare thread of an exposition, the absolute minimum that is necessary to hold it together, unadorned by a single "bead" of elaboration. Only essential words are used. Often, there is no complete sentence-structure. There was a good reason for this method. Sutras were composed at a period when there were no books. The entire work had to be memorized, and so it had to be expressed as tersely as possible. Patanjali's Sutras, like all others, were intended to be expanded and explained. The ancient teachers would repeat an aphorism by heart and then proceed to amplify it with their own comments, for the benefit of their pupils. In some instances these comments, also, were memorized, transcribed at a later date, and thus preserved for us. ~ Prabhavananda,
705:In 2015, Trump had made one of his most cruel and thoughtless comments about McCain. “He’s not a war hero. He’s a war hero because he was captured. I like people who weren’t captured.” Graham knew McCain hated Trump. He knew that in Washington, you had to deal with people who hated you. But he did not impart that particular piece of advice to the president. “My chief job is to keep John McCain calm,” Graham remarked. Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell was “scared to death of John McCain. Because John knows no boundaries. He’ll pop our leadership as much as he’ll pop their leadership. And I will, at times, but mine’s more calculated. John’s just purely John. He’s just the world’s nicest man. And a media whore like me. Anyway, he’s a much nicer guy than I am. ~ Bob Woodward,
706:I… that took a lot of guts, what you did today.”
“Can’t really pretend it didn’t happen anymore, right?” And being a better person doesn’t mean hiding from or lying about who I used to be.
“So much of what you talked about is shit that happens in school very day, Aria. The gossip, the text messages, the comments. People do it all the time. Everyone does it. I’ve done it. Doesn’t make it okay but… I can see how it spiralled out of control like that.”
I shrug. “I figured, if my story makes people stop and think about what their words could do to a person, then I should tell it right?”
“Right.” He nods slowly, his eyes roaming my face.
“I miss you,” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it slips out anyway.
He offers me a sad smile. “I miss you, too, AJ. ~ K A Tucker,
707:To prove to [her friend, Swedish diplomat Count] Gyllenborg that she was not superficial, Catherine composed an essay about herself, "so that he would see whether I knew myself or not." The next day, she wrote and handed to Gyllenborg an essay titled 'Portrait of a Fifteen-Year-Old Philosopher.' He was impressed and returned it with a dozen pages of comments, mostly favorable. "I read his remarks again and again, many times [Catherine later recalled in her memoirs]. I impressed them on my consciousness and resolved to follow his advice. In addition, there was something else surprising: one day, while conversing with me, he allowed the following sentence to slip out: 'What a pity that you will marry! I wanted to find out what he meant, but he would not tell me. ~ Robert K Massie,
708:Do you ever read annual reports, paying particular attention to the CEO’s comments? No? That’s a pity, because there you’ll find countless examples of this next error, which we all fall for at one time or another. For example, if the company has enjoyed an excellent year, the CEO catalogues his indispensable contributions: his brilliant decisions, tireless efforts and cultivation of a dynamic corporate culture. However, if the company has had a miserable year, we read about all sorts of other dynamics: the unfortunate exchange rate, governmental interference, the malicious trade practices of the Chinese, various hidden tariffs, subdued consumer confidence and so on. In short: we attribute success to ourselves and failures to external factors. This is the self-serving bias. ~ Rolf Dobelli,
709:One Friday, after a particularly shattering day at the office, in which my code reviews had all come back red with snotty comments, and my manager, Peter, had gently inquired about the pace of my refactoring ("perhaps not sufficiently turbo-charged"), I arrived home in a swirl of angst, with petulance and self-recrimination locked in ritual combat to determine which would ruin my night. On the phone with Beoreg, I ordered my food with a rattling sigh, and when his brother arrived at my door, he carried something different: a more compact tub containing a fiery red broth and not one but two slabs of bread for dipping. "Secret spicy," he whispered. The soup was so hot it burned the frustration out of my, and I went to bed feeling like a fresh plate, scalded and scraped clean. ~ Robin Sloan,
710:am grateful for your comments. Friends are those who tell you the truth, even if it is hard to hear,” I told the group of Palestinian leaders. “I understand your distrust—it is born through painful experience. You are right to have these questions and concerns. Here is the key point: you refer to us as the leaders of the project but that is not how we see ourselves. Yes, we have been studying the social and economic potential of this path. The true leaders, however, can only be the peoples in the region and here in this place the leaders must be Palestinians. We can study the possibilities and we can lend our support to overcome obstacles, but the leadership role belongs to you. And there is no rush. We can wait until you tell us you are ready. Tell us what you would like to do. ~ William Ury,
711:When we eschew the ordinary world in search of adventure down the road less traveled, we need to be thinking on a grander scale. For instance, if you decide to give up a well-paying but unfulfilling job to try something that truly challenges you (which might require selling your car or downsizing your house or opting out of the rat race), you will get more than your fair share of “Why are you throwing your life away?” comments from people in your life, even well-meaning people who love you and think they have your best interests in mind. The important thing to remember is that you’re doing it to pay respect and tribute to all those people who, on their deathbeds, looked back and said: “I wish I had had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me. ~ Steve Kamb,
712:If you’ve ever taken an economics course you know that markets are supposed to be based on informed consumers making rational choices. I don’t have to tell you, that’s not what’s done. If advertisers lived by market principles then some enterprise, say, General Motors, would put on a brief announcement of their products and their properties, along with comments by Consumer Reports magazine so you could make a judgment about it.

That’s not what an ad for a car is—an ad for a car is a football hero, an actress, the car doing some crazy thing like going up a mountain or something. If you’ve ever turned on your television set, you know that hundreds of millions of dollars are spent to try to create uninformed consumers who will make irrational choices—that’s what advertising is. ~ Noam Chomsky,
713:His force was now greatly reduced from its original size. Polybius states that the army which went with him through the Pyrenees numbered only ‘fifty thousand foot and nine thousand horse’. This meant that his infantry force, by desertion, by policy, and by losses in battle, had been almost halved and his horse reduced by a quarter. Polybius, who was a distinguished general before he became a military historian, comments with practical wisdom: ‘He had now an army not so strong in number but serviceable and highly trained from the long series of wars in Spain.’ Hannibal may well have reckoned that, in view of the arduous campaigns which lay ahead, he was better off with this diminished force of battle-honed veterans than with one twice the size, less experienced and lacking in determination. ~ Ernle Bradford,
714:. . .—we’d been there [at a restaurant] for hours, laughing over little things but being serious too, very grave, she being both generous and receptive (this was another thing about her; she listened, her attention was dazzling–I never had the feeling that other people listened to me half as closely; I felt like a different person in her company, a better one, could say things to her I couldn’t say to anyone else, certainly not Kitsey [Theo's fiancé], who had a brittle way of deflating serious comments by making a joke, or switching to another topic, or interrupting, or sometimes just pretending not to hear), and it was utter delight to be with her, I loved her every minute of every day, heart and mind and soul and all of it, and it was getting late and I wanted the place never to close, never. ~ Donna Tartt,
715:Pandora grinned. “I rarely walk in a straight line,” she confessed. “I’m too distractible to keep to one direction—I keep veering this way and that, to make certain I’m not missing something. So whenever I set out for a new place, I always end up back where I started.” Lord St. Vincent turned to face her fully, the beautiful cool blue of his eyes intent and searching. “Where do you want to go?” The question caused Pandora to blink in surprise. She’d just been making a few silly comments, the kind no one ever paid attention to. “It doesn’t matter,” she said prosaically. “Since I walk in circles, I’ll never reach my destination.” His gaze lingered on her face. “You could make the circles bigger.” The remark was perceptive and playful at the same time, as if he somehow understood how her mind worked. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
716:…by Tracie Morris, “Project Princess.” It’s about a girl from the projects who doesn’t care what people think about her—she just does what makes her feel confident. Then I looked myself straight in the eyes and said, “Gabi, get over it. You look spectacular. You look amazing, so stop your bitching or do something that makes you feel better.” I took a deep breath and took off my shorts and shirt and stepped out on the beach like I owned that shit and didn’t give a fuck about all the skinny girls around me. After a while, I didn’t feel like an outsider and nobody made comments or even cared about what I looked like. The other think about being fat is that you spend too much damn time worrying about being fat and that takes time away from having fun. But I decided today would be different. And it was.” Gabi, p 273 ~ Isabel Quintero,
717:So when you guys get married and she squeezes out a litter of brats for you, you're going to have to come up with a better meet-cute than that. I don't think the kids will want to hear that you held mommy's hair while she puked up pills. I'm no expert but I could see that scarring a kid. You know, maybe pep it up. You two locked eyes at a Blockbuster video and you were fucking done for. Then they'll ask what the fuck a Blockbuster is and you can move on to other subjects."

"Frate," Edison said, brows raised like he thought the man was out of his fucking mind. Which he was, so it was a valid thought. "Who the fuck did you trade your balls into for the information about what a meet-cute is? First fucking Cyrus with his Michael Bublé, now this fuck with his rom-com comments? We're a sad excuse for bikers at this point. ~ Jessica Gadziala,
718:You don’t sound too excited about this,” Tucker comments twenty minutes later. He holds the door to the community center open for me.

“And you are?” A yellow sign decorated with balloons greets us. “This process is so hard that I have to learn how to breathe? That’s not normal.”

“You watch any of those YouTube videos?”

“God no. I didn’t want to psych myself out. Did you?”

“A few.”

“And?”

He gives me a thumbs-down. “I don’t recommend them. I’m wondering why we use brass balls to describe someone who’s really strong, because after the second video, my balls tried to climb inside my body. Plus, my YouTube history is officially fucked.”

“Ha. Exactly why I didn’t watch any.” I wag a warning finger at him. “Stay by my head during the birth or you’ll never want to have sex with me again. ~ Elle Kennedy,
719:As Donald Trump was campaigning for the Republican nomination for president in 2016 he was asked, “Have you ever asked God for forgiveness?” He replied, “I’m not sure I have. I just go and try and do a better job from there. . . . If I do something wrong, I think I just try to make it right. I don’t bring God into that picture. I don’t.”1 He created quite a stir among many religious people, so he tempered the comments a few days later. But I think he was being honest, and his comments reflect the way many people feel: in theory they believe in the forgiveness of sins, but the concept doesn’t really apply to them. Standing in stark contrast to this view is one articulated by twentieth-century existentialist theologian Paul Tillich, who once said, “Forgiveness is an answer, the divine answer, to the question implied in our existence.”2 ~ Adam Hamilton,
720:In the initial section on shamatha, the Vajra Essence has the practitioner take the mind as the path, using the specific approach of taking appearances and awareness as the path, also known as settling the mind in its natural state. In brief, this consists of observing all arising mental phenomena without grasping on to them. Your thoughts, emotions, images, and so forth are observed closely with mindfulness, but you do not encourage, discourage, or involve yourself in any way with the arising mental phenomena. The aim at this stage is to settle the mind in the substrate consciousness (alayavijñana)—the ground of the ordinary mind. The text also comments on the many meditation experiences (nyam) that may be encountered and how to behave when they appear. Pitfalls are described, along with some of the deeper possibilities of this phase of practice. ~ B Alan Wallace,
721:She never looked away. What a Crazy Woman Thinks About While Walking Down the Street She tries to walk not too fast and not too slow. She doesn’t want to attract any attention. She pretends she doesn’t hear the whistles and catcalls and lewd comments. Sometimes she forgets and leaves her house in a skirt or a tank top because it’s a warm day and she wants to feel warm air on her bare skin. Before long, she remembers. She keeps her keys in her hand, three of them held between her fingers, like a dull claw. She makes eye contact only when necessary and if a man should catch her eye, she juts her chin forward, makes sure the line of her jaw is strong. When she leaves work or the bar late, she calls a car service and when the car pulls up to her building, she quickly scans the street to make sure it’s safe to walk the short distance from the curb to the door. ~ Roxane Gay,
722:Take more selfies. Not because you need validation or likes or comments. but because you are here on this earth. Alive and holy and true. And yes, your beauty deserves to be seen and known, most especially by you. You are worthy of being the subject of your own art. It is okay to capture the process of your own becoming. To be your own kind and gentle and fierce witness. To learn the truth of your eyes and your skin and your bones. To choose to show what wants to be shown, to name what wishes to be named, to claim ownership of the story that is told about you by being the one to tell it.

Dear girl. YOU are the greatest art you will ever create. The masterpiece. The magnum opus. You’re it. However you want to be.

Look at yourself now, miracle that you are, look at yourself and soak in the wonder, until you no longer want to look away. ~ Jeanette LeBlanc,
723:Don’t grab hurtful comments and pull them close to you by rereading them and ruminating on them. Don’t play with them by rehearsing your badass comeback. And whatever you do, don’t pull hatefulness close to your heart. Let what’s unproductive and hurtful drop at the feet of your unarmored self. And no matter how much your self-doubt wants to scoop up the criticism and snuggle with the negativity so it can confirm its worst fears, or how eager the shame gremlins are to use the hurt to fortify your armor, take a deep breath and find the strength to leave what’s mean-spirited on the ground. You don’t even need to stomp it or kick it away. Cruelty is cheap, easy, and chickenshit. It doesn’t deserve your energy or engagement. Just step over the comments and keep daring, always remembering that armor is too heavy a price to pay to engage with cheap-seat feedback. ~ Bren Brown,
724:Samuel Vimes dreamed about Clues. He had a jaundiced view of Clues. He instinctively distrusted them. They got in the way. And he distrusted the kind of person who’d take one look at another man and say in a lordly voice to his companion, “Ah, my dear sir, I can tell you nothing except that he is a left-handed stonemason who has spent some years in the merchant navy and has recently fallen on hard times,” and then unroll a lot of supercilious commentary about calluses and stance and the state of a man’s boots, when exactly the same comments could apply to a man who was wearing his old clothes because he’d been doing a spot of home bricklaying for a new barbecue pit, and had been tattooed once when he was drunk and seventeen* and in fact got seasick on a wet pavement. What arrogance! What an insult to the rich and chaotic variety of the human experience! ~ Terry Pratchett,
725:All great books contain boring portions, and all great lives have contained uninteresting stretches. Imagine a modern American publisher confronted with the Old Testament as a new manuscript submitted to him for the first time. It is not difficult to think what his comments would be, for example, on the genealogies. 'My dear sir,' he would say, 'this chapter lacks pep; you can't expect your reader to be interested in a mere string of proper names of persons about whom you tell so little. You have begun your story, I admit, in fine style, and at first I was very favourably impressed, but you have altogether too much wish to tell it all. Pick out the highlights, take out the superfluous matter, and bring me back your manuscript when you have reduced it to a reasonable length.' So the modern publisher would speak, knowing the modern reader's fear of boredom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
726:People you’re contacting to create a new relationship need to see or hear your name in at least three modes of communication—by, say, an e-mail, a phone call, and a face-to-face encounter—before there is substantive recognition. • Once you have gained some early recognition, you need to nurture a developing relationship with a phone call or e-mail at least once a month. • If you want to transform a contact into a friend, you need a minimum of two face-to-face meetings out of the office. • Maintaining a secondary relationship requires two to three pings a year. • Social media pings (status updates, retweets, comments, etc.) are terrific for ongoing relationship maintenance, especially for the fringe of your network, but they don’t replace the need for one-to-one pinging with the people in your highest-priority network, those people connected to your current goals. ~ Keith Ferrazzi,
727:Don't grab hurtful comments and pull them close to you by rereading them and ruminating on them. Don't play with them by rehearsing your badass comeback. And whatever you do, don't pull hatefulness close to your heart.

Let what's unproductive and hurtful drop at the feet of your unarmored self. And no matter how much your self-doubt wants to scoop up the criticism and snuggle with the negativity so it can confirm its worst fears, or how eager the shame gremlins are to use the hurt to fortify your armor, take a deep breath and find the strength to leave what's mean-spirited on the ground. You don't even need to stomp it or kick it away.

Cruelty is cheap, easy, and chickenshit. It doesn't deserve your energy or engagement. Just step over the comments and keep daring, always remembering that armor is too heavy a price to pay to engage with cheap-seat feedback. ~ Bren Brown,
728:Excellent," said Cinder, standing up and brushing off her hands. "I was beginning to worry we wouldn't have a pilot for when it's time to take Kai back to Earth. Now I just have to worry about not having a competent one."
Thorne leaned against the crate Cress was organizing. She froze, but when she dared to peer up through her lashes, his attention was on the other side of the cargo bay. "Oh, Cinder, I've missed seeing your face when you make sarcastic comments in an attempt to hide your true feelings about me."
"Please." Rolling her eyes, Cinder started organizing the guns against the wall.
"See that eye roll? It translates to 'How am I possibly keeping my hands off you, Captain?"
"Yeah, keeping them from strangling you."
Kai folded his arms, grinning. "How come no one told me I had such steep competition?"
Cinder glared. "Don't encourage him. ~ Marissa Meyer,
729:Although there has perhaps never been a perfect mortal Sage, the Stoics believed that there was always at least one perfect immortal being: the god Zeus. The Stoic Zeus has perfect reason and virtue, like the Sage, and so the Stoics often refer to contemplating his perspective on human affairs because ‘in everything one says and does one must act as an imitator of God’ (Discourses, 2.14). Whether or not we believe in God, though, we might view their comments the basis of a kind of psychological exercise. Hercules, the favoured son of Zeus, was also revered by the Cynics and Stoics as a mythic hero and role-model. The ideal Sage is therefore godlike, a mortal having progressed so far that his wisdom and eudaimonia equal that of Zeus. The aspiring Stoic tries to make progress towards perfect wisdom by regularly contemplating the Sage and emulating his thoughts and actions. ~ Donald J Robertson,
730:They hung over the town, muted red, dark-pink, surrounded by every conceivable nuance of gray. The setting was wild and beautiful. Actually everyone should be in the streets, I thought, cars should be stopping, doors should be opened and drivers and passengers emerging with heads raised and eyes sparkling with curiosity and a craving for beauty, for what was it that was going on above our heads? However, a few glances at most were cast upward, perhaps followed by isolated comments about how beautiful the evening was, for sights like this were not exceptional, on the contrary, hardly a day passed without the sky being filled with fantastic cloud formations, each and every one illuminated in unique, never-to-be-repeated ways, and since what you see every day is what you never see, we lived our lives under the constantly changing sky without sparing it a glance or a thought. ~ Karl Ove Knausg rd,
731:Twinkle lights are the perfect metaphor for joy. Joy is not a constant. It comes to us in moments—often ordinary moments. Sometimes we miss out on the bursts of joy because we’re too busy chasing down extraordinary moments. Other times we’re so afraid of the dark that we don’t dare let ourselves enjoy the light. A joyful life is not a floodlight of joy. That would eventually become unbearable. I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration, and faith. For those of you who follow my blog, you’ll recognize this as the mantra for my gratitude posts on Fridays that I call TGIF. I turned this quote into a small badge, and part of my gratitude practice is a weekly post about what I’m Trusting, what I’m Grateful for, what Inspires me, and how I’m practicing my Faith. It’s incredibly powerful to read everyone’s comments. Joy ~ Bren Brown,
732:Good evening, Miss Peyton. I see you’re fully clothed …for a change.”
Gritting her teeth, Annabelle turned to face him. “I must confess, Mr. Hunt, I was amazed by your restraint during dinner. I had expected a rash of insulting comments from you, and yet you managed to behave like a gentleman for a full hour.”
“It was a strain,” he acknowledged gravely. “But I thought that I would leave the shocking behavior to you…” He paused delicately before adding, “…since you seem to be doing so well at it of late.”
“My friends and I did nothing wrong!”
“Did I say that I disapproved of your playing Rounders in the altogether?” he asked innocently. “On the contrary—I endorse it wholeheartedly. In fact, I think you should do it every day.”
“I wasn’t in the ‘altogether,’ ” Annabelle retorted in a sharp whisper. “I was wearing undergarments.”
“Is that what they were?” he asked lazily. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
733:Right then, Mel came into the bar, hung her jacket on the peg inside the door and jumped up on a stool in front of her husband, elbows on the bar, leaning toward him for a kiss. “Holy shit,” one of the men said. “Look at that one. Talk about a doe I’d like to bag.” Jack straightened before meeting his wife’s lips. The look on his face wasn’t a pretty one. “You know,” Mike said, laughing uncomfortably, “about our women. You boys don’t want to be giving the women around here any trouble. Trust me on this, okay?” That set up a round of hilarious laughter at the table of hunters and one of them said, unfortunately too loudly, “Maybe the girl wants to get bagged. I think we should at least ask her!” But oops—glancing over his shoulder, Mike saw Jack had heard that. And probably so had Mel. And after what those two had been through earlier in the summer, comments like that were not taken lightly. And ~ Robyn Carr,
734:Anwen uncrossed her arms, adjusted her skirt. She glanced from me to Watson. "If it's not an imposition," she said. "You can come too, Jamie. If you want."
At that, I pinched his leg.
"No!" he yelped. "No, go on. I, ah. Have a lecture."
"Are you sure?" I ask him, sniffling.
"I'm sure," he said, and reached out, very gently, to brush away a tear from my face. His dark eyes softened. He really was a better actor than I gave him credit for. "I'll see you later, pumpkin."
As I led Anwen out to the street, I texted from my bag:
Watson?
Yes, pumpkin?
New condition: you cease and desist all gourd-related nicknames.
Done. But pinch me again, and I'll start calling you pickle.
Do that, and I will find and them publish your diaries in a website with a vociferous comments section.
Thought I was not a gourd, I was most definitely not a vinegar-soaked phallic object. ~ Brittany Cavallaro,
735:khungvikki@gmail.com
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Selfishness is uncomfortable even for the selfish. Hence the rise of gated communities: the privileged don't like to be reminded of their privileges - if these carry morally dubious connotations.
Cells Selfishness is uncomfortable even for the selfish. Hence the rise of gated communities: the privileged don't like to be reminded of their privileges - if these carry morally dubious connotations. D27 through D28 selected.


2017
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Selfishness is uncomfortable even for the selfish. Hence the rise of gated communities: the privileged don't like to be reminded of their privileges - if these carry morally dubious connotations. ~ Tony Judt,
736:She thought of bringing up the subject of books, or music, but she feared that might lead to conflicting opinions. She would have liked to ask about his past, but perhaps that was a sensitive area, in light of his Welsh heritage. No, it was safer to remain quiet. When her restrained comments could no longer sustain a conversation, Winterborne was drawn into a discussion with West.
Fearing that he thought her dull, Helen fretted silently and picked at her food.
Eventually Winterborne turned back to her as the pates were being removed. “Will you play the piano after dinner?” he asked.
“I would, but I’m afraid we haven’t one.”
“No piano anywhere in the house?” There was a calculating flicker in his dark eyes.
“Please don’t buy one for me,” Helen said hastily.
That produced a sudden grin, a flash of white against cinnamon skin, so appealing that it sent a shot of warmth down to her tummy. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
737:But Mercer, you run a business. You need to participate online. These are your customers, and this is how they express themselves, and how you know if you’re succeeding.” Mae’s mind churned through a half-dozen Circle tools she knew would help his business, but Mercer was an underachiever. An underachiever who somehow managed to be smug about it. “See, that’s not true, Mae. It’s not true. I know I’m successful if I sell chandeliers. If people order them, then I make them, and they pay me money for them. If they have something to say afterward, they can call me or write me. I mean, all this stuff you’re involved in, it’s all gossip. It’s people talking about each other behind their backs. That’s the vast majority of this social media, all these reviews, all these comments. Your tools have elevated gossip, hearsay and conjecture to the level of valid, mainstream communication. And besides that, it’s fucking dorky. ~ Dave Eggers,
738:I have often observed, to my regret, that a widespread prejudice exists with regard to the educability of intelligence. The familiar proverb, "When one is stupid, it is for a long time," seems to be accepted indiscriminately by teachers with a stunted critical judgement. These teacher lose interest in students with low intelligence. Their lack of sympathy and respect is illustrated by their unrestrained comments in the presence of the children: "This child will never achieve anything... He is poorly endowed... He is not intelligent at all." I have heard such rash statements too often. They are repeated daily in primary schools, nor are secondary schools exempt from the charge. ~ Alfred Binet (1909/1975). Modern ideas about children. Translated by Suzanne Heisler. Menlo Park, CA. Les idées modernes sur les enfants, Paris, E. Flammarion, 1909., as cited in: B.R. Hergenhahn. An Introduction to the History of Psychology 2009. p. 312-3,
739:They seem nice.”
Zane raised his eyebrows. “Sure. Skinny, starving kids. I can hardly wait for the rest of the folks to turn up. Maybe we’ll have a rock star next. Or some business executive who wants to bring his laptop along so he can work while riding.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she ignored his comments. “Thanks for letting the kids go get something to eat.”
His gaze narrowed. “What has Maya told you about me?”
The only thing she could think of was her friend’s claim that Zane looked like Adam Levine. “Ah, what do you mean?”
“You’re surprised that I wouldn’t want kids to starve. I figured she’d claimed I was a jerk, but it sounds like she’s also telling you that I’m mean to children.”
“No, nothing like that.” She took a step back. “Maya thinks you’re a little, you know, uptight maybe.”
His expression hardened, and she wanted to suck back the words.
“But not in a bad way.”
“Right. ~ Susan Mallery,
740:Make interfaces programmatic rather than semantic when possible. Each interface consists of a programmatic part and a semantic part. The programmatic part consists of the data types and other attributes of the interface that can be enforced by the compiler. The semantic part of the interface consists of the assumptions about how the interface will be used, which cannot be enforced by the compiler. The semantic interface includes considerations such as "RoutineA must be called before RoutineB" or "RoutineA will crash if dataMember1 isn't initialized before it's passed to RoutineA." The semantic interface should be documented in comments, but try to keep interfaces minimally dependent on documentation. Any aspect of an interface that can't be enforced by the compiler is an aspect that's likely to be misused. Look for ways to convert semantic interface elements to programmatic interface elements by using Asserts or other techniques. ~ Steve McConnell,
741:Jace set what he was holding down on the windowsill and reached out to her. She came to lean against him, and his hand slid up under her t-shirt and rested caressingly, possessively, on the small of her back. He bent to kiss her, gently at first, but the gentleness went quickly and soon she was pressed up against the glass of the window, his hands at the hem of her shirt — his shirt —
“Jace.” She moved a little bit away. “I’m pretty sure people down there in the street can see us.”
“We could …” He gestured toward the bed. “Move…over there.”
She grinned. “You said that like it took you a while to come up with the idea.”
When he spoke, his voice was muffled against her neck. “What can I say, you make my thought processes slow down. Now I know what it’s like to be a normal person.”
“How … is it?” The things he was doing with his hands under the t-shirt were distracting.
“Terrible. I’m already way behind on my quota of witty comments for the day. ~ Cassandra Clare,
742:The central point is this: Jesus’ entire approach in the Sermon on the Mount is not only ethical but messianic—i.e., christological and eschatological. Jesus is not an ordinary prophet who says, “Thus says the Lord!” Rather, he speaks in the first person and claims that his teaching fulfills the OT, that he determines who enters the messianic kingdom, that as the Divine Judge he pronounces banishment, that the true heirs of the kingdom will be persecuted for their allegiance to him, and that he alone fully knows the will of his Father. It is methodologically indefensible for Sigal to complain that all such themes are later Christian additions and therefore to focus exclusively on points of halakic interpretation. Jesus’ authority is unique (see comments at 5:21–48), and the crowds recognized it, even if they did not always understand it. This same authority is now to be revealed in powerful, liberating miracles, signs of the kingdom’s advance (chs. 8–9; cf. 11:2–5). ~ D A Carson,
743:My narrative is at an end. I have no comments to make upon the subject of Slavery. Those who read this book may form their own opinions of the "peculiar institution." What it may be in other States, I do not profess to know; what it is in the region of Red River, is truly and faithfully delineated in these pages. This is no fiction, no exaggeration. If I have failed in anything, it has been in presenting to the reader too prominently the bright side of the picture. I doubt not hundreds have been as unfortunate as myself; that hundreds of free citizens have been kidnapped and sold into slavery, and are at this moment wearing out their lives on plantations in Texas and Louisiana. But I forbear. Chastened and subdued in spirit by the sufferings I have borne, and thankful to that good Being through whose mercy I have been restored to happiness and liberty, I hope henceforward to lead an upright though lowly life, and rest at last in the church yard where my father sleeps. ~ Solomon Northup,
744:She tries to walk not too fast and not too slow. She doesn’t want to attract any attention. She pretends she doesn’t hear the whistles and catcalls and lewd comments.
Sometimes she forgets and leaves her house in a skirt or a tank top because it’s a warm day and she wants to feel warm air on her bare skin.
Before long, she remembers. She keeps her keys in her hand, three of them held between her fingers, like a dull claw. She
makes eye contact only when necessary and if a man should catch her eye, she juts her chin forward, makes sure the line of her jaw is strong. When she leaves work or the bar
late, she calls a car service and when the car pulls up to her building, she quickly scans the street to make sure it’s safe to walk the short distance from the curb to the door.
She once told a boyfriend about these considerations and he said, “You are completely out of your mind.” She told a new friend at work and she said, “Honey, you’re not crazy. You’re a woman. ~ Roxane Gay,
745:I have begotten them and I have reared them but I have no comments to make and no advice to give. I do not know if I have done them good or ill. I do not know whether, in their own generation, they will do well or badly; I cannot even guess whether they will build because of me or in spite of me. I know only that they will build elsewhere, and that I have here no continuing city. I can barely live with my children, yet I must shortly and inconceivably live without them. I have hardly known them, hardly begun to walk in the streets of their minds and the gardens of their pleasures, hardly explored with them the city that they are, and already they begin to go their ways and to take my city with them. My exile comes implacably. By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered thee O Sion. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. I am absurd, I know; but it is the infirmity in which I glory. ~ Robert Farrar Capon,
746:Wait. First, tell me what you saw at the river."
"By the depth and weight of the footprints, the person I glimpsed at the river's edge could have been a light man or a woman."
"The prince is not much over my height and he is slender. Perhaps Mr. Anders. Wait a minute. You went outside again already, to study the footprints, while I lounged in a hot bath drinking tea?"
"If you had invited me into the bath I would have gladly delayed the trip outside."
Her throat clogged. She cleared it awkwardly."you called me obstinate."
"I do not recall doing so directly."
"You implied it. And yet you say outrageous things to me like you want to kiss me and share my bath."
He crossed his arms over his chest that she had pressed her face into, and leaned a shoulder against the door frame. "What effect, I wonder, do these contrary comments have on the lady?"
"It makes the lady want to box your ears."
"Hm. Then my work here is done." He was smiling slightly.

-Ravenna &Vitor ~ Katharine Ashe,
747:Mitt Romney's first interview with Zombie Reagan:
Mitt Romney came in with cheerful assurance, because he wasn’t capable of anything else. “Let me first welcome you back to this side of the veil, Mr. President.”
“Yeah, Mitt, it’s good to see you looking so well. Your father says hello, and he wanted me to add specially that whatever unfortunate negative things you might remember him saying to you when you were a kid, he always tried to tell you the truth and he hopes you’ve used it to improve, and he understands that even with the help of those comments, it might just not have been in you to improve. He wants you to remember he still loves you no matter what you’ve become, or even if you haven’t chosen to become any one thing in particular.”
“That’s very kind. I miss my dad even now.”
“Oh, so do I. I remember George as always that kind of guy, he had your back, whenever you’d think to watch your back, you’d find him somewhere around there, ready for action with that knife already drawn. ~ John Barnes,
748:But while the evolutionary escalator is an incredibly common expression of a belief in human exceptionalism, it doesn’t have any real basis in ecological reality. The view is one Darwin specifically rejected, which makes it all the more ironic that it is the neo-Darwinians that have spread it about so much. Darwin’s own perspective, as the English philosopher Mary Midgley comments, is much different, he did . . . not see evolution as an escalator, but as a sinuous, branching radiating pattern—not a staircase, but perhaps a bush or seaweed. Life-forms diverge from each other to meet particular needs in their various environments. Our own species figures then only as one among the many, with no special status or guarantee of supremacy. This notion has, however, always been found far less exciting than the escalator model, which has been enormously popular ever since it was promoted by Herbert Spencer, in spite of Darwin’s own rejection of it and its evident complete irrelevance to this theory.13 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
749:He was prolix, it may be admitted, but who could bear to have him cut? He loved to sit down and tell you just all about it. His use of letters for his narratives made this gossipy style more easy. First he writes and he tells all that passed. You have his letter. She at the same time writes to her friend, and also states her views. This also you see. The friends in each case reply, and you have the advantage of their comments and advice. You really do know all about it before you finish. It may be a little wearisome at first, if you have been accustomed to a more hustling style with fireworks in every chapter. But gradually it creates an atmosphere in which you live, and you come to know these people, with their characters and their troubles, as you know no others of the dream-folk of fiction. Three times as long as an ordinary book, no doubt, but why grudge the time? What is the hurry? Surely it is better to read one masterpiece than three books which will leave no permanent impression on the mind. ~ Arthur Conan Doyle,
750:We all lie. We all guard secrets—sometimes terrible ones—a side to us so dark, so shameful, that we quickly avert our own eyes from the shadow we might glimpse in the mirror. Instead we lock our dark halves deep in the basement of our souls. And on the surface of our lives, we work industriously to shape the public story of our selves. We say, “Look, world, this is me.” We craft posts on social media . . . See this wonderful lunch I’m eating at this trendy restaurant with my besties, see my sexy shoes, my cute puppy, boyfriend, tight ass in a bikini. See my gloriously perfect life . . . see what a fucking fabulous time I’m having drunk and at this party with my boobs swelling out of my sparkly tank top. Just look at those hot guys draped all over me. Aren’t you jealous . . . And then you wait to see how many people LIKE this fabricated version of yourself, your mood hinging on the number of clicks. Comments. Who commented. But darkness has a way of seeping through the cracks. It seeks the light . . . ~ Loreth Anne White,
751:It's alive and well everywhere. Native Americans get a lot of crap in the West and south west. Muslims get treated like crap in just about every country in the Western world lately. Black people are mistreated in some parts of the US still. There are black people who are racist against white people. I've recently encountered someone who decided they couldn't tolerate my presence because I'm catholic, which according them makes me a pedophile, Satan worshipper and a whore.

I've even encountered discrimination from people over seas for being American. Especially with my cousin's friends from England. They were rude to me the entire visit. They thought that I had to be an ignorant, xenophobic, racist slob just because I was from America and they spent most of the time trying to pick a fight with me to prove it.

Racism exists, but don't take the comments you read online seriously. A good 80-90% of those are trolls looking for attention or a bored teenager who thinks it's funny to be an idiot. ~ Kathryn Stockett,
752:What a Crazy Woman Thinks About While Walking Down the Street She tries to walk not too fast and not too slow. She doesn’t want to attract any attention. She pretends she doesn’t hear the whistles and catcalls and lewd comments. Sometimes she forgets and leaves her house in a skirt or a tank top because it’s a warm day and she wants to feel warm air on her bare skin. Before long, she remembers. She keeps her keys in her hand, three of them held between her fingers, like a dull claw. She makes eye contact only when necessary and if a man should catch her eye, she juts her chin forward, makes sure the line of her jaw is strong. When she leaves work or the bar late, she calls a car service and when the car pulls up to her building, she quickly scans the street to make sure it’s safe to walk the short distance from the curb to the door. She once told a boyfriend about these considerations and he said, “You are completely out of your mind.” She told a new friend at work and she said, “Honey, you’re not crazy. You’re a woman. ~ Roxane Gay,
753:12. If you do the job in a principled way, with diligence, energy and patience, if you keep yourself free of distractions, and keep the spirit inside you undamaged, as if you might have to give it back at any moment— If you can embrace this without fear or expectation—can find fulfillment in what you’re doing now, as Nature intended, and in superhuman truthfulness (every word, every utterance)—then your life will be happy. No one can prevent that. 13. Doctors keep their scalpels and other instruments handy, for emergencies. Keep your philosophy ready too—ready to understand heaven and earth. In everything you do, even the smallest thing, remember the chain that links them. Nothing earthly succeeds by ignoring heaven, nothing heavenly by ignoring the earth. 14. Stop drifting. You’re not going to re-read your Brief Comments, your Deeds of the Ancient Greeks and Romans, the commonplace books you saved for your old age. Sprint for the finish. Write off your hopes, and if your well-being matters to you, be your own savior while you can. ~ Marcus Aurelius,
754:He never comments or judges, instead listening and absorbing and never telling me anything personal in return.
But I’ve discovered that you can learn a lot without words. And what I’ve learned is hard won, because – though he’s the closest thing I have to a friend here, and as far as I know, I’m his – I have no idea what he looks like beneath his hood. It sounds impossible. It ought to be; how can you call someone a friend, know them for so long and not know what they look like? Yet I don’t. I don’t know what colour his eyes are, or his hair. I know his mouth, and the point of his chin, and his neat teeth. Once I even saw the end of his nose when he tipped his head back to laugh. But that’s all. From our first meeting, to today, he has always, always been hooded, gloved and cloaked, and he’s never removed them, never even pushed them aside, whether we’re indoors or out. When I asked him why, he told me it was safer like that. For us both. And to not ask again.
Mysterious boys are not as enjoyable in reality as they are in stories. ~ Melinda Salisbury,
755:He never comments or judges, instead listening and absorbing and never telling me anything personal in return.
But I’ve discovered that you can learn a lot without words. And what I’ve learned is hard won, because – though he’s the closest thing I have to a friend here, and as far as I know, I’m his – I have no idea what he looks like beneath his hood. It sounds impossible. It ought to be; how can you call someone a friend, know them for so long and not know what they look like? Yet I don’t. I don’t know what colour his eyes are, or his hair. I know his mouth, and the point of his chin, and his neat teeth. Once I even saw the end of his nose when he tipped his head back to laugh. But that’s all. From our first meeting, to today, he has always, always been hooded, gloved and cloaked, and he’s never removed them, never even pushed them aside, whether we’re indoors or out. When I asked him why, he told me it was safer like that. For us both. And to not ask again.
Mysterious boys are not as enjoyable in reality as they are in stories. ~ Melinda Salisbury,
756:As I demonstrated this on Bob, he fell backwards onto me, completely inert and passive, with no hint of any reflexive reaction. Startled, I pushed him gently forward to the upright position, but now he started to topple forward; I could not balance him. I had a sense of bewilderment mixed with panic. For a moment, I thought that there had suddenly been a neurological catastrophe, that he had actually lost all his postural reflexes. Could acting like this, I wondered, actually alter the nervous system? The next day I was talking with him in his dressing room before the day’s shooting began, and as we talked, I noticed that his right foot was turned in with precisely the dystonic curvature it was held in when he portrayed Leonard L. on the set. I commented on this, and Bob seemed rather startled. “I didn’t realize,” he said. “I guess it’s unconscious.” He sometimes stayed in character for hours or days; he would make comments at dinner which belonged to Leonard, not himself, as if residues of the Leonard mind and character were still adhering to him. ~ Oliver Sacks,
757:Building an airplane was nothing compared to shepherding research through Langley's grueling review process. "Present your case, build, sell it,= so they believe it" --- that was the Langley way. The author of a NACA document --- a technical report was the most comprehensive and exacting, a technical memorandum slightly less formal --- faced a firing squad of four or five people, chosen for their expertise in the topic. After a presentation of findings, the committee, which had read and analyzed the report in advance, let loose a barrage of questions and comments. The committee was brusque, thorough, and relentless in rooting out inaccuracies, inconsistencies, incomprehensible statements, and illogical conclusions obscured by technical gibberish. And that was before subjecting the report to the style, clarity, grammar, and presentation standards that were Pearl Young's legacy, before the addition of the charts and fancy graphics that reduced the data sheet to a coherent, visually persuasive point. A final report might be months, even years, in the making. ~ Margot Lee Shetterly,
758:Is six a.m. too early to watch The Bachelor and mock all the giggly, desperate women?"
"Go for it. Though I bet it'd work better as a drinking game," Laurel said. "One shot for the flirty arm touch. Chug if they strip and bum-rush the pool."
Anne hit play. "Like they'd get their hair wet."
Laurel stared at the screen, laughed at Anne's comments but felt another weird pang upset her insides. "Would you say this show makes something incredibly complex--you know, relationships--into something mind-numbingly vapid? Or does it make something actually rather simple into a big fucking circus?"
"Both. That's why I love it."
"I couldn't stand competing for a man like that," Laurel murmured. "I don't have the right...programming for it. Like to fight like that. Some people get an adrenaline rush and they're like foosh, give me somebody to beat down. I just, like curl up into a ball and want to hide."
"I'm somewhere in the middle," Anne said. "I'm like a ninja. I'll like, come out of my shadowy hiding space and beat you down, bitches. You won't even see me. ~ Cara McKenna,
759:He was attractive and he knew it, but he pretended he had no idea. Therefore he was both vain and disingenuous. Tall, or so he seemed to Jess, he looked Italian with his dark skin and dark eyes. Very old- again, from Jess's point of view- where anyone past thirty harked back to another era altogether. Despite his years, George had a powerful body, a broad chest, a face of light and shade, a glint of humor even in his frown. When he wasn't lobbing his sarcastic comments, he seemed scholarly and peaceful, like a Renaissance St. Jerome at work in his cave of books. All he needed was a skull on his desk and a lion at his sandaled feet. He wore T-shirts, jeans, rimless reading glasses, sometimes tweed jackets. He had the deep didactic voice of a man who had smoked for years and then suddenly quit and now hated smokers everywhere. He never watched television, and he never tired of telling people so. But the most pretentious thing about him was his long hair. With his chestnut locks of threaded gray, he was a fly caught in amber, the product and exemplar of a lost world. ~ Allegra Goodman,
760:In my experience, the books that tend to flop upon release are those where the author goes into a cave for a year to write it, then hands it off to the publisher for release. They hope for a hit that rarely comes. On the other hand, I have clients who blog extensively before publishing. They develop their book ideas based on the themes that they naturally gravitate toward but that also get the greatest response from readers. (One client sold a book proposal using a screenshot of Google queries to his site.) They test the ideas they’re writing about in the book on their blog and when they speak in front of groups. They ask readers what they’d like to see in the book. They judge topic ideas by how many comments a given post generates, by how many Facebook “shares” an article gets. They put potential title and cover ideas up online to test and receive feedback. They look to see what hot topics other influential bloggers are riding and find ways of addressing them in their book.* The latter achieves PMF; the former never does. One is growth hacking; the other, simply guessing. ~ Ryan Holiday,
761:Remember what the fashion big mouths were saying about Jessica Simpson? Looking at her magazine pictures, sucking their teeth, going, "Oh, look at her in her 'mom jeans.'" Know what? That is an unnecessarily cheap shot at her and kinda lousy to moms at the same time. Who the hell are they to say that? What gratification does it give them to be mean at someone's expense?
People made nasty comments like that about President Obama. They made an issue of his jeans when he threw out the first ball at the All-Star game in St. Louis. Why? Who was he bothering? Come on.
The tabloids, celebrity mags, and TV entertainment shows do fashion critiques all the time. But it's not about fashion, it's about trashin'. Their specialty is "Celebrity Cellulite!"--running unflattering pictures of stars at the beach and saying who should give up the bikini and go for the one-piece. And this is acceptable? This is a mark of journalism in a civil society, to take ambush pictures of people at the beach? And if the camera was turned around and pointed the other way, what would that look like? ~ Whoopi Goldberg,
762:Okay, let's start over." I reached across the table, my hand outstretched. "I'm Stella Allesandro and I zone all the way out on my morning walks. I blame *NSYNC."
Cal laughed, but he didn't release my hand. "I'm Cal Hartshorn and I approach women by mowing them down to see if they like being underneath me."
A shocked laugh burst from my lips and I felt heat rising to my cheeks but I couldn't focus on the obvious innuendo he offered when there was more curious business at hand.
"Hold it right there," I said, leaning closer to peer at him.
"You can hold it anywhere you want it," he murmured.
"I'm sure." I held up a finger as my shoulders shook with silent laughter. "You keep them coming, Cal Hartshorn."
"I keep them coming like you wouldn't believe, Stella Allesandro," he replied. "Like you would not believe."
Laughing, I said, "Stop being obscene for a minute."
He had the balls to pull an appalled face. As if I was the one with all the bawdy comments here. "Obscene? I'm not obscene at all."
"You hide behind all your shy-boy awkwards but you're filthy. ~ Kate Canterbary,
763:Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion. PROVERBS 11:22 Heavenly Father, I fear I haven’t been representing the dignity that You’ve given me. You have called me to be a woman of noble character who is respected. You have instructed me to present myself with beautiful modesty and a wise spirit. Lord, forgive me for trading in Your admirable qualities for worldly trends. My culture has glamorized provocative women with loose morals. I know You have higher standards for us because You cherish us more than we can understand. You’ve placed Your beauty inside of me, that I wouldn’t allow it to be slandered or trampled on. It breaks Your heart to see Your precious daughters throwing themselves at guys, accepting crude comments as compliments, and drawing inappropriate attention to their bodies. You created me for more than that, Lord. Remind me of my worth. Make my heart feel instantly sick the moment I present myself with less value than You’ve given me. You have crowned me as Your daughter and princess; You have inscribed Your royalty on my heart. ~ Stormie Omartian,
764:The Protest Polka is danced not just by lovers, but by parents and children and brothers and sisters, indeed by anyone with close emotional ties to another. Sometimes it is easier for us to see ourselves performing it with our siblings or our kids than with our spouse. Is it that the vulnerability is less obvious? I ask myself why my adolescent son, sighing and dismissing my comments about his being late, sends me over the edge into critical blaming, even when we have a loving bond between us. The answer is easy. Suddenly I hear a message that vibrates with attachment meanings. He rolls his eyes at me. His tone is contemptuous. I hear that my concerns or comments do not matter to him. I am irrelevant. So I turn up the music and I criticize him. He retreats and dismisses me again. We are off. The polka music plays on. But suddenly I recognize the music. So I step to the side and invite him to look at the dance. “Wait a minute. What is happening here? We are getting caught up in a silly fight and we are both getting hurt.” This is the first step in stopping the polka: recognize the music. ~ Sue Johnson,
765:Why me?” I ask him. He looks up at me, but only for a second. He goes quickly back to his icing. “Why not you?” “I’m not like them,” I point out. “Thank God for that,” he murmurs. “No, I mean I’m not at all like them.” “Who’s the them we’re talking about? Cheerleaders?” “Well…yeah.” I look down and am immediately mortified to find that I’ve completely cleaned my plate. “I dated the cheerleader because she was nice. Not because she was petite. Personally, I’d whole lot rather kiss a chick your size.” I drop my fork and it clatters loudly onto the plate. Did he really just talk about my height? Right in front of me? “I don’t have to wrench my neck to kiss you. Short petite chicks make big guys like me feel like Neanderthals. I always worry I’m going to break them.” Whereas with me, he’d have to worry about the opposite. “I want a girl I can hold on to. With a rear end, and tits.” His face goes rosy again. “But that’s just me.” I’m trying to process his comments. “Rear end and tits,” I whisper to myself. “Rear end and tits,” he says again. “Why are you so surprised?” “It’s just…not…what I’m used to.” “What ~ Tammy Falkner,
766:You run on along now. Don’t you have a bible study somewhere you should be at?”
Arguing with him was pointless. He would just start throwing out more snide comments until he had me so mad I couldn’t see straight. I pressed the gas and turned into the parking lot. Like I was going to be able to just leave and let him drive home drunk. He could infuriate me with a wink of his eye, and I worked real hard at being nice to everyone. I scanned the parked cars for his old, black Chevy truck. Once I spotted it, I walked over to him and held out my hand.
“Either you can give me the keys to your truck or I can go digging for them. What’s it going to be, Beau? You want me searching your pockets?”
A crooked grin touched his face. “As a matter of fact, I think I might just enjoy you digging around in my pockets, Ash. Why don’t we go with option number two?”
Heat rose up my neck and left splotches of color on my cheeks. I didn’t need a mirror to know I was blushing like an idiot. Beau never made suggestive comments to me or even flirted with me. I happened to be the only reasonably attractive female at school he completely ignored. ~ Abbi Glines,
767:Piri Reis is not only remembered for his 1513 map but for another slightly later work, a manual of sailing directions known as the Bahriye, which also contains references to the book of Columbus. Reported above is Mcintosh's impression from comments made in the Bahriye that the 'book' Piri is speaking of might have been Ptolemy's Geography. Yet the Turkish scholar Svat Soucek points out that this is not the obvious deduction from the text of the Bahriye where it touches on 'the great story of the discovery of America':
'The country's name is Antilia, and it was discovered by a Genoese muneccim (astronomer-cum-astrologer) named Columbus ... The story goes all the way back to Alexander, who had roamed the whole earth and written a book about it. The book remained in Egypt until the Muslim conquest, when the Franks fled the country, taking the book with them. Little attention was paid to it until Columbus read it and realized the existence of Antilia to the west of the Atlantic. He convinced the king of Spain of the possibility of its discovery and colonization, which he then successfully carried out. ~ Graham Hancock,
768:You’ll see the day, ten years from now, when Adolf Hitler will occupy precisely the same position in Germany that Jesus Christ has now. —REINHARD HEYDRICH One sometimes hears that Hitler was a Christian. He was certainly not, but neither was he openly anti-Christian, as most of his top lieutenants were. What helped him aggrandize power, he approved of, and what prevented it, he did not. He was utterly pragmatic. In public he often made comments that made him sound pro-church or pro-Christian, but there can be no question that he said these things cynically, for political gain. In private, he possessed an unblemished record of statements against Christianity and Christians. Especially early in his career, Hitler wished to appear as a typical German, so he praised the churches as bastions of morality and traditional values. But he also felt that, in time, the churches would adapt to the National Socialist way of thinking. They would eventually be made into vessels for Nazi ideology, so it little served his purposes to destroy them. It would be easier to change what already existed and benefit from whatever cultural cachet they possessed. 166 ~ Eric Metaxas,
769:Interesting facts about Facebook: · More than 400 million active users · 50% of our active users log on to Facebook in any given day · More than 35 million users update their status each day · More than 60 million status updates posted each day · More than 3 billion photos uploaded to the site each month · More than 5 billion pieces of content (links, news stories, blog posts, notes, photo albums, etc.) shared each week · More than 3.5 million events created each month · More than 3 million active Pages on Facebook · More than 1.5 million local businesses have active Pages on Facebook · More than 20 million people become fans of Interesting facts about Facebook users: · Average user has 130 friends on the site · Average user sends 8 friend requests per month · Average user spends more than 55 minutes per day on Facebook · Average user clicks the Like button on 9 pieces of content each month · Average user writes 25 comments on Facebook content each month · Average user becomes a fan of 4 Pages each month · Average user is invited to 3 events per month · Average user is a member of 13 groups Pages each day · Pages have created more than 5.3 billion fans ~ Anonymous,
770:Those unearthly eyes were so close, she could see the reflection of her own furious expression in their depths. “I’d rather watch you take a lover than die at my hands.”

She knew how much those words must’ve tortured him. Even now, the air was staining bloodred with anger. “And would you let that man live?” she whispered.

No response. That gave her hope even when hope seemed impossible. “Then we fight, Judd.” She dared to place her hand gently on his chest. He flinched but didn’t move away. “We fight until every avenue is closed and then we dig under the roadblocks. Because I am not walking away from us.” Strong words, but she was shaking. He could destroy her with a few careless comments.

“You’re the strongest, most determined woman I know.” He played his fingers along the strands of her hair. “You’d make mincemeat out of a lesser man. It’s a good thing you belong to me.”

Relief almost collapsed her knees. “Not funny.”

“I’m serious.” Something very male moved over his face. “If you say yes now, I won’t let you go if you decide I’m not what you want later on down the road. You say yes, you say yes forever. Be sure. ~ Nalini Singh,
771:4. Give recognition and show appreciation. “The deepest principle of human nature is the craving to be appreciated,” wrote William James, the father of American psychology. It is impossible to be motivated and do great work if you don’t feel that somebody cares and appreciates what you do. Studies have shown that for people to be happy and productive at work, they need to experience positive interactions (appreciation, praise) vs. negative (reprimands, criticism) with their manager in a ratio of at least 3:1. (Watch out: For a marriage to work, you actually need a 5:1 ratio!!) So make it a simple habit to thank people each and every day — and that includes using the word generously in emails to your team. The way people want to receive recognition varies greatly: public vs. private, material vs. immaterial, from peers vs. from superiors, etc. Great managers test different approaches and observe reactions until they find the triggers that work best with each of their people. At MOM’s Organic Market, managers will sometimes publicly recognize employees who have performed well, but CEO Scott Nash has often found that one-on-one comments are most effective. ~ Verne Harnish,
772:The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress.”
Pandora turned to Devon. “Lord Trenear, what do you think?”
“This is one of those times when it’s best for a man to avoid thinking altogether,” he said hastily.
“Bother,” Cassandra said. Reaching for a white glass pot with a gilded top, she gave it to Kathleen. “We found this for you. It’s lily pomatum, for your wrinkles.”
“I don’t have wrinkles,” Kathleen said with dawning indignation.
“Not yet,” Pandora allowed. “But someday you will.”
Devon grinned as the twins snatched their empty baskets and scurried away to continue shopping.
“When my wrinkles appear,” Kathleen said ruefully, “those two will have caused most of them.”
“That day will be a long time coming.” Looking down at her, Devon cupped her face with his hands. “But when it does, you’ll be even more beautiful.”
The skin beneath his gentle touch flamed with a blush more brilliant than potted rouge could have imparted. Desperately she tried to make herself pull away from him, but his touch had paralyzed her. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
773:People are taking the piss out of you everyday. They butt into your life, take a cheap shot at you and then disappear. They leer at you from tall buildings and make you feel small. They make flippant comments from buses that imply you’re not sexy enough and that all the fun is happening somewhere else. They are on TV making your girlfriend feel inadequate. They have access to the most sophisticated technology the world has ever seen and they bully you with it. They are The Advertisers and they are laughing at you. You, however, are forbidden to touch them. Trademarks, intellectual property rights and copyright law mean advertisers can say what they like wherever they like with total impunity. Fuck that. Any advert in a public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It’s yours to take, re-arrange and re-use. You can do whatever you like with it. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head. You owe the companies nothing. Less than nothing, you especially don’t owe them any courtesy. They owe you. They have re-arranged the world to put themselves in front of you. They never asked for your permission, don’t even start asking for theirs. ~ Banksy,
774:Meet people properly: It all starts with the introduction. Exchange contact information. Make sure you can pronounce everyone’s names. Find things you have in common: You can almost always find something in common with another person, and from there, it’s much easier to address issues where you have differences. Sports cut across boundaries of race and wealth. And if nothing else, we all have the weather in common. Try for optimal meeting conditions: Make sure no one is hungry, cold or tired. Meet over a meal if you can; food softens a meeting. That’s why they “do lunch” in Hollywood. Let everyone talk: Don’t finish someone’s sentences. And talking louder or faster doesn’t make your idea any better. Check egos at the door: When you discuss ideas, label them and write them down. The label should be descriptive of the idea, not the originator: “the bridge story” not “Jane’s story.” Praise each other: Find something nice to say, even if it’s a stretch. The worst ideas can have silver linings if you look hard enough. Phrase alternatives as questions: Instead of “I think we should do A, not B,” try “What if we did A, instead of B?” That allows people to offer comments rather than defend one choice. At ~ Randy Pausch,
775:Shaking his head, Lord St. Vincent watched the retriever scamper across the lawn. "I owe you a new hat," he told Pandora. "That one will return in shreds."
"I don't mind. Ajax is still a pup."
"The dog is inbred," he said flatly. "He doesn't retrieve or obey commands, he tries to dig holes in carpets, and as far as I can tell, he's incapable of walking in a straight line."
Pandora grinned. "I rarely walk in a straight line," she confessed. "I'm too distractible to keep to one direction- I keep veering this way and that, to make certain I'm not missing something. So whenever I set out for a new place, I always end up back where I started."
Lord St. Vincent turned to face her fully, the beautiful cool blue of his eyes intent and searching. "Where do you want to go?"
The question caused Pandora to blink in surprise. She'd just been making a few silly comments, the kind no one ever paid attention to. "It doesn't matter," she said prosaically. "Since I walk in circles, I'll never reach my destination."
His gaze lingered over her face. "You could make the circles bigger."
The remark was perceptive and playful at the same time, as if he somehow understood how her mind worked. Or perhaps he was mocking her. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
776:She does not even look kind of cute!" Claire stated, her face a mask of mock horror.
They all started at her, not sure what to say.
And then once again, of course, it was Chelsea who broke the stunned silence. "I swear, Claire-bear, I am going to call your mom and tell her you need to start riding the short bus. You really need to start practicing your bitchy comments. What are you gonna do when we're not here to get your back?"
Claire rolled her eyes, too oblivious to be insulted, which was why she was the perfect friend for Chelsea, who was too insulting to be oblivious. "Geez, Chels, I don't even ride the bus."
Jules couldn't help herself; despite her best efforts to hold on to her detached cool, she started laughing. And pretty soon they were all laughing, even Claire, who still didn't realize what they were laughing at.
"You guys are so mean!" Violet charged accusingly. "Can't you just have fun and stop picking everyone apart?"
Chelsea looked disgusted. "You've gone soft, haven't you? Jay has made you soft!"
Violet rolled her eyes, smiling despite her best efforts. "Whatever. Everyone's soft compared to you."
"Ouch!" Chelsea pretended to be wounded. But again, she just couldn't pull it off. ~ Kimberly Derting,
777:The Rules of Misquotation: Axiom 1. Any quotation that can be altered will be.   Corollary 1A: Vivid words hook misquotes in the mind. ~   Corollary 1B: Numbers are hard to keep straight. ~   Corollary 1C: Small changes can have a big impact (or: what a difference an a makes). ~   Corollary 1D: If noted figures don't say what needs to be said, we'll say it for them. ~   Corollary 1E: Journalists are a less than dependable source of accurate quotes.   Corollary 1F: Famous dead people make excellent commentators on current events.   Axiom 2. Famous quotes need famous mouths. ~   Corollary 2A: Well-known messengers get credit for clever comments they report from less celebrated mouths. ~   Corollary 2B: Particularly quotable figures receive more than their share of quotable quotes. ~   Corollary 2C: Comments made about someone might as well have been said by that person. ~   Corollary 2D: Who you think said something may depend on where you live. ~   Corollary 2E: Vintage quotes are considered to be in the public domain.   Corollary 2F: In a pinch, any orphan quote can be called a Chinese proverb. ~ Ralph Keyes, "Nice Guys Finish Seventh": False Phrases, Spurious Sayings, and Familiar Misquotations (1992) ISBN 0062700200.,
778:What is this?" Kathleen asked, picking up the bottle and viewing it suspiciously.
"It's a beautifier," Pandora said.
"Bloom of Rose," Cassandra chimed in.
Kathleen gasped as she realized what it was. "It's rouge. She had never even held a container of rouge before. Setting it on the counter, she said firmly, "No."
"But Kathleen-"
"No to rouge," she said, "now and for all time."
"We need to enhance our complexions," Pandora protested.
"It won't do any harm," Cassandra chimed in. "The bottle says that Bloom of Rose is 'delicate and inoffensive'... It's written right there, you see?"
"The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress."
Pandora turned to Devon. "Lord Trenear, what do you think?"
"This is one of those times when it's best for a man to avoid thinking altogether," he said hastily.
"Bother," Cassandra said. Reaching for a white glass pot with a gilded top, she gave it to Kathleen. "We found this for you. It's lily pomatum, for your wrinkles."
"I don't have wrinkles," Kathleen said with dawning indignation.
"Not yet," Pandora allowed. "But someday you will. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
779:Although every true believer knows it is a serious sin to be ashamed of his Savior and Lord, he also knows the difficulty of avoiding that sin. When we have opportunity to speak for Christ, we often do not. We know the gospel is unattractive, intimidating, and repulsive to the natural, unsaved person and to the ungodly spiritual system that now dominates the world. The gospel exposes man’s sin, wickedness, depravity, and lostness, and it declares pride to be despicable and works righteousness to be worthless in God’s sight. To the sinful heart of unbelievers, the gospel does not appear to be good news but bad (cf. my comments in chapter 1), and when they first hear it they often react with disdain against the one presenting it or throw out arguments and theories against it. For that reason, fear of men and of not being able to handle their arguments is doubtlessly the single greatest snare in witnessing. It is said that if a circle of white chalk is traced on the floor around a goose that it will not leave the circle for fear of crossing the white mark. In a similar way, the chalk marks of criticism, ridicule, tradition, and rejection prevent many believers from leaving the security of Christian fellowship to witness to the unsaved. ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
780:Quitempredictably, the enormous economic rewards created both by the drug-war forfeiture and Byrne-grant laws has created an environment in which a very old one line exists between the lawful andnunlawful taking of other people's money and property-- line so thin that some officers disregard the formalities of search warrants, probable cause, and reasonable suspicion altogether. In United States v. Reese, for example, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals described a drug task force completely corrupted by its dependence on federal drug money. Operating as a separate unit within the Oakland Housing Authority, the task force behaved, in the words of one officer, "more or less like a wolf pack," driving up jnmpolice vehicles and taking "anything and everything we saw on the street corner." The officers were under tremendous pressure from their commander to keep their arrest numbers up, and all of the officers were awaremthat their jobs depended on the renewal of a federal grant. The task force commander emphasized that they would need statistics to show that the grant money was well spent and sent the task force out to begin a shift with comments like, "Let's go out and kick ass," and "Everybody goes to jail for every thing, right? ~ Michelle Alexander,
781:Alexander Hamilton Junior High School
-- SEMESTER REPORT --

STUDENT: Joseph Margolis
TEACHER: Janet Hicks

ENGLISH: A, ARITHMETIC: A, SOCIAL STUDIES: A, SCIENCE: A, NEATNESS: A, PUNCTUALITY: A, PARTICIPATION: A, OBEDIENCE: D

Teacher's Comments:
Joseph remains a challenging student. While I appreciate his creativity, I am sure you will agree that a classroom is an inappropriate forum for a reckless imagination. There is not a shred of evidence to support his claim that Dolley Madison was a Lesbian, and even fewer grounds to explain why he even knows what the word means. Similarly, an analysis of the Constitutional Convention does not generate sufficient cause to initiate a two-hour classroom debate on what types of automobiles the Founding Fathers would have driven were they alive today. When asked on a subsequent examination, "What did Benjamin Franklin use to discover electricity?" eleven children responded "A Packard convertible". I trust you see my problem.
[...]
Janet Hicks

Parent's Comments:
As usual I am very proud of Joey's grades. I too was unaware that Dolley Madison was a Lesbian. I assumed they were all Protestants.
Thank you for writing.
Ida Margolis ~ Steve Kluger,
782:Any program about highlighting benevolence, protecting the innocent, or sacrificing time to help the underdog grew in popularity. Included in our list of reality viewing were shows about police or bounty hunters apprehending evil criminals. These too became some of the most-watched programs. To sum it all up, our entertainment is often centered on the good of humanity. Sales and Marketing 101 teaches us that a product must feel, look, sound, taste, or smell good in order to succeed in the marketplace. It must elevate the consumer’s senses or emotions to a better and happier state. We know that good items will sell. After all, who would want to purchase something bad? And only twisted people would desire to procure evil. We hear comments such as “he’s a good man” or “she’s a good woman,” and we normally accept this evaluation at face value. The vulnerable quickly let down their guard and embrace every statement or action from those proclaimed to be good as safe and trustworthy. But are these assessments always accurate? Could we ever fall into the delusional state of calling what’s right wrong or what’s wrong right? Doesn’t everybody know the difference? And we certainly could never fall into the deceived state of calling good evil or evil good. Correct? ~ John Bevere,
783:Early in my career, I formed a personal motto, one by which I continue to live: If offering a criticism, accompany it with one potential solution. In the case I described, the individual didn’t want to work together to find a solution. Unfortunately, I’ve never found an effective way to deal with adults who exhibit immaturity. The Bible offers a bit of interesting insight that I consider applicable: “Do not eat the bread of a selfish man, or desire his delicacies; for as he thinks within himself, so he is. He says to you, ‘Eat and drink!’ but his heart is not with you. You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten, and waste your compliments. Do not speak in the hearing of a fool, for he will despise the wisdom of your words” (Proverbs 23:6-9). The Bible also says, “If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men” (Romans 12:18). It saddens me to say, but in that individual’s case, peace meant limiting my interactions with him. To foster peace, I stopped saying hello in the mornings. Not out of spite, but because friendly conversation led to comfort, and comfort, I noticed, opened the door for negative comments. Rarely do I take such an extreme measure, but sometimes distance is helpful. His visits ended. My peace and fervor began to reemerge. ~ John Herrick,
784:Now, analysis, the breaking of the wholes into parts, is fundamental to science, but for judging works of art, the procedure is more uncertain: what are the natural parts of a story, a sonnet, a painting? The maker's aim is to project his vision by creating not a machine made up of parts but the impression of seamless unity that belongs to a living thing. Looking at an early example of systematic criticism by analysis -- say, Dante's comments on his sonnet sequence La Vita Nuova -- one sees that the best he can do is to tell again in prose what the first two lines mean, then the next three, and so on in little chunks through the entire work. We may understand somewhat better his intention here and there, but at the same time we vaguely feel that the exercise was superfluous and inappropriate. Reflection tells us why: those notations taken together do not add up to the meaning of the several poems. In three words: analysis is reductive. Since its patent success in natural sciences, analysis has become a universal mode of dealing not merely with what is unknown or difficult, but also with all interesting things as if they were difficult. Accordingly, analysis is a theme. Depending on the particulars of its effect, it can also be designated reductivism. ~ Jacques Barzun,
785:Today, take a moment to celebrate you. Your beauty. Your style. Your sense of inner mischief. The way you glow in the sunlight. Your strut in those badass boots. The way the dress hugs your soft curves. The gleam in your eye. The curve of your irrepressible smile. The line of your collarbone. The way you know, underneath all the doubts and insecurities and demons that you are, in fact, magic. And what’s more? You always have been. You don’t need someone else to say so. This isn’t for likes or comments. You don’t need to book a photoshoot for this celebration. This is between you and you. For you to take the time to see yourself. To smile at your own beauty. Find a spot where you feel the energy. Where the sun hits just so. Where the colors or textures make you feel more alive, more you. Find somewhere to prop your phone and set the timer on your camera. You don’t need special equipment. And then just see what happens. Be open and curious about what wants to be seen. If someone sees you and stares or laughs or has the nerve to judge, you just ground down and rise up even more. They are just missing out on how good it can feel to see and know your own magic and beauty. And yes. If you want, and it feels good, you should share it. Because we want to see you and celebrate you too. ~ Jeanette LeBlanc,
786:When their brother-in-law turned toward them at the sound,Lisa breathed with horror, "But you're dead." Her head swiveled to Christiana. "Wasn't he dead, Chrissy? We packed ice around him and everything."
"The ice must have revived his cold dead heart," Suzette said, anger helping her recover quickly from her shock. Glaring at the man, she added a dry but heartfelt, "More's the pity."
If Dicky looked surprised by her comments, Christiana looked absolutely horrified.
"Suzette!" she gasped, shuffling a little closer as if to phsyically silence her if Suzette tried to make another such comment. "Perhaps we should go out for some air. Lisa looks ready to faint and you, Suzie, obviously need some time to cool yourself. Perhaps so much dancing has overheated you."
Suzette was about to snort at the suggestion that dancing had brought about her bitter words when her arm was suddenly taken in a firm grip and the words "Allow me" rang in her ears.
Glancing around with a start, she frowned at the man who had suddenly appeared out of seemingly thin air and stepped between her and Lisa, taking both of them in hand like recalcitrant children. He was already turning them firmly away from Christiana and Dicky as he added, "I shall see the ladies outside so the two of you might talk. ~ Lynsay Sands,
787:Lovelock comments in response . . . We [as scientists] had become so used to thinking in terms of cause and effect that we no longer seemed to realize that the whole could be more than the sum of its parts. . . . The Earth self regulates its climate and chemistry so as to keep itself habitable and it is this that is the sticking point for many, if not most, scientists. Such a conclusion could never have come from reductionist thinking, and that is why arguments with biologists and others over Gaia have been so acrimonious for so long. The fact that reductionist science cannot offer a rational explanation for quantum phenomena like entanglement, nor of whole systems phenomena such as emergence, does not mean that these phenomena do not exist. Their existence confirms the limits of the Cartesian view of the universe. . . . Eminent representatives of the Earth and Life sciences secure in their disciplines ignored the fact that organisms massively alter their environment as well as adapting to it, and they did not see the evolution of the organisms and the evolution of their environment as a single coupled process. . . . I know it is unrealistic to expect them to welcome a theory like Gaia, which not only asks them to join together as if married but also to take a vow to believe in the phenomena of emergence. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
788:The Pseudocode Programming Process Have you checked that the prerequisites have been satisfied? Have you defined the problem that the class will solve? Is the high-level design clear enough to give the class and each of its routines a good name? Have you thought about how to test the class and each of its routines? Have you thought about efficiency mainly in terms of stable interfaces and readable implementations or mainly in terms of meeting resource and speed budgets? Have you checked the standard libraries and other code libraries for applicable routines or components? Have you checked reference books for helpful algorithms? Have you designed each routine by using detailed pseudocode? Have you mentally checked the pseudocode? Is it easy to understand? Have you paid attention to warnings that would send you back to design (use of global data, operations that seem better suited to another class or another routine, and so on)? Did you translate the pseudocode to code accurately? Did you apply the PPP recursively, breaking routines into smaller routines when needed? Did you document assumptions as you made them? Did you remove comments that turned out to be redundant? Have you chosen the best of several iterations, rather than merely stopping after your first iteration? Do you thoroughly understand your code? Is it easy to understand? ~ Steve McConnell,
789:The virus is causing something akin to panic throughout corporate America, which has become used to the typos, misspellings, missing words and mangled syntax so acceptable in cyberspace. The CEO of LoseItAll.com, an Internet startup, said the virus had rendered him helpless. “Each time I tried to send one particular e-mail this morning, I got back this error message: ‘Your dependent clause preceding your independent clause must be set off by commas, but one must not precede the conjunction.’ I threw my laptop across the room.”  . . . If Strunkenwhite makes e-mailing impossible, it could mean the end to a communication revolution once hailed as a significant timesaver. A study of 1,254 office workers in Leonia, N.J., found that e-mail increased employees’ productivity by 1.8 hours a day because they took less time to formulate their thoughts. (The same study also found that they lost 2.2 hours of productivity because they were e-mailing so many jokes to their spouses, parents and stockbrokers.)  . . . “This is one of the most complex and invasive examples of computer code we have ever encountered. We just can’t imagine what kind of devious mind would want to tamper with e-mails to create this burden on communications,” said an FBI agent who insisted on speaking via the telephone out of concern that trying to e-mail his comments could leave him tied up for hours. ~ Lynne Truss,
790:For Allan’s father, the whole thing had acquired a personal dimension since Lenin had forbidden all private ownership of land the very day after Allan’s father had purchased 130 square feet on which to grow Swedish strawberries. “The land didn’t cost more than four rubles, but they won’t get away with nationalizing my strawberry patch,” wrote Allan’s father in his very last letter home, concluding: “Now it’s war!” And war it certainly was—all the time. In just about every part of the world, and it had been going on for several years. It had broken out about a year before little Allan had got his errand-boy job at Nitroglycerin Ltd. While Allan loaded his boxes with dynamite, he listened to the workers’ comments on events. He wondered how they could know so much, but above all he marveled at how much misery grown men could cause. Austria declared war on Serbia. Germany declared war on Russia. Then, Germany conquered Luxembourg a day before declaring war on France and invading Belgium. Great Britain then declared war on Germany, Austria declared war on Russia, and Serbia declared war on Germany. And on it went. The Japanese joined in, as did the Americans. In the months after the Czar abdicated, the British took Baghdad for some reason, and then Jerusalem. The Greeks and Bulgarians started to fight each other while the Arabs continued their revolt against the Ottomans…. So “Now it’s war!” was right. ~ Jonas Jonasson,
791:Many college courses in the humanities focus on discussion over lecture. Students read course material ahead of time and have a discussion in class. Harvard Business School took this to the extreme by pioneering case-based learning more than a hundred years ago, and many business schools have since followed suit. There are no lectures there, not even in subjects like accounting or finance. Students read a ten-to twenty-page description of a particular company’s or person’s circumstance—called a “case”—on their own time and then participate in a discussion/debate in class (where attendance is mandatory). Professors are there to facilitate the discussion, not to dominate it. I can tell you from personal experience that despite there being eighty students in the room, you cannot zone out. Your brain is actively processing what your peers are saying while you try to come to your own conclusions so that you can contribute during the entire eighty-minute session. The time goes by faster than you want it to; students are more engaged than in any traditional classroom I’ve ever been a part of. Most importantly, the ideas that you and your peers collectively generate stick. To this day, comments and ways of thinking about a problem that my peers shared with me (or that I shared during class) nearly ten years ago come back to me as I try to help manage the growth and opportunities surrounding the Khan Academy. ~ Salman Khan,
792:Let’s play a game,” he said, easing out of the embrace so only one arm hung loosely around my shoulders. “If you win, I’ll give you a hundred bucks. If I win, we go back to your place and you lose the shirt and bra. Full second base action, but nothing more.”
“Why would I agree to that?”
“Duh, so you could win a hundred bucks. That’s like a week of tips from a twenty minute game.”
Lowering my head, I thought about what he was offering. While I wouldn’t mind getting closer to Cooper, I wasn’t ready for such intimacy.
“Why do you assume you’ll lose?” he asked, fixing the balls and setting them back in the middle of the table. “I’m good, but I’m not pool shark good. A hundred bucks is easy money and I’ll just have to find another way under your shirt.” Cooper inhaled and studied me as if thinking hard. “I can imagine a few ways to get that shirt off, but we’ll leave them for later.”
“Okay. I trust if you win you won’t do more than second base. My pants remain on and you’ll respect that. I trust you.”
“If you say how you trust me a few more times, it’ll sound like you really mean it.”
Rolling my eyes, I took the stick. “Can I start?”
“Sure, baby. I’ll just sit back here and watch you bend over.”
“Making pervy comments won’t distract my concentration. I’m accustomed to freaks cheating.”
“Whatever you say, but I’m mostly interested in the view. A hundred bucks is shit to me. ~ Bijou Hunter,
793:Going Public Per my recent comments, I am increasingly concerned about SpaceX going public before the Mars transport system is in place. Creating the technology needed to establish life on Mars is and always has been the fundamental goal of SpaceX. If being a public company diminishes that likelihood, then we should not do so until Mars is secure. This is something that I am open to reconsidering, but, given my experiences with Tesla and SolarCity, I am hesitant to foist being public on SpaceX, especially given the long term nature of our mission. Some at SpaceX who have not been through a public company experience may think that being public is desirable. This is not so. Public company stocks, particularly if big step changes in technology are involved, go through extreme volatility, both for reasons of internal execution and for reasons that have nothing to do with anything except the economy. This causes people to be distracted by the manic-depressive nature of the stock instead of creating great products. For those who are under the impression that they are so clever that they can outsmart public market investors and would sell SpaceX stock at the “right time,” let me relieve you of any such notion. If you really are better than most hedge fund managers, then there is no need to worry about the value of your SpaceX stock, as you can just invest in other public company stocks and make billions of dollars in the market. ~ Anonymous,
794:I'm sorry!" I blurted out. "I told you, I suck at this. It's like any time I try to do a spell, it goes all big and scary and explodey,and-"
Dad rubbed his forehead. "No,Sophie, it's all right. That's what I'd hoped you would do."
"You hoped I'd commit mirrorcide?"
He laughed, but it sounded a little breathless. "No,I'd hoped to see just how powerful you really are." His eyes were bright, and there was something that might have been pride in them. "You exceeded my expectations."
"Well,yay," I said. "So glad my skill at blowing crap up impresses you, Dad."
"Your sarcasm is-"
"I know,I know, 'an unattractive quality in a young lady.'"
But Dad grinned and suddenly looked much younger and less like a guy who ironed his ties. "Actually, I was going to say it's something you must've gotten from me. Grace always hated sarcastic comments."
"Oh,I know," I replied without thinking. "I spent most of the seventh grade grounded because of it."
He snorted. "She once put me out by the side of the road in Scotland because I made a completely harmless joke about her map-reaking skills."
"Really?"
"Mm-hmm.Had to walk nearly five bloody kilometers before she stopped to let me back in."
"Dude.Mom is hard-core."
For a moment we smiled at each other. Then Dad cleared his throat and looked away. "Anyway,your powers are definitely impressive, but what you lack is control."
"Yeah, I kind of picked up on that. ~ Rachel Hawkins,
795:Shaking my head, I grudgingly smiled. “Will the pizza be here soon?”
“Yes,” he murmured, suddenly next to me. “You smell good.”
Before I could speak, his lips were on mine for a brief touch. I froze for the seconds our lips met and remained a little frozen when he pulled away. As he leaned back, his lips curved into a gentle grin. “Those lips of yours are fucking gorgeous.”
Covering my mouth, I sighed. All of my life, I heard about my fat lips. As a kid, people would tease me about how my lips were big enough to eat my whole head. My grandma especially liked that one. When I got older, the comments were always sexual. I hated when people talked about my lips.
“You don’t like them,” he said as his fingers drifted along my calf. “Why?”
“I like them fine.”
“Do guys want to do something with those lips?”
Resting my head back on the couch, I sighed. “I’m tired and you’re making me feel dirty.”
Cooper’s hand stopped caressing my leg. When I looked at him, he stared back with an edgy expression. “You take things too personally,” he said, holding my gaze.
“When guys talk about using my mouth for stuff as if it’s all I’m good for, why wouldn’t I take that personally?”
“Not all you’re good for, but you have sexy lips. Like when I threw the bottle, you did this thing with your lips and made a perfect little ‘O’ shape. It was frigging hot and I almost forgot I wanted to beat the shit out of those guys. ~ Bijou Hunter,
796:The summer stretch had come into the evenings: it was gone seven, but the sky was a soft clear blue and the light flooding through the open windows was pale gold. All around us the Place was humming like a beehive, shimmering with a hundred different stories unfurling. Next door Mad Johnny Malone was singing to himself, in a cheerful cracked baritone: “Where the Strawberry Beds sweep down to the Liffey, you’ll kiss away the worries from my brow . . .” Downstairs Mandy shrieked delightedly, there was a tumble of thumping noises and then an explosion of laughter; farther down, in the basement, someone yelled in pain and Shay and his mates sent up a savage cheer. In the street, two of Sallie Hearne’s young fellas were teaching themselves to ride a robbed bike and giving each other hassle—“No, you golf ball, you’ve to go fast or you’ll fall off, who cares if you hit things?”—and someone was whistling on his way home from work, putting in all the fancy, happy little trills. The smell of fish and chips came in at the windows, along with smart-arse comments from a blackbird on a rooftop and the voices of women swapping the day’s gossip while they brought in their washing from the back gardens. I knew every voice and every door-slam; I even knew the determined rhythm of Mary Halley scrubbing her front steps. If I had listened hard I could have picked out every single person woven into that summer-evening air, and told you every story. Rosie ~ Tana French,
797:Andrew Murray comments boldly, but I think rightly, on Christ’s pledge: “Ask and you shall receive; everyone that asks, receives.” This is the fixed eternal law of the kingdom: if you ask and receive not, it must be because there is something amiss or wanting in the prayer. Hold on; let the Word and Spirit teach you to pray aright, but do not let go the confidence He seeks to waken: Everyone who asks receives. . . . Let every learner in the school of Christ therefore take the Master’s word in all simplicity. . . . Let us beware of weakening the Word with our human wisdom.[18] Because God answers prayer, when we “ask and receive not” we must consider the possibility that there is “something amiss or wanting” in our prayer. Perhaps God has indeed answered, but not in an obvious way. And possibly our prayers show nothing amiss, but we don’t yet see the answer only because God intends for us to persevere in praying about the matter awhile longer. Still, we must learn to examine our prayers. Are we asking for things outside the will of God or that would not glorify Him? Are we praying with selfish motives? Are we failing to deal with the kind of blatant sin that causes God to put all our prayers on hold? Despite what we see in response to our prayers, however, let’s not become so accustomed to our shortcomings in prayer and to the perception of asking without receiving that our faith in the force of Jesus’ promise is diminished. Prayer is answered. ~ Donald S Whitney,
798:Outer influences and distractions Consider the power of external influences to condition your life experience. Spend a day watching how what you encounter impacts your attitude and spirit. Pay attention to what is usually mere background noise. Probe all sights, sounds, and touches as life swirls about. Listen to the radio carefully. Study the comments on talk shows. Listen to popular music lyrics and rhythms. Pay attention to words and worldview, tones and timbre. What and how do you feel as a result? Watch people at a shopping mall. How many appear trim and in vibrant health? How many look happy? What are people wearing and how are they groomed? What does their appearance suggest about your community’s values? Does the appearance of others affect how you feel? Chat with coworkers. What comes up about the economy, government, and company management? Suggest changes in attitudes and actions for more happiness or productivity. What kind of responses do they give you? Look at Internet discussions and news. What is the tone and logic of the posts? Does the commenters’ passion reflect their intellectual depth and degree of knowledge? How many stories are negative and how many are positive? Could any of the negative stories be written with a positive spin and still remain true? How do you feel about what you observe? Is it possible that even if you had not been paying close attention, those experiences out on the margin of awareness might have affected your mood or attitude? ~ Stephen K Hayes,
799:Abelman’s Dry Goods
Kansas City, Missouri
U.S.A. Mr. I. Abelman, Mongoloid, Esq.:
We have received via post your absurd comments about our trousers, the comments revealing, as they did, your total lack of contact with reality. Were you more aware, you would know or realize by now that the offending trousers were dispatched to you with our full knowledge that they were inadequate so far as length was concerned.
“Why? Why?” You are, in your incomprehensible babble, unable to assimilate stimulating concepts of commerce into your retarded and blighted worldview.
The trousers were sent to you (1) as a means of testing your initiative (A clever, wide-awake business concern should be able to make three-quarter-length trousers a byword of masculine fashion. Your advertising and merchandising programs are obviously faulty.) and (2) as a means of testing your ability to meet the standards requisite in a distributor of our quality product. (Our loyal and dependable outlets can vend any trouser bearing the Levy label no matter how abominable their design and construction. You are apparently a faithless people.)
We do not wish to be bothered in the future by such tedious complaints. Please confine your correspondence to orders only. We are a busy and dynamic organization whose mission needless effrontery and harassment can only hinder. If you molest us again, sir, you may feel the sting of the lash across your pitiful shoulders.
Yours in anger,
Gus Levy, Pres. ~ John Kennedy Toole,
800:have been passing overheard comments up through thin-walled buildings. The speech was made at a closed Congress session but Alexander is pleased that their leader’s forthright, shocking denouncement of his predecessor Stalin is becoming known to the people outside. The sense of openness, of freedom that has made some of them light-headed at work over the past weeks will start to infect others too. How can that be bad? As if he has been listening to his friend’s thoughts, Misha turns to him. “And what do you think about Comrade Khrushchev’s brave speech, my friend? That the “cult of the individual” mustn’t happen again?” He pauses and takes a drag on his cigarette. “That old man Stalin was a cantankerous, bloody-minded butcher all along?” Misha smiles thinly, and exhales a long stream of smoke upwards. Alexander does not smoke. He used to, as a teenager, but as a young man, the residual taste of tar, the insidious smell of ash in his clothes, bothers him. “I think it’s about time,” Alexander replies. “People will see that things are different now. Really different.” Misha slaps him on the back. “Such an idealist, Sasha.” He smiles, but the smile is forced, and when he speaks next, his voice has lowered so that only Alexander can hear him. “You do remember that our beloved leader Nikita Sergeyevitch was around during all that terror. Doing his part?” The soft tones are a precaution, one that may or may not be necessary here, but Misha, like all of them, cannot get used to any other ~ Shamim Sarif,
801:In this way, Henry learned several things. That once Amer- icans were out of the cold and in their trucks, they did not like to get back out into the cold, even if it meant making the inside of their trucks as cold as the outside; that American weathermen liked to refer to snow as “the white stuff”; that American sports talk radio announcers liked to say about something, “There’s no doubt about it,” before then expressing their many doubts about it; that American political commentators liked to preface their comments by saying, “No offense,” before then saying some- thing offensive (the political commentator on the radio had said to whomever he was talking to, “No offense, but you have to be the stupidest human being on the planet”); that Americans were very impatient people with very short attention spans; that Amer- icans believed as long as they were inside their trucks they were invisible, and that as long as they smoked cigarettes inside their
trucks they would not then smell like cigarettes once they exited their trucks, and that in general Americans thought their trucks were magic; that while Europeans tended to think of Americans as people who liked to drive incredibly long distances in their pickup trucks, in fact Americans liked to drive incredibly short distances in their pickup trucks as well. These were the lessons Henry learned about Americans during his first minute in Ellen’s truck, and not once was he forced to reconsider them during all his days in Broomeville. ~ Brock Clarke,
802:Veramente particolare! You know what this word means?” She looks straight at me, and I feel very large and under-made-up by comparison with her Italian chic. “‘Particolare’? It means strange, or odd. You say this word when you don’t like something but you don’t want to be rude.”
“Well, that’s not something you ever have a problem with,” Kendra snaps back, and even through my upset at Elisa’s meanness, I admire Kendra’s quick wits.
Catia clicks her tongue crossly.
“It means ‘special,’ or ‘particular,’” she says to me reassuringly, but we all know that Elisa’s hit the nail on the head. “And Elisa, if you don’t like flowers, you can leave us, please.”
“Oh, stai zitta, Mamma,” Elisa says, shrugging exactly the same way her mother does. She walks across the room and out the french windows, where she collapses as if boneless onto the wicker chair, lifts her phone, and sips her espresso while dialing a number.
“It’s like ‘darling,’” Paige says suddenly. She looks at our bemused faces. “My grandmother’s from Georgia,” she explains, “and there, if you want to be mean to someone, you say her bag of her hair or something’s ‘darling.’ It’s the worst thing you can say. Like you’re paying a compliment, but it’s really the opposite. Or,” she adds, warming to this theme, “if you’re talking about someone and you say ‘Bless her heart!’ that means you think she’s a total moron.”
Catia decides, visibly, to ignore Paige’s comments and her daughter’s horrid behavior. ~ Lauren Henderson,
803:God does not mean for us to be passive. He means for us to fight the fight of faith--the fight for joy. And the central strategy is to preach the gospel to yourself. This is war. Satan is preaching for sure. If we remain passive, we surrender the field to him. So Lloyd-Jones gets specific and gets tough:
The main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself. You have to take yourself in hand, you have to address yourself, preach to yourself, question yourself... You must turn on yourself, upbraid yourself, condemn yourself, exhort yourself, and say to yourself: "Hope thou in God"--instead of muttering in this depressed, unhappy way, and then you must go on to remind yourself of God, who God is, and... what God has done, and what God has pledged himself to do. Then having done that, end on this great note: defy yourself, and defy other people, and defy the devil and the whole world, and say with this man: "I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance, who is also the help of my countenance and my God." [from Psalm 42:5]
Of course, the "self" is not the only one who talks to us in our head. So does the devil, and so do other people as we replay their comments in our memories. Therefore, when Lloyd-Jones tells us to preach to ourselves, he knows we must be addressing all these joy-killing messages. That's why he talks about defying self, Satan and other people. When we preach the gospel to ourselves, we are addressing every word of every enemy of every kind. ~ John Piper,
804:That’s one of the key challenges of remote work: keeping everyone’s outlook healthy and happy. That task is insurmountable if you’ve stacked your team with personalities who tend to let their inner asshole loose every now and again. Even for people with the best intentions, relations can go astray if the work gets stressful (and what work doesn’t occasionally?). The best ballast you can have is as many folks in your boat as possible with a thoroughly optimistic outlook. We’re talking about people who go out of their way to make sure everyone is having a good time. Remember: sentiments are infectious, whether good or bad. That’s also why it’s as important to continuously monitor the work atmosphere as to hire for it. It’s never a good idea to let poisonous people stick around to spoil it for everyone else, but in a remote-work setup it’s deadly. When you’re a manager and your employees are far flung, it’s impossible to see the dread in their eyes, and that can be fatal. With respect to drama, it therefore makes sense to follow the “No Broken Windows” theory of enforcement. What are we talking about? Well, in the same way that New York cracked down in the ’90s on even innocuous offenses like throwing rocks through windows or jumping the turnstile, a manager of remote workers needs to make an example of even the small stuff—things like snippy comments or passive-aggressive responses. While this responsibility naturally falls to those in charge, it works even better if policed by everyone in the company. ~ Jason Fried,
805:Where people were once dazzled to be online, now their expectations had soared, and they did not bother to hide their contempt for those who sought to curtail their freedom on the Web. Nobody was more despised than a computer science professor in his fifties named Fang Binxing. Fang had played a central role in designing the architecture of censorship, and the state media wrote admiringly of him as the “father of the Great Firewall.” But when Fang opened his own social media account, a user exhorted others, “Quick, throw bricks at Fang Binxing!” Another chimed in, “Enemies of the people will eventually face trial.” Censors removed the insults as fast as possible, but they couldn’t keep up, and the lacerating comments poured in. People called Fang a “eunuch” and a “running dog.” Someone Photoshopped his head onto a voodoo doll with a pin in its forehead. In digital terms, Fang had stepped into the hands of a frenzied mob. Less than three hours after Web users spotted him, the Father of the Great Firewall shut down his account and recoiled from the digital world that he had helped create. A few months later, in May 2011, Fang was lecturing at Wuhan University when a student threw an egg at him, followed by a shoe, hitting the professor in the chest. Teachers tried to detain the shoe thrower, a science student from a nearby college, but other students shielded him and led him to safety. He was instantly famous online. People offered him cash and vacations in Hong Kong and Singapore. A female blogger offered to sleep with him. ~ Evan Osnos,
806:(Note: The following was written in 2003, before the full implication of US military commitment in Afghanistan and Iraq could be fully appreciated. The passage also predates US drone attacks against targets in Pakistan and Yemen - to say nothing of Israeli affairs since 2003. It is unknown if and how the author's comments would change if he were writing the same today.)

The value of Israel to the United States as a strategic asset has been much disputed. There have been some in the United States who view Israel as a major strategic ally in the region and the one sure bastion against both external and regional enemies. Others have argued that Israel, far from being a strategic asset, has been a strategic liability, by embittering U.S. relations with the Arab world and causing the failure of U.S. policies in the region.

But if one compares the record of American policy in the Middle East with that of other regions, one is struck not by its failure but by its success. There is, after all, no Vietnam in the Middle East, no Cuba or Nicaragua or El Salvador, not even an Angola. On the contrary, throughout the successive crises that have shaken the region, there has always been an imposing political, economic, and cultural American presence, usually in several countries - and this, until the Gulf War of 1991, without the need for any significant military intervention. And even then, their presence was needed to rescue the victims of an inter-Arab aggression, unrelated to either Israelis or Palestinians. (99) ~ Bernard Lewis,
807:With sin gone, what need of a Savior? What need of theology? What need, finally, of a church? As Sweet comments, “With everything gone, there was little reason for people to stay.”65 Of course, it took a while for the churches to empty out; indeed, it is still happening. But the result should have surprised no one. The more shocking phenomenon is that evangelical churches in many cases are tracking a similar path. Consider how many “conservatives” enjoy Robert Shuller. That brand of “gospel” cannot last. Weigh how many presentations of the gospel have been “eased” by portraying Jesus as the One who fixes marriages, ensures the American dream, cancels loneliness, gives us power, and generally makes us happy. He is portrayed that way primarily because in our efforts to make Jesus appear relevant we have cast the human dilemma in merely contemporary categories, taking our cues from the perceived needs of our day. But if we follow Scripture, and understand that the fundamental needs of the race are irrefragably tied to the Fall, we will follow the Bible as it sets out God’s gracious solution to that fundamental need; and then the gospel we preach will be less skewed by the contemporary agenda. (What this means for our preaching, in practical terms, I will sketch in chapter 12.) To put the matter bluntly: If you begin with perceived needs, you will always distort the gospel. If you begin with the Bible’s definition of our need, relating perceived needs to that central grim reality, you are more likely to retain intact the gospel of God. ~ D A Carson,
808:Wish there were a “good news” channel? I usually have news stations humming in the background to keep up with worldwide events, but that constant white noise is sometimes like a cloud descending on the home. I defined for Piper the term “pet peeve” a few years ago. “Got it, Mom,” she responded. “My ‘pet peeve’ then is Fox News.” Yikes. I turned the volume down after that one slapped me upside the head. From crazy politicians pushing treaties with terrorist nations to thugs trashing neighborhood Walgreens in the name of “free speech,” bad news is exhausting. Some days it would be nice just to hear about Joe Six Pack and his hardworking family and his kid who got an “A” in Algebra today. Jesus tells of weeds thrown by the enemy into a field of good seed. Those weeds remind me of all the bad news we hear about in the media. As the time draws nearer to the return of Jesus, the Bible says the hearts of man will become increasingly hardened and they will refuse to repent of their crimes (Rev. 9:21). Sorcery, murder, immorality, and theft will rise, while at the same time God’s followers are called to stand firm in righteousness. Both the good seed and the bad seed will grow to fullness, until the final harvest of the “wheat.” At the great harvest, according to the Word, the Lord will take up the weeds to burn them, while gathering the wheat unto Him. SWEET FREEDOM IN Action Today, stand strong in the midst of weeds; mute the droning on and on of constant bad news; and anticipate that this era’s closing comments get very good for believers! ~ Sarah Palin,
809:But as people become anxious to be accepted by the group, their personal values and behaviors are exchanged for more negative ones. We can too easily become more intense, abusive, fundamentalist, fanatical—behaviors strange to our former selves, born out of our intense need to belong. This may be one explanation for why the Internet, which gave us the possibility of self-organizing, is devolving into a medium of hate and persecution, where trolls6 claiming a certain identity go to great efforts to harass, threaten, and destroy those different from themselves. The Internet, as a fundamental means for self-organizing, can’t help but breed this type of negative, separatist behavior. Tweets and texts spawn instant reactions; back and forth exchanges of only a few words quickly degenerate into comments that push us apart. Listening, reflecting, exchanging ideas with respect—gone. But this is far less problematic than the way the Internet has intensified the language of threat and hate. People no longer hide behind anonymity as they spew hatred, abominations, and lurid death threats at people they don’t even know and those that they do. Trolls, who use social media to issue obscene threats and also organize others to deluge a person with hateful tweets and emails, are so great a problem for people who come into public view that some go off Twitter, change their physical appearance, or move in order to protect their children.7 Reporters admit that they refuse to publish about certain issues because they fear the blowback from trolls. ~ Margaret J Wheatley,
810:Don’t tread on me I’m not quite clear about how to formulate this question. It has to do with the nature of US society as exemplified in comments like do your own thing, go it alone, don’t tread on me, the pioneer spirit— all that deeply individualistic stuff. What does that tell you about American society and culture? It tells you that the propaganda system is working full-time, because there is no such ideology in the US. Business certainly doesn’t believe it. All the way back to the origins of American society, business has insisted on a powerful, interventionist state to support its interests, and it still does. There’s nothing individualistic about corporations. They’re big conglomerate institutions, essentially totalitarian in character. Within them, you’re a cog in a big machine. There are few institutions in human society that have such strict hierarchy and top-down control as a business organization. It’s hardly don’t tread on me—you’re being tread on all the time. The point of the ideology is to prevent people who are outside the sectors of coordinated power from associating with each other and entering into decision-making in the political arena. The point is to leave the powerful sectors highly integrated and organized, while atomizing everyone else. That aside, there is another factor. There’s a streak of independence and individuality in American culture that I think is a very good thing. This don’t tread on me feeling is in many respects a healthy one—up to the point where it keeps you from working together with other people. ~ Noam Chomsky,
811:Some years ago a leading media personality had a high-level conference in Aspen, Colorado, on the topic of evil. (Shouldn’t that meeting have been held elsewhere? South Los Angeles or Soweto?) The outcome was that one or two participants out of a large group thought that there was such a thing as evil. But most were either noncommittal on the point or certain that evil did not exist at all. When you heard their comments it was clear that they simply could not conceptualize the evil to be seen flourishing abundantly around them in the twentieth century. One of the most glaring evidences of the bankruptcy of contemporary ethical thinking is that it cannot deal with evil. A recent proposal to found a field of “Evil Studies” within academia will not be enthusiastically received.7 We should be very sure that the ruined soul is not one who has missed a few more or less important theological points and will flunk a theological examination at the end of life. Hell is not an “oops!” or a slip. One does not miss heaven by a hair, but by constant effort to avoid and escape God. “Outer darkness” is for one who, everything said, wants it, whose entire orientation has slowly and firmly set itself against God and therefore against how the universe actually is. It is for those who are disastrously in error about their own life and their place before God and man.8 The ruined soul must be willing to hear of and recognize its own ruin before it can find how to enter a different path, the path of eternal life that naturally leads into spiritual formation in Christlikeness. ~ Dallas Willard,
812:Why Ubuntu: If I were you I'd just install Ubuntu into a dual-boot partition (the Ubuntu website has instructions for this) and learn as you go. Ubuntu is similar enough to Windows that you should be able to start using it right away without much difficulty.
   For running your Python scripts you'll want to drop into the shell (Ctrl + Alt + T If memory serves me right). As you become more comfortable with Ubuntu, you can start using the shell more and more. The shell is what gives you access to the power of Unix; every time you need to do something tedious and repetitive, try to find out how to do it through the shell.
   Eventually you will find yourself using the shell constantly. You'll wonder how you ever managed without it, and deride other operating systems for their lack of sensible programming tools. One day you'll realise that desktop window managers are a needless distraction. You start using xmonad or awesomewm. Eventually you realise that this, too, is a bastardisaton of the Unix vision and start using tmux exclusively. Then suddenly it hits you - every computer, every operating system, no matter how insignificant or user-friendly, has the Unix nature. All of them are merely streams from where you can ssh back into the ocean of Unix. Having achieved enlightenment you are equally content using an iPad as your main work computer, using powershell in Windows or SSH into a Digital Ocean droplet from your parent's computer. This is the Zen of Unix.
   ~ JohnyTex, https://www.reddit.com/r/learnprogramming/comments/38zytg/is_it_worth_my_time_to_learn_linux_while_learning,
813:That girl is me. Me and Peter, in the hot tub on the ski trip.
Oh my God.
I scream.
Margot comes racing in, wearing one of those Korean beauty masks on her face with slits for eyes, nose, and mouth. “What? What?
I try to cover the computer screen with my hand, but she pushes it out of the way, and then she lets out a scream too. Her mask falls off. “Oh my God! Is that you?”
Oh my God oh my God oh my God.
“Don’t let Kitty see!” I shout.
Kitty’s wide-eyed. “Lara Jean, I thought you were a goody-goody.”
“I am!” I scream.
Margot gulps. “That…that looks like…”
“I know. Don’t say it.”
“Don’t worry, Lara Jean,” Kitty soothes. “I’ve seen worse on regular TV, not even HBO.”
“Kitty, go to your room!” Margot yells. Kitty whimpers and clings closer to me.
I can’t believe what I am seeing. The caption reads Goody two shoes Lara Jean having full-on sex with Kavinsky in the hot tub. Do condoms work underwater? Guess we’ll find out soon enough. ;) The comments are a lot of wide-eyed emojis and lols. Someone named Veronica Chen wrote, What a slut! Is she Asian?? I don’t even know who Veronica Chen is!
“Who could have done this to me?” I wail, pressing my hands to my cheeks. “I can’t feel my face. Is my face still my face?”
“Who the hell is Anonybitch?” Margot demands.
“No one knows,” I say, and the roaring in my ears is so loud I can hardly hear my own voice. “People just re-gram her. Or him. Am I talking really loud right now?” I’m in shock. Now I can’t feel my hands or feet. I’m gonna faint. Is this happening? Is this my life? ~ Jenny Han,
814:And exactly how old are you, MacRieve?”
“Twelve hundred, give or take.”
She glanced back at him, as though gauging if he was jesting. When he raised his brows, she said, “Great Hekate, you’re a relic. Don’t you have a museum exhibit to be in somewhere?”
He ignored her comments. “Another mystery—I dinna find a razor in your bag, but your legs and under your arms are smooth.”
“I was lasered,” she said, then added, “I can hear your frown, Father Time,” surprising him because he was.
She didn’t explain more, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Makes a man recall where else you’re so well groomed.” She shivered from a mere murmur in her ear. “I’m lookin’ forward tae touchin’ you there again.”
“Ha! Why would you think that I would ever let you?”
“I happen to ken that you’re a lusty one. And I’ve taken away your wee alternative. Tossed it into a river.” As she gasped, he said, “Took me a minute to figure out what it was—a minute more to believe you actually had it. Then imagining you using it? Had me in such a state, I could scarcely run without tripping over my own feet.”
“You’re trying to embarrass me again. Give it up. I’m not going to be ashamed because I’m like every other girl my age.”
“I doona want you to be ashamed—never in matters like that. And I ken you’re to turn immortal soon, know the need must be overwhelming. In fact, most females get confused by all their new lustiness,” he said. “Best to have a firm hand to guide them into immortal sex.”
“And I’ll just bet that you’re happy to volunteer.”
Making his tone aggrieved, he sighed, “If I must . . . ~ Kresley Cole,
815:a good story, I’ll give you that. So, how many times have you done this sort of thing?  Send the inbred trash out ahead on the road to spook up unsuspecting travelers and you all hang back, jerking each other off, waiting to ambush anyone that makes it past them?” The wounded man looked away, ignoring Shane’s comments. “Don’t worry kid, I won’t kill ya today. But if I catch you in a lie, or if I find more of your inbred cousins at this camp, I will make the last moments of your life very painful,” Shane said in a calm voice. “Why are you doing this?” Shane feigned laughter and ignored the question. “What’s your name kid?” “Kyle,” he answered. “Kyle, everything I do, I do for her.” “You kill for her?” “No, I protect her and I destroy anything that tries to harm her—” “It’s right up here, follow the white fence,” Kyle interrupted using his neck to point out a quickly approaching high fence skinned in white sheet metal. The fence was tall and set back off the road. Mounds of stacked cars and other junk could be seen piled high at points. Shane slowed the car and carefully eased over to the shoulder of the road. He put the car in park and killed the engine. Shane sat silently for a minute, hushing Kyle when he tried to speak. He opened the door and slowly walked to the front of the car while listening for sounds. He climbed onto the hood and moved to the roof of the sedan. He could just barely see inside the compound. As it appeared from the outside, it was definitely a scrap yard. Piles of sorted metal were scattered around a central building while rows of smashed and stacked cars made up the far sides of the lot. From ~ W J Lundy,
816:Strasberg. But during the spring and throughout the summer Lee lived in L.A., and for those months it was the master himself who taught at this little neighborhood residence. The lights went down and the first scene was up. I wasn’t familiar with A Moon for the Misbegotten, but even if I’d known it well, I wouldn’t have completely understood what was happening because whatever the two actors were working on, being heard wasn’t one of them. It didn’t matter. Their focus made it worth holding my breath to catch whatever words I could, as if we, the audience, were eavesdropping on something personal happening between these two people, something that they would hide if our presence were known. After the scene, the actors gathered their things and adjusted their clothes, never looking out at the watchers, talking only to each other, as if allowing themselves the few moments it takes to leave the privacy of concentration. Tucking their emotions out of sight, just as they tucked in their shirts and tied their shoes. Eventually they sat on the edge of the stage with varying degrees of awkward composure until the moderator (I’m sorry to say I don’t remember who it was that night) asked them what they’d been working on. After the actors explained their tasks, the moderator gave comments and finally asked for comments from the audience—all actors and members or, like me, invited observers. When the short break ended, everyone took their seats again and quieted as a tall, striking woman, a character actor I vaguely recognized, moved to center stage, keeping her eyes down. She stood still for what seemed to be a long time, then began ~ Sally Field,
817:Whatever your critics say about you has no bearing on your worth. You are a child of the Most High God. The Creator of the universe breathed life into you. You have seeds of greatness on the inside. You’ve been crowned with favor. God has already equipped and empowered you with everything you need. Don’t waste your valuable time trying to play up to people, trying to win over all your critics, or trying to prove to someone that you’re important.
Accept the fact that some people will never celebrate you. They will never recognize your gifts. That’s okay. Don’t be distracted. God has already lined up the right people to celebrate you, the right people who will cheer you on and help you fulfill your destiny.
If you want to live in victory, you have to be very careful with your time and attention. You have to know what thoughts to ignore, what comments to ignore, and, I say this respectfully, what people to ignore.
If someone at work is always on your nerves, making sarcastic comments, you could try to straighten them out, but you’d be wasting valuable time and energy that could be spent pursuing your dreams. Don’t be distracted. Ignore such people.
If a family member never gives you any credit, either you can let that upset and frustrate you or you can dismiss it and say, “No big deal. I don’t need their approval. I have almighty God’s approval.”
You don’t have to straighten people out. You don’t have to pay somebody back. You don’t have to be offended because of what someone said. You can ignore it and live happily. I’m convinced we would enjoy life a whole lot more if we would get good at knowing what to ignore. ~ Joel Osteen,
818:Pride in my father, thankfulness that he had been my father, and an ultimately grateful feeling of respect (grudging at first, it took a while to come) for the aching if imperfect love he never ceased to feel for Mom—these are the things I wanted to hold on to. It will soon be seven years since the night I bent down by his bed to press my ear against his chest and listen to his breathing as his life came to its end. But even now, and even after rounding out the story of his sometimes turbulent complexity, as I’ve felt obliged to do in order to keep faith with the reality of who he was, it is the reaffirming memories that crowd out all the rest. The sense that I was on a journey with my father—seventy-two years is a good big piece of anybody’s life—did not end abruptly on the day I buried him. On cold November nights when I’m in a thoughtful mood or worried about problems with my work, or personal missteps I may have made, and go out walking by myself along the country roads around my house, I like to imagine that he’s there beside me still, tapping that old cane of his, making his amusing comments on the unpredictable events and unexpected twists and turns in other people’s lives. Perhaps, over the next few years, that sense of his continuing companionship will fade. It probably will. But some part of the legacy my father and good mother gave me will, I know, remain with me even when their voices and their words and the expressions on their faces and the vivid details of their life’s adventure become attenuated in the course of time. Some of the blessings that our parents give us, I need to believe, outlive the death of memory. ~ Jonathan Kozol,
819:Darius bit his tongue to keep from grinning as Nicole hoisted herself into the wagon. He managed to keep the smile contained until he stepped aside to allow Wellborn to assist his wife. The moment he turned his back on the little minx, however, he let it loose. She was making it awfully hard to keep up the disgruntled employer pretense that he’d started last night. He usually had no trouble being disgruntled around people, especially when he was trussed up in a jacket with ridiculously tight sleeves and a collar that made his neck itch. His bad temper was legendary in the Thornton household. ’Twas why his mother finally stopped forcing him to attend parties and why his father put him in charge of King Star’s accounting records. Yet a few teasing comments from Nicole had him mighty close to whistling, for pity’s sake. He actually liked the chit. Outside of his sister and mother, he couldn’t remember ever actually liking a woman before. Oh, he’d been attracted to several and even admired a few, but he’d always felt pressured to put on an act for them, to cover up his flaws so they wouldn’t see his true self. When the act became too tedious, he simply forfeited the chase. Without much regret. Nicole, however, had already seen his flaws. He’d paraded them before her since the moment she arrived for her interview. Yet instead of turning up her nose, she’d come to accept them as part of him, even teased him about them. It left him with no tedious act to maintain, only a growing hunger to learn more about her, to prove that he could accept her flaws, as well. Starting with that bullheaded stubbornness that kept her from asking for help. ~ Karen Witemeyer,
820:The Guardian’s Paul Vallely has given a decent account of how Cardinal George Pell, appointed by Francis, began a review of the bank’s operations. Pell had successfully overhauled the Church’s finances in Sydney and Melbourne. The Australian son of a former heavyweight boxer, Pell is a political and doctrinal conservative who speaks aggressively and does not believe in man-made climate change. He is a cult hero among conservative Catholics. You can imagine what the Lavender Mafia think of him. Vallely notes grudgingly that, “For all his conservatism, Pell had for years been a vocal critic of the Roman Catholic bureaucracy and its corruption.” Pell moved quickly, and made enemies. A straight dealer to the point of unbearable bluntness, especially in the delicately perfumed and gold-embroidered world of the Holy See, Pell probably didn’t anticipate getting tripped up by dirty tactics: in this case, stories leaked to the media about—you guessed it—clerical abuse. The press reports were coincidentally timed, arriving just as Pell’s reforms of the bank began to take hold. It was alleged that Pell was soft on child abuse, thanks to offhand comments he had made years before, in typically ribald and direct Australian fashion. It was suggested that he may himself have some questions to answer about covering up abuse. Then the allegations widened, to direct accusations of historic sex abuse, at which point Pell had to put his work at the bank on hold. Now Pell is back in Australia, trying to clear his name, and his reforms are stalling, just as the intriguers intended. This is how efforts to clean up the Roman Catholic Church usually end. ~ Milo Yiannopoulos,
821:Don’t make that mistake again,” he said in a voice so quiet it was barely audible. He looked as if all his latent hostilities were waiting for an excuse to turn on her. “If you throw that cup at me, so help me, I’ll carry you over and put you down in the punch bowl!”
“You and the CIA, maybe!” Cecily hissed. “Go ahead and try…!”
Tate actually took a step toward her just as Colby managed to get between them. “Now, now,” he cautioned.
Cecily wasn’t backing down an inch. Neither was Tate. He’d gone from lazy affection and indulgent amusement to bristling antagonism in the space of weeks. Lately he flew into a rage if Cecily’s name was mentioned, but Colby hadn’t told her that.
“You have no right to make that kind of insinuation about me,” she said through her teeth. “I don’t get jobs lying on my back, and you know it!”
Tate’s black eyes narrowed. He looked formidable, but Cecily wasn’t intimidated by him. She never had been. He glanced at her hands, which were clenched on her cup, and then back to her rigid features. It had infuriated him to be the object of televised ridicule at the political dinner, and Audrey’s comments had only made things worse. He was carrying a grudge. But as he looked at Cecily, he felt an emptiness in his very soul. This woman had been a thorn in his side for years, ever since an impulsive act of compassion had made her his responsibility. In those days, she’d been demure and sweet and dependent on him, and her shy hero worship had been vaguely flattering. Now, she was a fiery, independent woman who didn’t give a damn about his disapproval or, apparently, his company, and she had done everything expect leave town to keep out of his way. ~ Diana Palmer,
822:In the anti-gun Spokane newspaper, internet comments indicated that many people had the clueless idea that Gerlach had shot the man – in the back – to stop the thief from stealing his car. One idiot wrote in defense of doing such, “That ‘inert property’ as you call it represents a significant part of a man’s life. Stealing it is the same as stealing a part of his life. Part of my life is far more important than all of a thief’s life.”

Analyze that statement. The world revolves around this speaker so much that a bit of his life spent earning an expensive object is worth “all of (another man’s) life.” Never forget that, in this country, human life is seen by the courts as having a higher value than what those courts call “mere property,” even if you’re shooting the most incorrigible lifelong thief to keep him from stealing the Hope Diamond. A principle of our law is also that the evil man has the same rights as a good man. Here we have yet another case of a person dangerously confusing “how he thinks things ought to be” with “how things actually are.”

As a rule of thumb, American law does not justify the use of deadly force to protect what the courts have called “mere property.” In the rare jurisdiction that does appear to allow this, ask yourself how the following words would resonate with a jury when uttered by plaintiff’s counsel in closing argument: “Ladies and gentlemen, the defendant has admitted that he killed the deceased over property. How much difference is there in your hearts between the man who kills another to steal that man’s property, and one who kills another to maintain possession of his own? Either way, he ended a human life for mere property! ~ Massad Ayoob,
823:Rabbi Zimmerman is away this Shabbat morning, so Rabbi David Stern leads Chever Torah in his place. Rabbi Stern is young, handsome, and possessed of a lightning quick wit. He wears his hair in the style made famous by J.F.K. His energy is contagious. The morning's discussion accelerates as he asks a question worthy of Rashi, then paces back and forth in front of the hall grinning with delight as we answer and respond with questions of our own. But a few minutes later the rhythm flags inexplicably and we sit silently, staring at our Torahs. Rabbi Stern fires off another question. No one answers. He offers a provocative observation - something controversial to stir the pot. Still, we are silent. Finally, in frustration, he exclaims, "Come on people! Somebody disagree with me! How can we learn anything if no one will disagree?"

We laugh. But it occurs to me that Rabbi Stern has offered the most profound observation of the day, and it is a very Jewish idea.

Unfortunately, most theological conversations I have had in church have been the self-reinforcing kind: a group of people sitting around telling each other what everyone already believes. If some brave soul interjects a radical new idea or questions one of the group's firmly held views, it is usually an unpleasant experience. We shift in our seats uncomfortably until someone rises to the bait. The discussion remains civil, but it seems that any challenge to the groups' theology must be corrected, so all comments are solidly aimed at that one goal: arriving at a preconceived answer.

Chever Torah has no such agenda. Or perhaps I should say all discussions have the same agenda: to explore the possibilities - all the possibilities. ~ Athol Dickson,
824:I heard Mr. Ingersoll many years ago in Chicago. The hall seated 5,000 people; every inch of standing-room was also occupied; aisles and platform crowded to overflowing. He held that vast audience for three hours so completely entranced that when he left the platform no one moved, until suddenly, with loud cheers and applause, they recalled him. He returned smiling and said: 'I'm glad you called me back, as I have something more to say. Can you stand another half-hour?' 'Yes: an hour, two hours, all night,' was shouted from various parts of the house; and he talked on until midnight, with unabated vigor, to the delight of his audience. This was the greatest triumph of oratory I had ever witnessed. It was the first time he delivered his matchless speech, 'The Liberty of Man, Woman, and Child'.

I have heard the greatest orators of this century in England and America; O'Connell in his palmiest days, on the Home Rule question; Gladstone and John Bright in the House of Commons; Spurgeon, James and Stopford Brooke, in their respective pulpits; our own Wendell Phillips, Henry Ward Beecher, and Webster and Clay, on great occasions; the stirring eloquence of our anti-slavery orators, both in Congress and on the platform, but none of them ever equalled Robert Ingersoll in his highest flights.

{Stanton's comments at the great Robert Ingersoll's funeral} ~ Elizabeth Cady Stanton,
825:And I still have other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into limbless monsters of pain. Once, in a sunset-ending street of Beardsley, she turned to little Eva Rosen (I was taking both nymphets to a concert and walking behind them so close as almost to touch them with my person), she turned to Eva, and so very serenely and seriously, in answer to something the other had said about its being better to die than hear Milton Pinski, some local schoolboy she knew, talk about music, my Lolita remarked:
'You know, what's so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own'; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling's mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile clichés, there was in her a garden and a twilight, and a palace gate — dim and adorable regions which happened to be lucidly and absolutely forbidden to me, in my polluted rags and miserable convulsions; for I often noticed that living as we did, she and I, in a world of total evil, we would become strangely embarrassed whenever I tried to discuss something she and an older friend, she and a parent, she and a real healthy sweetheart, I and Annabel, Lolita and a sublime, purified, analyzed, deified Harold Haze, might have discussed — and abstract idea, a painting, stippled Hopkins or shorn Baudelaire, God or Shakespeare, anything of a genuine kind. Good will! She would mail her vulnerability in trite brashness and boredom, whereas I, using for my desperately detached comments an artificial tone of voice that set my own last teeth on edge, provoked my audience to such outburst of rudeness as made any further conversation impossible, oh my poor, bruised child. ~ Vladimir Nabokov,
826:Zane awakened them both early. By the time Chase stirred, he had both their tents down and was on his third cup of coffee. Phoebe had promised she could act completely normal, but looking at her from across the fire, he wasn’t so sure. There was no way anyone could see her dreamy expression and not know something was different.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What? You keep looking at me. I know my makeup can’t be smudged. I’m not wearing any.”
It didn’t matter; she was still beautiful.
“You look different,” he told her. “Satisfied?”
Color flared on her cheeks. “You’re only saying that because you know the truth.”
“Uh-huh.”
He doubted that, but maybe she was right. Or maybe the weather would be enough of a distraction to keep everyone from figuring out the truth.
“How long is it going to rain?” she asked as she fingered a pole holding up the canvas sheet they put up to protect the fire and the seating area around it. “It sure got cold and damp in a hurry.”
Zane shrugged. “No way to tell. The storm is supposed to hang around for a few days, but maybe it will blow over.”
He hoped it would. Traveling in the rain wouldn’t be fun for anyone. And he couldn’t simply turn them around, head to the ranch and be there in time for lunch. They were at the farthest point from his house. It was a full two-day ride back.
Phoebe finished her coffee. “I’m going to check and see if my things are dry,” she said as she stood.
He nodded, then watched her go.
Cookie had started a second campfire on the far side of camp. Phoebe’s clothes and sleeping bag were getting a dose of smoky warm air in an attempt to get them dry before they headed out. Zane knew the old man wouldn’t tease Phoebe. Instead he would save his comments for Zane. ~ Susan Mallery,
827:Hitler’s style of leadership functioned precisely because of the readiness of all his subordinates to accept his unique standing in the party, and their belief that such eccentricities of behaviour had simply to be taken on board in someone they saw as a political genius. ‘He always needs people who can translate his ideologies into reality so that they can be implemented,’ Pfeffer is reported as stating. Hitler’s way was, in fact, not to hand out streams of orders to shape important political decisions. Where possible, he avoided decisions. Rather, he laid out – often in his diffuse and opinionated fashion – his ideas at length and repeatedly. These provided the general guidelines and direction for policy-making. Others had to interpret from his comments how they thought he wanted them to act and ‘work towards’ his distant objectives. ‘If they could all work in this way,’ Hitler was reported as stating from time to time, ‘if they could all strive with firm, conscious tenacity towards a common, distant goal, then the ultimate goal must one day be achieved. That mistakes will be made is human. It is a pity. But that will be overcome if a common goal is constantly adopted as a guideline.’ This instinctive way of operating, embedded in Hitler’s social-Darwinist approach, not only unleashed ferocious competition among those in the party – later in the state – trying to reach the ‘correct’ interpretation of Hitler’s intentions. It also meant that Hitler, the unchallenged fount of ideological orthodoxy by this time, could always side with those who had come out on top in the relentless struggle going on below him, with those who had best proven that they were following the ‘right guidelines’. And since only Hitler could determine this, his power position was massively enhanced. ~ Ian Kershaw,
828:Regression effects are ubiquitous, and so are misguided causal stories to explain them. A well-known example is the “Sports Illustrated jinx,” the claim that an athlete whose picture appears on the cover of the magazine is doomed to perform poorly the following season. Overconfidence and the pressure of meeting high expectations are often offered as explanations. But there is a simpler account of the jinx: an athlete who gets to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated must have performed exceptionally well in the preceding season, probably with the assistance of a nudge from luck—and luck is fickle. I happened to watch the men’s ski jump event in the Winter Olympics while Amos and I were writing an article about intuitive prediction. Each athlete has two jumps in the event, and the results are combined for the final score. I was startled to hear the sportscaster’s comments while athletes were preparing for their second jump: “Norway had a great first jump; he will be tense, hoping to protect his lead and will probably do worse” or “Sweden had a bad first jump and now he knows he has nothing to lose and will be relaxed, which should help him do better.” The commentator had obviously detected regression to the mean and had invented a causal story for which there was no evidence. The story itself could even be true. Perhaps if we measured the athletes’ pulse before each jump we might find that they are indeed more relaxed after a bad first jump. And perhaps not. The point to remember is that the change from the first to the second jump does not need a causal explanation. It is a mathematically inevitable consequence of the fact that luck played a role in the outcome of the first jump. Not a very satisfactory story—we would all prefer a causal account—but that is all there is. ~ Daniel Kahneman,
829:I am leaving this tower and returning home. When I speak with family, and comments are always the same, 'Won't you be glad to get back to the real world?'

This is my question after two weeks of time, only two weeks, spent with prairie dogs, 'What is real?'

What is real? These prairie dogs and the lives they live and have adapted to in grassland communities over time, deep time?

What is real? A gravel pit adjacent to one of the last remaining protected prairie dog colonies in the world? A corral where cowboys in an honest day's work saddle up horses with prairie dogs under hoof for visitors to ride in Bryce Canyon National Park?

What is real? Two planes slamming into the World Trade Center and the wake of fear that has never stopped in this endless war of terror?

What is real? Forgiveness or revenge and the mounting deaths of thousands of human beings as America wages war in Afghanistan and Iraq?

What is real? Steve's recurrence of lymphoma? A closet full of shoes? Making love? Making money? Making right with the world with the smallest of unseen gestures?

How do we wish to live And with whom?

What is real to me are these prairie dogs facing the sun each morning and evening in the midst of man-made chaos.

What is real to me are the consequences of cruelty.

What is real to me are the concentric circles of compassion and its capacity to bring about change.

What is real to me is the power of our awareness when we are focused on something beyond ourselves. It is a shaft of light shining in a dark corner. Our ability to shift our perceptions and seek creative alternatives to the conundrums of modernity is in direct proportion to our empathy. Can we imagine, witness, and ultimately feel the suffering of another. ~ Terry Tempest Williams,
830:In our relationships, weatherproofing typically plays itself out like this: You meet someone and all is well. You are attracted to his or her appearance, personality, intellect, sense of humor, or some combination of these traits. Initially, you not only approve of your differences with this person, you actually appreciate them. You might even be attracted to the person, in part because of how different you are. You have different opinions, preferences, tastes, and priorities. After a while, however, you begin to notice little quirks about your new partner (or friend, teacher, whoever), that you feel could be improved upon. You bring it to their attention. You might say, “You know, you sure have a tendency to be late.” Or, “I’ve noticed you don’t read very much.” The point is, you’ve begun what inevitably turns into a way of life—looking for and thinking about what you don’t like about someone, or something that isn’t quite right. Obviously, an occasional comment, constructive criticism, or helpful guidance isn’t cause for alarm. I have to say, however, that in the course of working with hundreds of couples over the years, I’ve met very few people who didn’t feel that they were weatherproofed at times by their partner. Occasional harmless comments have an insidious tendency to become a way of looking at life. When you are weatherproofing another human being, it says nothing about them—but it does define you as someone who needs to be critical. Whether you have a tendency to weatherproof your relationships, certain aspects of your life, or both, what you need to do is write off weatherproofing as a bad idea. As the habit creeps into your thinking, catch yourself and seal your lips. The less often you weatherproof your partner or your friends, the more you’ll notice how super your life really is. ~ Richard Carlson,
831:In explaining the way that trivial, if diverting, pursuits like Guitar Hero provide an easy alternative to meaningful work, Horning draws on the writing of political theorist Jon Elster. In his 1986 book An Introduction to Karl Marx, Elster used a simple example to illustrate the psychic difference between the hard work of developing talent and the easy work of consuming stuff: Compare playing the piano with eating lamb chops. The first time one practices the piano it is difficult, even painfully so. By contrast, most people enjoy lamb chops the first time they eat them. Over time, however, these patterns are reversed. Playing the piano becomes increasingly more rewarding, whereas the taste for lamb chops becomes satiated and jaded with repeated, frequent consumption. Elster then made a broader point: Activities of self-realization are subject to increasing marginal utility: They become more enjoyable the more one has already engaged in them. Exactly the opposite is true of consumption. To derive sustained pleasure from consumption, diversity is essential. Diversity, on the other hand, is an obstacle to successful self-realization, as it prevents one from getting into the later and more rewarding stages. “Consumerism,” comments Horning, “keeps us well supplied with stuff and seems to enrich our identities by allowing us to become familiar with a wide range of phenomena—a process that the internet has accelerated immeasurably. . . . But this comes at the expense with developing any sense of mastery of anything, eroding over time the sense that mastery is possible, or worth pursuing.” Distraction is the permanent end state of the perfected consumer, not least because distraction is a state that is eminently programmable. To buy a guitar is to open possibilities. To buy Guitar Hero is to close them. A ~ Nicholas Carr,
832:As if on cue, Roo strolled out of the bakery, carrying a huge cinnamon roll in one hand and a giant cappuccino in the other. She wore a black taffeta miniskirt, black tights, black ballet slippers, and a black tank top over a purple T-shirt. Watching her a moment, Parker turned to the others and sighed.
“Look at her. Fashion Goddess of the Dark Realm.”
She’s creative,” Ashley emphasized. “And her realm isn’t always a bad place to be.”
“Neither is hell. If you’re the Antichrist.”
This earned Parker a slug on the arm. Grinning, he pulled Ashley close and kissed her.
“Don’t even ask,” Roo announced as she joined them. “These are mine, and I’m not sharing.”
Gage promptly tore off a fourth of the cinnamon roll and popped it in his mouth. Etienne took a third of what was left. Roo stood there looking down at her practically empty napkin.
“You didn’t need that, anyway,” Ashley insisted. “All those calories.”
Parker gave Roo a serious once-over. “Since when has Roo cared about calories? No, wait. Since when has Roo cared about clothes? No, wait. Since when has Roo cared about how she looks?”
He stared at Gage. Gage stared at Etienne. Etienne stared at Parker.
“Since when has Roo cared about anything?” they all asked in unison.
Feeling a little envious, Miranda observed the good-natured teasing. The kids back home hadn’t shared this kind of camaraderie. Not that they hadn’t been close--their own special group of girls and guys--but what Miranda saw here was different.
Stronger, somehow.
Like a real family.
Miranda refocused on the three boys. Roo didn’t seem the least bit bothered by their comments. As Gage reached for the last bite of cinnamon roll, Roo stuffed it quickly into her mouth. Etienne just as quickly snatched the cappuccino from her other hand. ~ Richie Tankersley Cusick,
833:In our own day anonymity has acquired a far more pregnant significance than is perhaps realized: it has an almost epigrammatic significance. People not only write anonymously, they sign their anonymous works: they even talk anonymously...Nowadays one can talk with any one, and it must be admitted that people's opinions are exceedingly sensible, yet the conversation leaves one with the impression of having talked to an anonymity. The same person will say the most contradictory things and, with the utmost calm, make a remark, which coming from him is a bitter satire on his own life. The remark itself may be sensible enough, and of the kind that sounds well at a meeting, and may serve in a discussion preliminary to coming to a decision, in much the same way that paper is made out of rags. But all these opinions put together do not make one human, personal opinion such as you may hear from quite a simple man who talks about very little but really does talk. People's remarks are so objective, so all all-inclusive, that it is a matter of complete indifference who expresses them, and where human speech is concerned that is the same as acting 'on principle'. And so our talk becomes like the public, a pure abstraction. There is no longer any one who knows how to talk, and instead, objective thought produces an atmosphere, an abstract sound, which makes human speech superfluous, just as machinery makes man superfluous. In Germany they even have phrase-books for the use of lovers, and it will end with lovers sitting together talking anonymously. In fact there are hand-books for everything, and very soon education, all the world over, will consist in learning a greater or lesser number of comments by heart, and people will excel according to their capacity for singling out the various facts like a printer singling out the letters, but completely ignorant of the meaning of anything. ~ S ren Kierkegaard,
834:Let us finally consider how naive it is altogether to say: "Man ought to be such and such!" Reality shows us an enchanting wealth of types, the abundance of a lavish play and change of forms — and some wretched loafer of a moralist comments: "No! Man ought to be different." He even knows what man should be like, this wretched bigot and prig: he paints himself on the wall and comments, "Ecce homo!" But even when the moralist addresses himself only to the single human being and says to him, "You ought to be such and such!" he does not cease to make himself ridiculous. The single human being is a piece of fatum from the front and from the rear, one law more, one necessity more for all that is yet to come and to be. To say to him, "Change yourself!" is to demand that everything be changed, even retroactively. And indeed there have been consistent moralists who wanted man to be different, that is, virtuous — they wanted him remade in their own image, as a prig: to that end, they negated the world! No small madness! No modest kind of immodesty!
Morality, insofar as it condemns for its own sake, and not out of regard for the concerns, considerations, and contrivances of life, is a specific error with which one ought to have no pity — an idiosyncrasy of degenerates which has caused immeasurable harm.
We others, we immoralists, have, conversely, made room in our hearts for every kind of understanding, comprehending, and approving. We do not easily negate; we make it a point of honor to be affirmers. More and more, our eyes have opened to that economy which needs and knows how to utilize everything that the holy witlessness of the priest, the diseased reason in the priest, rejects — that economy in the law of life which finds an advantage even in the disgusting species of the prigs, the priests, the virtuous. What advantage? But we ourselves, we immoralists, are the answer. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
835:q) Consultation with CVC or UPSC where necessary (r) Forward the inquiry report to the delinquent employee together with the reasons for disagreement, if any and the recommendations of the CVC where applicable - Rule 15(2) (s) Considering the response of the delinquent employee to the inquiry report and the reasons for disagreement and taking a view on the quantum of penalty or closure of the case. Rule 15(2)A (t) Pass final order in the matter – Rule 15(3) (u) On receipt of copy of the appeal from the penalized employee, prepare comments on the Appeal and forward the same to the Appellate Authority together with relevant records. - Rule 26(3) 9. What happens if any of the functions of the Disciplinary Authority has been performed by an authority subordinate to the disciplinary authority? Where a statutory function has been performed by an authority who has not been empowered to perfrom it, such action without jurisdiction would be rendered null and void. The Hon’ble Supreme Court in its Judgment dated 5 th September 2013, in Civil Appeal No. 7761 of 2013 (Union of India & Ors.Vsd. B V Gopinathan) has held that the statutory power under Rule 14(3) of the CCA rule has necessarily to be performed by the Disciplinary Authority. as under: “49. Although number of collateral issues had been raised by the learned counsel for the appellants as well the respondents, we deem it appropriate not to opine on the same in view of the conclusion that the charge sheet/charge memo having not been approved by the disciplinary authority was non est in the eye of law. ” 10. What knowledge is required for the efficient discharge of the duties in conducting disciplinary proceedings? Disciplinary Authority is required to be conversant with the following: Constitutional provisions under Part III (Fundamental Rights) and Part XIV (Services Under the Union and the States) Principles of Natural Justice 7 ~ Anonymous,
836:A Man's Repentance
To-night when I came from the club at eleven,
Under the gaslight I saw a faceA woman's face! and I swear to heaven
It looked like the ghastly ghost of-Grace!
And Grace? why, Grace was fair; and I tarried,
And loved her a season as we men do.
And then-but pshaw! why, of course, she is married,
Has a husband, and doubtless, a babe or two.
She was perfectly calm on the day we parted;
She spared me a scene, to my great surprise.
She wasn't the kind to be broken-hearted,
I remember she said, with a spark in her eyes.
I was tempted, I know, by her proud defiance,
To make good my promises there and then.
But the world would have called it a mésalliance!
I dreaded the comments and sneers of men.
So I left her to grieve for a faithless lover,
And to hide her heart from the cold world's sight
As women do hide them, the wide earth over;
My God! was it Grace that I saw to-night?
I thought of her married, and often with pity,
A poor man's wife in some dull place.
And now to know she is here in the city,
Under the gaslight, and with that face!
Yet I knew it at once, in spite of the daubing
Of paint and powder, and she knew me;
She drew a quick breath that was almost sobbing,
26
And shrank in the shade so I should not see.
There was hell in her eyes! She was worn and jaded;
Her soul is at war with the life she has led.
As I looked on that face so strangely faded,
I wonder God did not strike me dead.
While I have been happy and gay and jolly,
Received by the very best people in town,
That girl whom I led in the way to folly,
Has gone on recklessly down and down.
Two o'clock, and no sleep has found me.
That face I saw in the street-lamp's light
Peers everywhere out from the shadows around meI know how a murderer feels to-night!
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
837:In about 1951, a quality approach called Total Productive Maintenance (TPM) came on the Japanese scene. Its focus is on maintenance rather than on production. One of the major pillars of TPM is the set of so-called 5S principles. 5S is a set of disciplines—and here I use the term “discipline” instructively. These 5S principles are in fact at the foundations of Lean—another buzzword on the Western scene, and an increasingly prominent buzzword in software circles. These principles are not an option. As Uncle Bob relates in his front matter, good software practice requires such discipline: focus, presence of mind, and thinking. It is not always just about doing, about pushing the factory equipment to produce at the optimal velocity. The 5S philosophy comprises these concepts: • Seiri, or organization (think “sort” in English). Knowing where things are—using approaches such as suitable naming—is crucial. You think naming identifiers isn’t important? Read on in the following chapters. • Seiton, or tidiness (think “systematize” in English). There is an old American saying: A place for everything, and everything in its place. A piece of code should be where you expect to find it—and, if not, you should re-factor to get it there. • Seiso, or cleaning (think “shine” in English): Keep the workplace free of hanging wires, grease, scraps, and waste. What do the authors here say about littering your code with comments and commented-out code lines that capture history or wishes for the future? Get rid of them. • Seiketsu, or standardization: The group agrees about how to keep the workplace clean. Do you think this book says anything about having a consistent coding style and set of practices within the group? Where do those standards come from? Read on. • Shutsuke, or discipline (self-discipline). This means having the discipline to follow the practices and to frequently reflect on one’s work and be willing to change. ~ Robert C Martin,
838:Are you sorry it happened?” Her fingers clenched as she waited tensely for his answer.
“Good Lord, no.” He brought her small fist to his mouth and kissed it open, and flattened her palm against the side of his face. “It’s what I’ve wanted most in my entire life. And the one thing I knew I could never have. I’m surprised. Shocked, even. But never sorry.”
Daisy turned and snuggled against him, sandwiching one of his thighs between her own.
The rain beat out a brisk song against the side of the house, some of it coming through the window. Considering the idea of getting out of bed, Daisy shivered a little, and felt Matthew draw the covers higher over her bare shoulder.
“Daisy,” he asked without heat, “where is the damn key?”
“I put it in your coat pocket,” she said helpfully. “Didn’t you see? No?…well, I suppose you were distracted at the time.” She trailed her hand over his chest, letting her palm graze the point of his nipple. “You’re probably angry with me for locking us in the bedroom.”
“Enraged,” he agreed. “I insist you do it every night after we’re married.”
“Are we going to get married?” Daisy whispered, raising her head.
His eyes were warm, but there was no hint of pleasure in his voice. “Yes, we’re going to marry. Although you’ll probably hate me for it someday.”
“Why in the world would I…oh.” Daisy remembered what he had told her about the likelihood of his past catching up to him someday. “I could never hate you,” she said. “And I’m not afraid of your secrets, Matthew. Whatever comes, I’ll face it with you. Although you should know I find it exasperating when you throw out comments like that and refuse to explain.”
There was a sudden catch of laughter in his chest. “That’s only one of many reasons you find me exasperating.”
“True.” She crawled on top of him and nuzzled his chest like an inquisitive kitten. “But I like exasperating men much more than the nice ones. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
839:I have friends like that—very straightforward and responsible, good at what they do, good home life. But they get stressed, and they blow off steam by posting aggressive comments on the web. Their web personality is different from their real personality. They keep them separate. They just laugh and say it’s okay to write whatever you can’t say in the real world, no matter how critical or negative it is. That does seem to be one purpose of the Internet for a lot of people.”

Kotaro nodded.

“But I think my friends are wrong. Their posts will never disappear. They think they’re just putting opinions out there. They don’t use real names. They say what they think. They assume no one pays attention for more than a few moments. That’s a big mistake.”

“Most of what goes on the net, stays on the net—somewhere.”

“That’s not what I mean. No matter how carefully they choose their words, whatever they say, the words they use stay inside them. Everything is cumulative. Words don’t ‘disappear.’

“Maybe they post a comment saying a certain actress should just die. They think they’ve blown off steam by criticizing someone no one likes anyway. But those words—’I hope she dies’—stay inside the writer, along with the feeling that it’s acceptable to write things like that. All that negativity accumulates, and someday the weight of it will change the writer.

“That’s what words do. However they’re expressed, there’s no way people can separate their words from themselves. They can’t escape the influence of their own thoughts. They can divide their comments among different handles and successfully hide their identity, but they can’t hide from themselves. They know who they are. You can’t run from yourself.”

Mom would say, “What goes around, comes around.”

“So be careful, Kotaro. If the real world is stressing you out, deal with your stress in the real world, no matter how dumb you think it makes you look. Okay? ~ Miyuki Miyabe,
840:And don’t call me ‘my lord.’ That’s what servants do. You’re my fiancée, remember?” He sounded irritated. “I’ll call you Maria, and you should probably call me by my Christian name-Oliver.”
An unusual name for an English lord. “Where you named after the playwright, Oliver Goldsmith?”
“Alas, no. I was named after the Puritan, Oliver Cromwell.”
“You’re joking.”
“Afraid not. My father thought it amusing, considering his own…er…tendency toward debauchery.”
Lord help her, the man’s very name was a jab at respectability. Meanwhile, his estate could probably hold the entire town of Dartmouth!
A sudden panic seized her. How could she pretend to be the fiancée of a man who owned a house like that?
I was named after King Frederick,” Freddy put in.
“Which one?” asked Lord Stoneville. Oliver.
“There’s more than one?” Freddy asked.
“There’s at least ten,” the marquess said dryly.
Freddy knit his brow. “I’m not sure which one.”
When humor glinted in Oliver’s eyes, Maria said, “I think Aunt Rose was aiming for a generally royal-sounding name.”
“That’s it,” Freddy put in. “Just a King Frederick in general.”
“I see,” Oliver said solemnly, though his lips had a decided twitch. His gaze flicked to her. “What about you? Which Maria are you named after?”
“The Virgin Mary, of course,” Freddy said.
“Of course,” Oliver said, eyes gleaming. “I should have known.”
“We’re Catholic,” Freddy added.
“My mother was Catholic,” Maria corrected him. “Papa wasn’t, but since Freddy’s mother is, too, we were both raised Catholic.” Not that she’d ever taken any of it very seriously. Papa had always railed against the foolishness of religion.
A devious smile broke over Oliver’s face. “A Catholic, too? Oh, this just gets better and better. Gran will have an apoplectic fit when she meets you.”
Tired of his insulting comments about her background, she said, “Really, sir-“
“We’re here,” he announced as the coach pulled to a halt. ~ Sabrina Jeffries,
841:I completely under—oh!’’ Aisling hunched forward again as Gabriel slid his arm under her legs.

Drake exploded, slamming Gabriel up against the wall, snarling something that sounded vicious, his arm against Gabriel’s windpipe.

Maata and Tipene were instantly at his side but at a gesture from Gabriel backed away.

‘‘Drake, let him down. It’s just a twinge, nothing more!’’ Aisling said, waving me toward them. ‘‘Stop him, May. Although don’t hurt him; I’m rather fond of him as he is, overprotective tendencies and all.’’

I tapped Drake politely on the shoulder. ‘‘Would you mind letting Gabriel down? I promise I won’t let him hold Aisling’s hand anymore. Or touch her stomach.’’

Drake eyed Gabriel for a moment. I have to admit that Gabriel surprised me by not fighting back. Having seen him go at it with Drake’s black-dragon brother, Kostya, I knew he was not one to remain passive when attacked. But he stayed still, not struggling at all despite the fact that his face was gaining a dull red tint due to lack of oxygen.

‘‘All right,’’ Drake said at last, removing his hold on Gabriel. ‘‘But I will hold you responsible for his actions.’’

Gabriel’s eyes flashed in warning, but Aisling bursting into laughter defused the situation enough that he could see the ridiculousness of such a comment.

I touched a faintly swollen spot on Gabriel’s neck. ‘‘Would you like me to kiss what hurts and make it better?’’ I asked softly.

He’d been looking at Aisling, obviously about to make some observation about her health, but at my words a new look of interest filled his eyes. ‘‘Only if I get to pick what needs kissing.’’

‘‘I am so glad Jim is not present to hear that, because it would no doubt make all sorts of inappropriate comments that would force me tosmack it with a rolled-up magazine, and then we’d be back to Gabriel groping my stomach and Drake having a hissy fit,’’ Aisling said, helping herself to a glass of orange juice. ~ Katie MacAlister,
842:In under two weeks, and with no budget, thousands of college students protested the movie on their campuses nationwide, angry citizens vandalized our billboards in multiple neighborhoods, FoxNews.com ran a front-page story about the backlash, Page Six of the New York Post made their first of many mentions of Tucker, and the Chicago Transit Authority banned and stripped the movie’s advertisements from their buses. To cap it all off, two different editorials railing against the film ran in the Washington Post and Chicago Tribune the week it was released. The outrage about Tucker was great enough that a few years later, it was written into the popular television show Portlandia on IFC. I guess it is safe to admit now that the entire firestorm was, essentially, fake. I designed the advertisements, which I bought and placed around the country, and then promptly called and left anonymous complaints about them (and leaked copies of my complaints to blogs for support). I alerted college LGBT and women’s rights groups to screenings in their area and baited them to protest our offensive movie at the theater, knowing that the nightly news would cover it. I started a boycott group on Facebook. I orchestrated fake tweets and posted fake comments to articles online. I even won a contest for being the first one to send in a picture of a defaced ad in Chicago (thanks for the free T-shirt, Chicago RedEye. Oh, also, that photo was from New York). I manufactured preposterous stories about Tucker’s behavior on and off the movie set and reported them to gossip websites, which gleefully repeated them. I paid for anti-woman ads on feminist websites and anti-religion ads on Christian websites, knowing each would write about it. Sometimes I just Photoshopped ads onto screenshots of websites and got coverage for controversial ads that never actually ran. The loop became final when, for the first time in history, I put out a press release to answer my own manufactured criticism: TUCKER MAX RESPONDS TO CTA DECISION: “BLOW ME,” the headline read. ~ Ryan Holiday,
843:As I looked over this curious document, I was particularly struck by a band of text across the bottom. It bore the title “Paperwork Reduction Act Notice” and read: The time needed to complete and file this form will vary depending on individual circumstances. The estimated average time is: The text then cheerfully concluded with a note that if I had comments “concerning the accuracy of these time estimates or suggestions for making this form simpler” the IRS would be happy to hear from me. It provided an address in Washington, D.C., where I could send my comments. The Paperwork Reduction Act, passed in 1980 in the waning days of the Carter administration and amended in 1995, is a classic example of structural deepening gone awry. The law was supposed to improve the efficiency of the U.S. federal government and lighten the burden of paperwork on citizens. In Brian Arthur’s terms, the additional complexity introduced by the law was supposed to improve government performance. But it has not worked. Although the U.S. Office of Management and Budget hired a special staff to review and approve every form and information request of every agency of the federal government, the estimated total time that the U.S. public invested each year fulfilling federal paperwork requirements rose from 4.7 billion hours in 1980 to 6.7 billion hours in 1996.14 More perversely, Form 1001 showed how the law makes government more inefficient and confusing to the average person. My first reaction to the notice at the bottom was to add up the time allotments. Was I really supposed to spend over six and a half hours on this form? The suggested times seemed so precise, and the total amount so daunting, that Form 1001 practically leapt at me with self-importance. And what records, exactly, was I supposed to spend four hours and thirty-two minutes keeping? I hadn’t a clue. In its entirety, Form 1001 resembled the jumble of hoses and wiring under the hood of a modern car, and the “Paperwork Reduction Act Notice” at the bottom was a particularly forbidding clump of complexity. ~ Thomas Homer Dixon,
844:Another tidbit you might be interested in is when it comes to chicks and open mouths, guys -" Decebel leaned over and covered Jen's mouth with his hand and warned her with a glare to swallow her words.
"Thanks, Dec. That's usually my job,"
Sally told him. "But I was in such shock that I couldn't get my limbs to move."
Decebel inclined his head. "Is that why you always seem to stand so close to her?"
"It's of utmost importance that whoever is within her reach be ready at any and all moments to intercept what might come from that wicked tongue."
en was frantically trying to talk around Decebel's hand at Sally's comment. Decebel was quickly learning how Jennifer's brain worked, and could only imagine what she wanted to voice in regards to Sally's wicked tongue comment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to uncover your mouth. It would be wise of you to just let the wicked tongue comment slide."
Jen glared at him from the corner of her eye, and after a tense moment finally nodded once in submission. Decebel slowly uncovered her mouth, ready if need be to slap it right back over her lips.
The room began to get quiet and they all directed their attention to the front of the room. As Vasile welcomed everyone for coming and began to explain about the meeting he had with the other Alphas, Jen leaned over to Decebel. "You owe me. Sally walked right into it with that whole wicked tongue thing."
Decebel chuckled and whispered back,
"For some reason, ţinere de meu inimă (one who holds my heart), I have a feeling there will be plenty of opportunities for you to embarrass your friends for questionable comments they innocently walk into."
Jen shrugged. "True enough, but you still owe me. And what are you calling me when you speak Romanian? You've said the same phrase to me twice now."
Decebel patted her leg, causing all sorts of tingling sensations. "Dar tu romaneste, Micul meu lup. (but you speak Romanian, my little wolf)"
"I know what lup is and I am not a wolf.
Whatever else you said I'm sure is a load of crap as well. ~ Quinn Loftis,
845:A Role Model for Managers of Managers Gordon runs a technical group with seven managers reporting to him at a major telecommunications company. Now in his late thirties, Gordon was intensely interested in “getting ahead” early in his career but now is more interested in stability and doing meaningful work. It’s worth noting that Gordon has received some of the most positive 360 degree feedback reports from supervisors, direct reports, and peers that we’ve ever seen. This is not because Gordon is a “soft touch” or because he’s easy to work for. In fact, Gordon is extraordinarily demanding and sets high standards both for his team and for individual performance. His people, however, believe Gordon’s demands are fair and that he communicates what he wants clearly and quickly. Gordon is also very clear about the major responsibility of his job: to grow and develop managers. To do so, he provides honest feedback when people do well or poorly. In the latter instance, however, he provides feedback that is specific and constructive. Though his comments may sting at first, he doesn’t turn negative feedback into a personal attack. Gordon knows his people well and tailors his interactions with them to their particular needs and sensitivities. When Gordon talks about his people, you hear the pride in his words and tone of voice. He believes that one of his most significant accomplishments is that a number of his direct reports have been promoted and done well in their new jobs. In fact, people in other parts of the organization want to work for Gordon because he excels in producing future high-level managers and leaders. Gordon also delegates well, providing people with objectives and allowing them the freedom to achieve the objectives in their own ways. He’s also skilled at selection and spends a great deal of time on this issue. For personal reasons (he doesn’t want to relocate his family), Gordon may not advance much further in the organization. At the same time, he’s fulfilling his manager-of-managers role to the hilt, serving as a launching pad for the careers of first-time managers. ~ Ram Charan,
846:If we are honest — and scientists have to be — we must admit that religion is a jumble of false assertions, with no basis in reality. The very idea of God is a product of the human imagination. It is quite understandable why primitive people, who were so much more exposed to the overpowering forces of nature than we are today, should have personified these forces in fear and trembling. But nowadays, when we understand so many natural processes, we have no need for such solutions. I can't for the life of me see how the postulate of an Almighty God helps us in any way. What I do see is that this assumption leads to such unproductive questions as why God allows so much misery and injustice, the exploitation of the poor by the rich and all the other horrors He might have prevented. If religion is still being taught, it is by no means because its ideas still convince us, but simply because some of us want to keep the lower classes quiet. Quiet people are much easier to govern than clamorous and dissatisfied ones. They are also much easier to exploit. Religion is a kind of opium that allows a nation to lull itself into wishful dreams and so forget the injustices that are being perpetrated against the people. Hence the close alliance between those two great political forces, the State and the Church. Both need the illusion that a kindly God rewards — in heaven if not on earth — all those who have not risen up against injustice, who have done their duty quietly and uncomplainingly. That is precisely why the honest assertion that God is a mere product of the human imagination is branded as the worst of all mortal sins. ~ Paul Dirac, Remarks made during the Fifth Solvay International Conference (October 1927), as quoted in Physics and Beyond: Encounters and Conversations (1971) by Werner Heisenberg, pp. 85-86; these comments prompted the famous remark later in the day by Wolfgang Pauli: "Well, our friend Dirac, too, has a religion, and its guiding principle is "God does not exist and Dirac is His prophet." Variant translations and paraphrases of that comment are listed in the "Quotes about Dirac" section below.,
847:Grand Provost.”
Rava’s voice, clear and crisp, startled me. She stood to my left, in the doorway of her office, and I had the impression she had been watching for me.
“Come in for a moment.”
The Cokyrian second-in-command retreated into her alcove, and I followed, closing the door as she went to stand behind her desk.
“How much power do you think he has?” she asked contemptuously, straightening her black tunic with a hard tug on the bottom.
“I don’t understand.” I tenaciously met her eyes, despite the dread creeping along my spine. It was obvious she had overheard my conversation with Narian.
“I understand the influence you have all too well. The commander will do exactly what you want, bend to your will. That alone should prove to you that strength is a woman’s endowment, not a man’s.”
She was testing me, taunting me, and I resented her for it.
“Are you going to continue with cryptic comments or are you going to say what you mean?” I demanded, rallying to take the offensive.
“You may love Nantilam’s little prince, but you’re blind to the fact that he is an instrument. He has been from the beginning and he always will be, until she has no further use for him. Nantilam cares for him and would rather see him alive than dead, but she will not listen to him, or to words he bears from you. I have her ear. She will listen only to the most powerful woman n this godforsaken province, and that woman is me.”
She was baiting me, successfully; I was on the verge of losing my temper. Knowing that would be a mistake, I let the silence between us lengthen, taking several slow and steady breaths. Then I gave her a small smile.
“The High Priestess made me Grand Provost because she wanted a woman in control who would understand the people. You do not understand my people, Rava. You keep them miserable because you fear them. And everything else aside, that makes you weak.”
Though Rava glowered at me, I was done with her, and coolly left her office. I could almost feel the slow tick of time, counting down to Narian’s return. He would prove one of us right and one of us wrong. ~ Cayla Kluver,
848:how I see the distinction between sexism and misogyny. When a husband tells his wife, “I can’t quite explain why and I don’t even like admitting this, but I don’t want you to make more money than me, so please don’t take that amazing job offer,” that’s sexism. He could still love her deeply and be a great partner in countless ways. But he holds tight to an idea that even he knows isn’t fair about how successful a woman is allowed to be. Sexism is all the big and little ways that society draws a box around women and says, “You stay in there.” Don’t complain because nice girls don’t do that. Don’t try to be something women shouldn’t be. Don’t wear that, don’t go there, don’t think that, don’t earn too much. It’s not right somehow, we can’t explain why, stop asking. We can all buy into sexism from time to time, often without even noticing it. Most of us try to keep an eye out for those moments and avoid them or, when we do misstep, apologize and do better next time. Misogyny is something darker. It’s rage. Disgust. Hatred. It’s what happens when a woman turns down a guy at a bar and he switches from charming to scary. Or when a woman gets a job that a man wanted and instead of shaking her hand and wishing her well, he calls her a bitch and vows to do everything he can to make sure she fails. Both sexism and misogyny are endemic in America. If you need convincing, just look at the YouTube comments or Twitter replies when a woman dares to voice a political opinion or even just share an anecdote from her own lived experience. People hiding in the shadows step forward just far enough to rip her apart. Sexism in particular can be so pervasive, we stop seeing it. It reminds me of the opening anecdote from author David Foster Wallace’s 2005 commencement speech at Kenyon College. Two young fish are swimming along. They meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says, “Morning, boys, how’s the water?” The two young fish swim on for a bit, until one looks at the other and asks, “What’s water?” “In other words,” Wallace said, “the most obvious realities are often the ones that are the hardest to see and talk about. ~ Hillary Rodham Clinton,
849:The earliest commentaries on Scripture had been of this discursive nature, being addresses by word of mouth to the people, which were taken down by secretaries, and so preserved. While the traditionary teaching of the Church still preserved the vigour and vividness of its Apostolical origin, and spoke with an exactness and cogency which impressed an adequate image of it upon the mind of the Christian Expositor, he was able to allow himself free range in handling the sacred text, and to admit into the comment his own particular character of mind, and his spontaneous and individual ideas, in the full security, that, however he might follow the leadings of his own thoughts in unfolding the words of Scripture, his own deeply fixed views of Catholic truth would bring him safe home, without overstepping the limits of truth and sobriety. Accordingly, while the early Fathers manifest a most remarkable agreement in the principles and the substance of their interpretation, they have at the same time a distinctive spirit and manner, by which each may be known from the rest. About the vith or viith century this originality disappears; the oral or traditionary teaching, which allowed scope to the individual teacher, became hardened into a written tradition, and henceforward there is a uniform invariable character as well as substance of Scripture interpretation. Perhaps we should not err in putting Gregory the Great as the last of the original Commentators; for though very numerous commentaries on every book of Scripture continued to be written by the most eminent doctors in their own names, probably not one interpretation of any importance would be found in them which could not be traced to some older source. So that all later comments are in fact Catenas or selections from the earlier Fathers, whether they present themselves expressly in the form of citations from their volumes, or are lections upon the Lesson or Gospel for the day, extempore indeed in form, but as to their materials drawn from the previous studies and stores of the expositor. The latter would be better adapted for the general reader, the former for the purposes of the theologian. ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas,
850:We need more baskets,” Pandora said triumphantly, entering the hall.
The twins, who were clearly having a splendid time, had adorned themselves outlandishly. Cassandra was dressed in a green opera cloak with a jeweled feather ornament affixed to her hair. Pandora had tucked a light blue lace parasol beneath one arm, and a pair of lawn tennis rackets beneath the other, and was wearing a flowery diadem headdress that had slipped partially over one eye.
“From the looks of it,” Kathleen said, “you’ve done enough shopping already.”
Cassandra looked concerned. “Oh, no, we still have at least eighty departments to visit.”
Kathleen couldn’t help glancing at Devon, who was trying, without success, to stifle a grin. It was the first time she had seen him truly smile in days.
Enthusiastically the girls lugged the baskets to her and began to set objects on the counter in an unwieldy pile…perfumed soaps, powders, pomades, stockings, books, new corset laces and racks of hairpins, artificial flowers, tins of biscuits, licorice pastilles and barley sweets, a metal mesh tea infuser, hosiery tucked in little netted bags, a set of drawing pencils, and a tiny glass bottle filled with bright red liquid.
“What is this?” Kathleen asked, picking up the bottle and viewing it suspiciously.
“It’s a beautifier,” Pandora said.
“Bloom of Rose,” Cassandra chimed in.
Kathleen gasped as she realized what it was. “It’s rouge.” She had never even held a container of rouge before. Setting it on the counter, she said firmly, “No.”
“But Kathleen--”
“No to rouge,” she said, “now and for all time.”
“We need to enhance our complexions,” Pandora protested.
“It won’t do any harm,” Cassandra chimed in. “The bottle says that Bloom of Rose is ‘delicate and inoffensive’…It’s written right there, you see?”
“The comments you would receive if you wore rouge in public would assuredly not be delicate or inoffensive. People would assume you were a fallen woman. Or worse, an actress.”
Pandora turned to Devon. “Lord Trenear, what do you think?”
“This is one of those times when it’s best for a man to avoid thinking altogether,” he said hastily. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
851:In the cage is the lion. She paces with her memories. Her body is a record of her past. As she moves back and forth, one may see it all: the lean frame, the muscular legs, the paw enclosing long sharp claws, the astonishing speed of her response. She was born in this garden. She has never in her life stretched those legs. Never darted farther than twenty yards at a time. Only once did she use her claws. Only once did she feel them sink into flesh. And it was her keeper's flesh. Her keeper whom she loves, who feeds her, who would never dream of harming her, who protects her. Who in his mercy forgave her mad attack, saying this was in her nature, to be cruel at a whim, to try to kill what she loves. He had come into her cage as he usually did early in the morning to change her water, always at the same time of day, in the same manner, speaking softly to her, careful to make no sudden movement, keeping his distance, when suddenly she sank down, deep down into herself, the way wild animals do before they spring, and then she had risen on all her strong legs, and swiped him in one long, powerful, graceful movement across the arm. How lucky for her he survived the blow. The keeper and his friends shot her with a gun to make her sleep. Through her half-open lids she knew they made movements around her. They fed her with tubes. They observed her. They wrote comments in notebooks. And finally they rendered a judgment. She was normal. She was a normal wild beast, whose power is dangerous, whose anger can kill, they had said. Be more careful of her, they advised. Allow her less excitement. Perhaps let her exercise more. She understood none of this. She understood only the look of fear in her keeper's eyes. And now she paces. Paces as if she were angry, as if she were on the edge of frenzy. The spectators imagine she is going through the movements of the hunt, or that she is readying her body for survival. But she knows no life outside the garden. She has no notion of anger over what she could have been, or might be. No idea of rebellion.

It is only her body that knows of these things, moving her, daily, hourly, back and forth, back and forth, before the bars of her cage. ~ Susan Griffin,
852:United States is committed to protecting privacy. It is an element of individual dignity and an aspect of participation in democratic society. To an increasing extent, privacy protections have become critical to the information-based economy. Stronger consumer data privacy protections will buttress the trust that is necessary to promote the full economic, social, and political uses of networked technologies. The increasing quantities of personal data that these technologies subject to collection, use, and disclosure have fueled innovation and significant social benefits. We can preserve these benefits while also ensuring that our consumer data privacy policy better reflects the value that Americans place on privacy and bolsters trust in the Internet and other networked technologies. The framework set forth in the preceding pages provides a way to achieve these goals. The Consumer Privacy Bill of Rights should be the legal baseline that governs consumer data privacy in the United States. The Administration will work with Congress to bring this about, but it will also work with privatesector stakeholders to adopt the Consumer Privacy Bill of Rights in the absence of legislation. To encourage adoption, the Department of Commerce will convene multistakeholder processes to encourage the development of enforceable, context-specific codes of conduct. The United States Government will engage with our international partners to increase the interoperability of our respective consumer data privacy frameworks. Federal agencies will continue to develop innovative privacy-protecting programs and guidance as well as enforce the broad array of existing Federal laws that protect consumer privacy. A cornerstone of this framework is its call for the ongoing participation of private-sector stakeholders. The views that companies, civil society, academics, and advocates provided to the Administration through written comments, public symposia, and informal discussions have been invaluable in shaping this framework. Implementing it, and making progress toward consumer data privacy protections that support a more trustworthy networked world, will require all of us to continue to work together★ 45 ★ ~ Anonymous,
853:Chelsea, of course, was the first one to speak up. “Okay, am I the only one who noticed how gi-mungous Mimi Nichols’s dress makes her ass look? Of course, you can barely notice it since her freakishly giant boobs are practically hanging out the top of it.” Chelsea glanced at Jules and grinned. “No offense, of course,” she offered, raising her eyebrows at Jules’s chest.
Claire giggled, and Jules wrinkled up her face in disgust at Chelsea’s teasing barb. “You’re just jealous,” she retorted, eyeing Chelsea’s chest in return.
“Touche, Jules. Touche!” Chelsea admitted.
Claire wanted so badly to join in on the catty conversation, but she was terrible at finding other people’s flaws . . . at least intentionally. Still, she gave it her best shot. “And what about Jennifer Cummings?” she asked accusingly, trying to mimic one of Chelsea’s cutting looks.
They looked around at one another, wondering what it was that they weren’t getting. Chelsea was the only one brave enough to ask, “What about her, Claire?”
“She does not even look kind of cute!” Claire stated, her face a mask of mock horror.
They all stared at her, not sure what to say.
And then once again, of course, it was Chelsea who broke the stunned silence. “I swear, Claire-bear, I am going to call your mom and tell her you need to start riding the short bus. You really need to start practicing your bitchy comments. What are you gonna do when we’re not here to get your back?”
Claire rolled her eyes, too oblivious to be insulted, which was why she was the perfect friends for Chelsea, who was too insulting to be obvious. “Geez, Chels, I don’t even ride the bus.”
Jules couldn’t help herself; despite her best efforts to hold on to her detached cool, she started laughing. And pretty soon they were all laughing, even Claire, who still didn’t realize what they were laughing at.
“You guys are so mean!” Violet charged accusingly. “Can’t you just have fun and stop picking everyone part?”
Chelsea looked disgusted. “You’ve gone soft, haven’t you? Jay has made you soft!”
Violet rolled her eyes, smiling despite her best efforts. “Whatever. Everyone’s soft compared to you.”
“Ouch!” Chelsea pretended to be wounded. But again, she just couldn’t pull it off. ~ Kimberly Derting,
854:In one of his essays William Placher comments on a time when the theological use of the Bible presupposed a deep knowledge of what the Bible says.1 The example he serves up is from the final pages of Calvin’s Institutes, where the Reformer thinks through the issue of what Christians should do if they find themselves under a wicked ruler. Placher notes that Calvin reflects on Daniel and Ezekiel regarding the need to obey even bad rulers; he weighs the command to serve the king of Babylon in Jeremiah 27. He quotes from the Psalms, and he cites Isaiah to the effect that the faithful are urged to trust in God to overcome the unrighteous. On the other hand, he evenhandedly notes episodes in Exodus and Judges “where people serve God by overthrowing the evil rulers,” and texts in 1 Kings and Hosea where God’s people are criticized for being obedient to wicked kings. He cites Peter’s conclusion before Gamaliel, according to Acts: “We must obey God rather than men” (Acts 5:29). From these and other biblical passages, he proceeds to weave nuanced conclusions. We should disobey what governement mandates if it violates our religious obligations. By contrast, Christians should not normally go around starting revolutions. But those who are in positions of authority should deploy that authority to deal with those who exploit others. Even violent revolutionaries may in mysterious ways perform the will of God, though of course they may be called to judgment on account of their evil. Placher then comments: My point is not to defend all of Calvin’s conclusions, or even all of his method, but simply to illustrate how immersion in biblical texts can produce a very complex way of reflecting within a framework of biblical authority, compared to which most contemporary examples look pretty simple-minded. We can’t “appeal to the Bible” in a way that’s either helpful or faithful without beginning to do theology. Theology begins to put together a way of looking as a Christian at the world in all its variety, a language that we share as Christians and that provides a context rich enough for discussing the complexities of our lives. Absent such a shared framework, we can quote passages at each other, but the only contexts in which we can operate come from the discourses of politics and popular culture.2 ~ D A Carson,
855:the challenges of our day-to-day existence are sustained reminders that our life of faith simply must have its center somewhere other than in our ability to hold it together in our minds. Life is a pounding surf that wears away our rock-solid certainty. The surf always wins. Slowly but surely. Eventually. It may be best to ride the waves rather than resist them. What are your one or two biggest obstacles to staying Christian? What are those roadblocks you keep running into? What are those issues that won’t go away and make you wonder why you keep on believing at all? These are questions I asked on a survey I gave on my blog in the summer of 2013. Nothing fancy. I just asked some questions and waited to see what would happen. In the days to come, I was overwhelmed with comments and e-mails from readers, many anonymous, with bracingly honest answers often expressed through the tears of relentless and unnerving personal suffering. I didn’t do a statistical analysis (who has the time, plus I don’t know how), but the responses fell into five categories.         1.        The Bible portrays God as violent, reactive, vengeful, bloodthirsty, immoral, mean, and petty.         2.        The Bible and science collide on too many things to think that the Bible has anything to say to us today about the big questions of life.         3.        In the face of injustice and heinous suffering in the world, God seems disinterested or perhaps unable to do anything about it.         4.        In our ever-shrinking world, it is very difficult to hold on to any notion that Christianity is the only path to God.         5.        Christians treat each other so badly and in such harmful ways that it calls into question the validity of Christianity—or even whether God exists. These five categories struck me as exactly right—at least, they match up with my experience. And I’d bet good money they resonate with a lot of us. All five categories have one big thing in common: “Faith in God no longer makes sense to me.” Understanding, correct thinking, knowing what you believe—these were once true of their faith, but no longer are. Because life happened. A faith that promises to provide firm answers and relieve our doubt is a faith that will not hold up to the challenges and tragedies of life. Only deep trust can hold up. ~ Peter Enns,
856:Energy is the basis of creating electricity that we can utilize, so how can we harness the power of an earthquake? Obviously, today, if that much energy were being drawn from the Earth through the Great Pyramid, tourists would not be parading through it every day. In order for the system to work, the pyramid would need to be mechanically coupled with the Earth and vibrating in sympathy with it. To do this, the system would need to be "primed"—we would need to initiate oscillation of the pyramid before we could tap into the Earth's oscillations. After the initial priming pulse, though, the pyramid would be coupled with the Earth and could draw off its energy. In effect, the Great Pyramid would feed into the Earth a little energy and receive an enormous amount out of it in return.
How do we cause a mass of stone that weighs 5,273,834 tons to oscillate? It would seem an impossible task. Yet there was a man in recent history who claimed he could do just that! Nikola Tesla, a physicist and inventor with more than six hundred patents to his credit—one of them being the AC generator—created a device he called an "earthquake machine." By applying vibration at the resonant frequency of a building, he claimed he could shake the building apart. In fact, it is reported that he had to turn his machine off before the building he was testing it in came down around him.
[...]
The New York World-Telegram reported Tesla's comments from a news briefing at the hotel New Yorker on July 11, 1935: 'I was experimenting with vibrations. I had one of my machines going and I wanted to see if I could get it in tune with the vibration of the building. I put it up notch after notch. There was a peculiar cracking sound. I asked my assistants where did the sound come from. They did not know. I put the machine up a few more notches. There was a louder cracking sound. I knew I was approaching the vibration of the steel building. I pushed the machine a little higher. Suddenly, all the heavy machinery in the place was flying around. I grabbed a hammer and broke the machine. The building would have been about our ears in another few minutes. Outside in the street there was pandemonium. The police and ambulances arrived. I told my assistants to say nothing. We told the police it must have been an earthquake. That's all they ever knew about it. ~ Christopher Dunn,
857:As we gain an understanding of what's going on internally, we need to apply that same kind of awareness and understanding to others and to the environment around us. I've done ongoing research on the experiences of North Americans who volunteer overseas for one or two weeks. Most of these volunteers travel to developing countries where they help with disaster relief, build medical clinics, teach English, or engage in religious mission work. Of all the comments made by these North American travelers, the most common statement made upon their return is something like, “Even though those people have so little, they're so happy!” There's something endearing about hearing a group of relatively wealthy North Americans talk about their amazement that people with so little could be so happy. My question is, are the people they observed really happy? I've asked several hundred of these volunteers, “What makes you think they're happy?” They most often respond, “Because they were always smiling and laughing. And they were so generous to us. They fed us better than they eat themselves.” Part of becoming more aware of others requires we slow down to ask what familiar behaviors might mean in a different culture. The observation made by these American travelers is usually accurate—the locals they're meeting are in fact smiling and generous. But the question is whether the North Americans are accurately interpreting what those behaviors mean. First, if you don't speak the language and you're just meeting someone for the first time, what do you do? After some feeble attempts at saying things like “Hola!” “Gross Got!” or “Nee how!” there's often some nervous laughter that ensues. It's really awkward. So the locals might be expressing happiness or their smiles might just be a nervous response. Then add that in places like Thailand, where there are twenty-three different smiles, each smile communicates something different. And in one small, extremely polite community in New Zealand, smiling reactions are a way of expressing that they feel deeply offended.4 As I've consistently said, the point isn't to learn every nuanced meaning. But with heightened awareness of others, an individual will realize that while smiles might reflect genuine happiness, they just as well might be a nervous cross-cultural response that indicates little about one's level of contentment. ~ David Livermore,
858:Let's have a bet, then. If I'm right, you kiss me," he says.
"And if I'm right?"
"Name it."
It's like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy's ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I'm all too happy to be the one to do it. "If I win you take me and the class project seriously," I tell him. "No teasing me, no making ridiculous comments."
"Deal. I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I have a photographic memory."
"Alex, I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I copied the info straight from the book." I look at the research I'd done, then flip open to the corresponding page in my chem book. "Without looking, what does it need to be cooled at?" I ask.
Alex is a guy who thrives on challenges. But this time the tough guy is going to lose. He closes his own book and stares at me, his jaw set. "Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy," he answers confidently.
I scan the page, then my notes. Then back at the page again. I can't be wrong. Which page did I- "Oh, yeah. One hundred degrees." I look up at him in complete shock. "You're right."
"You gonna kiss me now, or later?"
"Right now," I say, which I can tell shocks him because his hands go still. At home, my life is dictated by my mom and dad. At school, it's different. I need to keep it that way, because if I have no control in every aspect of my life I might as well be a mannequin.
"Really?" he asks.
"Yeah." I take one of his hands in mine. I'd never be this bold if we had an audience, and am thankful for the privacy of the nonfiction titles surrounding us. His breathing slows as I sit up on my knees and lean into him. I'm ignoring the fact that his fingers are long and rough and that I've never actually touched him before. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be, though. I'm the one in control this time.
I can feel him restraining himself. He's letting me make the move, which is a good thing. I'm afraid of what this boy would do if he let loose.
I place his hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear him groan. I want to smile because his reaction proves I have the power.
He's unmoving as our eyes meet.
Time stops again.
Then I turn my head into his hand and kiss the inside of his palm.
"There, I kissed you," I say, giving him back his hand and ending the game.
Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo. ~ Simone Elkeles,
859:Let’s have a bet, then. If I’m right, you kiss me,” he says.
“And if I’m right?”
“Name it.”
It’s like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy’s ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I’m all too happy to be the one to do it. “If I win you take me and the class project seriously,” I tell him. “No teasing me, no making ridiculous comments.”
“Deal. I’d feel terrible if I didn’t tell you I have a photographic memory.”
“Alex, I’d feel terrible if I didn’t tell you I copied the info straight from the book.” I look at the research I’d done, then flip open to the corresponding page in my chem book. “Without looking, what does it need to be cooled at?” I ask.
Alex is a guy who thrives on challenges. But this time the tough guy is going to lose. He closes his own book and stares at me, his jaw set. “Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy,” he answers confidently.
I scan the page, then my notes. Then back at the page again. I can’t be wrong. Which page did I--“Oh, yeah. One hundred degrees.” I look up at him in complete shock. “You’re right.”
“You gonna kiss me now, or later?”
“Right now,” I say, which I can tell shocks him because his hands go still. At home, my life is dictated by my mom and dad. At school, it’s different. I need to keep it that way, because if I have no control in every aspect of my life I might as well be a mannequin.
“Really?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I take one of his hands in mine. I’d never be this bold if we had an audience, and am thankful for the privacy of the nonfiction titles surrounding us. His breathing slows as I sit up on my knees and lean into him. I’m ignoring the fact that his fingers are long and rough and that I’ve never actually touched him before. I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, though. I’m the one in control this time.
I can feel him restraining himself. He’s letting me make the move, which is a good thing. I’m afraid of what this boy would do if he let loose.
I place his hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear him groan. I want to smile because his reaction proves I have the power.
He’s unmoving as our eyes meet.
Time stops again.
Then I turn my head into his hand and kiss the inside of his palm.
“There, I kissed you,” I say, giving him back his hand and ending the game.
Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo. ~ Simone Elkeles,
860:Volume 9 | ISSN: 1523-4320 Figure 1.Students’ Confidence at the Start of the Assignment It is clear that most students did not feel confident about writing the assignment, with the majority of students stating that they were not sure if they could write a good assignment. Only one student was very confident and stated that this was “Because I play the instrument I used. ” Students who were quite confident based this confidence on aspects, such as the amount of information they had or had access to, with such comments as “Because I had enough notes to write with and a whole load of information at home” and “In our research I felt I had gathered enough information to write quite a good assignment”; and their familiarity with the subject with comments such as “I felt confident because I was familiar with dolphins and their habitat and background info” and “I felt like this because I play an instrument that is in the same family and so I knew some information. ” Students who were not sure if they could write a good assignment identified aspects such as unfamiliarity with the subject with comments such as “Because I didn’t know anything about dolphins so that I wasn’t quite confident” and “Because I didn’t know anything about the trumpet whatsoever”; the size of the assignment with comments such as “I didn’t think I could write 800 words about a guitar” and “I thought 800 words was a bit much but in the end I wrote over 800 words”; and concern about the subject with such comments as “I can write essays and things. I’m just not good at the subject of physics” and “I’m not very good at physics and thought I wouldn’t understand. ” Students who indicated that they did not think that they could write a good assignment displayed a lack of confidence in themselves with such comments as “Because I am not a very confident person” and “I wasn’t confident and didn’t want to do it. ” These findings reflect those of Kuhlthau (2004) whose research identified that students often exhibited feelings of anxiety or lack of confidence at the beginning of the assignment process. There are alternative ways of examining the implications of these findings. It may be natural that students, faced with an assignment on a subject which is unfamiliar to them, will inevitably show lack of confidence and that the information literacy guidance provided will dilute this lack of confidence as students become familiar with their subject. It may also be ~ Anonymous,
861:The traffic increased when I reached the village, and when I walked into the market square I saw a large crowd gathered at one end. For a few moments I stood uncertainly, wondering whether I ought to leave or find out what the crowd was gathered for.
Suddenly they parted, and without warning two soldiers in brown and green rode side by side straight at me. Dropping my gaze to my dusty feet, I pressed back with the rest of the people on the road near me, and listened with intense relief as their horses cantered by without pausing.
The decision as to whether I should try to find out what was going on was settled for me when the crowd around me surged forward, and a man somewhere behind me called, “Hi, there! Molk! What’s toward?”
“Search,” a tall, bearded man said, turning. Around me people muttered questions and comments as he added, “That Countess causing all the problems up-mountain. Milord Commander Debegri has taken over the search, and he thinks she might end up this far south.”
“Reward?” a woman’s shrill voice called from somewhere to the left.
“Promised sixty in pure gold.”
“Where from?” someone else yelled. “If it’s Debegri, I wouldn’t count no gold ‘less I had it in hand, and then I’d test it.”
This caused a brief, loud uproar of reaction, then the bearded man bellowed, “The King! Sixty for information that proves true. Double that for a body. Preferably alive, though they don’t say by how much.”
Some laughed, but there was an undertone of shock from others.
Then: “What’s she look like, and is she with anyone?”
“Might be on a brown mare. Filthy clothes, looks like a human rat, apparently. No hat. Dressed like a dockside beggar.”
“That’s some help.” Another woman laughed. “I take it we look for whiskers and a long tail?”
“Short, scrawny, brown hair, long--very long. Blue eyes. Bandaged left leg, got caught in a steel trap. Probably limping if not mounted.”
Limping. I looked down, wondering if any of the people pressed around me had been watching me walk.
Time to move on. Now, I thought, and I took a step sideways, then backward, easing my way out of the crowd. I didn’t hear all of the next shouted question, but the answer was clear enough: “Commander Debegri said that if anyone is caught harboring or aiding the fugitive, it means death.”
One step, two: I turned and walked away, forcing myself to keep an even pace, as my heart thumped like a drum right under my ears. ~ Sherwood Smith,
862:The photographer was taking pictures with a small pocket camera but the sergeant sent him back to the car for his big Bertillon camera. Grave Digger and Coffin Ed left the cellar to look around. The apartment was only one room wide but four storeys high. The front was flush with the sidewalk, and the front entrance elevated by two recessed steps. The alleyway at the side slanted down from the sidewalk sufficiently to drop the level of the door six feet below the ground-floor level. The cellar, which could only be entered by the door at the side, was directly below the ground-floor rooms. There were no apartments. Each of the four floors had three bedrooms opening on to the public hall, and to the rear was a kitchen and a bath and a separate toilet to serve each floor. There were three tenants on each floor, their doors secured by hasps and staples to be padlocked when they were absent, bolts and chains and floor locks and angle bars to protect them from intruders when they were present. The doors were pitted and scarred either because of lost keys or attempted burglary, indicating a continuous warfare between the residents and enemies from without, rapists, robbers, homicidal husbands and lovers, or the landlord after his rent. The walls were covered with obscene graffiti, mammoth sexual organs, vulgar limericks, opened legs, telephone numbers, outright boasting, insidious suggestions, and impertinent or pertinent comments about various tenants’ love habits, their mothers and fathers, the legitimacy of their children. “And people live here,” Grave Digger said, his eyes sad. “That’s what it was made for.” “Like maggots in rotten meat.” “It’s rotten enough.” Twelve mailboxes were nailed to the wall in the front hall. Narrow stairs climbed to the top floor. The ground-floor hallway ran through a small back courtyard where four overflowing garbage cans leaned against the wall. “Anybody can come in here day or night,” Grave Digger said. “Good for the whores but hard on the children.” “I wouldn’t want to live here if I had any enemies,” Coffin Ed said. “I’d be scared to go to the john.” “Yeah, but you’d have central heating.” “Personally, I’d rather live in the cellar. It’s private with its own private entrance and I could control the heat.” “But you’d have to put out the garbage cans,” Grave Digger said. “Whoever occupied that whore’s crib ain’t been putting out any garbage cans.” “Well, let’s wake up the brothers on the ground floor.” “If they ain’t already awake. ~ Chester Himes,
863:Did he say anything to you?”
“Just that I was supposed to watch you while he was gone. A hunt can take several days.”
“Really? I had no idea it would take that long.” I hestitated, “So…he doesn’t mind you staying here while he’s gone.”
“Oh, he minds,” he chuckled, “but he wants to make sure you’re safe. At least he trusts me that much.”
“Well, I think he’s mad at both of us right now.”
Kishan looked at me curiously with a raised eyebrow. “How so?”
“Um…let’s just say we had a misunderstanding.”
Kishan’s face turned hard. “Don’t worry, Kelsey. I’m sure that whatever he’s upset about is foolish. He’s very argumentative.”
I sighed and shook my head sadly. “No, it’s really all my fault. I’m difficult, a hindrance, and I’m a pain to have around sometimes. He’s probably used to being around sophisticated, more experienced women who are much more…more…well, more than I am.”
Kishan quirked an eyebrow. “Ren hasn’t been around any women as far as I know. I must confess that I’m now exceedingly curious as to what your argument was about. Whether you tell me or not, I won’t tolerate any more derogatory comments about yourself. He’s lucky to have you, and he’d better realize it.”
He grinned. “Of course, if you did have a falling out, you’re always welcome to stay with me.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really want to live in the jungle.”
He laughed. “For you, I would even consider a change of residence. You, my lovely, are a prize worth fighting for.”
I laughed and punched him lightly on the arm. “You, sir, are a major flirt. Worth fighting for? I think you two have been tigers for too long. I’m no great beauty, especially when I’m stuck out here in the jungle. I haven’t even picked a college major yet. What have I ever done that would make someone want to fight over me?”
Kishan apparently took my rhetorical questions seriously. He reflected for a moment, and then answered, “For one thing, I’ve never met a woman so dedicated to helping others. You put your own life at risk for a person you met only a few weeks ago. You are confident, feisty, intelligent, and full of empathy. I find you charming and, yes, beautiful.”
The golden-eyed prince fingered a strand of my hair. I blushed at his assessment, sipped my water, and then said softly, “I don’t like him being angry with me.”
Kishan shrugged and dropped his hand, looking slightly annoyed that I’d steered the conversation back to Ren. “Yes. I’ve been on the receiving side of his anger, and I’ve learned not to underestimate his ability to hold a grudge. ~ Colleen Houck,
864:1

You said ‘The world is going back to Paganism’.
Oh bright Vision! I saw our dynasty in the bar of the House
Spill from their tumblers a libation to the Erinyes,
And Leavis with Lord Russell wreathed in flowers, heralded with flutes,
Leading white bulls to the cathedral of the solemn Muses
To pay where due the glory of their latest theorem.
Hestia’s fire in every flat, rekindled, burned before
The Lardergods. Unmarried daughters with obedient hands
Tended it. By the hearth the white-armd venerable mother
Domum servabat, lanam faciebat. At the hour
Of sacrifice their brothers came, silent, corrected, grave
Before their elders; on their downy cheeks easily the blush
Arose (it is the mark of freemen’s children) as they trooped,
Gleaming with oil, demurely home from the palaestra or the dance.
Walk carefully, do not wake the envy of the happy gods,
Shun Hubris. The middle of the road, the middle sort of men,
Are best. Aidos surpasses gold. Reverence for the aged
Is wholesome as seasonable rain, and for a man to die
Defending the city in battle is a harmonious thing.
Thus with magistral hand the Puritan Sophrosune
Cooled and schooled and tempered our uneasy motions;
Heathendom came again, the circumspection and the holy fears …
You said it. Did you mean it? Oh inordinate liar, stop.

2

Or did you mean another kind of heathenry?
Think, then, that under heaven-roof the little disc of the earth,
Fortified Midgard, lies encircled by the ravening Worm.
Over its icy bastions faces of giant and troll
Look in, ready to invade it. The Wolf, admittedly, is bound;
But the bond wil1 break, the Beast run free. The weary gods,
Scarred with old wounds the one-eyed Odin, Tyr who has lost a hand,
Will limp to their stations for the Last defence. Make it your hope
To be counted worthy on that day to stand beside them;
For the end of man is to partake of their defeat and die
His second, final death in good company. The stupid, strong
Unteachable monsters are certain to be victorious at last,
And every man of decent blood is on the losing side.
Take as your model the tall women with yellow hair in plaits
Who walked back into burning houses to die with men,
Or him who as the death spear entered into his vitals
Made critical comments on its workmanship and aim.
Are these the Pagans you spoke of? Know your betters and crouch, dogs;
You that have Vichy water in your veins and worship the event
Your goddess History (whom your fathers called the strumpet Fortune). ~ C S Lewis,
865:In our family, we live by the Hard Thing Rule. It has three parts. The first is that everyone—including Mom and Dad—has to do a hard thing. A hard thing is something that requires daily deliberate practice. I’ve told my kids that psychological research is my hard thing, but I also practice yoga. Dad tries to get better and better at being a real estate developer; he does the same with running. My oldest daughter, Amanda, has chosen playing the piano as her hard thing. She did ballet for years, but later quit. So did Lucy. This brings me to the second part of the Hard Thing Rule: You can quit. But you can’t quit until the season is over, the tuition payment is up, or some other “natural” stopping point has arrived. You must, at least for the interval to which you’ve committed yourself, finish whatever you begin. In other words, you can’t quit on a day when your teacher yells at you, or you lose a race, or you have to miss a sleepover because of a recital the next morning. You can’t quit on a bad day. And, finally, the Hard Thing Rule states that you get to pick your hard thing. Nobody picks it for you because, after all, it would make no sense to do a hard thing you’re not even vaguely interested in. Even the decision to try ballet came after a discussion of various other classes my daughters could have chosen instead. Lucy, in fact, cycled through a half-dozen hard things. She started each with enthusiasm but eventually discovered that she didn’t want to keep going with ballet, gymnastics, track, handicrafts, or piano. In the end, she landed on viola. She’s been at it for three years, during which time her interest has waxed rather than waned. Last year, she joined the school and all-city orchestras, and when I asked her recently if she wanted to switch her hard thing to something else, she looked at me like I was crazy. Next year, Amanda will be in high school. Her sister will follow the year after. At that point, the Hard Thing Rule will change. A fourth requirement will be added: each girl must commit to at least one activity, either something new or the piano and viola they’ve already started, for at least two years. Tyrannical? I don’t believe it is. And if Lucy’s and Amanda’s recent comments on the topic aren’t disguised apple-polishing, neither do my daughters. They’d like to grow grittier as they get older, and, like any skill, they know grit takes practice. They know they’re fortunate to have the opportunity to do so. For parents who would like to encourage grit without obliterating their children’s capacity to choose their own path, I recommend the Hard Thing Rule. ~ Angela Duckworth,
866:FREEING YOURSELF FROM YOUR MIND What exactly do you mean by “watching the thinker”? When someone goes to the doctor and says, “I hear a voice in my head,” he or she will most likely be sent to a psychiatrist. The fact is that, in a very similar way, virtually everyone hears a voice, or several voices, in their head all the time: the involuntary thought processes that you don’t realize you have the power to stop. Continuous monologues or dialogues. You have probably come across “mad” people in the street incessantly talking or muttering to themselves. Well, that’s not much different from what you and all other “normal” people do, except that you don’t do it out loud. The voice comments, speculates, judges, compares, complains, likes, dislikes, and so on. The voice isn’t necessarily relevant to the situation you find yourself in at the time; it may be reviving the recent or distant past or rehearsing or imagining possible future situations. Here it often imagines things going wrong and negative outcomes; this is called worry. Sometimes this soundtrack is accompanied by visual images or “mental movies.” Even if the voice is relevant to the situation at hand, it will interpret it in terms of the past. This is because the voice belongs to your conditioned mind, which is the result of all your past history as well as of the collective cultural mind-set you inherited. So you see and judge the present through the eyes of the past and get a totally distorted view of it. It is not uncommon for the voice to be a person’s own worst enemy. Many people live with a tormentor in their head that continuously attacks and punishes them and drains them of vital energy. It is the cause of untold misery and unhappiness, as well as of disease. The good news is that you can free yourself from your mind. This is the only true liberation. You can take the first step right now. Start listening to the voice in your head as often as you can. Pay particular attention to any repetitive thought patterns, those old gramophone records that have been playing in your head perhaps for many years. This is what I mean by “watching the thinker,” which is another way of saying: listen to the voice in your head, be there as the witnessing presence. When you listen to that voice, listen to it impartially. That is to say, do not judge. Do not judge or condemn what you hear, for doing so would mean that the same voice has come in again through the back door. You’ll soon realize: there is the voice, and here I am listening to it, watching it. This I am realization, this sense of your own presence, is not a thought. It arises from beyond the mind. ~ Eckhart Tolle,
867:Cliche Came Out Of Its Cage
You said 'The world is going back to Paganism'.
Oh bright Vision! I saw our dynasty in the bar of the House
Spill from their tumblers a libation to the Erinyes,
And Leavis with Lord Russell wreathed in flowers, heralded with flutes,
Leading white bulls to the cathedral of the solemn Muses
To pay where due the glory of their latest theorem.
Hestia's fire in every flat, rekindled, burned before
The Lardergods. Unmarried daughters with obedient hands
Tended it By the hearth the white-armd venerable mother
Domum servabat, lanam faciebat. at the hour
Of sacrifice their brothers came, silent, corrected, grave
Before their elders; on their downy cheeks easily the blush
Arose (it is the mark of freemen's children) as they trooped,
Gleaming with oil, demurely home from the palaestra or the dance.
Walk carefully, do not wake the envy of the happy gods,
Shun Hubris. The middle of the road, the middle sort of men,
Are best. Aidos surpasses gold. Reverence for the aged
Is wholesome as seasonable rain, and for a man to die
Defending the city in battle is a harmonious thing.
Thus with magistral hand the Puritan Sophrosune
Cooled and schooled and tempered our uneasy motions;
Heathendom came again, the circumspection and the holy fears ...
You said it. Did you mean it? Oh inordinate liar, stop.
Or did you mean another kind of heathenry?
Think, then, that under heaven-roof the little disc of the earth,
Fortified Midgard, lies encircled by the ravening Worm.
Over its icy bastions faces of giant and troll
Look in, ready to invade it. The Wolf, admittedly, is bound;
But the bond wil1 break, the Beast run free. The weary gods,
Scarred with old wounds the one-eyed Odin, Tyr who has lost a hand,
Will limp to their stations for the Last defence. Make it your hope
To be counted worthy on that day to stand beside them;
For the end of man is to partake of their defeat and die
His second, final death in good company. The stupid, strong
24
Unteachable monsters are certain to be victorious at last,
And every man of decent blood is on the losing side.
Take as your model the tall women with yellow hair in plaits
Who walked back into burning houses to die with men,
Or him who as the death spear entered into his vitals
Made critical comments on its workmanship and aim.
Are these the Pagans you spoke of? Know your betters and crouch, dogs;
You that have Vichy water in your veins and worship the event
Your goddess History (whom your fathers called the strumpet Fortune).
~ Clive Staples Lewis,
868:Marginalia

Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.

Other comments are more offhand, dismissive -
Nonsense." "Please!" "HA!!" -
that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
who wrote "Don't be a ninny"
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.

Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls "Metaphor" next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of "Irony"
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.

Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
Absolutely," they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
Yes." "Bull's-eye." "My man!"
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.

And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written "Man vs. Nature"
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.

We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.

Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird singing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their page-
anonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.

And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.

Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page

A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencil-
by a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet-
Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love. ~ Billy Collins,
869:Marginalia
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
If I could just get my hands on you,
Kierkegaard, or Conor Cruise O'Brien,
they seem to say,
I would bolt the door and beat some logic into your head.
Other comments are more offhand, dismissive 'Nonsense.' 'Please! ' 'HA! ! ' that kind of thing.
I remember once looking up from my reading,
my thumb as a bookmark,
trying to imagine what the person must look like
why wrote 'Don't be a ninny'
alongside a paragraph in The Life of Emily Dickinson.
Students are more modest
needing to leave only their splayed footprints
along the shore of the page.
One scrawls 'Metaphor' next to a stanza of Eliot's.
Another notes the presence of 'Irony'
fifty times outside the paragraphs of A Modest Proposal.
Or they are fans who cheer from the empty bleachers,
Hands cupped around their mouths.
'Absolutely,' they shout
to Duns Scotus and James Baldwin.
'Yes.' 'Bull's-eye.' 'My man! '
Check marks, asterisks, and exclamation points
rain down along the sidelines.
And if you have managed to graduate from college
without ever having written 'Man vs. Nature'
in a margin, perhaps now
is the time to take one step forward.
We have all seized the white perimeter as our own
36
and reached for a pen if only to show
we did not just laze in an armchair turning pages;
we pressed a thought into the wayside,
planted an impression along the verge.
Even Irish monks in their cold scriptoria
jotted along the borders of the Gospels
brief asides about the pains of copying,
a bird signing near their window,
or the sunlight that illuminated their pageanonymous men catching a ride into the future
on a vessel more lasting than themselves.
And you have not read Joshua Reynolds,
they say, until you have read him
enwreathed with Blake's furious scribbling.
Yet the one I think of most often,
the one that dangles from me like a locket,
was written in the copy of Catcher in the Rye
I borrowed from the local library
one slow, hot summer.
I was just beginning high school then,
reading books on a davenport in my parents' living room,
and I cannot tell you
how vastly my loneliness was deepened,
how poignant and amplified the world before me seemed,
when I found on one page
A few greasy looking smears
and next to them, written in soft pencilby a beautiful girl, I could tell,
whom I would never meet'Pardon the egg salad stains, but I'm in love.'
~ Billy Collins,
870:What happened to your face, sir?” Rose answered before he did, with the pride of a child who was delivering news of great significance. “Mr. Bronson ran into a left hook again, Mama. He was fighting. And he brought this to me.” She pulled the end of her button string from her large apron pocket and climbed into Holly's lap to display her newest acquisition. Cuddling her daughter, Holly examined the button carefully. It was fashioned of a huge sparkling diamond encased in rich yellow gold. Bewildered, she glanced at Elizabeth's rueful face, and Paula's tight-lipped one, before finally staring into Bronson's enigmatic black eyes. “You shouldn't have given Rose such a costly object, Mr. Bronson. Whose button is it? And why were you fighting?” “I had a disagreement with someone in my club.” “Over money?… Over a woman?…” Bronson's expression revealed nothing, and he gave an indifferent shrug, as if the matter were of no importance. Considering various possibilities, Holly continued to stare at him in the tense silence that had overtaken the room. Suddenly the answer occurred to her. “Over me?” she whispered. Idly Bronson picked a skein of thread from his sleeve. “Not really.” Holly suddenly discovered that she knew him well enough to discern when he was lying. “Yes, it was,” she said with growing conviction. “Someone must have said something unpleasant, and instead of ignoring the remark, you took up the challenge. Oh, Mr. Bronson, how could you?” Seeing her unhappiness, instead of the grateful admiration he had probably expected, Bronson scowled. “Would you rather I allowed some high-kick b—” He paused to correct himself as he noticed the rapt attention Rose was paying to the conversation. “Some high-kick fellow,” he said, his tone softening a degree, “to spread lies about you? His mouth needed to be shut, and I was able and willing to do it.” “The only way to respond to a distasteful remark is to ignore it,” Holly said crisply. “You did the exact opposite, thereby creating the impression in some people's minds that there may be a grain of truth in it. You should not have fought for my honor. You should have smiled disdainfully at any slight upon it, resting secure in the knowledge that there is nothing dishonorable about our relationship.” “But my lady, I would fight the world for you.” Bronson said it in the way he always made such startling comments, in a tone of such jeering lightness that the listener had no doubt he was being facetious. Elizabeth broke in then, her lips curved in a droll smile. “He'll use any excuse to fight, Lady Holly. My brother enjoys using his fists, primitive male that he is.” “That is an aspect of his character we will have to correct. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
871:The 5 Elements of Effective Thinking (Edward B. Burger;Michael Starbird) - Your Highlight on page 17 | location 251-270 | Added on Monday, 6 April 2015 03:03:56 Understand simple things deeply The most fundamental ideas in any subject can be understood with ever-increasing depth. Professional tennis players watch the ball; mathematicians understand a nuanced notion of number; successful students continue to improve their mastery of the concepts from previous chapters and courses as they move toward the more advanced material on the horizon; successful people regularly focus on the core purpose of their profession or life. True experts continually deepen their mastery of the basics. Trumpeting understanding through a note-worthy lesson. Tony Plog is an internationally acclaimed trumpet virtuoso, composer, and teacher. A few years ago we had the opportunity to observe him conducting a master class for accomplished soloists. During the class, each student played a portion of his or her selected virtuosic piece. They played wonderfully. Tony listened politely and always started his comments, “Very good, very good. That is a challenging piece, isn’t it?” As expected, he proceeded to give the students advice about how the piece could be played more beautifully, offering suggestions about physical technique and musicality. No surprise. But then he shifted gears. He asked the students to play a very easy warm-up exercise that any beginning trumpet player might be given. They played the handful of simple notes, which sounded childish compared to the dramatically fast, high notes from the earlier, more sophisticated pieces. After they played the simple phrase, Tony, for the first time during the lesson, picked up the trumpet. He played that same phrase, but when he played it, it was not childish. It was exquisite. Each note was a rich, delightful sound. He gave the small phrase a delicate shape, revealing a flowing sense of dynamics that enabled us to hear meaning in those simple notes. The students’ attempts did not come close—the contrast was astounding. The fundamental difference between the true master and the talented students clearly occurred at a far more basic level than in the intricacies of complex pieces. Tony explained that mastering an efficient, nuanced performance of simple pieces allows one to play spectacularly difficult pieces with greater control and artistry. The lesson was simple. The master teacher suggested that the advanced students focus more of their time on practicing simple pieces intensely—learning to perform them with technical efficiency and beautiful elegance. Deep work on simple, basic ideas helps to build true virtuosity—not just in music but in everything. ========== ~ Anonymous,
872:What did Kavinsky say about it?” Chris asks me.
“Nothing yet. He’s still at lacrosse practice.”
My phone immediately starts to buzz, and the three of us look at each other, wide-eyed. Margot picks it up and looks at it. “It’s Peter!” She hot-potatoes the phone to me. “Let’s give them some privacy,” she says, nudging Chris. Chris shrugs her off.
I ignore both of them and answer the phone. “Hello.” My voice comes out thin as a reed.
Peter starts talking fast. “Okay, I’ve seen the video, and the first thing I’m going to say to you is don’t freak out.” He’s breathing hard; it sounds like he’s running.
“Don’t freak out? How can I not? This is terrible. Do you know what they’re all saying about me in the comments? That I’m a slut. They think we’re having sex in that video, Peter.”
“Never read the comments, Covey! That’s the first rule of--”
“If you say ‘Fight Club’ to me right now, I will hang up on you.”
“Sorry. Okay, I know it sucks but--”
“It doesn’t ‘suck.’ It’s a literal nightmare. My most private moment, for everybody to see. I’m completely humiliated. The things people are saying--” My voice breaks. Kitty and Margot and Chris are all looking at me with sad eyes, which makes me feel even sadder.
“Don’t cry, Lara Jean. Please don’t cry. I promise you I’m going to fix this. I’m going to get whoever runs Anonybitch to take it down.”
“How? We don’t even know who they are! And besides, I bet our whole school’s seen it by now. Teachers, too. I know for a fact that teachers look at Anonybitch. I was in the faculty lounge once and I overheard Mr. Filipe and Ms. Ryan saying how bad it makes our school look. And what about college admission boards and our future employers?”
Peter guffaws. “Future employers? Covey, I’ve seen much worse. Hell, I’ve seen worse pictures of me on here. Remember that picture of me with my head in a toilet bowl, and I’m naked?”
I shudder. “I never saw that picture. Besides, that’s you; that’s not me. I don’t do that kind of stuff.”
“Just trust me, okay? I promise I’ll take care of it.”
I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. Peter is powerful. If anyone could fix such a thing, it would be him.
“Listen, I’ve gotta go. Coach is gonna kick my ass if he sees me on the phone. I’ll call you tonight, okay? Don’t go to sleep.”
I don’t want to hang up. I wish we could talk longer. “Okay,” I whisper.
When I hang up, Margot, Chris, and Kitty are all three staring at me.
“Well?” Chris says.
“He says he’ll take care of it.”
Smugly Kitty says, “I told you so.”
“What does that even mean, ‘he’ll take care of it’?” Margot asks. “He hasn’t exactly proven himself to be responsible.”
“It’s not his fault,” Kitty and I say at the same time. ~ Jenny Han,
873:Come on, show me what you got” Shelby said throwing a set of gear to wing before pulling on a pair of gloves herself “I'll try not to hurt you too badly”
“how reassuring” Wing said pulling on his gloves he had been giving Shelby hand-to-hand combat training for some time back at H.I.V.E And what she lacked in technique she made up for in speed and cunning. “Bring it” Shelby said with a grin raising both gloves in a defensive stance and beckoning him towards her
“It will be brought” Wing replied. He feinted to her left and she went to block as he simultaneously swung a low blow into her other side, carefully pulling his punch so that he just tapped her.
“Two perhaps three broken ribs” Wing said matter of factly “maintain your guard”
Shelby nodded and took a quick jab at his jaw which wing blocked effortlessly “Try not to look where you are striking you betray your intentions” They went on like that for a couple more minutes just as in their previous sparring sessions Wing noticed that once they began Shelby became totally focused. There were none of this smart comments or sarcasm that she'd normally used - she was suddenly deadly serious.
“Broken job possible unconsciousness” Wing said calmly as he struck her passed her guard stopping his fist millimetres from her chin.
“Oh my God” Shelby gasped suddenly, staring in shock at something over wings shoulder. He spun around, his guard raised. Shelby dropped low swinging her leg out, sweeping Wing's feet out from under him and sending him crashing to the floor.
“Wounded pride, possible humiliation” Shelby said with a grin offering her hand to Wing and pulling him up off the floor. “and so ends today's lesson” she said pulling off her head guard.
“an unconventional tactic” Wing said with a nod, taking off his own helmet. “but a successful one none the less”
“ I kinda like unconventional tactics” Shelby said stepping towards him. “never underestimate the power of surprise” She grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him for a few long seconds.
“what was that about maintaining your guard?” she said with a smile as she pulled away from him.
“sometimes one should let ones guard down” Wing said staring at her for a moment before drawing her towards him and kissed her back. “Er...guys?” a familiar voice said causing Wing and Shelby to spring apart.
“Dr Nero wants you to report to the briefing room” Wing winced slightly as he saw Nigel and Franz standing in the doorway. Nigel was looking pointedly at the floor and Franz was staring at him and Shelby, his mouth hanging open in surprise.
“come on big guy - no rest for the wicked” Shelby said to Wing with a grin, taking his hand and dragging him out of the room past Nigel and the stunned looking Franz. ~ Mark Walden,
874:The truth is,” she said shakily, “that I am scared to death of being here.”
“I know you are,” he said, sobering, “but I am the last person in the world you’ll ever have to fear.”
His words and his tone made the quaking in her limbs, the hammering of her heart, begin again, and Elizabeth hastily drank a liberal amount of her wine, praying it would calm her rioting nerves. As if he saw her distress, he smoothly changed the topic. “Have you given any more thought to the injustice done Galileo?”
She shook her head. “I must have sounded very silly last night, going on about how wrong it was to bring him up before the Inquisition. It was an absurd thing to discuss with anyone, especially a gentleman.”
“I thought it was a refreshing alternative to the usual insipid trivialities.”
“Did you really?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes searching his with a mixture of disbelief and hope, unaware that she was being neatly distracted from her woes and drawn into a discussion she’d find easier.
“I did.”
“I wish society felt that way.”
He grinned sympathetically. “How long have you been required to hide the fact that you have a mind?”
“Four weeks,” she admitted, chuckling at his phrasing. “You cannot imagine how awful it is to mouth platitudes to people when you’re longing to ask them about things they’ve seen and things they know. If they’re male, they wouldn’t tell you, of course, even if you did ask.”
“What would they say?” he teased.
“They would say,” she said wryly, “that the answer would be beyond a female’s comprehension-or that they fear offending my tender sensibilities.”
“What sorts of questions have you been asking?”
Her eyes lit up with a mixture of laughter and frustration. “I asked Sir Elston Greeley, who had just returned from extensive travels, if he had happened to journey to the colonies, and he said that he had. But when I asked him to describe to me how the natives looked and how they lived, he coughed and sputtered and told me it wasn’t at all ‘the thing’ to discuss ‘savages’ with a female, and that I’d swoon if he did.”
“Their appearance and living habits depend upon their tribe,” Ian told her, beginning to answer her questions. “Some of the tribes are ‘savage’ by our standards, not theirs, and some of the tribes are peaceful by any standards…”
Two hours flew by as Elizabeth asked him questions and listened in fascination to stories of places he had seen, and not once in all that time did he refuse to answer or treat her comments lightly. He spoke to her like an equal and seemed to enjoy it whenever she debated an opinion with him. They’d eaten lunch and returned to the sofa; she knew it was past time for her to leave, and yet she was loath to end their stolen afternoon. ~ Judith McNaught,
875:You are the last Five left in the competition, yes? Do you think that hurts your chances of becoming the princess?"
The word sprang from my lips without thought. "No!"
"Oh, my! You do have a spirit there!" Gavril seemed pleased to have gotten such an enthusiastic response. "So you think you'll beat out all the others, then? Make it to the end?"
I thought better of myself. "No, no. It's not like that. I don't think I'm better than any of the other girls; they're all amazing. It's just...I don't think Maxon would do that, just discount someone because of their caste."
I heard a collective gasp. I ran over the sentence in my head. It took me a minute to catch my mistake: I'd called him Maxon. Saying that to another girl behind closed doors was one thing, but to say his name without the word "Prince" in front of it was incredibly informal in public.
And I'd said it on live television.
I looked to see if Maxon was angry. He had a calm smile on his face. So he wasn't mad...but I was embarrassed. I blushed fiercely.
"Ah, so it seems you really have gotten to know our prince. Tell me, what do you think of Maxon?"
I ahd thought of several answers while I was waiting for my turn. I was going to make fun of his laugh or talk about the pet name he wanted his wife to call him. It seemed like the only way to save the situation was to get back the comedy. But as I lifted my eyes to make one of my comments, I saw Maxon's face.
He really wanted to know.
And I couldn't poke fun at him, not when I had a chance to say what I'd really started to think now that he was my friend. I couldn't joke about the person who'd saved me from facing absolute heartbreak at home, who fed my family boxes of sweets, who ran to me worried that I was hurt if I asked for him.
A month ago, I had looked at the TV and seen a stiff, distant, boring person-someone I couldn't imagine anyone loving. And while he wasn't anything close to the person I did love, he was worthy of having someone to love in his life.
"Maxon Schreave is the epitome of all things good. He is going to be a phenomenal king. He lets girls who are supposed to be wearing dresses wear jeans and doesn't get mad when someone who doesn't know him clearly mislabels him." I gave Gavril a keen look, and he smiled. And behind him, Maxon looked intrigued. "Whoever he marries will be a lucky girl. And whatever happens to me, I will be honored to be his subject."
I saw Maxon swallow, and I lowered my eyes.
"America Singer, thank you so much." Gavril went to shake my hand. "Up next is Miss Tallulah Bell."
I didn't hear what any of the girls said after me, though I stared at the two seats. That interview had become way more personal than I'd intended it to be. I couldn't bring myself to look at Maxon. Instead I sat there replaying my words again and again in my head. ~ Kiera Cass,
876:EARNINGS McDonald's Plans Marketing Push as Profit Slides By Julie Jargon | 436 words Associated Press The burger giant has been struggling to maintain relevance among younger consumers and fill orders quickly in kitchens that have grown overwhelmed with menu items. McDonald's Corp. plans a marketing push to emphasize its fresh-cooked breakfasts as it battles growing competition for the morning meal. Competition at breakfast has heated up recently as Yum Brands Inc.'s Taco Bell entered the business with its new Waffle Taco last month and other rivals have added or discounted breakfast items. McDonald's Chief Executive Don Thompson said it hasn't yet noticed an impact from Taco Bell's breakfast debut, but that the overall increased competition "forces us to focus even more on being aggressive in breakfast." Mr. Thompson's comments came after McDonald's on Tuesday reported that its profit for the first three months of 2014 dropped 5.2% from a year earlier, weaker than analysts' expectations. Comparable sales at U.S. restaurants open more than a year declined 1.7% for the quarter and 0.6% for March, the fifth straight month of declines in the company's biggest market. Global same-store sales rose 0.5% for both the quarter and month. Mr. Thompson acknowledged again that the company has lost relevance with some customers and needs to strengthen its menu offerings. He emphasized Tuesday that McDonald's is focused on stabilizing key markets, including the U.S., Germany, Australia and Japan. The CEO said McDonald's has dominated the fast-food breakfast business for 35 years, and "we don't plan on giving that up." The company plans in upcoming ads to inform customers that it cooks its breakfast, unlike some rivals. "We crack fresh eggs, grill sausage and bacon," Mr. Thompson said. "This is not a microwave deal." Beyond breakfast, McDonald's also plans to boost marketing of core menu items such as Big Macs and french fries, since those core products make up 40% of total sales. To serve customers more quickly, the chain is working to optimize staffing, and is adding new prep tables that let workers more efficiently add new toppings when guests want to customize orders. McDonald's also said it aims to sell more company-owned restaurants outside the U.S. to franchisees. Currently, 81% of its restaurants around the world are franchised. Collecting royalties from franchisees provides a stable source of income for a restaurant company and removes the cost of operating them. McDonald's reported a first-quarter profit of $1.2 billion, or $1.21 a share, down from $1.27 billion, or $1.26 a share, a year earlier. The company partly attributed the decline to the effect of income-tax benefits in the prior year. Total revenue for the quarter edged up 1.4% to $6.7 billion, though costs rose faster, at 2.3%. Analysts polled by Thomson Reuters forecast earnings of $1.24 a share on revenue of $6.72 billion. ~ Anonymous,
877:I’m okay. I think all this isolation, and all the extra security stuff, is just starting to wear on me. I’m going a little stir-crazy being cooped up all the time.” She tried to explain her sulky mood. “Especially with Homecoming this weekend. The idea of sitting around here, while everyone else is out having fun, just sucks.”
He didn’t react the way she’d expected him to react. She’d expected some more sympathy, and maybe even some suggestive comments about the two of them being left alone together. What she didn’t expect was for him to smile at her. But he did. And it was his sideways smile, which told Violet that he knew something she didn’t.
“What?” she demanded adamantly.
He grinned. He was definitely keeping something from her.
“Tell me!” she insisted, glowering at him.
“I don’t know . . .” he teased her. “I’m not sure you deserve it.”
She punched him in the arm for making her beg. “Please, just tell me.”
He laughed at her. “Fine. I give up. Bully.” He pretended to rub his arm where she’d hit him. “What if I were to tell you that . . .”—he dragged it out, making her lean closer in anticipation, his crooked smile lighting up his face—“. . . we’re still going to the dance?”
Violet was speechless. That wasn’t at all what she’d expected him to say.
“Yeah, right,” she retorted cynically. “My parents barely let me go to school, let alone go to the dance.”
“You’re right, they didn’t want you to go, but we talked about it, and even your uncle Stephen helped out. The football game was definitely out of the question; there are just too many people coming and going, and there’re no restrictions for getting in. But the dance is at school, in the gym. Only students and their dates can get in, and your uncle said he was already planning to have extra security there. So, as long as I promise to keep a close eye on you . . . which I do”—his voice suggested that the last part had nothing to do with keeping her safe, and Violet felt her cheeks flushing in response—“your parents have agreed to let you go.”
She glanced down at her ankle, double-wrapped in Ace bandages, and completely useless. “But I can’t dance.” She felt crestfallen.
He slid his finger beneath her shin and lifted it up so that she was staring into his eyes. “I don’t care at all if we dance. I just want to take my girlfriend”—his emphasis on the word gave her goose bumps, and she smiled—“to Homecoming.”
They stayed there like that, with their eyes locked and unspoken meaning passing between them, for several long, electrifying moments. Violet was the first to break the spell. “Lissie’ll be there,” she stated in a voice that was devoid of any real jealousy.
Jay shook his head, still gazing at her intently. “I won’t even notice her. I won’t be able to take my eyes off you.”
Violet was glad she was already sitting, because his words made her feel weak and fluttery. The corner of her mouth twitched upward with satisfaction. “Not if I have any say in it, you won’t,” she answered. ~ Kimberly Derting,
878:While these tactics were aggressive and crude, they confirmed that our legislation had touched a nerve. I wasn’t the only one who recognized this. Many other victims of human rights abuses in Russia saw the same thing. After the bill was introduced they came to Washington or wrote letters to the Magnitsky Act’s cosponsors with the same basic message: “You have found the Achilles’ heel of the Putin regime.” Then, one by one, they would ask, “Can you add the people who killed my brother to the Magnitsky Act?” “Can you add the people who tortured my mother?” “How about the people who kidnapped my husband?” And on and on. The senators quickly realized that they’d stumbled onto something much bigger than one horrific case. They had inadvertently discovered a new method for fighting human rights abuses in authoritarian regimes in the twenty-first century: targeted visa sanctions and asset freezes. After a dozen or so of these visits and letters, Senator Cardin and his cosponsors conferred and decided to expand the law, adding sixty-five words to the Magnitsky Act. Those new words said that in addition to sanctioning Sergei’s tormentors, the Magnitsky Act would sanction all other gross human rights abusers in Russia. With those extra sixty-five words, my personal fight for justice had become everyone’s fight. The revised bill was officially introduced on May 19, 2011, less than a month after we posted the Olga Stepanova YouTube video. Following its introduction, a small army of Russian activists descended on Capitol Hill, pushing for the bill’s passage. They pressed every senator who would talk to them to sign on. There was Garry Kasparov, the famous chess grand master and human rights activist; there was Alexei Navalny, the most popular Russian opposition leader; and there was Evgenia Chirikova, a well-known Russian environmental activist. I didn’t have to recruit any of these people. They just showed up by themselves. This uncoordinated initiative worked beautifully. The number of Senate cosponsors grew quickly, with three or four new senators signing on every month. It was an easy sell. There wasn’t a pro-Russian-torture-and-murder lobby in Washington to oppose it. No senator, whether the most liberal Democrat or the most conservative Republican, would lose a single vote for banning Russian torturers and murderers from coming to America. The Magnitsky Act was gathering so much momentum that it appeared it might be unstoppable. From the day that Kyle Scott at the State Department stonewalled me, I knew that the administration was dead set against this, but now they were in a tough spot. If they openly opposed the law, it would look as if they were siding with the Russians. However, if they publicly supported it, it would threaten Obama’s “reset” with Russia. They needed to come up with some other solution. On July 20, 2011, the State Department showed its cards. They sent a memo to the Senate entitled “Administration Comments on S.1039 Sergei Magnitsky Rule of Law.” Though not meant to be made public, within a day it was leaked. ~ Bill Browder,
879:Can you drive it?"

"No. I can't drive a stick at all. It's why I took Andy's car and not one of yours."

"Oh people, for goodness' sake...move over." Choo Co La Tah pushed past Jess to take the driver's seat.

Curious about that, she slid over to make room for the ancient.

Jess hesitated. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Choo Co La Tah gave him a withering glare. "Not at all. But I figured smoeone needed to learn and no on else was volunteering. Step in and get situated. Time is of the essence."

Abigail's heart pounded. "I hope he's joking about that." If not, it would be a very short trip. Ren changed into his crow form before he took flight. Jess and Sasha climbed in, then moved to the compartment behind the seat. A pall hung over all of them while Choo Co La Tah adjusted the seat and mirrors.

By all means, please take your time. Not like they were all about to die or anything...

She couldn't speak as she watched their enemies rapidly closing the distance between them. This was by far the scariest thing she'd seen. Unlike the wasps and scorpions, this horde could think and adapt.
They even had opposable thumbs.

Whole different ball game.

Choo Co La Tah shifted into gear. Or at least he tried. The truck made a fierce grinding sound that caused jess to screw his face up as it lurched violently and shook like a dog coming in from the rain.

"You sure you odn't want me to try?" Jess offered.

Choo Co La Tah waved him away. "I'm a little rusty. Just give me a second to get used to it again."
Abigail swallowed hard. "How long has it been?"

Choo Co La Tah eashed off the clutch and they shuddred forward at the most impressive speed of two whole miles an hour. About the same speed as a limping turtle. "Hmm, probably sometime around nineteen hundred and..."

They all waited with bated breath while he ground his way through more gears. With every shift, the engine audibly protested his skills.

Silently, so did she.

The truck was really moving along now. They reached a staggering fifteen miles an hour. At this rate, they might be able to overtake a loaded school bus...

by tomorrow.

Or at the very least, the day after that.

"...must have been the summer of...hmm...let me think a moment. Fifty-three. Yes, that was it. 1953. The year they came out with color teles. It was a good year as I recall. Same year Bill Gates was born."

The look on Jess's and Sasha's faces would have made her laugh if she wasn't every bit as horrified.

Oh my God, who put him behind the wheel?

Sasha visibly cringed as he saw how close their pursuers were to their bumper. "Should I get out and push?"


Jess cursed under his breath as he saw them, too. "I'd get out and run at this point. I think you'd go faster."

Choo Co La Tah took their comments in stride. "Now, now, gentlemen. All is well. See, I'm getting better." He finally made a gear without the truck spazzing or the gears grinding. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
880:On undetached people who are full of self-will.4 People say: ‘O Lord, I wish that I stood as well with God and that I had as much devotion and peace with God as other people, and that I could be like them or could be as poor as they are.’ Or they say: ‘It never works for me unless I am in this or that particular place and do this or that particular thing. I must go to somewhere remote or live in a hermitage or a monastery.’ Truly, it is you who are the cause of this yourself, and nothing else. It is your own self-will, even if you don’t know it or this doesn’t seem to you to be the case. The lack of peace that you feel can only come from your own self-will, whether you are aware of this or not. Whatever we think – that we should avoid certain things and seek out others, whether these be places or people, particular forms of devotion, this group of people or this kind of activity – these are not to blame for the fact that you are held back by devotional practices and by things; rather it is you as you exist in these things who hold yourself back, for you do not stand in the proper relation to them. Start with yourself therefore and take leave of yourself. Truly, if you do not depart from yourself, then wherever you take refuge, you will find obstacles and unrest, wherever it may be. Those who seek peace in external things, whether in places or devotional practices, people or works, in withdrawal from the world or poverty or self-abasement: however great these things may be or whatever their character, they are still nothing at all and cannot be the source of peace. Those who seek in this way, seek wrongly, and the farther they range, the less they find what they are looking for. They proceed like someone who has lost their way: the farther they go, the more lost they become. But what then should they do? First of all, they should renounce themselves, and then they will have renounced all things. Truly, if someone were to renounce a kingdom or the whole world while still holding on to themselves, then they would have renounced nothing at all. And indeed, if someone renounces themselves, then whatever they might keep, whether it be a kingdom or honour or whatever it may be, they will still have renounced all things. St Peter said, ‘See, Lord, we have left everything’ (Matt. 19:27), when he had left nothing more than a mere net and his little boat, and a saint5 comments that whoever willingly renounces what is small, renounces not only this but also everything which worldly people can possess or indeed even desire. Whoever renounces their own will and their own self, renounces all things as surely as if all things were in that person’s possession to do with as they pleased, for what you do not wish to desire, you have given over and given up to God. Therefore our Lord said, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit’ (Matt. 5:3), which is to say those who are poor in will. Let no one be in any doubt about this: if there were a better way, then our Lord would have told us, who said, ‘If anyone would follow me, he must first deny himself’ (Matt 16:24). This is the point which counts. Examine yourself, and wherever you find yourself, then take leave of yourself. This is the best way of all. ~ Meister Eckhart,
881:To the door of an inn in the provincial town of N. there drew up a smart britchka—a light spring-carriage of the sort affected by bachelors, retired lieutenant-colonels, staff-captains, land-owners possessed of about a hundred souls, and, in short, all persons who rank as gentlemen of the intermediate category. In the britchka was seated such a gentleman—a man who, though not handsome, was not ill-favoured, not over-fat, and not over-thin. Also, though not over-elderly, he was not over-young. His arrival produced no stir in the town, and was accompanied by no particular incident, beyond that a couple of peasants who happened to be standing at the door of a dramshop exchanged a few comments with reference to the equipage rather than to the individual who was seated in it. "Look at that carriage," one of them said to the other. "Think you it will be going as far as Moscow?" "I think it will," replied his companion. "But not as far as Kazan, eh?" "No, not as far as Kazan." With that the conversation ended. Presently, as the britchka was approaching the inn, it was met by a young man in a pair of very short, very tight breeches of white dimity, a quasi-fashionable frockcoat, and a dickey fastened with a pistol-shaped bronze tie-pin. The young man turned his head as he passed the britchka and eyed it attentively; after which he clapped his hand to his cap (which was in danger of being removed by the wind) and resumed his way. On the vehicle reaching the inn door, its occupant found standing there to welcome him the polevoi, or waiter, of the establishment—an individual of such nimble and brisk movement that even to distinguish the character of his face was impossible. Running out with a napkin in one hand and his lanky form clad in a tailcoat, reaching almost to the nape of his neck, he tossed back his locks, and escorted the gentleman upstairs, along a wooden gallery, and so to the bedchamber which God had prepared for the gentleman's reception. The said bedchamber was of quite ordinary appearance, since the inn belonged to the species to be found in all provincial towns—the species wherein, for two roubles a day, travellers may obtain a room swarming with black-beetles, and communicating by a doorway with the apartment adjoining. True, the doorway may be blocked up with a wardrobe; yet behind it, in all probability, there will be standing a silent, motionless neighbour whose ears are burning to learn every possible detail concerning the latest arrival. The inn's exterior corresponded with its interior. Long, and consisting only of two storeys, the building had its lower half destitute of stucco; with the result that the dark-red bricks, originally more or less dingy, had grown yet dingier under the influence of atmospheric changes. As for the upper half of the building, it was, of course, painted the usual tint of unfading yellow. Within, on the ground floor, there stood a number of benches heaped with horse-collars, rope, and sheepskins; while the window-seat accommodated a sbitentshik[1], cheek by jowl with a samovar[2]—the latter so closely resembling the former in appearance that, but for the fact of the samovar possessing a pitch-black lip, the samovar and the sbitentshik might have been two of a pair. ~ Nikolai Gogol,
882:Chad made a sour face. He turned to Shadow. “Okay,” said Chad. “Through that door and into the sally port.”

“What?”

“Out there. Where the car is.”

Liz unlocked the doors. “You make sure that orange uniform comes right back here,” she said to the deputy. “The last felon we sent down to Lafayette, we never saw the uniform again. They cost the county money.” They walked Shadow out to the sally port, where a car sat idling. It wasn’t a sheriff’s department car. It was a black town car. Another deputy, a grizzled white guy with a mustache, stood by the car, smoking a cigarette. He crushed it out underfoot as they came close, and opened the back door for Shadow.

Shadow sat down, awkwardly, his movements hampered by the cuffs and the hobble. There was no grille between the back and the front of the car.

The two deputies climbed into the front of the car. The black deputy started the motor. They waited for the sally port door to open.

“Come on, come on,” said the black deputy, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

Chad Mulligan tapped on the side window. The white deputy glanced at the driver, then he lowered the window. “This is wrong,” said Chad. “I just wanted to say that.”

“Your comments have been noted, and will be conveyed to the appropriate authorities,” said the driver.

The doors to the outside world opened. The snow was still falling, dizzying into the car’s headlights. The driver put his foot on the gas, and they were heading back down the street and on to Main Street.

“You heard about Wednesday?” said the driver. His voice sounded different, now, older, and familiar. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah. I know,” said Shadow. “I saw it on TV.”

“Those fuckers,” said the white officer. It was the first thing he had said, and his voice was rough and accented and, like the driver’s, it was a voice that Shadow knew. “I tell you, they are fuckers, those fuckers.”

“Thanks for coming to get me,” said Shadow.

“Don’t mention it,” said the driver. In the light of an oncoming car his face already seemed to look older. He looked smaller, too. The last time Shadow had seen him he had been wearing lemon-yellow gloves and a check jacket. “We were in Milwaukee. Had to drive like demons when Ibis called.”

“You think we let them lock you up and send you to the chair, when I’m still waiting to break your head with my hammer?” asked the white deputy gloomily, fumbling in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. His accent was Eastern European.

“The real shit will hit the fan in an hour or less,” said Mr. Nancy, looking more like himself with each moment, “when they really turn up to collect you. We’ll pull over before we get to Highway 53 and get you out of those shackles and back into your own clothes.” Czernobog held up a handcuff key and smiled.

“I like the mustache,” said Shadow. “Suits you.”

Czernobog stroked it with a yellowed finger. “Thank you.”

“Wednesday,” said Shadow. “Is he really dead? This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”

He realized that he had been holding on to some kind of hope, foolish though it was. But the expression on Nancy’s face told him all he needed to know, and the hope was gone. ~ Neil Gaiman,
883:Classic Dancing In Cactus Center
Down here in Cactus Center we have lived a life apart;
We've been far, we're frank in sayin', from the headquarters of art...
Our work has kept us humpin', roundin' up the festive steer;
We admit that things aesthetic find us bringin' up the rear;
All of which has some small bearin' on a thing that's knocked us cold-That has set the cowboys talkin' when the cigarettes is rolled,
And has proved to be the reason why the Two-Bar boss has swore
That this Terpsichory goddess gits his O K nevermore.
It started when a lady wrote Bear Hawkins from the East
That she'd like to rent a pasture, if he had one to be leased.
She said she wished to use it for her classic dancin'-school,
And Bear wrote back: 'Dear madam, I am sure a locoed fool,
But I fail to see why pastures beat the schoolhouse dancin'-floor,
Which, of course, it ain't my worry, as it's grass you're payin' for;
So you'll find the pasture ready, right behind the main corral,
And I speak up for some lessons for my old friend, Cattle Sal.'
Well, Bear's eyes stuck out like doorknobs when the dancin'-school arrove,
And jest thirty-eight young women to the cattle ranch he drove;
They was headed by a woman with a most determined jaw-The kind who, in all comp'ny constitoots herself the law;
And she said: 'Now, Mister Hawkins, we have come here to the West
To create some classic dances that will give our art new zest.
For among those wild surroundings it will be no trick to find
Some stunts to make Pavlowa fade from out the public mind.'
When Old Pete went out, next sunrise, for to rope his pinto hoss,
He thought he saw ghosts dancin', and he called upon the boss;
And the boss, though he'd been sober for a week, or maybe more,
Thought he must be seein' visions like he never seen before;
'Cause those dancers were disportin', all in robes of dazzlin' white,
And Old Pete says: 'Boss, I'm quittin'--you kin pay me off to-night.
As it's me for Cactus Center, lest I feel disposed to prance
And to tramp down good alfalfa in this sort of classic dance.'
Well, there was n't much work doin' in the round-up gang for days;
There was cows that went unbranded, and good steers was lost as strays;
The cowboys sat for hours on the top rail of the fence
And watched the classic dancers, as they flitted here and whence,
Till Bear Hawkins said: 'Dear madam, you must sure detour your freight;
While we like your classic dancin', we must hand it to you straight
That you've got our punchers locoed, and the case is just this size:
You must quit this cattle country, or the price of beef will rise.'
Thought the leader was offended, Hawkins took his stand quite firm,
And the dancers started Eastward, cuttin' short their Wild West term;
But they've left a deep impression, and the boys don't give two hoots
In reels and clogs, and such things, for to agitate their boots;
And when the schoolhouse dances are given, now and then,
You can hear the whispered comments 'mong a lot of wall-flower men,
And you know that they are talkin' of the palpitatin' days
When we got our introduction to the classic dancin' craze.
~ Arthur Chapman,
884:Senator Warren questions SEC chair on broker reforms 525 words By Sarah N. Lynch WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Senator Elizabeth Warren said Friday that the Labor Department should press ahead with brokerage industry reforms, and not be deterred by the Securities and Exchange Commission's plans to adopt its own separate rules.    President Barack Obama, with frequent Wall Street critic Warren at his side, last month called on the Labor Department to quickly move forward to tighten brokerage standards on retirement advice, lending new momentum to a long-running effort to implement reforms aimed at reducing conflicts of interest and "hidden fees." But that effort could be complicated by a parallel track of reforms by the SEC, whose Chair Mary Jo White on Tuesday said she supported moving ahead with a similar effort to hold retail brokers to a higher "fiduciary" standard. "I want to see the Department of Labor go forward now," Warren told Reuters in an interview Friday. "There is no reason to wait for the SEC. There is no question that the Department of Labor has the authority to act to ensure that retirement advisers are serving the best interest of their clients." Warren said that while she has no concerns with the SEC moving forward to write its own rules, she fears its involvement may give Wall Street a hook to try to delay or water down a separate ongoing Labor Department effort to craft tough new rules governing how brokers dole out retirement advice. She also raised questions about White's decision to unveil her position at a conference hosted by the Securities Industry and Financial Markets Association (SIFMA), a trade group representing the interests of securities brokerage firms. Not only is the SEC the lead regulator for brokers, but unlike the Labor Department, it is also bound by law to preserve brokers' commission-based compensation in any new fiduciary rule.     "I was surprised that (Chair) White announced the rule at a conference hosted by an industry trade group that spent several years and millions of dollars lobbying members of Congress to block real action to fix the problem," Warren said. Warren, a Massachusetts Democrat who frequently challenges market regulators as too cozy with industry, stopped short of directly criticizing White. The SEC and SIFMA both declined to comment on Warren's comments. SIFMA has strongly opposed the Labor Department's efforts, fearing its rule will contain draconian measures that would cut broker profits, and in turn, force brokers to pull back from offering accounts and advice to American retirees. It has long advocated for the SEC to take the lead on a rule that would create a new uniform standard of care for brokers and advisers. The SEC has said it has been coordinating with the Labor Department on the rule-writing effort, but on Tuesday White also acknowledged that the two can still act independently of one another because they operate under different laws. The industry and reform advocates have been waiting now for years to see whether the SEC would move to tighten standards.     Warren expressed some skepticism on Friday about whether the SEC will ever in fact actually adopt a rule, saying that for years the agency has talked about taking action, but has not delivered. (Reporting by Sarah N. Lynch; Editing by Christian Plumb) ~ Anonymous,
885:The sensation I was feeling on the clifftop was some sort of reverberation in the air itself.… The whale had submerged and I was still feeling something. The strange rhythm seemed now to be coming from behind me, from the land, so I turned to look across the gorge … where my heart stopped.… Standing there in the shade of the tree was an elephant … staring out to sea!… A female with a left tusk broken off near the base.… I knew who she was, who she had to be. I recognized her from a color photograph put out by the Department of Water Affairs and Forestry under the title “The Last Remaining Knysna Elephant.” This was the Matriarch herself.… She was here because she no longer had anyone to talk to in the forest. She was standing here on the edge of the ocean because it was the next, nearest, and most powerful source of infrasound. The underrumble of the surf would have been well within her range, a soothing balm for an animal used to being surrounded by low and comforting frequencies, by the lifesounds of a herd, and now this was the next-best thing. My heart went out to her. The whole idea of this grandmother of many being alone for the first time in her life was tragic, conjuring up the vision of countless other old and lonely souls. But just as I was about to be consumed by helpless sorrow, something even more extraordinary took place.… The throbbing was back in the air. I could feel it, and I began to understand why. The blue whale was on the surface again, pointed inshore, resting, her blowhole clearly visible. The Matriarch was here for the whale! The largest animal in the ocean and the largest living land animal were no more than a hundred yards apart, and I was convinced that they were communicating! In infrasound, in concert, sharing big brains and long lives, understanding the pain of high investment in a few precious offspring, aware of the importance and the pleasure of complex sociality, these rare and lovely great ladies were commiserating over the back fence of this rocky Cape shore, woman to woman, matriarch to matriarch, almost the last of their kind. I turned, blinking away the tears, and left them to it. This was no place for a mere man.… Early afternoon. They were coming to this place, to this tall grass, all along. They will feed here for a while and then, because there’s no water right here, go down to where those egrets are. There’s water there. After they’ve had a good drink, they might make a big loop and come back here again later to feed some more. It will be a one-family-at-a-time choice as the adults decide when to drink and bathe. When elephants are finally ready to make a significant move, everyone points in the same direction. But they do wait until the matriarch decides. “I’ve seen families cued up waiting for half an hour,” comments Vicki, “waiting for the matriarch to signal, ‘Okay.’” And now they go. Makelele, eleven years old, walks with a deep limp. Five years ago he showed up with a broken right rear leg. It must have been agony, and it’s healed at a horrible angle, almost as if his knee faces backward, shaping that leg like the hock on a horse. Yet he is here, surviving with a little help from his friends. “He’s slow,” Vicki acknowledges. “It’s remarkable that he’s managing, but his family seems to wait for him.” Another Amboseli elephant, named Tito, broke a leg when he was a year old, probably from falling into a garbage pit. ~ Carl Safina,
886:After parking in the west lot, far from a certain gang member with a reputation that could scare off even the toughest Fairfield football players, Sierra and I walk up the front steps of Fairfield High. Unfortunately, Alex Fuentes and the rest of his gang friends are hanging by the front doors.
“Walk right past them,” Sierra mutters. “Whatever you do, don’t look in their eyes.”
It’s pretty hard not to when Alex Fuentes steps right in front of me and blocks my path.
What’s that prayer you’re supposed to say right before you know you’re going to die?
“You’re a lousy driver,” Alex says with his slight Latino accent and full-blown-I-AM-THE-MAN stance.
The guy might look like an Abercrombie mode with his ripped bod and flawless face, but his picture is more likely to be taken for a mug shot.
The kids from the north side don’t really mix with kids from the south side. It’s not that we think we’re better than them, we’re just different. We’ve grown up in the same town, but on totally opposite sides. We live in big houses on Lake Michigan and they live next to the train tracks. We look, talk, act, and dress different. I’m not saying it’s good or bad; it’s just the way it is in Fairfield. And, to be honest, most of the south side girls treat me like Carmen Sanchez does…they hate me because of who I am.
Or, rather, who they think I am.
Alex’s gaze slowly moves down my body, traveling the length of me before moving back up. It’s not the first time a guy has checked me out, it’s just that I never had a guy like Alex do it so blatantly…and so up-close. I can feel my face getting hot.
“Next time, watch where you’re goin’,” he says, his voice cool and controlled.
He’s trying to bully me. He’s a pro at this. I won’t let him get to me and win his little game of intimidation, even if my stomach feels like I’m doing one hundred cartwheels in a row. I square my shoulders and sneer at him, the same sneer I use to push people away. “Thanks for the tip.”
“If you ever need a real man to teach you how to drive, I can give you lessons.”
Catcalls and whistles from his buddies set my blood boiling.
“If you were a real man, you’d open the door for me instead of blocking my way,” I say, admiring my own comeback even as my knees threaten to buckle.
Alex steps back, pulls the door open, and bows like he’s my butler. He’s totally mocking me, he knows it and I know it. Everyone knows it. I catch a glimpse of Sierra, still desperately searching for nothing in her purse. She’s clueless.
“Get a life,” I tell him.
“Like yours? Cabróna, let me tell you somethin’,” Alex says harshly. “Your life isn’t reality, it’s fake. Just like you.”
“It’s better than living my life as a loser,” I lash out, hoping my words sting as much as his words did. “Just like you.”
Grabbing Sierra’s arm, I pull her toward the open door. Catcalls and comments follow us as we walk into the school.
I finally let out the breath I must have been holding, then turn to Sierra.
My best friend is staring at me, all bug-eyed. “Holy shit, Brit! You got a death wish or something?”
“What gives Alex Fuentes the right to bully everyone in his path?”
“Uh, maybe the gun he has hidden in his pants or the gang colors he wears,” Sierra says, sarcasm dripping from every word.
“He’s not stupid enough to carry a gun to school,” I reason. “And I refuse to be bullied, by him or anyone else. ~ Simone Elkeles,
887:Okay, so I shouldn't have fucked with her on the introduction thing. Writing nothing except, Saturday night. You and me. Driving lessons and hot sex ... in her notebook probably wasn't the smartest move. But I was itching to make Little Miss Perfecta stumble in her introduction of me. And stumbling she is.
"Miss Ellis?"
I watch in amusement as Perfection herself looks up at Peterson. Oh, she's good. This partner of mine knows how to hide her true emotions, something I recognize because I do it all the time.
"Yes?" Brittany says, tilting her head and smiling like a beauty queen.
I wonder if that smile has ever gotten her out of a speeding ticket.
"It's your turn. Introduce Alex to the class."
I lean an elbow on the lab table, waiting for an introduction she has to either make up or fess up she knows less than crap about me. She glances at my comfortable position and I can tell from her deer-in-the-headlights look I've stumped her.
"This is Alejandro Fuentes," she starts, her voice hitching the slightest bit. My temper flares at the mention of my given name, but I keep a cool facade as she continues with a made-up introduction. "When he wasn't hanging out on street corners and harassing innocent people this summer, he toured the inside of jails around the city, if you know what I mean. And he has a secret desire nobody would ever guess."
The room suddenly becomes quiet. Even Peterson straightens to attention. Hell, even I'm listening like the words coming out of Brittany's lying, pink-frosted lips are gospel.
"His secret desire," she continues, "is to go to college and become a chemistry teacher, like you, Mrs. Peterson."
Yeah, right. I look over at my friend Isa, who seems amused that a white girl isn't afraid of giving me smack in front of the entire class.
Brittany flashes me a triumphant smile, thinking she's won this round. Guess again, gringa.
I sit up in my chair while the class remains silent.
"This is Brittany Ellis," I say, all eyes now focused on me. "This summer she went to the mall, bought new clothes so she could expand her wardrobe, and spent her daddy's money on plastic surgery to enhance her, ahem, assets."
It might not be what she wrote, but it's probably close enough to the truth. Unlike her introduction of me.
Chuckles come from mis cuates in the back of the class, and Brittany is as stiff as a board beside me, as if my words hurt her precious ego. Brittany Ellis is used to people fawning all over her and she could use a little wake-up call. I'm actually doing her a favor. Little does she know I'm not finished with her intro.
"Her secret desire," I add, getting the same reaction as she did during her introduction, "is to date a Mexicano before she graduates."
As expected, my words are met by comments and low whistles from the back of the room.
"Way to go, Fuentes," my friend Lucky barks out.
"I'll date you, mamacita, " another says.
I give a high five to another Latino Blood named Marcus sitting behind me just as I catch Isa shaking her head as if I did something wrong. What? I'm just having a little fun with a rich girl from the north side.
Brittany's gaze shifts from Colin to me. I take one look at Colin and with my eyes tell him game on. Colin's face instantly turns bright red, resembling a chile pepper. I have definitely invaded his territory. ~ Simone Elkeles,
888:Is there a bird among them, dear boy?” Charity asked innocently, peering not at the things on the desk, but at his face, noting the muscle beginning to twitch at Ian’s tense jaw.
“No.”
“Then they must be in the schoolroom! Of course,” she said cheerfully, “that’s it. How like me, Hortense would say, to have made such a silly mistake.”
Ian dragged his eyes from the proof that his grandfather had been keeping track of him almost from the day of his birth-certainly from the day when he was able to leave the cottage on his own two legs-to her face and said mockingly, “Hortense isn’t very perceptive. I would say you are as wily as a fox.”
She gave him a little knowing smile and pressed her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell her, will you? She does so enjoy thinking she is the clever one.”
“How did he manage to have these drawn?” Ian asked, stopping her as she turned away.
“A woman in the village near your home drew many of them. Later he hired an artist when he knew you were going to be somewhere at a specific time. I’ll just leave you here where it’s nice and quiet.” She was leaving him, Ian knew, to look through the items on the desk. For a long moment he hesitated, and then he slowly sat down in the chair, looking over the confidential reports on himself. They were all written by one Mr. Edgard Norwich, and as Ian began scanning the thick stack of pages, his anger at his grandfather for this outrageous invasion of his privacy slowly became amusement. For one thing, nearly every letter from the investigator began with phrases that made it clear the duke had chastised him for not reporting in enough detail. The top letter began,

I apologize, Your Grace, for my unintentional laxness in failing to mention that indeed Mr. Thornton enjoys an occasional cheroot…

The next one opened with,

I did not realize, Your Grace, that you would wish to know how fast his horse ran in the race-in addition to knowing that he won.

From the creases and holds in the hundreds of reports it was obvious to Ian that they’d been handled and read repeatedly, and it was equally obvious from some of the investigator’s casual comments that his grandfather had apparently expressed his personal pride to him:

You will be pleased to know, Your Grace, that young Ian is a fine whip, just as you expected…
I quite agree with you, as do many others, that Mr. Thornton is undoubtedly a genius…
I assure you, Your Grace, that your concern over that duel is unfounded. It was a flesh wound in the arm, nothing more.

Ian flipped through them at random, unaware that the barricade he’d erected against his grandfather was beginning to crack very slightly.
“Your Grace,” the investigator had written in a rare fit of exasperation when Ian was eleven,

“the suggestion that I should be able to find a physician who might secretly look at young Ian’s sore throat is beyond all bounds of reason. Even if I could find one who was willing to pretend to be a lost traveler, I really cannot see how he could contrive to have a peek at the boy’s throat without causing suspicion!”

The minutes became an hour, and Ian’s disbelief increased as he scanned the entire history of his life, from his achievements to his peccadilloes. His gambling gains and losses appeared regularly; each ship he added to his fleet had been described, and sketches forwarded separately; his financial progress had been reported in minute and glowing detail. ~ Judith McNaught,
889:In the words of Paul Johnson: The Temple, now, in Herod’s1 version, rising triumphantly over Jerusalem, was an ocular reminder that Judaism was about Jews and their history—not about anyone else. Other gods flew across the deserts from the East without much difficulty, jettisoning the inconvenient and embarrassing accretions from their past, changing, as it were, their accents and manners as well as their names. But the God of the Jews was still alive and roaring in his Temple, demanding blood, making no attempt to conceal his racial and primitive origins. Herod’s fabric was elegant, modern, sophisticated—he had, indeed, added some Hellenic decorative effects much resented by fundamentalist Jews who constantly sought to destroy them—but nothing could hide the essential business of the Temple, which was the ritual slaughter, consumption, and combustion of sacrificial cattle on a gigantic scale. The place was as vast as a small city. There were literally thousands of priests, attendants, temple-soldiers, and minions. To the unprepared visitor, the dignity and charity of Jewish disapora life, the thoughtful comments and homilies of the Alexandrian synagogue, was quite lost amid the smoke of the pyres, the bellows of terrified beasts, the sluices of blood, the abattoir stench, the unconcealed and unconcealable machinery of tribal religion inflated by modern wealth to an industrial scale. Sophisticated Romans who knew the Judaism of the diaspora found it hard to understand the hostility towards Jews shown by colonial officials who, behind a heavily-armed escort, had witnessed Jerusalem at festival time. Diaspora Judaism, liberal and outward-minded, contained the matrix of a universal religion, but only if it could be cut off from its barbarous origins; and how could so thick and sinewy an umbilical cord be severed? This description of “Herod’s” Temple (actually the Second Temple, built in the sixth century B.C. and rebuilt by Herod) is more than a bit overwrought. The God of the Jews did not roar in his Temple: the insoluble problem was that, since the destruction of the First Temple and, with it, the Ark of the Covenant, God had ceased to be present in his Temple. Nor would animal sacrifice have disgusted the gentiles, since Greeks, Romans, and all ancient peoples offered such sacrifices (though one cannot help wondering whether, had the Second Temple not been destroyed, it would today be ringed from morn to night by indignant animal-rights activists). But Johnson is right to emphasize that Judaism, in its mother city, could display a sweaty tribalism that gentiles would only find unattractive. The partisan, argumentative ambience of first-century Jerusalem, not unlike the atmosphere of the ultra-Orthodox pockets of the contemporary city, could repel any outsider, whether gentile or diaspora Jew. Perhaps most important is Johnson’s shrewd observation that Judaism “contained the matrix of a universal religion.” By this time, the more percipient inhabitants of the Greco-Roman world had come to the conclusion that polytheism, whatever manifestation it might assume, was seriously flawed. The Jews alone, by offering monotheism, offered a unitive vision, not the contradictory and flickering epiphanies of a fanciful pantheon of gods and goddesses. But could Judaism adapt to gentile needs, could it lose its foreign accent and outlandish manners? No one saw the opportunity more clearly than Luke; his gospel and its sequel, the Acts of the Apostles, present a Jesus and a Jesus Movement specifically tailored to gentile sensibility. ~ Thomas Cahill,
890:Information or allegations reflecting negatively on individuals or groups seen less sympathetically by the intelligentsia pass rapidly into the public domain with little scrutiny and much publicity. Two of the biggest proven hoaxes of our time have involved allegations of white men gang-raping a black woman-- first the Tawana Brawley hoax of 1987 and later the false rape charges against three Duke University students in 2006. In both cases, editorial indignation rang out across the land, without a speck of evidence to substantiate either of these charges. Moreover, the denunciations were not limited to the particular men accused, but were often extended to society at large, of whom these men were deemed to be symptoms or 'the tip of the iceberg.' In both cases, the charges fit a pre-existing vision, and that apparently made mundane facts unnecessary.

Another widely publicized hoax-- one to which the President of the United States added his sub-hoax-- was a 1996 story appearing in USA Today under the headline, 'Arson at Black Churches Echoes Bigotry of the Past.' There was, according to USA Today, 'an epidemic of church burning,' targeting black churches. Like the gang-rape hoaxes, this story spread rapidly through the media. The Chicago Tribune referred to 'an epidemic of criminal and cowardly arson' leaving black churches in ruins.

As with the gang-rape hoaxes, comments on the church fire stories went beyond those who were supposed to have set these fires to blame forces at work in society at large. Jesse Jackson was quoted was quoted in the New York Times as calling these arsons part of a 'cultural conspiracy' against blacks, which 'reflected the heightened racial tensions in the south that have been exacerbated by the assault on affirmative action and the populist oratory of Republican politicians like Pat Buchanan.' Time magazine writer Jack White likewise blamed 'the coded phrases' of Republican leaders for 'encouraging the arsonists.' Columnist Barbara Reynolds of USA Today said that the fires were 'an attempt to murder the spirit of black America.' New York Times columnist Bob Herbert said, "The fuel for these fires can be traced to a carefully crafted environment of bigotry and hatred that was developed over the last century.'

As with the gang-rape hoaxes, the charges publicized were taken as reflecting on the whole society, not just those supposedly involved in what was widely presumed to be arson, rather than fires that break out for a variety of other reasons. Washington Post columnist Dorothy Gilliam said that society in effect was 'giving these arsonists permission to commit these horrible crimes.' The climax of these comments came when President Bill Clinton, in his weekly radio address, said that these church burnings recalled similar burnings of black churches in Arkansas when he was a boy. There were more that 2,000 media stories done on the subject after the President's address.

This story began to unravel when factual research showed that (1) no black churches were burned in Arkansas when Bill Clinton was growing up, (2) there had been no increase in fires at black churches, but an actual decrease over the previous 15 years, (3) the incidence of fires at white churches was similar to the incidence of fires at black churches, and (4) where there was arson, one-third of the suspects were black. However, retractions of the original story-- where there were retractions at all-- typically were given far less prominence than the original banner headlines and heated editorial comments. ~ Thomas Sowell,
891:Savona escorted me back to the Residence. For most of our journey the talk was in our usual pattern--he made outrageous compliments, which I turned into jokes. Once he said, “May I count on you to grace the Khazhred ball tomorrow?”
“If the sight of me in my silver gown, dancing as often as I can, is your definition of grace, well, nothing easier,” I replied, wondering what he would do if I suddenly flirted back in earnest.
He smiled, kissed my hand, and left. As I trod up the steps alone, I realized that he had never really talked with me about any serious subject, in spite of his obvious admiration.
I thought back over the picnic. No serious subject had been discussed there, either, but I remembered some of the light, quick flirtatious comments he exchanged with some of the other ladies, and how much he appeared to appreciate their flirting right back. Would he appreciate it if I did? Except I can’t, I thought, walking down the hall to my room. Clever comments with double meanings; a fan pressed against someone’s wrist in different ways to hint at different things; all these things I’d observed and understood the meanings of, but I couldn’t see myself actually performing them even if I could think of them quickly enough.
What troubled me most was trying to figure out Savona’s real intent. He certainly wasn’t courting me, I realized as I pushed aside my tapestry. What other purpose would there be in such a long, one-sided flirtation?
My heart gave a bound of anticipation when I saw a letter waiting and I recognized the style of the Unknown.

You ask what I think, and I will tell you that I admire without reservation your ability to solve your problems in a manner unforeseen by any, including those who would consider themselves far more clever than you.

That was all.
I read it through several times, trying to divine whether it was a compliment or something else entirely. He’s waiting to see what I do about Tamara, I thought at last.
“And in return?” That was what Tamara had said.
This is the essence of politics, I realized. One creates an interest, or, better, an obligation, that causes others to act according to one’s wishes. I grabbed up a paper, dipped my pen, and wrote swiftly:

Today I have come to two realizations. Now, I well realize that every courtier in Athanarel probably saw all this by their tenth year. Nonetheless, I think I finally see the home-thrust of politics. Everyone who has an interest in such things seems to be waiting for me to make some sort of capital with respect to the situation with Tamara, and won’t they be surprised when I do nothing at all!
Truth to say, I hold no grudge against Tamara. I’d have to be a mighty hypocrite to fault her for wishing to become a queen, when I tried to do the same a year back--though I really think her heart lies elsewhere--and if I am right, I got in her way yet again.
Which brings me to my second insight: that Savona’s flirtation with me is just that, and not a courtship. The way I define courtship is that one befriends the other, tries to become a companion and not just a lover. I can’t see why he so exerted himself to seek me out, but I can’t complain, for I am morally certain that his interest is a good part of what has made me popular. (Though all this could end tomorrow).


“Meliara?” Nee’s voice came through my tapestry. “The concert begins at the next time change.”
I signed the letter hastily, sealed it, and left it lying there as I hurried to change my gown. No need to summon Mora, I thought; she was used to this particular exchange by now. ~ Sherwood Smith,
892:And if this were an Austen novel, the characters would be up for a little banter about now. Jane cleared her throat.
“Mr. Nobley, Lady Templeton says Pembrook Park will host a ball in just over a fortnight. Do you enjoy a good dance?”
“Dancing I tolerate,” he answered in a dry tone. “I might say I enjoy a good dance, though I have never had one.”
“Scandalous!” Aunt Saffronia said. “You have danced in this drawing room several times, and I have seen you escort many a fine young lady onto a ballroom floor. Are you saying that none of those qualified as a good dance?”
“Madam, you may choose to understand my comments any way you like.”
Jane glared. He was, in his subtle manner, insulting dear Aunt Saffronia! Wait, no he wasn’t, they were both actors playing parts. Being inside this story felt a tad more surreal than she’d expected. For one thing, if this were real, she’d find Mr. Nobley’s arrogance annoying and his self-absorption unbearably boring. The character deserved a good thrashing.
“I suppose the lack in all such occurrences was to be found in your partners, Mr. Nobley?” Jane asked.
Mr. Nobley thought. “In them, yes, and partly in myself. I cannot imagine a dance truly being enjoyable unless both partners find themselves equals in rank, grace, and aptitude, as well as naturally fond of each other.”
“One might say the same for conversation.”
“Indeed one might,” he said, turning in his chair to face her. “We are ill-fated in that our society demands we engage in unworthy conversations and dances in order to seem courteous, and yet such actions are ultimately vulgar.”
“But pray tell, Mr. Nobley,” Jane said, enthused, “how is one to find out if another is her equal in rank, grace, and aptitude, and how is one to discover a natural fondness, without first engaging in conversations and social gatherings? Would you say a hunter were vulgar when coursing through the fields and only dignified when actually shooting at prey?”
“I think she has you there, Nobley,” Colonel Andrews said with a laugh.
Mr. Nobley’s expression did not change. “A hunter need not spend hours with a pheasant to know it would make a good dinner. A pheasant is nothing more than what it seems, as are hens, foxes, and swans. People are no different. Some may need endless hours of prattle and prancing to know another’s worth. I should not.”
Jane turned her gaping mouth into a smile. “So, you can tell the worth, the merit, the nobility of a person at a glance?”
“And you cannot?” His expression held a mild challenge. “Can you tell me that within the first few moments of knowing each person in this room, you had not formed firm judgments of their character, which up to this very moment you have not questioned?”
She smiled ever so slightly. “You are correct, sir. However, I do hope that, in at least one regard, my first impression will eventually prove not to be completely accurate.”
There was a tense silence, and then Colonel Andrews laughed again.
“Excellent. Most excellent. Never heard someone give old Nobley the what-for quite like that.” He slapped the table emphatically.
“Come on, Miss Erstwhile,” Miss Charming said, “it’s your turn, what-what.”
Jane played her card, and after a moment stole a glance at Mr. Nobley. He’d been watching her, and when he looked away, guilt betrayed his forced serenity. Sir Templeton, a nearly empty glass trembling in his hand, snorted in his sleep on the sofa. Jane heard Miss Charming say “jolly good” again, caught Colonel Andrews passing her a sly smile, and found herself wondering if she wasn’t the prettiest, smartest guest they’d had in some time. Or ever.
All was going splendidly. ~ Shannon Hale,
893:Hypercritical, Shaming Parents
Hypercritical and shaming parents send the same message to their children as perfectionistic parents do - that they are never good enough. Parents often deliberately shame their children into minding them without realizing the disruptive impact shame can have on a child's sense of self. Statements such as "You should be ashamed of yourself" or "Shame on you" are obvious examples. Yet these types of overtly shaming statements are actually easier for the child to defend against than are more subtle forms of shaming, such as contempt, humiliation, and public shaming.
There are many ways that parents shame their children. These include belittling, blaming, contempt, humiliation, and disabling expectations.
-BELITTLING. Comments such as "You're too old to want to be held" or "You're just a cry-baby" are horribly humiliating to a child. When a parent makes a negative comparison between his or her child and another, such as "Why can't you act like Jenny? See how she sits quietly while her mother is talking," it is not only humiliating but teaches a child to always compare himself or herself with peers and find himself or herself deficient by comparison.
-BLAMING. When a child makes a mistake, such as breaking a vase while rough-housing, he or she needs to take responsibility. But many parents go way beyond teaching a lesson by blaming and berating the child: "You stupid idiot! Do you think money grows on trees? I don't have money to buy new vases!" The only thing this accomplishes is shaming the child to such an extent that he or she cannot find a way to walk away from the situation with his or her head held high.
-CONTEMPT. Expressions of disgust or contempt communicate absolute rejection. The look of contempt (often a sneer or a raised upper lip), especially from someone who is significant to a child, can make him or her feel disgusting or offensive. When I was a child, my mother had an extremely negative attitude toward me. Much of the time she either looked at me with the kind of expectant expression that said, "What are you up to now?" or with a look of disapproval or disgust over what I had already done. These looks were extremely shaming to me, causing me to feel that there was something terribly wrong with me.
-HUMILIATION. There are many ways a parent can humiliate a child, such as making him or her wear clothes that have become dirty. But as Gershen Kaufman stated in his book Shame: The Power of Caring, "There is no more humiliating experience than to have another person who is clearly the stronger and more powerful take advantage of that power and give us a beating." I can personally attest to this. In addition to shaming me with her contemptuous looks, my mother often punished me by hitting me with the branch of a tree, and she often did this outside, in front of the neighbors. The humiliation I felt was like a deep wound to my soul.
-DISABLING EXPECTATIONS. Parents who have an inordinate need to have their child excel at a particular activity or skill are likely to behave in ways that pressure the child to do more and more. According to Kaufman, when a child becomes aware of the real possibility of failing to meet parental expectations, he or she often experiences a binding self-consciousness. This self-consciousness - the painful watching of oneself - is very disabling. When something is expected of us in this way, attaining the goal is made harder, if not impossible.
Yet another way that parents induce shame in their children is by communicating to them that they are a disappointment to them. Such messages as "I can't believe you could do such a thing" or "I am deeply disappointed in you" accompanied by a disapproving tone of voice and facial expression can crush a child's spirit. ~ Beverly Engel,
894:It’s loneliness. Even though I’m surrounded by loved ones who care about me and want only the best, it’s possible they try to help only because they feel the same thing—loneliness—and why, in a gesture of solidarity, you’ll find the phrase “I am useful, even if alone” carved in stone. Though the brain says all is well, the soul is lost, confused, doesn’t know why life is being unfair to it. But we still wake up in the morning and take care of our children, our husband, our lover, our boss, our employees, our students, those dozens of people who make an ordinary day come to life. And we often have a smile on our face and a word of encouragement, because no one can explain their loneliness to others, especially when we are always in good company. But this loneliness exists and eats away at the best parts of us because we must use all our energy to appear happy, even though we will never be able to deceive ourselves. But we insist, every morning, on showing only the rose that blooms, and keep the thorny stem that hurts us and makes us bleed hidden within. Even knowing that everyone, at some point, has felt completely and utterly alone, it is humiliating to say, “I’m lonely, I need company. I need to kill this monster that everyone thinks is as imaginary as a fairy-tale dragon, but isn’t.” But it isn’t. I wait for a pure and virtuous knight, in all his glory, to come defeat it and push it into the abyss for good, but that knight never comes. Yet we cannot lose hope. We start doing things we don’t usually do, daring to go beyond what is fair and necessary. The thorns inside us will grow larger and more overwhelming, yet we cannot give up halfway. Everyone is looking to see the final outcome, as though life were a huge game of chess. We pretend it doesn’t matter whether we win or lose, the important thing is to compete. We root for our true feelings to stay opaque and hidden, but then … … instead of looking for companionship, we isolate ourselves even more in order to lick our wounds in silence. Or we go out for dinner or lunch with people who have nothing to do with our lives and spend the whole time talking about things that are of no importance. We even manage to distract ourselves for a while with drink and celebration, but the dragon lives on until the people who are close to us see that something is wrong and begin to blame themselves for not making us happy. They ask what the problem is. We say that everything is fine, but it’s not … Everything is awful. Please, leave me alone, because I have no more tears to cry or heart left to suffer. All I have is insomnia, emptiness, and apathy, and, if you just ask yourselves, you’re feeling the same thing. But they insist that this is just a rough patch or depression because they are afraid to use the real and damning word: loneliness. Meanwhile, we continue to relentlessly pursue the only thing that would make us happy: the knight in shining armor who will slay the dragon, pick the rose, and clip the thorns. Many claim that life is unfair. Others are happy because they believe that this is exactly what we deserve: loneliness, unhappiness. Because we have everything and they don’t. But one day those who are blind begin to see. Those who are sad are comforted. Those who suffer are saved. The knight arrives to rescue us, and life is vindicated once again. Still, you have to lie and cheat, because this time the circumstances are different. Who hasn’t felt the urge to drop everything and go in search of their dream? A dream is always risky, for there is a price to pay. That price is death by stoning in some countries, and in others it could be social ostracism or indifference. But there is always a price to pay. You keep lying and people pretend they still believe, but secretly they are jealous, make comments behind your back, say you’re the very worst, most threatening thing there is. You are not an adulterous man, tolerated and often even admired, but an adulterous woman, one who is ... ~ Paulo Coelho,
895:You seem disappointed that I am not more responsive to your interest in "spiritual direction". Actually, I am more than a little ambivalent about the term, particularly in the ways it is being used so loosely without any sense of knowledge of the church's traditions in these matters.

If by spiritual direction you mean entering into a friendship with another person in which an awareness and responsiveness to God's Spirit in the everydayness of your life is cultivated, fine. Then why call in an awkward term like "spiritual direction"? Why not just "friend"?

Spiritual direction strikes me as pretentious in these circumstances, as if there were some expertise that can be acquired more or less on its own and then dispensed on demand.

The other reason for my lack of enthusiasm is my well-founded fear of professionalism in any and all matters of the Christian life. Or maybe the right label for my fear is "functionalism". The moment an aspect of Christian living (human life, for that matter) is defined as a role, it is distorted, debased - and eventually destroyed. We are brothers and sisters with one another, friends and lovers, saints and sinners.

The irony here is that the rise of interest in spiritual direction almost certainly comes from the proliferation of role-defined activism in our culture. We are sick and tired of being slotted into a function and then manipulated with Scripture and prayer to do what someone has decided (often with the help of some psychological testing) that we should be doing to bring glory to some religious enterprise or other. And so when people begin to show up who are interested in us just as we are - our souls - we are ready to be paid attention to in this prayerful, listening, non-manipulative, nonfunctional way. Spiritual direction.

But then it begins to develop a culture and language and hierarchy all its own. It becomes first a special interest, and then a specialization. That is what seems to be happening in the circles you are frequenting. I seriously doubt that it is a healthy (holy) line to be pursuing.

Instead, why don't you look over the congregation on Sundays and pick someone who appears to be mature and congenial. Ask her or him if you can meet together every month or so - you feel the need to talk about your life in the company of someone who believes that Jesus is present and active in everything you are doing. Reassure the person that he or she doesn't have to say anything "wise". You only want them to be there for you to listen and be prayerful in the listening. After three or four such meetings, write to me what has transpired, and we'll discuss it further.

I've had a number of men and women who have served me in this way over the years - none carried the title "spiritual director", although that is what they have been. Some had never heard of such a term. When I moved to Canada a few years ago and had to leave a long-term relationship of this sort, I looked around for someone whom I could be with in this way. I picked a man whom I knew to be a person of integrity and prayer, with seasoned Christian wisdom in his bones. I anticipated that he would disqualify himself. So I pre-composed my rebuttal: "All I want you to do is two things: show up and shut up. Can you do that? Meet with me every six weeks or so, and just be there - an honest, prayerful presence with no responsibility to be anything other than what you have become in your obedient lifetime." And it worked. If that is what you mean by "spiritual director," okay. But I still prefer "friend".

You can see now from my comments that my gut feeling is that the most mature and reliable Christian guidance and understanding comes out of the most immediate and local of settings. The ordinary way. We have to break this cultural habit of sending out for an expert every time we feel we need some assistance. Wisdom is not a matter of expertise.

The peace of the Lord,
Eugene ~ Eugene H Peterson,
896:He tore his mouth from her eager lips to whisper, “Juliet…ah, sweeting…”
Only he had ever called her sweeting. “Morgan…” she whispered back.
He froze. Jerking back from her, he stared uncomprehending into her eyes. Then his face drained of heat as suddenly as hot iron dunked in water. He dropped his hands from her. “What the devil am I doing? I must be mad…”
Pivoting away, he leaned over to brace his fists on the table. His shoulders shook from the force of his sharp, heavy breaths.
“Morgan?” She stepped forward to lay her hand on his back.
He flinched at her touch. “Don’t ever call me that again. Call me Sebastian or Lord Templemore, but never Morgan. I’m not him!” He whirled to face her once more. His haunted eyes gleamed in the dimness, and his features were twisted into anger. “I think I’ve proved that sufficiently.”
His denial struck a dagger to her heart, and she began to tremble. Surely, he didn’t mean to continue in his lies after what they’d just shared. How could he? “Please, Morgan, don’t-“
“I’m not Morgan!” He glanced away. “I’m not.” Only his shaky hand shoving his beautiful, thick hair from his face belied his seeming control. “And another thing: no woman ruined by a man waits two years to hunt him down when her family is spoiling for vengeance. She doesn’t hide the truth from them, and she doesn’t come in secret to accuse her supposed debaucher.”
His gaze swung back to her as he dropped his voice. “She certainly doesn’t let him kiss her intimately. Your encounter with my brother wasn’t ‘wicked’ at all, was it? This was merely another of your little tests.”
He did mean to deny it all! Of all the infernal, dastardly-
“But now you should realize,” he went on, twisting the dagger, “that your attempts to paint me the villain are pointless. I’m not the man you seek. You’ll never prove I am.”
If she’d had one of his horrible weapons in her hand right now, he’d be dead for certain. That he could stand here and kiss her with such passion, then deny that it meant anything, deny their entire past together, while she still tasted him on her lips…
Very well, she could play that game. Lord knows she’d seen enough games played in society to manage one of her own. If that’s what it took to make him confess the truth. “You’re right. It was a test. But you passed.”
Her sudden change of tactic made him eye her with suspicion. “I did?”
“Certainly. First, by your reaction to my calling you Morgan. And second, because you kiss nothing like him.”
“You mean because he didn’t kiss you intimately.”
“No. Because he put more feeling into it. Like the rogue he was, Morgan kissed with great abandon.” She’d die before she admitted that his lordship had gone the same. If he could deceive her without remorse, he deserved this. “Of course, that’s to be expected of a reckless adventurer. His sort excel at inflaming women’s passions. Whereas you-“ She broke off, as if the rest were perfectly obvious.
He gazed at her mulishly. “Whereas I what?”
“You’re a gentleman, of course. You’re much too proper to kiss recklessly, and certainly you’d never attempt to inflame a woman’s passion.”
“You can’t tell me that my brother kissed you with more passion, for I know otherwise. His kiss was-“ He broke off, realizing his error too late. “You’ve already said that his kisses were perfectly chaste.”
Aha! Finally she’d pierced his infernal armor. She hadn’t told him there’d been only one kiss; he’d slipped up already. Let him believe she’d given up her suspicions-it would lull him into lowering his guard. She’d use his own arrogance against him, batter his pride at every opportunity with “perfectly innocent” comments about the past.
She shrugged. “Chaste? Well, that’s a different matter entirely. His kiss may have been ‘chaste,’ as you put it, but it was still thrilling.” She could hardly suppress her smile at the lovely effect her words had on Lord Templemore. He looked positively offended. ~ Sabrina Jeffries,
897:When the time comes, & I hope it comes soon, to bury this era of moral rot & the defiling of our communal, social, & democratic norms, the perfect epitaph for the gravestone of this age of unreason should be Iowa Senator Chuck Grassley's already infamous quote:
"I think not having the estate tax recognizes the people that are investing... as opposed to those that are just spending every darn penny they have, whether it’s on booze or women or movies.”
Grassley's vision of America, quite frankly, is one I do not recognize. I thought the heart of this great nation was not limited to the ranks of the plutocrats who are whisked through life in chauffeured cars & private jets, whose often inherited riches are passed along to children, many of whom no sacrifice or service is asked. I do not begrudge wealth, but it must come with a humility that money never is completely free of luck. And more importantly, wealth can never be a measure of worth.
I have seen the waitress working the overnight shift at a diner to give her children a better life, & yes maybe even take them to a movie once in awhile - and in her, I see America.
I have seen the public school teachers spending extra time with students who need help & who get no extra pay for their efforts, & in them I see America.
I have seen parents sitting around kitchen tables with stacks of pressing bills & wondering if they can afford a Christmas gift for their children, & in them I see America.
I have seen the young diplomat in a distant foreign capital & the young soldier in a battlefield foxhole, & in them I see America.
I have seen the brilliant graduates of the best law schools who forgo the riches of a corporate firm for the often thankless slog of a district attorney or public defender's office, & in them I see America.
I have seen the librarian reshelving books, the firefighter, police officer, & paramedic in service in trying times, the social worker helping the elderly & infirm, the youth sports coaches, the PTA presidents, & in them I see America.
I have seen the immigrants working a cash register at a gas station or trimming hedges in the frost of an early fall morning, or driving a cab through rush hour traffic to make better lives for their families, & in them I see America.
I have seen the science students unlocking the mysteries of life late at night in university laboratories for little or no pay, & in them I see America.
I have seen the families struggling with a cancer diagnosis, or dementia in a parent or spouse. Amid the struggles of mortality & dignity, in them I see America.
These, & so many other Americans, have every bit as much claim to a government working for them as the lobbyists & moneyed classes. And yet, the power brokers in Washington today seem deaf to these voices. It is a national disgrace of historic proportions.
And finally, what is so wrong about those who must worry about the cost of a drink with friends, or a date, or a little entertainment, to rephrase Senator Grassley's demeaning phrasings? Those who can't afford not to worry about food, shelter, healthcare, education for their children, & all the other costs of modern life, surely they too deserve to be able to spend some of their “darn pennies” on the simple joys of life.
Never mind that almost every reputable economist has called this tax bill a sham of handouts for the rich at the expense of the vast majority of Americans & the future economic health of this nation. Never mind that it is filled with loopholes written by lobbyists. Never mind that the wealthiest already speak with the loudest voices in Washington, & always have. Grassley’s comments open a window to the soul of the current national Republican Party & it it is not pretty. This is not a view of America that I think President Ronald Reagan let alone President Dwight Eisenhower or Teddy Roosevelt would have recognized. This is unadulterated cynicism & a version of top-down class warfare run amok. ~ Dan RatherFacebook 12/4/17 ~ Dan Rather,
898:[An imaginary composer.]

I.

Hist, but a word, fair and soft!
Forth and be judged, Master Hugues!
Answer the question I've put you so oft:
What do you mean by your mountainous fugues?
See, we're alone in the loft,-

II.

I, the poor organist here,
Hugues, the composer of note,
Dead though, and done with, this many a year:
Let's have a colloquy, something to quote,
Make the world prick up its ear!

III.

See, the church empties apace:
Fast they extinguish the lights.
Hallo there, sacristan! Five minutes' grace!
Here's a crank pedal wants setting to rights,
Baulks one of holding the base.

IV.

See, our huge house of the sounds,
Hushing its hundreds at once,
Bids the last loiterer back to his bounds!
O you may challenge them, not a response
Get the church-saints on their rounds!

V.

(Saints go their rounds, who shall doubt?
-March, with the moon to admire,
Up nave, down chancel, turn transept about,
Supervise all betwixt pavement and spire,
Put rats and mice to the rout-

VI.

Aloys and Jurien and Just-
Order things back to their place,
Have a sharp eye lest the candlesticks rust,
Rub the church-plate, darn the sacrament-lace,
Clear the desk-velvet of dust.)

VII.

Here's your book, younger folks shelve!
Played I not off-hand and runningly,
Just now, your masterpiece, hard number twelve?
Here's what should strike, could one handle it cunningly:
HeIp the axe, give it a helve!

VIII.

Page after page as I played,
Every bar's rest, where one wipes
Sweat from one's brow, I looked up and surveyed,
O'er my three claviers yon forest of pipes
Whence you still peeped in the shade.

IX.

Sure you were wishful to speak?
You, with brow ruled like a score,
Yes, and eyes buried in pits on each cheek,
Like two great breves, as they wrote them of yore,
Each side that bar, your straight beak!

X.

Sure you said-``Good, the mere notes!
``Still, couldst thou take my intent,
``Know what procured me our Company's votes-
``A master were lauded and sciolists shent,
``Parted the sheep from the goats!''

XI.

Well then, speak up, never flinch!
Quick, ere my candle's a snuff
-Burnt, do you see? to its uttermost inch-
I believe in you, but that's not enough:
Give my conviction a clinch!

XII.

First you deliver your phrase
-Nothing propound, that I see,
Fit in itself for much blame or much praise-
Answered no less, where no answer needs be:
Off start the Two on their ways.

XIII.

Straight must a Third interpose,
Volunteer needlessly help;
In strikes a Fourth, a Fifth thrusts in his nose,
So the cry's open, the kennel's a-yelp,
Argument's hot to the close.

XIV.

One dissertates, he is candid;
Two must discept,has distinguished;
Three helps the couple, if ever yet man did;
Four protests; Five makes a dart at the thing wished:
Back to One, goes the case bandied.

XV.

One says his say with a difference
More of expounding, explaining!
All now is wrangle, abuse, and vociferance;
Now there's a truce, all's subdued, self-restraining :
Five, though, stands out all the stiffer hence.

XVI.

One is incisive, corrosive:
Two retorts, nettled, curt, crepitant;
Three makes rejoinder, expansive, explosive;
Four overbears them all, strident and strepitant,
Five O Danaides, O Sieve!

XVII.

Now, they ply axes and crowbars;
Now, they prick pins at a tissue
Fine as a skein of the casuist Escobar's
Worked on the bone of a lie. To what issue?
Where is our gain at the Two-bars?

XVIII.

Est fuga, volvitur rota.
On we drift: where looms the dim port?
One, Two, Three, Four, Five, contribute their quota;
Something is gained, if one caught but the import-
Show it us, Hugues of Saxe-Gotha!

XIX.

What with affirming, denying,
Holding, risposting, subjoining,
All's like it's like for an instance I'm trying
There! See our roof, its gilt moulding and groining
Under those spider-webs lying!

XX.

So your fugue broadens and thickens,
Greatens and deepens and lengthens,
Till we exclaim-``But where's music, the dickens?
``Blot ye the gold, while your spider-web strengthens
``-Blacked to the stoutest of tickens?''

XXI.

I for man's effort am zealous:
Prove me such censure unfounded!
Seems it surprising a lover grows jealous-
Hopes 'twas for something, his organ-pipes sounded,
Tiring three boys at the bellows?

XXII.

Is it your moral of Life?
Such a web, simple and subtle,
Weave we on earth here in impotent strife,
Backward and forward each throwing his shuttle,
Death ending all with a knife?

XXIII.

Over our heads truth and nature-
Still our life's zigzags and dodges,
Ins and outs, weaving a new legislature-
God's gold just shining its last where that lodges,
Palled beneath man's usurpature.

XXIV.

So we o'ershroud stars and roses,
Cherub and trophy and garland;
Nothings grow something which quietly closes
Heaven's earnest eye: not a glimpse of the far land
Gets through our comments and glozes.

XXV.

Ah but traditions, inventions,
(Say we and make up a visage)
So many men with such various intentions,
Down the past ages, must know more than this age!
Leave we the web its dimensions!

XXVI.

Who thinks Hugues wrote for the deaf,
Proved a mere mountain in labour?
Better submit; try again; what's the clef?
'Faith, 'tis no trifle for pipe and for tabor-
Four flats, the minor in F.

XXVII.

Friend, your fugue taxes the finger
Learning it once, who would lose it?
Yet all the while a misgiving will linger,
Truth's golden o'er us although we refuse it-
Nature, thro' cobwebs we string her.

XXVIII.

Hugues! I advise Me Pn
(Counterpoint glares like a Gorgon)
Bid One, Two, Three, Four, Five, clear the arena!
Say the word, straight I unstop the full-organ,
Blare out the mode Palestrina.

XXIX.

While in the roof, if I'm right there,
Lo you, the wick in the socket!
Hallo, you sacristan, show us a light there!
Down it dips, gone like a rocket.
What, you want, do you, to come unawares,
Sweeping the church up for first morning-prayers,
And find a poor devil has ended his cares
At the foot of your rotten-runged rat-riddled stairs?
Do I carry the moon in my pocket?

A fugue is a short melody.
Keyboard of organ.
A note in music.
The daughters of Danaus, condemned to pour water
into a sieve.
The Spanish casuist, so severely mauled by Pascal.
A closely woven fabric.


~ Robert Browning, Master Hugues Of Saxe-Gotha
,
899:Wild, pale, and wonder-stricken, even as one
Who staggers forth into the air and sun
From the dark chamber of a mortal fever,
Bewildered, and incapable, and ever
Fancying strange comments in her dizzy brain
Of usual shapes, till the familiar train
Of objects and of persons passed like things
Strange as a dreamers mad imaginings,
Ginevra from the nuptial altar went;
The vows to which her lips had sworn assent
Rung in her brain still with a jarring din,
Deafening the lost intelligence within.

And so she moved under the bridal veil,
Which made the paleness of her cheek more pale,
And deepened the faint crimson of her mouth,
And darkened her dark locks, as moonlight doth,--
And of the gold and jewels glittering there
She scarce felt conscious,--but the weary glare
Lay like a chaos of unwelcome light,
Vexing the sense with gorgeous undelight,
A moonbeam in the shadow of a cloud
Was less heavenly fair--her face was bowed,
And as she passed, the diamonds in her hair
Were mirrored in the polished marble stair
Which led from the cathedral to the street;
And ever as she went her light fair feet
Erased these images.

The bride-maidens who round her thronging came,
Some with a sense of self-rebuke and shame,
Envying the unenviable; and others
Making the joy which should have been anothers
Their own by gentle sympathy; and some
Sighing to think of an unhappy home:
Some few admiring what can ever lure
Maidens to leave the heaven serene and pure
Of parents smiles for lifes great cheat; a thing
Bitter to taste, sweet in imagining.

But they are all dispersed--and, lo! she stands
Looking in idle grief on her white hands,
Alone within the garden now her own;
And through the sunny air, with jangling tone,
The music of the merry marriage-bells,
Killing the azure silence, sinks and swells;--
Absorbed like one within a dream who dreams
That he is dreaming, until slumber seems
A mockery of itself--when suddenly
Antonio stood before her, pale as she.
With agony, with sorrow, and with pride,
He lifted his wan eyes upon the bride,
And said--Is this thy faith? and then as one
Whose sleeping face is stricken by the sun
With light like a harsh voice, which bids him rise
And look upon his day of life with eyes
Which weep in vain that they can dream no more,
Ginevra saw her lover, and forbore
To shriek or faint, and checked the stifling blood
Rushing upon her heart, and unsubdued
Said--Friend, if earthly violence or ill,
Suspicion, doubt, or the tyrannic will
Of parents, chance or custom, time or change,
Or circumstance, or terror, or revenge,
Or wildered looks, or words, or evil speech,
With all their stings and venom can impeach
Our love,--we love not:--if the grave which hides
The victim from the tyrant, and divides
The cheek that whitens from the eyes that dart
Imperious inquisition to the heart
That is anothers, could dissever ours,
We love not.--What! do not the silent hours
Beckon thee to Gherardis bridal bed?
Is not that ring--a pledge, he would have said,
Of broken vows, but she with patient look
The golden circle from her finger took,
And said--Accept this token of my faith,
The pledge of vows to be absolved by death;
And I am dead or shall be soonmy knell
Will mix its music with that merry bell,
Does it not sound as if they sweetly said
We toll a corpse out of the marriage-bed?
The flowers upon my bridal chamber strewn
Will serve unfaded for my bierso soon
That even the dying violet will not die
Before Ginevra. The strong fantasy
Had made her accents weaker and more weak,
And quenched the crimson life upon her cheek,
And glazed her eyes, and spread an atmosphere
Round her, which chilled the burning noon with fear,
Making her but an image of the thought
Which, like a prophet or a shadow, brought
News of the terrors of the coming time.
Like an accuser branded with the crime
He would have cast on a beloved friend,
Whose dying eyes reproach not to the end
The pale betrayerhe then with vain repentance
Would share, he cannot now avert, the sentence--
Antonio stood and would have spoken, when
The compound voice of women and of men
Was heard approaching; he retired, while she
Was led amid the admiring company
Back to the palace,--and her maidens soon
Changed her attire for the afternoon,
And left her at her own request to keep
An hour of quiet rest:--like one asleep
With open eyes and folded hands she lay,
Pale in the light of the declining day.

Meanwhile the day sinks fast, the sun is set,
And in the lighted hall the guests are met;
The beautiful looked lovelier in the light
Of love, and admiration, and delight
Reflected from a thousand hearts and eyes,
Kindling a momentary Paradise.
This crowd is safer than the silent wood,
Where loves own doubts disturb the solitude;
On frozen hearts the fiery rain of wine
Falls, and the dew of music more divine
Tempers the deep emotions of the time
To spirits cradled in a sunny clime:--
How many meet, who never yet have met,
To part too soon, but never to forget.
How many saw the beauty, power and wit
Of looks and words which neer enchanted yet;
But lifes familiar veil was now withdrawn,
As the world leaps before an earthquakes dawn,
And unprophetic of the coming hours,
The matin winds from the expanded flowers
Scatter their hoarded incense, and awaken
The earth, until the dewy sleep is shaken
From every living heart which it possesses,
Through seas and winds, cities and wildernesses,
As if the future and the past were all
Treasured i the instant;--so Gherardis hall
Laughed in the mirth of its lords festival,
Till some one asked--Where is the Bride? And then
A bridesmaid went,--and ere she came again
A silence fell upon the guests--a pause
Of expectation, as when beauty awes
All hearts with its approach, though unbeheld;
Then wonder, and then fear that wonder quelled;--
For whispers passed from mouth to ear which drew
The colour from the hearers cheeks, and flew
Louder and swifter round the company;
And then Gherardi entered with an eye
Of ostentatious trouble, and a crowd
Surrounded him, and some were weeping loud.

They found Ginevra dead! if it be death
To lie without motion, or pulse, or breath,
With waxen cheeks, and limbs cold, stiff, and white,
And open eyes, whose fixed and glassy light
Mocked at the speculation they had owned.
If it be death, when there is felt around
A smell of clay, a pale and icy glare,
And silence, and a sense that lifts the hair
From the scalp to the ankles, as it were
Corruption from the spirit passing forth,
And giving all it shrouded to the earth,
And leaving as swift lightning in its flight
Ashes, and smoke, and darkness: in our night
Of thought we know thus much of death,no more
Than the unborn dream of our life before
Their barks are wrecked on its inhospitable shore.
The marriage feast and its solemnity
Was turned to funeral pomp--the company,
With heavy hearts and looks, broke up; nor they
Who loved the dead went weeping on their way
Alone, but sorrow mixed with sad surprise
Loosened the springs of pity in all eyes,
On which that form, whose fate they weep in vain,
Will never, thought they, kindle smiles again.
The lamps which, half extinguished in their haste,
Gleamed few and faint oer the abandoned feast,
Showed as it were within the vaulted room
A cloud of sorrow hanging, as if gloom
Had passed out of mens minds into the air.
Some few yet stood around Gherardi there,
Friends and relations of the dead,--and he,
A loveless man, accepted torpidly
The consolation that he wanted not;
Awe in the place of grief within him wrought.
Their whispers made the solemn silence seem
More still--some wept,...
Some melted into tears without a sob,
And some with hearts that might be heard to throb
Leaned on the table and at intervals
Shuddered to hear through the deserted halls
And corridors the thrilling shrieks which came
Upon the breeze of night, that shook the flame
Of every torch and taper as it swept
From out the chamber where the women kept;--
Their tears fell on the dear companion cold
Of pleasures now departed; then was knolled
The bell of death, and soon the priests arrived,
And finding Death their penitent had shrived,
Returned like ravens from a corpse whereon
A vulture has just feasted to the bone.
And then the mourning women came.--

...

THE DIRGE.
Old winter was gone
In his weakness back to the mountains hoar,
And the spring came down
From the planet that hovers upon the shore

Where the sea of sunlight encroaches
On the limits of wintry night;--
If the land, and the air, and the sea,
Rejoice not when spring approaches,
We did not rejoice in thee,
Ginevra!

She is still, she is cold
On the bridal couch,
One step to the white deathbed,
And one to the bier,
And one to the charnel--and one, oh where?
The dark arrow fled
In the noon.

Ere the sun through heaven once more has rolled,
The rats in her heart
Will have made their nest,
And the worms be alive in her golden hair,
While the Spirit that guides the sun,
Sits throned in his flaming chair,
She shall sleep.

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley, Ginevra
,
900:financially and employed him as his unofficial secretary.
In March 768, he began his journey again and got as far as Hunan province,
where he died in Tanzhou (now Changsha) in November or December 770, in his
58th year. He was survived by his wife and two sons, who remained in the area
for some years at least. His last known descendant is a grandson who requested
a grave inscription for the poet from Yuan Zhen in 813.
Hung summarises his life by concluding that, "He appeared to be a filial son, an
affectionate father, a generous brother, a faithful husband, a loyal friend, a
dutiful official, and a patriotic subject."
Works
Criticism of ~ Du Fu



's works has focused on his strong sense of history, his moral
engagement, and his technical excellence.
History
Since the Song dynasty, critics have called ~ Du Fu



the "poet historian". The most
directly historical of his poems are those commenting on military tactics or the
successes and failures of the government, or the poems of advice which he wrote
to the emperor. Indirectly, he wrote about the effect of the times in which he
lived on himself, and on the ordinary people of China. As Watson notes, this is
information "of a kind seldom found in the officially compiled histories of the
era".
~ Du Fu



's political comments are based on emotion rather than calculation: his
prescriptions have been paraphrased as, "Let us all be less selfish, let us all do
what we are supposed to do". Since his views were impossible to disagree with,
his forcefully expressed truisms enabled his installation as the central figure of
Chinese poetic history.
Moral engagement
A second favourite epithet of Chinese critics is that of "poet sage" (?? shi shèng),
a counterpart to the philosophical sage, Confucius. One of the earliest surviving
works, The Song of the Wagons (from around 750), gives voice to the sufferings
of a conscript soldier in the imperial army, even before the beginning of the
rebellion; this poem brings out the tension between the need of acceptance and
fulfilment of one's duties, and a clear-sighted consciousness of the suffering
which this can involve. These themes are continuously articulated in the poems
on the lives of both soldiers and civilians which ~ Du Fu



produced throughout his
life.
Although ~ Du Fu



's frequent references to his own difficulties can give the
impression of an all-consuming solipsism, Hawkes argues that his "famous
compassion in fact includes himself, viewed quite objectively and almost as an
afterthought". He therefore "lends grandeur" to the wider picture by comparing it
to "his own slightly comical triviality".
~ Du Fu



's compassion, for himself and for others, was part of his general
broadening of the scope of poetry: he devoted many works to topics which had
previously been considered unsuitable for poetic treatment. Zhang Jie wrote that
for ~ Du Fu



, "everything in this world is poetry", and he wrote extensively on
subjects such as domestic life, calligraphy, paintings, animals, and other poems.
Technical excellence
~ Du Fu



's work is notable above all for its range. Chinese critics traditionally used
the term txt (jídàchéng- "complete symphony"), a reference to Mencius'
description of Confucius. Yuan Zhen was the first to note the breadth of ~ Du Fu



's
achievement, writing in 813 that his predecessor, "united in his work traits which
previous men had displayed only singly". He mastered all the forms of Chinese
poetry: Chou says that in every form he "either made outstanding advances or
contributed outstanding examples". Furthermore, his poems use a wide range of
registers, from the direct and colloquial to the allusive and self-consciously
literary. This variety is manifested even within individual works: Owen identifies
the, "rapid stylistic and thematic shifts" in poems which enable the poet to
represent different facets of a situation, while Chou uses the term "juxtaposition"
as the major analytical tool in her work. ~ Du Fu



is noted for having written more
on poetics and painting than any other writer of his time. He wrote eighteen
poems on painting alone, more than any other Tang poet. ~ Du Fu



's seemingly
negative commentary on the prized horse paintings of Han Gan ignited a
controversy that has persisted to the present day.
The tenor of his work changed as he developed his style and adapted to his
surroundings ("chameleon-like" according to Watson): his earliest works are in a
relatively derivative, courtly style, but he came into his own in the years of the
rebellion. Owen comments on the "grim simplicity" of the Qinzhou poems, which
mirrors the desert landscape; the works from his Chengdu period are "light, often
finely observed"; while the poems from the late Kuizhou period have a "density
and power of vision".
Influence
According to the Encyclopædia Britannica, ~ Du Fu



's writings are considered by
many literary critics to be among the greatest of all time, and it states "his
dense, compressed language makes use of all the connotative overtones of a
phrase and of all the intonational potentials of the individual word, qualities that
no translation can ever reveal."
In his lifetime and immediately following his death, ~ Du Fu



was not greatly
appreciated. In part this can be attributed to his stylistic and formal innovations,
some of which are still "considered extremely daring and bizarre by Chinese
critics." There are few contemporary references to him—only eleven poems from
six writers—and these describe him in terms of affection, but not as a paragon of
poetic or moral ideals. ~ Du Fu



is also poorly represented in contemporary
anthologies of poetry.
However, as Hung notes, he "is the only Chinese poet whose influence grew with
time", and his works began to increase in popularity in the ninth century. Early
positive comments came from Bai Juyi, who praised the moral sentiments of
some of ~ Du Fu



's works (although he found these in only a small fraction of the
poems), and from Han Yu, who wrote a piece defending ~ Du Fu



and Li Bai on
aesthetic grounds from attacks made against them. Both these writers showed
the influence of ~ Du Fu



in their own poetic work. By the beginning of the 10th
century, Wei Zhuang constructed the first replica of his thatched cottage in
Sichuan.
It was in the 11th century, during the Northern Song era that ~ Du Fu



's reputation
reached its peak. In this period a comprehensive re-evaluation of earlier poets
took place, in which Wang Wei, Li Bai and ~ Du Fu



came to be regarded as
representing respectively the Buddhist, Daoist and Confucian strands of Chinese
culture. At the same time, the development of Neo-Confucianism ensured that
~ Du Fu



, as its poetic exemplar, occupied the paramount position. Su Shi famously
expressed this reasoning when he wrote that ~ Du Fu



was "preeminent...
because... through all his vicissitudes, he never for the space of a meal forgot his
sovereign". His influence was helped by his ability to reconcile apparent
opposites: political conservatives were attracted by his loyalty to the established
order, while political radicals embraced his concern for the poor. Literary
conservatives could look to his technical mastery, while literary radicals were
inspired by his innovations. Since the establishment of the People's Republic of
China, ~ Du Fu



's loyalty to the state and concern for the poor have been
interpreted as embryonic nationalism and socialism, and he has been praised for
his use of simple, "people's language".
~ Du Fu



's popularity grew to such an extent that it is as hard to measure his
influence as that of Shakespeare in England: it was hard for any Chinese poet not
to be influenced by him. While there was never another ~ Du Fu



, individual poets
followed in the traditions of specific aspects of his work: Bai Juyi's concern for the
poor, Lu You's patriotism, and Mei Yaochen's reflections on the quotidian are a
few examples. More broadly, ~ Du Fu



's work in transforming the lushi from mere
word play into "a vehicle for serious poetic utterance" set the stage for every
subsequent writer in the genre.
~ Du Fu



has also been influential beyond China, although in common with the other
High Tang poets, his reception into the Japanese literary culture was relatively
late. It was not until the 17th century that he was accorded the same level of
fame in Japan as in China, but he then had a profound influence on poets such as
Matsuo Basho. In the 20th century, he was the favourite poet of Kenneth
Rexroth, who has described him as "the greatest non-epic, non-dramatic poet
who has survived in any language", and commented that, "he has made me a
better man, as a moral agent and as a perceiving organism".
A Homeless Man's Departure
After the Rebellion of 755, all was silent wasteland,
gardens and cottages turned to grass and thorns.
My village had over a hundred households,
but the chaotic world scattered them east and west.
No information about the survivors;
the dead are dust and mud.
I, a humble soldier, was defeated in battle.
I ran back home to look for old roads
and walked a long time through the empty lanes.
The sun was thin, the air tragic and dismal.
I met only foxes and raccoons,
their hair on end as they snarled in rage.
Who remains in my neighborhood?
One or two old widows.
A returning bird loves its old branches,
how could I give up this poor nest?
In spring I carry my hoe all alone,
yet still water the land at sunset.
The county governor's clerk heard I'd returned
and summoned me to practice the war-drum.
This military service won't take me from my state.
I look around and have no one to worry about.
It's just me alone and the journey is short,
but I will end up lost if I travel too far.
Since my village has been washed away,
near or far makes no difference.
I will forever feel pain for my long-sick mother.
I abandoned her in this valley five years ago.
She gave birth to me, yet I could not help her.
We cry sour sobs till our lives end.
In my life I have no family to say farewell to,
so how can I be called a human being?
~ Du Fu,
901:SCENE I. An Ante-chamber in the Castle.
Enter LUDOLPH and SIGIFRED.
Ludolph. No more advices, no more cautioning:
I leave it all to fate to any thing!
I cannot square my conduct to time, place,
Or circumstances; to me 'tis all a mist!
Sigifred. I say no more.
Ludolph. It seems I am to wait
Here in the ante-room; that may be a trifle.
You see now how I dance attendance here,
Without that tyrant temper, you so blame,
Snapping the rein. You have medicin'd me
With good advices; and I here remain,
In this most honourable ante-room,
Your patient scholar.
Sigifred. Do not wrong me, Prince.
By Heavens, I'd rather kiss Duke Conrad's slipper,
When in the morning he doth yawn with pride,
Than see you humbled but a half-degree!
Truth is, the Emperor would fain dismiss
The nobles ere he sees you.
Enter GONFRED from the Council-room.
Ludolph. Well, sir! What?
Gonfred. Great honour to the Prince! The Emperor,
Hearing that his brave son had re-appeared,
Instant dismiss 'd the Council from his sight,
As Jove fans off the clouds. Even now they pass.
[Exit.
Enter the Nobles from the Council-room. They cross the stage,
bowing unth respect to LUDOLPH, he frowning on them.
CONRAD follows. Exeunt Nobles.
Ludolph. Not the discoloured poisons of a fen,
Which he who breathes feels warning of his death,
Could taste so nauseous to the bodily sense,
As these prodigious sycophants disgust
The soul's fine palate.
Conrad. Princely Ludolph, hail!
Welcome, thou younger sceptre to the realm!
Strength to thy virgin crownet's golden buds,
That they, against the winter of thy sire,
May burst, and swell, and flourish round thy brows,
Maturing to a weighty diadem!
Yet be that hour far off; and may he live,
Who waits for thee, as the chapp'd earth for rain.
Set my life's star! I have lived long enough,
Since under my glad roof, propitiously,
Father and son each other re-possess.
Ludolph. Fine wording, Duke! but words could never yet
Forestall the fates; have you not learnt that yet?
Let me look well: your features are the same;
Your gait the same; your hair of the same shade;
As one I knew some passed weeks ago,
Who sung far different notes into mine ears.
I have mine own particular comments on 't;
You have your own, perhaps.
Conrad. My gracious Prince,
All men may err. In truth I was deceived
In your great father's nature, as you were.
Had I known that of him I have since known,
And what you soon will learn, I would have turned
My sword to my own throat, rather than held
Its threatening edge against a good King's quiet:
Or with one word fever'd you, gentle Prince,
Who seem'd to me, as rugged times then went,
Indeed too much oppress'd. May I be bold
To tell the Emperor you will haste to him?
Ludolph. Your Dukedom's privilege will grant so much.
[Exit CONRAD
He's very close to Otho, a tight leech!
Your hand I go. Ha! here the thunder comes
Sullen against the wind! If in two angry brows
My safety lies, then Sigifred, I'm safe.
Enter OTHO and CONRAD.
Otho. Will you make Titan play the lackey-page &
To chattering pigmies? I would have you know
That such neglect of our high Majesty
Annuls all feel of kindred. What is son,
Or friend, or brother, or all ties of blood,
When the whole kingdom, centred in ourself,
Is rudely slighted ? Who am I to wait ?
By Peter's chair! I have upon my tongue
A word to fright the proudest spirit here!
Death! and slow tortures to the hardy fool,
Who dares take such large charter from our smiles!
Conrad, we would be private. Sigifred!
Off! And none pass this way on pain of death!
[Exeunt CONRAD and SIGIFRED,
Ludolph. This was but half expected, my good sire,
Yet I am griev'd at it, to the full height,
As though my hopes of favour had been whole.
Otho. How you indulge yourself! What can you hope for?
Ludolph. Nothing, my liege ; I have to hope for nothing.
I come to greet you as a loving son,
And then depart, if I may be so free,
Seeing that blood of yours in my warm veins
Has not yet mitigated into milk.
Otho. What would you, sir?
Ludolph. A lenient banishment;
So please you let me unmolested pass
This Conrad's gates, to the wide air again.
I want no more. A rebel wants no more.
Otho. And shall I let a rebel loose again
To muster kites and eagles 'gainst my head?
No, obstinate boy, you shall be kept cag'd up,
Serv'd with harsh food, with scum for Sunday-drink.
Ludolph. Indeed!
Otho. And chains too heavy for your life:
I'll choose a gaoler, whose swart monstrous face
Shall be a hell to look upon, and she
Ludolph. Ha!
Otho. Shall be your fair Auranthe.
Ludolph. Amaze! Amaze!
Otho. To-day you marry her.
Ludolph. This is a sharp jest!
Otho. No. None at all. When have I said a lie?
Ludolph. If I sleep not, I am a waking wretch.
Otho. Not a word more. Let me embrace my child.
Ludolph. I dare not. 'Twould pollute so good a father!
heavy crime! that your son's blinded eyes
Could not see all his parent's love aright,
As now I see it. Be not kind to me
Punish me not with favour.
Otho. Are you sure,
Ludolph, you have no saving plea in store?
Ludolph. My father, none!
Otho. Then you astonish me.
Ludolph. No, I have no plea. Disobedience,
Rebellion, obstinacy, blasphemy,
Are all my counsellors. If they can make
My crooked deeds show good and plausible,
Then grant me loving pardon, but not else,
Good Gods! not else, in any way, my liege!
Otho. You are a most perplexing, noble boy.
Ludolph. You not less a perplexing noble father.
Otho. Well, you shall have free passport through the gates.
Farewell!
Ludolph. Farewell! and by these tears believe,
And still remember, I repent in pain
All my misdeeds!
Otho. Ludolph, I will! I will!
But, Ludolph, ere you go, I would enquire
If you, in all your wandering, ever met
A certain Arab haunting in these parts.
Ludolph. No, my good lord, I cannot say I did.
Otho. Make not your father blind before his time;
Nor let these arms paternal hunger more
For an embrace, to dull the appetite
Of my great love for thee, my supreme child!
Come close, and let me breathe into thine ear.
knew you through disguise. You are the Arab!
You can't deny it. [Embracing him.
Ludolph. Happiest of days!
Otho. We'll make it so.
Ludolph. 'Stead of one fatted calf
Ten hecatombs shall bellow out their last,
Smote 'twixt the horns by the death-stunning mace
Of Mars, and all the soldiery shall feast
Nobly as Nimrod's masons, when the towers
Of Nineveh new kiss'd the parted clouds!
Otho. Large as a God speak out, where all is thine.
Ludolph. Aye, father, but the fire in my sad breast
Is quench 'd with inward tears! I must rejoice
For you, whose wings so shadow over me
In tender victory, but for myself
I still must mourn. The fair Auranthe mine!
Too great a boon! I prythee let me ask I
What more than I know of could so have changed
Your purpose touching her?
Otho. At a word, this:
In no deed did you give me more offense
Than your rejection of Erminia.
To my appalling, I saw too good proof
Of your keen-eyed suspicion, she is naught!
Ludolph. You are convinced?
Otho. Aye, spite of her sweet looks.
O, that my brother's daughter should so fall!
Her fame has pass'd into the grosser lips
Of soldiers in their cups.
Lndolph. 'Tis very sad.
Otho. No more of her. Auranthe Ludolph, come!
This marriage be the bond of endless peace! [Exeunt.
SCENE II. The Entrance of GERSA'S Tent in the Hungarian Camp.
Enter ERMINIA.
Erminia. Where! where! where shall I find a messenger?
A trusty soul? A good man in the camp?
Shall I go myself? Monstrous wickedness!
O cursed Conrad devilish Auranthe!
Here is proof palpable as the bright sun!
O for a voice to reach the Emperor's ears!
[Shouts in the Camp.
Enter an HUNGARIAN CAPTAIN.
Captain. Fair prisoner, hear you those joyous shouts?
The king aye, now our king, but still your slave,
Young Gersa, from a short captivity
Has just return'd. He bids me say, bright Dame,
That even the homage of his ranged chiefs
Cures not his keen impatience to behold
Such beauty once again. What ails you, lady?
Erminia. Say, is not that a German, yonder? There!
Captain. Methinks by his stout bearing he should be
Yes 'tis one Albert; a brave German knight,
And much in the emperor's favour.
Erminia. I would fain
Enquire of friends and kinsfolk; how they fared
In these rough times. Brave soldier, as you pass
To royal Gersa with my humble thanks,
Will you send yonder knight to me?
Captain. I will. [Exit.
Ermina. Yes, he was ever known to be a man
Frank, open, generous; Albert I may trust.
proof! proof! proof! Albert's an honest man;
Not Ethelbert the monk, if he were here,
Would I hold more trustworthy. Now!
Enter ALBERT.
Albert. Good Gods!
Lady Erminia! are you prisoner
In this beleaguer 'd camp? Or are you here
Of your own will? You pleas'd to send for me.
By Venus, 'tis a pity I knew not
Your plight before, and, by her Son, I swear
To do you every service you can ask.
What would the fairest?
Erminia. Albert, will you swear?
Albert. I have. Well?
Erminia. Albert, you have fame to lose.
If men, in court and camp, lie not outright,
You should be, from a thousand, chosen forth
To do an honest deed. Shall I confide?
Albert. Aye, anything to me, fair creature. Do;
Dictate my task. Sweet woman,
Erminia. Truce with that.
You understand me not; and, in your speech,
see how far the slander is abroad.
Without proof could you think me innocent?
Albert. Lady, I should rejoice to know you so.
Erminia. If you have any pity for a maid,
Suffering a daily death from evil tongues;
Any compassion for that Emperor's niece,
Who, for your bright sword and clear honesty,
Lifted you from the crowd of common men
Into the lap of honour; save me, knight!
Albert. How? Make it clear; if it be possible,
I, by the banner of Saint Maurice, swear
To right you.
Erminia. Possible! Easy. O my heart!
This letter's not so soil'd but you may read it;
Possible! There that letter! Read read it,
[Gives him a letter.
Albert (reading). "To the Duke Conrad. Forget the threat you
made at parting, and I will forget to send the Emperor letters and
papers of your's I have become possessed of. His life is no trifle to
me; his death you shall find none to yourself." (Speaks to himself
Tis me my life that's pleaded for! (Reads.) "He, for his
own sake, will be dumb as the grave. Erminia has my shame fix'd
upon her, sure as a wen. We are safe.
AURANTHE."A she-devil! A dragon! I her imp!
Fire of Hell! Auranthe lewd demon!
Where got you this? Where? When?
Erminia. I found it in the tent, among some spoils
Which, being noble, fell to Gersa's lot.
Come in, and see. [They go in and return.
Albert. Villainy! Villainy!
Conrad's sword, his corslet, and his helm,
And his letter. Caitiff, he shall feel
Erminia. I see you are thunderstruck. Haste, haste away!
Albert. O I am tortured by this villainy.
Erminia. You needs must be. Carry it swift to Otho;
Tell him, moreover, I am prisoner
Here in this camp, where all the sisterhood,
Forc'd from their quiet cells, are parcell'd out
For slaves among these Huns. Away! Away!
Albert. I am gone.
Erminia. Swift be your steed! Within this hour
The Emperor will see it.
Albert. Ere I sleep:
That I can swear. [Hurries out.
Gersa (without). Brave captains! thanks. Enough
Of loyal homage now!
Enter GERSA.
Erminia. Hail, royal Hun!
Gersa. What means this, fair one? Why in such alarm?
Who was it hurried by me so distract?
It seem'd you were in deep discourse together;
Your doctrine has not been so harsh to him
As to my poor deserts. Come, come, be plain.
I am no jealous fool to kill you both,
Or, for such trifles, rob the adorned world
Of such a beauteous vestal.
Erminia. I grieve, my Lord,
To hear you condescend to ribald phrase.
Gersa. This is too much! Hearken, my lady pure!
Erminia. Silence! and hear the magic of a name
Erminia! I am she, the Emperor's niece!
Prais'd be the Heavens, I now dare own myself!
Gersa. Erminia! Indeed! I've heard of her.
Prythee, fair lady, what chance brought you here?
Erminia. Ask your own soldiers.
Gersa. And you dare own your name.
For loveliness you may and for the rest
My vein is not censorious.
Erminia. Alas! poor me!
Tis false indeed.
Gersa. Indeed you are too fair:
the swan, soft leaning on her fledgy breast,
When to the stream she launches, looks not back
With such a tender grace ; nor are her wings
So white as your soul is, if that but be
Twin-picture to your face. Erminia!
To-day, for the first day, I am a king,
Yet would I give my unworn crown away
To know you spotless.
Erminia. Trust me one day more,
Generously, without more certain guarantee,
Than this poor face you deign to praise so much;
After that, say and do whate'er you please.
If I have any knowledge of you, sir,
I think, nay I am sure, you will grieve much
To hear my story. O be gentle to me,
For I am sick and faint with many wrongs,
Tir'd out, and weary-worn with contumelies.
Gersa. Poor lady!
Enter ETHELBERT.
Erminia. Gentle Prince, 'tis false indeed.
Good morrow, holy father! I have had
Your prayers, though I look'd for you in vain.
Ethelbert. Blessings upon you, daughter! Sure you look
Too cheerful for these foul pernicious days.
Young man, you heard this virgin say 'twas false,
Tis false, I say. What! can you not employ
Your temper elsewhere, 'mong these burly tents,
But you must taunt this dove, for she hath lost
The Eagle Otho to beat off assault?
Fie! fie! But I will be her guard myself;
In the Emperor's name. I here demand of you
Herself, and all her sisterhood. She false!
Gersa. Peace! peace, old man! I cannot think she is.
Ethelbert. Whom I have known from her first infancy,
Baptized her in the bosom of the Church,
Watch'd her, as anxious husbandmen the grain,
From the first shoot till the unripe mid-May,
Then to the tender ear of her June days,
Which, lifting sweet abroad its timid green,
Is blighted by the touch of calumny;
You cannot credit such a monstrous tale.
Gersa. I cannot. Take her. Fair Erminia,
I follow you to Friedburg, is't not so?
Erminia. Aye, so we purpose.
Ethelbert. Daughter, do you so?
How's this? I marvel! Yet you look not mad.
Erminia. I have good news to tell you, Ethelbert.
Gersa. Ho! ho, there! Guards!
Your blessing, father! Sweet Erminia,
Believe me, I am well nigh sure
Erminia . Farewell!
Short time will show. [Enter Chiefs.
Yes, father Ethelbert,
I have news precious as we pass along.
Ethelbert. Dear daughter, you shall guide me.
Erminia. To no ill.
Gersa. Command an escort to the Friedburg lines.
[Exeunt Chiefs.
Pray let me lead. Fair lady, forget not
Gersa, how he believ'd you innocent.
I follow you to Friedburg with all speed. [Exeunt.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ John Keats, Otho The Great - Act II
,
902: ON THE GIFT-GIVING VIRTUE
1

When Zarathustra had said farewell to the town to
which his heart was attached, and which was named
The Motley Cow, many who called themselves his disciples followed him and escorted him. Thus they came
to a crossroads; then Zarathustra told them that he now
wanted to walk alone, for he liked to walk alone. His
disciples gave him as a farewell present a staff with a
golden handle on which a serpent coiled around the
sun. Zarathustra was delighted with the staff and leaned
on it; then he spoke thus to his disciples:
Tell me: how did gold attain the highest value? Because it is uncommon and useless and gleaming and
gentle in its splendor; it always gives itself. Only as the
image of the highest virtue did gold attain the highest
value. Goldlike gleam the eyes of the giver. Golden
splendor makes peace between moon and sun. Uncommon is the highest virtue and useless; it is gleaming and
gentle in its splendor: a gift-giving virtue is the highest
virtue.
Verily, I have found you out, my disciples: you strive,
as I do, for the gift-giving virtue. What would you have
in common with cats and wolves? This is your thirst: to
75
become sacrifices and gifts yourselves; and that is why
you thirst to pile up all the riches in your soul. Insatiably your soul strives for treasures and gems, because
your virtue is insatiable in wanting to give. You force
all things to and into yourself that they may flow back
out of your well as the gifts of your love. Verily, such
a gift-giving love must approach all values as a robber;
but whole and holy I call this selfishness.
There is also another selfishness, an all-too-poor and
hungry one that always wants to steal-the selfishness
of the sick: sick selfishness. With the eyes of a thief it
looks at everything splendid; with the greed of hunger
it sizes up those who have much to eat; and always it
sneaks around the table of those who give. Sickness
speaks out of such craving and invisible degeneration;
the thievish greed of this selfishness speaks of a diseased
body.
Tell me, my brothers: what do we consider bad and
worst of all? Is it not degeneration?And it is degeneration that we always infer where the gift-giving soul is
lacking. Upward goes our way, from genus to overgenus. But we shudder at the degenerate sense which
says, "Everything for me." Upward flies our sense: thus
it is a parable of our body, a parable of elevation.
Parables of such elevations are the names of the virtues.
Thus the body goes through history, becoming and
fighting. And the spirit-what is that to the body? The
herald of its fights and victories, companion and echo.
All names of good and evil are parables: they do not
define, they merely hint. A fool is he who wants knowledge of them!
Watch for every hour, my brothers, in which your
spirit wants to speak in parables: there lies the origin
of your virtue. There your body is elevated and resurrected; with its rapture it delights the spirit so that it
76
turns creator and esteemer and lover and benefactor of
all things.
When your heart flows broad and full like a river, a
blessing and a danger to those living near: there is the
origin of your virtue.
When you are above praise and blame, and your will
wants to comm and all things, like a lover's will: there is
the origin of your virtue.
When you despise the agreeable and the soft bed and
cannot bed yourself far enough from the soft: there is
the origin of your virtue.
When you will with a single will and you call this
cessation of all need "necessity": there is the origin of
your virtue.
Verily, a new good and evil is she. Verily, a new deep
murmur and the voice of a new well
Power is she, this new virtue; a dominant thought is
she, and around her a wise soul: a golden sun, and
around it the serpent of knowledge.
2

Here Zarathustra fell silent for a while and looked
lovingly at his disciples. Then he continued to speak
thus, and the tone of his voice had changed:
Remain faithful to the earth, my brothers, with the
power of your virtue. Let your gift-giving love and your
knowledge serve the meaning of the earth. Thus I beg
and beseech you. Do not let them fly away from earthly
things and beat with their wings against eternal walls.
Alas, there has always been so much virtue that has
flown away. Lead back to the earth the virtue that flew
away, as I do-back to the body, back to life, that it
may give the earth a meaning, a human meaning.
In a hundred ways, thus far, have spirit as well as
virtue flown away and made mistakes. Alas, all this de-
77
lusion and all these mistakes still dwell in our body:
they have there become body and will.
In a hundred ways, thus far, spirit as well as virtue
has tried and erred. Indeed, an experiment was man.
Alas, much ignorance and error have become body
within us.
Not only the reason of millennia, but their madness
too, breaks out in us. It is dangerous to be an heir. Still
we fight step by step with the giant, accident; and over
the whole of humanity there has ruled so far only nonsense-no sense.
Let your spirit and your virtue serve the sense of the
earth, my brothers; and let the value of all things be
posited newly by you. For that shall you be fighters! For
that shall you be creators!
With knowledge, the body purifies itself; making experiments with knowledge, it elevates itself; in the
lover of knowledge all instincts become holy; in the
elevated, the soul becomes gay.
Physician, help yourself: thus you help your patient
too. Let this be his best help that he may behold with
his eyes the man who heals himself.
There are a thousand paths that have never yet been
trodden-a thousand health and hidden isles of life.
Even now, man and man's earth are unexhausted and
undiscovered.
Wake and listen, you that are lonely! From the future
come winds with secret wing-beats; and good tidings
are proclaimed to delicate ears. You that are lonely today, you that are withdrawing, you shall one day be
the people: out of you, who have chosen yourselves,
there shall grow a chosen people-and out of them, the
overman. Verily, the earth shall yet become a site of
recovery. And even now a new fragrance surrounds it,
bringing salvation-and a new hope.
3
When Zarathustra had said these words he became
silent, like one who has not yet said his last word; long
he weighed his staff in his hand, doubtfully. At last he
spoke thus, and the tone of his voice had changed.
Now I go alone, my disciples. You too go now, alone.
Thus I want it. Verily, I counsel you: go away from me
and resist Zarathustra! And even better: be ashamed of
him! Perhaps he deceived you.
The man of knowledge must not only love his
enemies, he must also be able to hate his friends.
One repays a teacher badly if one always remains
nothing but a pupil. And why do you not want to pluck
at my wreath?
You revere me; but what if your reverence tumbles
one day? Beware lest a statue slay you.
You say you believe in Zarathustra? But what matters
Zarathustra? You are my believers-but what matter all
believers? You had not yet sought yourselves: and you
found me. Thus do all believers; therefore all faith
amounts to so little.
Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only
when you have all denied me will I return to you.
Verily, my brothers, with different eyes shall I then
seek my lost ones; with a different love shall I then love
you.
And once again you shall become my friends and the
children of a single hope-and then shall I be with you
the third time, that I may celebrate the great noon with
you.
And that is the great noon when man stands in the
middle of his way between beast and overman and
celebrates his way to the evening as his highest hope:
for it is the way to a new morning.
79

Then will he who goes under bless himself for being
one who goes over and beyond; and the sun of his
knowledge will stand at high noon for him.
"Dead are all gods: now we want the overman to
live"-on that great noon, let this be our last will.
Thus spoke Zarathustra.

Thus Spoke Zarathustra: Second Part
. . . and only when you have all denied me will
I return to you.
Verily, my brothers, with different eyes shall I
then seek my lost ones; with a different love shall
I then love you. (Zarathustra, "On the Gift-Giving Virtue." 1, p. 78)
TRANSLATOR S NOTES

1. The Child with the Mirror: Transition to Part Two with

its partly new style: "A new speech comes to me.
My spirit no longer wants to walk on worn soles."
2. Upon the Blessed Isles: The creative life versus belief
in God: "God is a conjecture." The polemic against the
opening lines of the final chorus in Goethe's Faust is taken
up again in the chapter "On Poets" (see comments, p. 81 ).
But the lines immediately following in praise of impermanence and creation are thoroughly in the spirit of Goethe.
3. On the Pitying: A return to the style of Part One and
a major statement of Nietzsche's ideas on pity, ressentiment,
and repression.
4. On Priests: Relatively mild, compared to the portrait
of the priest in The Antichrist five years later.
5. On the Virtuous: A typology of different conceptions of
virtue, with vivisectional intent. Nietzsche denounces "the
filth of the words: revenge, punishment, reward, retri bution," which he associates with Christianity; but also
that rigorism for which "virtue is the spasm under
the scourge" and those who "call it virtue when their
vices grow lazy." The pun on "I am just" is, in German:
wenn sie sagen: "ich bin gerecht," so klingt es immer
gleich wie: "ich bin gerdcht!"
6. On the Rabble: The theme of Zarathustra's nausea is
developed ad nauseam in later chapters. La Nausge-to
speak in Sartre's terms-is one of his chief trials, and its
eventual conquest is his greatest triumph. "I often grew
weary of the spirit when I found that even the rabble had
esprit" may help to account for some of Nietzsche's remarks
elsewhere. Generally he celebrates the spirit-not in opposition to the body but as mens sana in corpore sano.
7. On the Tarantulas: One of the central motifs of Nietzsche's philosophy is stated in italics: "that man be delivered
from revenge." In this chapter, the claim of human equality
is criticized as an expression of the ressentiment of the subequal.
8. On the Famous Wise Men: One cannot serve two
masters: the people and the truth. The philosophers of
the past have too often rationalized popular prejudices. But
the service of truth is a passion and martyrdom, for "spirit
is the life that itself cuts into life: with its agony it
increases its own knowledge." The song of songs on the
spirit in this chapter may seem to contradict Nietzsche's
insistence, in the chapter "On the Despisers of the Body,"
that the spirit is a mere instrument. Both themes are
central in Nietzsche's thought, and their apparent contradiction is partly due to the fact that both are stated metaphorically. For, in truth, Nietzsche denies any crude dualism of body and spirit as a popular prejudice. The life of
the spirit and the life of the body are aspects of a single
life. But up to a point the contradiction can also be resolved
metaphorically: life uses the spirit against its present form
to attain a higher perfection. Man's enhancement is
inseparable from the spirit; but Nietzsche denounces the
occasional efforts of the spirit to destroy life instead of
pruning it.
81
9. The Night Song: "Light am I; ah, that I were nightly"
io. The Dancing Song: Life and wisdom as jealous women.
ii.
The Tomb Song: "Invulnerable am I only in the heel."
12. On Self-Overcoming: The first long discussion of the
will to power marks, together with the chapters "On the
Pitying" and "On the Tarantulas," one of the high points
of Part Two. Philosophically, however, it raises many difficulties. (See my Nietzsche, 6, III.)
13.

On Those Who Are Sublime: The doctrine of self-

overcoming is here guarded against misunderstandings: far
from favoring austere heroics, Nietzsche praises humor (and
practices it: witness the whole of Zarathustra, especially
Part Four) and, no less, gracefulness and graciousness.
The three sentences near the end, beginning "And there
is nobody . . .

,"

represent a wonderfully concise statement

of much of his philosophy.
14. On the Land of Education: Against modern eclecticism
and lack of style. "Rather would I be a day laborer in
Hades . . :": in the Odyssey, the shade of Achilles would
rather be a day laborer on the smallest field than king of
all the dead in Hades. Zarathustra abounds in similar
allusions. "Everything deserves to perish," for example, is
an abbreviation of a dictum of Goethe's Mephistopheles.
15. On Immaculate Perception: Labored sexual imagery,
already notable in "The Dancing Song," keeps this critique
of detachment from becoming incisive. Not arid but,
judged by high standards, a mismatch of message and
metaphor. Or put positively: something of a personal document. Therefore the German references to the sun as
feminine have been retained in translation. "Loving and
perishing (Lieben und Untergehn)" do not rhyme in
German either.
16. On Scholars: Nietzsche's, not Zarathustra's, autobiography.
17. On Poets: This chapter is full of allusions to the final
chorus in Goethe's Faust, which might be translated thus:
What is destructible
Is but a parable;
82
What fails ineluctably
The undeclarable,
Here it was seen,
Here it was action;
The Eternal-Feminine
Lures to perfection.
i8. On Great Events: How successful Nietzsche's attempts
at narrative are is at least debatable. Here the story
distracts from his statement of his anti-political attitude.
But the curious mixture of the solemn and frivolous, myth,
epigram, and "bow-wow," is of course entirely intentional.
Even the similarity between the ghost's cry and the words
of the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderl and probably would
not have dismayed Nietzsche in the least.
1g. The Soothsayer: In the chapter "On the Adder's Bite"
a brief parable introduces some of Zarathustra's finest sayings; but here the parable is offered for its own sake, and
we feel closer to Rimbaud than to Proverbs. The soothsayer
reappears in Part Four.
20. On Redemption: In the conception of inverse cripples
and the remarks on revenge and punishment Zarathustra's
moral pathos reappears to some extent; but the mood of
the preceding chapter figures in his subsequent reflections,
which lead up to, but stop short of, Nietzsche's notion of
the eternal recurrence of the same events.
21. On Human Prudence: First: better to be deceived
occasionally than always to watch out for deceivers. Second:
vanity versus pride. Third: men today (1883) are too
concerned about petty evil, but great things are possible
only where great evil is harnessed.
22. The Stillest Hour: Zarathustra cannot yet get himself
to proclaim the eternal recurrence and hence he must
leave in order to "ripen."
83
~ Friedrich Nietzsche, ON THE GIFT-GIVING VIRTUE
,
903:The Duellist - Book Iii
Ah me! what mighty perils wait
The man who meddles with a state,
Whether to strengthen, or oppose!
False are his friends, and firm his foes:
How must his soul, once ventured in,
Plunge blindly on from sin to sin!
What toils he suffers, what disgrace,
To get, and then to keep, a place!
How often, whether wrong or right,
Must he in jest or earnest fight,
Risking for those both life and limb
Who would not risk one groat for him!
Under the Temple lay a Cave,
Made by some guilty, coward slave,
Whose actions fear'd rebuke: a maze
Of intricate and winding ways,
Not to be found without a clue;
One passage only, known to few,
In paths direct led to a cell,
Where Fraud in secret loved to dwell,
With all her tools and slaves about her,
Nor fear'd lest Honesty should rout her.
In a dark corner, shunning sight
Of man, and shrinking from the light,
One dull, dim taper through the cell
Glimmering, to make more horrible
The face of darkness, she prepares,
Working unseen, all kinds of snares,
With curious, but destructive art:
Here, through the eye to catch the heart,
Gay stars their tinsel beams afford,
Neat artifice to trap a lord;
There, fit for all whom Folly bred,
Wave plumes of feathers for the head;
Garters the hag contrives to make,
Which, as it seems, a babe might break,
But which ambitious madmen feel
More firm and sure than chains of steel;
Which, slipp'd just underneath the knee,
153
Forbid a freeman to be free.
Purses she knew, (did ever curse
Travel more sure than in a purse?)
Which, by some strange and magic bands,
Enslave the soul, and tie the hands.
Here Flattery, eldest-born of Guile,
Weaves with rare skill the silken smile,
The courtly cringe, the supple bow,
The private squeeze, the levee vow,
With which--no strange or recent case-Fools in, deceive fools out of place.
Corruption, (who, in former times,
Through fear or shame conceal'd her crimes,
And what she did, contrived to do it
So that the public might not view it)
Presumptuous grown, unfit was held
For their dark councils, and expell'd,
Since in the day her business might
Be done as safe as in the night.
Her eye down-bending to the ground,
Planning some dark and deadly wound,
Holding a dagger, on which stood,
All fresh and reeking, drops of blood,
Bearing a lantern, which of yore,
By Treason borrow'd, Guy Fawkes bore,
By which, since they improved in trade,
Excisemen have their lanterns made,
Assassination, her whole mind
Blood-thirsting, on her arm reclined;
Death, grinning, at her elbow stood,
And held forth instruments of blood,-Vile instruments, which cowards choose,
But men of honour dare not use;
Around, his Lordship and his Grace,
Both qualified for such a place,
With many a Forbes, and many a Dun,
Each a resolved, and pious son,
Wait her high bidding; each prepared,
As she around her orders shared,
Proof 'gainst remorse, to run, to fly,
And bid the destined victim die,
Posting on Villany's black wing,
154
Whether he patriot is, or king.
Oppression,--willing to appear
An object of our love, not fear,
Or, at the most, a reverend awe
To breed, usurp'd the garb of Law.
A book she held, on which her eyes
Were deeply fix'd, whence seem'd to rise
Joy in her breast; a book, of might
Most wonderful, which black to white
Could turn, and without help of laws,
Could make the worse the better cause.
She read, by flattering hopes deceived;
She wish'd, and what she wish'd, believed,
To make that book for ever stand
The rule of wrong through all the land;
On the back, fair and worthy note,
At large was Magna Charta wrote;
But turn your eye within, and read,
A bitter lesson, Norton's Creed.
Ready, e'en with a look, to run,
Fast as the coursers of the sun,
To worry Virtue, at her hand
Two half-starved greyhounds took their stand.
A curious model, cut in wood,
Of a most ancient castle stood
Full in her view; the gates were barr'd,
And soldiers on the watch kept guard;
In the front, openly, in black
Was wrote, The Tower: but on the back,
Mark'd with a secretary's seal,
In bloody letters, The Bastile.
Around a table, fully bent
On mischief of most black intent,
Deeply determined that their reign
Might longer last, to work the bane
Of one firm patriot, whose heart, tied
To Honour, all their power defied,
And brought those actions into light
They wish'd to have conceal'd in night,
Begot, born, bred to infamy,
A privy-council sat of three:
Great were their names, of high repute
155
And favour through the land of Bute.
The first (entitled to the place
Of Honour both by gown and grace,
Who never let occasion slip
To take right-hand of fellowship,
And was so proud, that should he meet
The twelve apostles in the street,
He'd turn his nose up at them all,
And shove his Saviour from the wall!
Who was so mean (Meanness and Pride
Still go together side by side)
That he would cringe, and creep, be civil,
And hold a stirrup for the Devil;
If in a journey to his mind,
He'd let him mount and ride behind;
Who basely fawn'd through all his life,
For patrons first, then for a wife:
Wrote Dedications which must make
The heart of every Christian quake;
Made one man equal to, or more
Than God, then left him, as before
His God he left, and, drawn by pride,
Shifted about to t' other side)
Was by his sire a parson made,
Merely to give the boy a trade;
But he himself was thereto drawn
By some faint omens of the lawn,
And on the truly Christian plan
To make himself a gentleman,-A title in which Form array'd him,
Though Fate ne'er thought on 't when she made him.
The oaths he took, 'tis very true,
But took them as all wise men do,
With an intent, if things should turn,
Rather to temporise, than burn;
Gospel and loyalty were made
To serve the purposes of trade;
Religions are but paper ties,
Which bind the fool, but which the wise,
Such idle notions far above,
Draw on and off, just like a glove;
All gods, all kings (let his great aim
156
Be answer'd) were to him the same.
A curate first, he read and read,
And laid in, whilst he should have fed
The souls of his neglected flock,
Of reading such a mighty stock,
That he o'ercharged the weary brain
With more than she could well contain;
More than she was with spirits fraught
To turn and methodise to thought,
And which, like ill-digested food,
To humours turn'd, and not to blood.
Brought up to London, from the plough
And pulpit, how to make a bow
He tried to learn; he grew polite,
And was the poet's parasite.
With wits conversing, (and wits then
Were to be found 'mongst noblemen)
He caught, or would have caught, the flame,
And would be nothing, or the same.
He drank with drunkards, lived with sinners,
Herded with infidels for dinners;
With such an emphasis and grace
Blasphemed, that Potter kept not pace:
He, in the highest reign of noon,
Bawled bawdy songs to a psalm tune;
Lived with men infamous and vile,
Truck'd his salvation for a smile;
To catch their humour caught their plan,
And laugh'd at God to laugh with man;
Praised them, when living, in each breath,
And damn'd their memories after death.
To prove his faith, which all admit
Is at least equal to his wit,
And make himself a man of note,
He in defence of Scripture wrote:
So long he wrote, and long about it,
That e'en believers 'gan to doubt it:
He wrote, too, of the inward light,
Though no one knew how he came by 't,
And of that influencing grace
Which in his life ne'er found a place:
He wrote, too, of the Holy Ghost,
157
Of whom no more than doth a post
He knew; nor, should an angel show him,
Would he, or know, or choose to know him.
Next (for he knew 'twixt every science
There was a natural alliance)
He wrote, to advance his Maker's praise,
Comments on rhymes, and notes on plays,
And with an all-sufficient air
Placed himself in the critic's chair;
Usurp'd o'er Reason full dominion,
And govern'd merely by Opinion.
At length dethroned, and kept in awe
By one plain simple man of law,
He arm'd dead friends, to vengeance true,
To abuse the man they never knew.
Examine strictly all mankind,
Most characters are mix'd, we find;
And Vice and Virtue take their turn
In the same breast to beat and burn.
Our priest was an exception here,
Nor did one spark of grace appear,
Not one dull, dim spark in his soul;
Vice, glorious Vice, possess'd the whole,
And, in her service truly warm,
He was in sin most uniform.
Injurious Satire! own at least
One snivelling virtue in the priest,
One snivelling virtue, which is placed,
They say, in or about the waist,
Call'd Chastity; the prudish dame
Knows it at large by Virtue's name.
To this his wife (and in these days
Wives seldom without reason praise)
Bears evidence--then calls her child,
And swears that Tom was vastly wild.
Ripen'd by a long course of years,
He great and perfect now appears.
In shape scarce of the human kind,
A man, without a manly mind;
No husband, though he's truly wed;
Though on his knees a child is bred,
No father; injured, without end
158
A foe; and though obliged, no friend;
A heart, which virtue ne'er disgraced;
A head, where learning runs to waste;
A gentleman well-bred, if breeding
Rests in the article of reading;
A man of this world, for the next
Was ne'er included in his text;
A judge of genius, though confess'd
With not one spark of genius bless'd;
Amongst the first of critics placed,
Though free from every taint of taste;
A Christian without faith or works,
As he would be a Turk 'mongst Turks;
A great divine, as lords agree,
Without the least divinity;
To crown all, in declining age,
Inflamed with church and party rage,
Behold him, full and perfect quite,
A false saint, and true hypocrite.
Next sat a lawyer, often tried
In perilous extremes; when Pride
And Power, all wild and trembling, stood,
Nor dared to tempt the raging flood;
This bold, bad man arose to view,
And gave his hand to help them through:
Steel'd 'gainst compassion, as they pass'd
He saw poor Freedom breathe her last;
He saw her struggle, heard her groan;
He saw her helpless and alone,
Whelm'd in that storm, which, fear'd and praised
By slaves less bold, himself had raised.
Bred to the law, he from the first
Of all bad lawyers was the worst.
Perfection (for bad men maintain
In ill we may perfection gain)
In others is a work of time,
And they creep on from crime to crime;
He, for a prodigy design'd,
To spread amazement o'er mankind,
Started full ripen'd all at once
A perfect knave, and perfect dunce.
Who will, for him, may boast of sense,
159
His better guard is impudence;
His front, with tenfold plates of brass
Secured, Shame never yet could pass,
Nor on the surface of his skin
Blush for that guilt which dwelt within.
How often, in contempt of laws,
To sound the bottom of a cause,
To search out every rotten part,
And worm into its very heart,
Hath he ta'en briefs on false pretence,
And undertaken the defence
Of trusting fools, whom in the end
He meant to ruin, not defend!
How often, e'en in open court,
Hath the wretch made his shame his sport,
And laugh'd off, with a villain's ease,
Throwing up briefs, and keeping fees!
Such things as, though to roguery bred,
Had struck a little villain dead!
Causes, whatever their import,
He undertakes, to serve a court;
For he by art this rule had got,
Power can effect what Law cannot.
Fools he forgives, but rogues he fears;
If Genius, yoked with Worth, appears,
His weak soul sickens at the sight,
And strives to plunge them down in night.
So loud he talks, so very loud,
He is an angel with the crowd;
Whilst he makes Justice hang her head,
And judges turn from pale to red.
Bid all that Nature, on a plan
Most intimate, makes dear to man,
All that with grand and general ties
Binds good and bad, the fool and wise,
Knock at his heart; they knock in vain;
No entrance there such suitors gain;
Bid kneeling kings forsake the throne,
Bid at his feet his country groan;
Bid Liberty stretch out her hands,
Religion plead her stronger bands;
Bid parents, children, wife, and friends,
160
If they come 'thwart his private ends-Unmoved he hears the general call,
And bravely tramples on them all.
Who will, for him, may cant and whine,
And let weak Conscience with her line
Chalk out their ways; such starving rules
Are only fit for coward fools;
Fellows who credit what priests tell,
And tremble at the thoughts of Hell;
His spirit dares contend with Grace,
And meets Damnation face to face.
Such was our lawyer; by his side,
In all bad qualities allied,
In all bad counsels, sat a third,
By birth a lord. Oh, sacred word!
Oh, word most sacred! whence men get
A privilege to run in debt;
Whence they at large exemption claim
From Satire, and her servant Shame;
Whence they, deprived of all her force,
Forbid bold Truth to hold her course.
Consult his person, dress, and air,
He seems, which strangers well might swear,
The master, or, by courtesy,
The captain of a colliery.
Look at his visage, and agree
Half-hang'd he seems, just from the tree
Escaped; a rope may sometimes break,
Or men be cut down by mistake.
He hath not virtue (in the school
Of Vice bred up) to live by rule,
Nor hath he sense (which none can doubt
Who know the man) to live without.
His life is a continued scene
Of all that's infamous and mean;
He knows not change, unless, grown nice
And delicate, from vice to vice;
Nature design'd him, in a rage,
To be the Wharton of his age;
But, having given all the sin,
Forgot to put the virtues in.
To run a horse, to make a match,
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To revel deep, to roar a catch,
To knock a tottering watchman down,
To sweat a woman of the town;
By fits to keep the peace, or break it,
In turn to give a pox, or take it;
He is, in faith, most excellent,
And, in the word's most full intent,
A true choice spirit, we admit;
With wits a fool, with fools a wit:
Hear him but talk, and you would swear
Obscenity herself was there,
And that Profaneness had made choice,
By way of trump, to use his voice;
That, in all mean and low things great,
He had been bred at Billingsgate;
And that, ascending to the earth
Before the season of his birth,
Blasphemy, making way and room,
Had mark'd him in his mother's womb.
Too honest (for the worst of men
In forms are honest, now and then)
Not to have, in the usual way,
His bills sent in; too great to pay:
Too proud to speak to, if he meets
The honest tradesman whom he cheats:
Too infamous to have a friend;
Too bad for bad men to commend,
Or good to name; beneath whose weight
Earth groans; who hath been spared by Fate
Only to show, on Mercy's plan,
How far and long God bears with man.
Such were the three, who, mocking sleep,
At midnight sat, in counsel deep,
Plotting destruction 'gainst a head
Whose wisdom could not be misled;
Plotting destruction 'gainst a heart
Which ne'er from honour would depart.
'Is he not rank'd amongst our foes?
Hath not his spirit dared oppose
Our dearest measures, made our name
Stand forward on the roll of Shame
Hath he not won the vulgar tribes,
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By scorning menaces and bribes,
And proving that his darling cause
Is, of their liberties and laws
To stand the champion? In a word,
Nor need one argument be heard
Beyond this to awake our zeal,
To quicken our resolves, and steel
Our steady souls to bloody bent,
(Sure ruin to each dear intent,
Each flattering hope) he, without fear,
Hath dared to make the truth appear.'
They said, and, by resentment taught,
Each on revenge employ'd his thought;
Each, bent on mischief, rack'd his brain
To her full stretch, but rack'd in vain;
Scheme after scheme they brought to view;
All were examined; none would do:
When Fraud, with pleasure in her face,
Forth issued from her hiding-place,
And at the table where they meet,
First having bless'd them, took her seat.
'No trifling cause, my darling boys,
Your present thoughts and cares employs;
No common snare, no random blow,
Can work the bane of such a foe:
By nature cautious as he's brave,
To Honour only he's a slave;
In that weak part without defence,
We must to honour make pretence;
That lure shall to his ruin draw
The wretch, who stands secure in law.
Nor think that I have idly plann'd
This full-ripe scheme; behold at hand,
With three months' training on his head,
An instrument, whom I have bred,
Born of these bowels, far from sight
Of Virtue's false but glaring light,
My youngest-born, my dearest joy,
Most like myself, my darling boy!
He, never touch'd with vile remorse,
Resolved and crafty in his course,
Shall work our ends, complete our schemes,
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Most mine, when most he Honour's seems;
Nor can be found, at home, abroad,
So firm and full a slave of Fraud.'
She said, and from each envious son
A discontented murmur run
Around the table; all in place
Thought his full praise their own disgrace,
Wondering what stranger she had got,
Who had one vice that they had not;
When straight the portals open flew,
And, clad in armour, to their view
Martin, the Duellist, came forth.
All knew, and all confess'd his worth;
All justified, with smiles array'd,
The happy choice their dam had made.
~ Charles Churchill,
904:First Anniversary
Like the vain curlings of the watery maze,
Which in smooth streams a sinking weight does raise,
So Man, declining always, disappears
In the weak circles of increasing years;
And his short tumults of themselves compose,
While flowing Time above his head does close.
Cromwell alone with greater vigour runs,
(Sun-like) the stages of succeeding suns:
And still the day which he doth next restore,
Is the just wonder of the day before.
Cromwell alone doth with new lustre spring,
And shines the jewel of the yearly ring.
'Tis he the force of scattered time contracts,
And in one year the work of ages acts:
While heavy monarchs make a wide return,
Longer, and more malignant than Saturn:
And though they all Platonic years should reign,
In the same posture would be found again.
Their earthy projects under ground they lay,
More slow and brittle than the China clay:
Well may they strive to leave them to their son,
For one thing never was by one king done.
Yet some more active for a frontier town,
Taken by proxy, beg a false renown;
Another triumphs at the public cost,
And will have won, if he no more have lost;
They fight by others, but in person wrong,
And only are against their subjects strong;
Their other wars seem but a feigned contèst,
This common enemy is still oppressed;
If conquerors, on them they turn their might;
If conquered, on them they wreak their spite:
They neither build the temple in their days,
Nor matter for succeeding founders raise;
Nor sacred prophecies consult within,
Much less themself to pèfect them begin;
No other care they bear of things above,
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But with astrologers divine of Jove
To know how long their planet yet reprieves
From the deservéd fate their guilty lives:
Thus (image-like) an useless time they tell,
And with vain sceptre strike the hourly bell,
Nor more contribute to the state of things,
Than wooden heads unto the viol's strings.
While indefatigable Cromwell hies,
And cuts his way still nearer to the skies,
Learning a music in the region clear,
To tune this lower to that higher sphere.
So when Amphion did the lute command,
Which the god gave him, with his gentle hand,
The rougher stones, unto his measures hewed,
Danced up in order from the quarries rude;
This took a lower, that an higher place,
As he the treble altered, or the bass:
No note he struck, but a new stone was laid,
And the great work ascended while he played.
The listening structures he with wonder eyed,
And still new stops to various time applied:
Now through the strings a martial rage he throws,
And joining straight the Theban tower arose;
Then as he strokes them with a touch more sweet,
The flocking marbles in a palace meet;
But for the most the graver notes did try,
Therefore the temples reared their columns high:
Thus, ere he ceased, his sacred lute creates
Th' harmonious city of the seven gates.
Such was that wondrous order and consent,
When Cromwell tuned the ruling Instrument,
While tedious statesmen many years did hack,
Framing a liberty that still went back,
Whose numerous gorge could swallow in an hour
That island, which the sea cannot devour:
Then our Amphion issued out and sings,
And once he struck, and twice, the powerful strings.
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The Commonwealth then first together came,
And each one entered in the willing frame;
All other matter yields, and may be ruled;
But who the minds of stubborn men can build?
No quarry bears a stone so hardly wrought,
Nor with such labour from its centre brought;
None to be sunk in the foundation bends,
Each in the house the highest place contends,
And each the hand that lays him will direct,
And some fall back upon the architect;
Yet all composed by his attractive song,
Into the animated city throng.
The Commonwealth does through their centres all
Draw the circumference of the public wall;
The crossest spirits here do take their part,
Fastening the contignation which they thwart;
And they, whose nature leads them to divide,
Uphold this one, and that the other side;
But the most equal still sustain the height,
And they as pillars keep the work upright,
While the resistance of opposèd minds,
The fabric (as with arches) stronger binds,
Which on the basis of a senate free,
Knit by the roof's protecting weight, agree.
When for his foot he thus a place had found,
He hurls e'er since the world about him round,
And in his several aspects, like a star,
Here shines in peace, and thither shoots in war,
While by his beams observing princes steer,
And wisely court the influence they fear.
O would they rather by his pattern won
Kiss the approaching, not yet angry Son;
And in their numbered footsteps humbly tread
The path where holy oracles do lead;
How might they under such a captain raise
The great designs kept for the latter days!
But mad with reason (so miscalled) of state
They know them not, and what they know not, hate.
Hence still they sing hosanna to the whore,
And her, whom they should massacre, adore:
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But Indians, whom they would convert, subdue;
Nor teach, but traffic with, or burn the Jew.
Unhappy princes, ignorantly bred,
By malice some, by error more misled,
If gracious heaven to my life give length,
Leisure to time, and to my weaknes strength,
Then shall I once with graver accents shake
Your regal sloth, and your long slumbers wake:
Like the shrill huntsman that prevents the east,
Winding his horn to kings that chase the beast.
Till then my muse shall hollo far behind
Angelic Cromwell who outwings the wind,
And in dark nights, and in cold days alone
Pursues the monster through every throne:
Which shrinking to her Roman den impure,
Gnashes her gory teeth; nor there secure.
Hence oft I think if in some happy hour
High grace should meet in one with highest power,
And then a seasonable people still
Should bend to his, as he to heaven's will,
What we might hope, what wonderful effect
From such a wished conjuncture might reflect.
Sure, the mysterious work, where none withstand,
Would forthwith finish under such a hand:
Foreshortened time its useless course would stay,
And soon precipitate the latest day.
But a thick cloud about that morning lies,
And intercepts the beams of mortal eyes,
That 'tis the most which we determine can,
If these the times, then this must be the man.
And well he therefore does, and well has guessed,
Who in his age has always forward pressed:
And knowing not where heaven's choice may light,
Girds yet his sword, and ready stand to fight;
But men, alas, as if they nothing cared,
Look on, all unconcerned, or unprepared;
And stars still fall, and still the dragon's tail
Swinges the volumes of its horrid flail.
For the great justice that did first suspend
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The world by sin, does by the same extend.
Hence that blest day still counterposèd wastes,
The ill delaying what the elected hastes;
Hence landing nature to new seas is tossed,
And good designs still with their authors lost.
And thou, great Cromwell, for whose happy birth
A mould was chosen out of better earth;
Whose saint-like mother we did lately see
Live out an age, long as a pedigree;
That she might seem (could we the Fall dispute),
T' have smelled the blossom, and not eat the fruit;
Though none does of more lasting parents grow,
Yet never any did them honour so,
Though thou thine heart from evil still unstained,
And always hast thy tongue from fraud refrained;
Thou, who so oft through storms of thundering lead
Hast born securely thine undaunted head,
Thy breast through poniarding conspiracies,
Drawn from the sheath of lying prophecies;
Thee proof behond all other force or skill,
Our sins endanger, and shall one day kill.
How near they failed, and in thy sudden fall
At once assayed to overturn us all.
Our brutish fury struggling to be free,
Hurried thy horses while they hurried thee,
When thou hadst almost quit thy mortal cares,
And soiled in dust thy crown of silver hairs.
Let this one sorrow interweave among
The other glories of our yearly song.
Like skilful looms, which through the costly thread
Of purling ore, a shining wave do shed:
So shall the tears we on past grief employ,
Still as they trickle, glitter in our joy.
So with more modesty we may be true,
And speak, as of the dead, the praises due:
While impious men deceived with pleasure short,
On their own hopes shall find the fall retort.
But the poor beasts, wanting their noble guide,
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(What could they more?) shrunk guiltily aside.
First wingèd fear transports them far away,
And leaden sorrow then their flight did stay.
See how they each his towering crest abate,
And the green grass, and their known mangers hate,
Nor through wide nostrils snuff the wanton air,
Nor their round hoofs, or curlèd manes compare;
With wandering eyes, and restless ears they stood,
And with shrill neighings asked him of the wood.
Thou, Cromwell, falling, not a stupid tree,
Or rock so savage, but it mourned for thee:
And all about was heard a panic groan,
As if that Nature's self were overthrown.
It seemed the earth did from the centre tear;
It seemed the sun was fall'n out of the sphere:
Justice obstructed lay, and reason fooled;
Courage disheartened, and religion cooled.
A dismal silence through the palace went,
And then loud shrieks the vaulted marbles rent,
Such as the dying chorus sings by turns,
And to deaf seas, and ruthless tempests mourns,
When now they sink, and now the plundering streams
Break up each deck, and rip the oaken seams.
But thee triumphant hence the fiery car,
And fiery steeds had borne out of the war,
From the low world, and thankless men above,
Unto the kingdom blest of peace and love:
We only mourned ourselves, in thine ascent,
Whom thou hadst left beneath with mantle rent.
For all delight of life thou then didst lose,
When to command, thou didst thyself dispose;
Resigning up thy privacy so dear,
To turn the headstrong people's charioteer;
For to be Cromwell was a greater thing,
Then ought below, or yet above a king:
Therefore thou rather didst thyself depress,
Yielding to rule, because it made thee less.
For neither didst thou from the first apply
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Thy sober spirit unto things too high,
But in thine own fields exercised'st long,
An healthful mind within a body strong;
Till at the seventh time thou in the skies,
As a small cloud, like a man's hand, didst rise;
Then did thick mists and winds the air deform,
And down at last thou poured'st the fertile storm,
Which to the thirsty land did plenty bring,
But, though forewarned, o'ertook and wet the King.
What since he did, an higher force him pushed
Still from behind, and yet before him rushed,
Though undiscerned among the tumult blind,
Who think those high decrees by man designed.
'Twas heaven would not that his power should cease,
But walk still middle betwixt war and peace:
Choosing each stone, and poising every weight,
Trying the measures of the breadth and height;
Here pulling down, and there erecting new,
Founding a firm state by proportions true.
When Gideon so did from the war retreat,
Yet by the conquest of two kings grown great,
He on the peace extends a warlike power,
And Israel silent saw him raze the tower;
And how he Succorth's Elders durst suppress,
With thorns and briars of the wilderness.
No king might ever such a force have done;
Yet would not he be Lord, nor yet his son.
Thou with the same strength, and an heart as plain,
Didst (like thine olive) still refuse to reign,
Though why should others all thy labour spoil,
And brambles be anointed with thine oil,
Whose climbing flame, without a timely stop,
Had quickly levelled every cedar's top?
Therefore first growing to thyself a law,
Th' ambitious shrubs thou in just time didst awe.
So have I seen at sea, when whirling winds,
Hurry the bark, but more the seamen's minds,
Who with mistaken course salute the sand,
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And threatening rocks misapprehend for land,
While baleful Tritons to the shipwreck guide,
And corposants along the tackling slide,
The passengers all wearied out before,
Giddy, and wishing for the fatal shore,
Some lusty mate, who with more careful eye
Counted the hours, and every star did spy,
The help does from the artless steersman strain,
And doubles back unto the safer main.
What though a while they grumble discontent,
Saving himself, he does their loss prevent.
'Tis not a freedom, that where all command;
Nor tyranny, where one does them withstand:
But who of both the bounder knows to lay
Him as their father must the state obey.
Thou, and thine house (like Noah's eight) did rest,
Left by the wars' flood on the mountains' crest:
And the large vale lay subject to thy will
Which thou but as an husbandman wouldst till:
And only didst for others plant the vine
Of liberty, not drunken with its wine.
That sober liberty which men may have,
That they enjoy, but more they vainly crave:
And such as to their parents' tents do press,
May show their own, not see his nakedness.
Yet such a Chammish issue still does rage,
The shame and plague both of the land and age,
Who watched thy halting, and thy fall deride,
Rejoicing when thy foot had slipped aside,
That their new king might the fifth sceptre shake,
And make the world, by his example, quake:
Whose frantic army should they want for men
Might muster heresies, so one were ten.
What thy misfortune, they the spirit call,
And their religion only is to fall.
Oh Mahomet! now couldst thou rise again,
Thy falling-sickness should have made thee reign,
While Feake and Simpson would in many a tome,
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Have writ the comments of thy sacred foam:
For soon thou mightst have passed among their rant
Were't but for thine unmovèd tulipant;
As thou must needs have owned them of thy band
For prophecies fit to be Alcoraned.
Accursèd locusts, whom your king does spit
Out of the centre of the unbottomed pit;
Wanderers, adulterers, liars, Munster's rest,
Sorcerers, athiests, jesuits possessed;
You who the scriptures and the laws deface
With the same liberty as points and lace;
Oh race most hypocritically strict!
Bent to reduce us to the ancient Pict;
Well may you act the Adam and the Eve;
Ay, and the serpent too that did deceive.
But the great captain, now the danger's o'er,
Makes you for his sake tremble one fit more;
And, to your spite, returning yet alive
Does with himself all that is good revive.
So when first man did through the morning new
See the bright sun his shining race pursue,
All day he followed with unwearied sight,
Pleased with that other world of moving light;
But thought him when he missed his setting beams,
Sunk in the hills, or plunged below the streams.
While dismal blacks hung round the universe,
And stars (like tapers) burned upon his hearse:
And owls and ravens with their screeching noise
Did make the funerals sadder by their joys.
His weeping eyes the doleful vigils keep,
Not knowing yet the night was made for sleep;
Still to the west, where he him lost, he turned,
And with such accents as despairing mourned:
`Why did mine eyes once see so bright a ray;
Or why day last no longer than a day?'
When straight the sun behind him he descried,
Smiling serenely from the further side.
So while our star that gives us light and heat,
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Seemed now a long and gloomy night to threat,
Up from the other world his flame he darts,
And princes (shining through their windows) starts,
Who their suspected counsellors refuse,
And credulous ambassadors accuse.
`Is this', saith one, `the nation that we read
Spent with both wars, under a captain dead,
Yet rig a navy while we dress us late,
And ere we dine, raze and rebuild their state?
What oaken forests, and what golden mines!
What mints of men, what union of designs!
(Unless their ships, do, as their fowl proceed
Of shedding leaves, that with their ocean breed).
Theirs are not ships, but rather arks of war
And beakèd promontories sailed from far;
Of floating islands a new hatchèd nest;
A fleet of worlds, of other worlds in quest;
An hideous shoal of wood-leviathans,
Armed with three tier of brazen hurricanes,
That through the centre shoot their thundering side
And sink the earth that does at anchor ride.
What refuge to escape them can be found,
Whose watery leaguers all the world surround?
Needs must we all their tributaries be,
Whose navies hold the sluices of the sea.
The ocean is the fountain of command,
But that once took, we captives are on land.
And those that have the waters for their share,
Can quickly leave us neither earth nor air.
Yet if through these our fears could find a pass,
Through double oak, and lined with treble brass,
That one man still, although but named, alarms
More than all men, all navies, and all arms.
Him, in the day, him, in late night I dread,
And still his sword seems hanging o'er my head.
The nation had been ours, but his one soul
Moves the great bulk, and animates the whole.
He secrecy with number hath enchased,
Courage with age, maturity with haste:
The valiant's terror, riddle of the wise,
And still his falchion all our knots unties.
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Where did he learn those arts that cost us dear?
Where below earth, or where above the sphere?
He seems a king by long succession born,
And yet the same to be a king does scorn.
Abroad a king he seems, and something more,
At home a subject on the equal floor.
O could I once him with our title see,
So should I hope that he might die as we.
But let them write is praise that love him best,
It grieves me sore to have thus much confessed.'
Pardon, great Prince, if thus their fear of spite
More than our love and duty do thee right.
I yield, nor further will the prize contend,
So that we both alike may miss our end:
While thou thy venerable head dost raise
As far above their malice as my praise,
And as the Angel of our commonweal,
Troubling the waters, yearly mak'st them heal.
~ Andrew Marvell,
905:The First Anniversary Of The Government Under O.C.
Like the vain Curlings of the Watry maze,
Which in smooth streams a sinking Weight does raise;
So Man, declining alwayes, disappears.
In the Weak Circles of increasing Years;
And his short Tumults of themselves Compose,
While flowing Time above his Head does close.
Cromwell alone with greater Vigour runs,
(Sun-like) the Stages of succeeding Suns:
And still the Day which he doth next restore,
Is the just Wonder of the Day before.
Cromwell alone doth with new Lustre spring,
And shines the Jewel of the yearly Ring.
'Tis he the force of scatter'd Time contracts,
And in one Year the Work of Ages acts:
While heavy Monarchs make a wide Return,
Longer, and more Malignant then Saturn:
And though they all Platonique years should raign,
In the same Posture would be found again.
Their earthly Projects under ground they lay,
More slow and brittle then the China clay:
Well may they strive to leave them to their Son,
For one Thing never was by one King don.
Yet some more active for a Frontier Town
Took in by Proxie, beggs a false Renown;
Another triumphs at the publick Cost,
And will have Wonn, if he no more have Lost;
They fight by Others, but in Person wrong,
And only are against their Subjects strong;
Their other Wars seem but a feign'd contest,
This Common Enemy is still opprest;
If Conquerors, on them they turn their might;
If Conquered, on them they wreak their Spight:
They neither build the Temple in their dayes,
Nor Matter for succeeding Founders raise;
Nor Sacred Prophecies consult within,
Much less themselves to perfect them begin,
No other care they bear of things above,
But with Astrologers divine, and Jove,
To know how long their Planet yet Reprives
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From the deserved Fate their guilty lives:
Thus (Image-like) and useless time they tell,
And with vain Scepter strike the hourly Bell;
Nor more contribute to the state of Things,
Then wooden Heads unto the Viols strings,
While indefatigable Cromwell hyes,
And cuts his way still nearer to the Skyes,
Learning a Musique in the Region clear,
To tune this lower to that higher Sphere.
So when Amphion did the Lute command,
Which the God gave him, with his gentle hand,
The rougher Stones, unto his Measures hew'd,
Dans'd up in order from the Quarreys rude;
This took a Lower, that an Higher place,
As he the Treble alter'd, or the Base:
No Note he struck, but a new Story lay'd,
And the great Work ascended while he play'd.
The listning Structures he with Wonder ey'd,
And still new Stopps to various Time apply'd:
Now through the Strings a Martial rage he throws,
And joyng streight the Theban Tow'r arose;
Then as he strokes them with a Touch more sweet,
The flocking Marbles in a Palace meet;
But, for he most the graver Notes did try,
Therefore the Temples rear'd their Columns high:
Thus, ere he ceas'd, his sacred Lute creates
Th'harmonious City of the seven Gates.
Such was that wondrous Order and Consent,
When Cromwell tun'd the ruling Instrument;
While tedious Statesmen many years did hack,
Framing a Liberty that still went back;
Whose num'rous Gorge could swallow in an hour
That Island, which the Sea cannot devour:
Then our Amphion issues out and sings,
And once he struck, and twice, the pow'rful Strings.
The Commonwealth then first together came,
And each one enter'd in the willing Frame;
All other Matter yields, and may be rul'd;
But who the Minds of stubborn Men can build?
No Quarry bears a Stone so hardly wrought,
Nor with such labour from its Center brought;
None to be sunk in the Foundation bends,
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Each in the House the highest Place contends,
And each the Hand that lays him will direct,
And some fall back upon the Architect;
Yet all compos'd by his attractive Song,
Into the Animated City throng.
The Common-wealth does through their Centers all
Draw the Circumf'rence of the publique Wall;
The crossest Spirits here do take their part,
Fast'ning the Contignation which they thwart;
And they, whose Nature leads them to divide,
Uphold, this one, and that the other Side;
But the most Equal still sustein the Height,
And they as Pillars keep the Work upright;
While the resistance of opposed Minds,
The Fabrick as with Arches stronger binds,
Which on the Basis of a Senate free,
Knit by the Roofs Protecting weight agree.
When for his foot he thus a place had found,
He hurles e'r since the World about him round,
And in his sev'ral Aspects, like a Star,
Here shines in Peace, and thither shoots a War.
While by his Beams observing Princes steer,
And wisely court the Influence they fear,
O would they rather by his Pattern won.
Kiss the approaching, nor yet angry Son;
And in their numbred Footsteps humbly tread
The path where holy Oracles do lead;
How might they under such a Captain raise
The great Designs kept for the latter Dayes!
But mad with reason, so miscall'd, of State
They know them not, and what they know not, hate
Hence still they sing Hosanna to the Whore,
And her whom they should Massacre adore:
But Indians whom they should convert, subdue;
Nor teach, but traffique with, or burn the Jew.
Unhappy Princes, ignorantly bred,
By Malice some, by Errour more misled;
If gracious Heaven to my Life give length,
Leisure to Times, and to my Weakness Strength,
Then shall I once with graver Accents shake
Your Regal sloth, and your long Slumbers wake:
Like the shrill Huntsman that prevents the East,
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Winding his Horn to Kings that chase the Beast.
Till then my Muse shall hollow far behind
Angelique Cromwell who outwings the wind;
And in dark Nights, and in cold Dayes alone
Pursues the Monster thorough every Throne:
Which shrinking to her Roman Den impure,
Gnashes her Goary teeth; nor there secure.
Hence oft I think, if in some happy Hour
High Grace should meet in one with highest Pow'r,
And then a seasonable People still
Should bend to his, as he to Heavens will,
What we might hope, what wonderful Effect
From such a wish'd Conjuncture might reflect.
Sure, the mysterious Work, where none withstand,
Would forthwith finish under such a Hand:
Fore-shortned Time its useless Course would stay,
And soon precipitate the latest Day.
But a thick Cloud about that Morning lyes,
And intercepts the Beams of Mortal eyes,
That 'tis the most which we deteremine can,
If these the Times, then this must be the Man.
And well he therefore does, and well has guest,
Who in his Age has always forward prest:
And knowing not where Heavens choice may light,
Girds yet his Sword, and ready stands to fight;
But Men alas, as if they nothing car'd,
Look on, all unconcern'd, or unprepar'd;
And Stars still fall, and still the Dragons Tail
Swinges the Volumes of its horrid Flail.
For the great Justice that did first suspend
The World by Sin, does by the same extend.
Hence that blest Day still counterpoysed wastes,
The ill delaying, what th'Elected hastes;
Hence landing Nature to new Seas it tost,
And good Designes still with their Authors lost.
And thou, great Cromwell, for whose happy birth
A Mold was chosen out of better Earth;
Whose Saint-like Mother we did lately see
Live out an Age, long as a Pedigree;
That she might seem, could we the Fall dispute,
T'have smelt the Blossome, and not eat the Fruit;
Though none does of more lasting Parents grow,
140
But never any did them Honor so;
Though thou thine Heart from Evil still unstain'd,
And always hast thy Tongue from fraud refrain'd,
Thou, who so oft through Storms of thundring Lead
Hast born securely thine undaunted Head,
Thy Brest through ponyarding Conspiracies,
Drawn from the Sheath of lying Prophecies;
Thee proof beyond all other Force or Skill,
Our Sins endanger, and shall one day kill.
How near they fail'd, and in thy sudden Fall
At once assay'd to overturn us all.
Our brutish fury strugling to be Free,
Hurry'd thy Horses while they hurry'd thee.
When thou hadst almost quit thy Mortal cares,
And soyl'd in Dust thy Crown of silver Hairs.
Let this one Sorrow interweave among
The other Glories of our yearly Song.
Like skilful Looms which through the costly threed
Of purling Ore, a shining wave do shed:
So shall the Tears we on past Grief employ,
Still as they trickle, glitter in our Joy.
So with more Modesty we may be True,
And speak as of the Dead the Praises due:
While impious Men deceiv'd with pleasure short,
On their own Hopes shall find the Fall retort.
But the poor Beasts wanting their noble Guide,
What could they move? shrunk guiltily aside.
First winged Fear transports them far away,
And leaden Sorrow then their flight did stay.
See how they each his towring Crest abate,
And the green Grass, and their known Mangers hate,
Nor through wide Nostrils snuffe the wanton air,
Nor their round Hoofs, or curled Mane'scompare;
With wandring Eyes, and restless Ears theystood,
And with shrill Neighings ask'd him of the Wood.
Thou Cromwell falling, not a stupid Tree,
Or Rock so savage, but it mourn'd for thee:
And all about was heard a Panique groan,
As if that Natures self were overthrown.
It seem'd the Earth did from the Center tear;
It seem'd the Sun was faln out of the Sphere:
Justice obstructed lay, and Reason fool'd;
141
Courage disheartned, and Religion cool'd.
A dismal Silence through the Palace went,
And then loud Shreeks the vaulted Marbles rent.
Such as the dying Chorus sings by turns,
And to deaf Seas, and ruthless Tempests mourns,
When now they sink, and now the plundring Streams
Break up each Deck, and rip the Oaken seams.
But thee triumphant hence the firy Carr,
And firy Steeds had born out of the Warr,
From the low World, and thankless Men above,
Unto the Kingdom blest of Peace and Love:
We only mourn'd our selves, in thine Ascent,
Whom thou hadst lest beneath with Mantle rent.
For all delight of Life thou then didst lose,
When to Command, thou didst thy self Depose;
Resigning up thy Privacy so dear,
To turn the headstrong Peoples Charioteer;
For to be Cromwell was a greater thing,
Then ought below, or yet above a King:
Therefore thou rather didst thy Self depress,
Yielding to Rule, because it made thee Less.
For, neither didst thou from the first apply
Thy sober Spirit unto things too High,
But in thine own Fields exercisedst long,
An Healthful Mind within a Body strong;
Till at the Seventh time thou in the Skyes,
As a small Cloud, like a Mans hand didst rise;
Then did thick Mists and Winds the air deform,
And down at last thou pow'rdst the fertile Storm;
Which to the thirsty Land did plenty bring,
But though forewarn'd, o'r-took and wet the King.
What since he did, an higher Force him push'd
Still from behind, and it before him rush'd,
Though undiscern'd among the tumult blind,
Who think those high Decrees by Man design'd.
'Twas Heav'n would not that his Pow'r should cease,
But walk still middle betwixt War and Peace;
Choosing each Stone, and poysing every weight,
Trying the Measures of the Bredth and Height;
Here pulling down, and there erecting New,
Founding a firm State by Proportions true.
When Gideon so did from the War retreat,
142
Yet by Conquest of two Kings grown great,
He on the Peace extends a Warlike power,
And Is'rel silent saw him rase the Tow'r;
And how he Succoths Elders durst suppress,
With Thorns and Briars of the Wilderness.
No King might ever such a Force have done;
Yet would not he be Lord, nor yet his Son.
Thou with the same strength, and an Heart as plain,
Didst (like thine Olive) still refuse to Reign;
Though why should others all thy Labor spoil,
And Brambles be anointed with thine Oyl,
Whose climbing Flame, without a timely stop,
Had quickly Levell'd every Cedar's top.
Therefore first growing to thy self a Law,
Th'ambitious Shrubs thou in just time didst aw.
So have I seen at Sea, when whirling Winds,
Hurry the Bark, but more the Seamens minds,
Who with mistaken Course salute the Sand,
And threat'ning Rocks misapprehend for Land;
While baleful Tritons to the shipwrack guide.
And Corposants along the Tacklings slide.
The Passengers all wearyed out before,
Giddy, and wishing for the fatal Shore;
Some lusty Mate, who with more careful Eye
Counted the Hours, and ev'ry Star did spy,
The Helm does from the artless Steersman strain,
And doubles back unto the safer Main.
What though a while they grumble discontent,
Saving himself he does their loss prevent.
'Tis not a Freedome, that where All command;
Nor Tyranny, where One does them withstand:
But who of both the Bounders knows to lay
Him as their Father must the State obey.
Thou, and thine House, like Noah's Eight did rest,
Left by the Wars Flood on the Mountains crest:
And the large Vale lay subject to thy Will,
Which thou but as an Husbandman would Till:
And only didst for others plant the Vine
Of Liberty, not drunken with its Wine.
That sober Liberty which men may have,
That they enjoy, but more they vainly crave:
And such as to their Parents Tents do press,
143
May shew their own, not see his Nakedness.
Yet such a Chammish issue still does rage,
The Shame and Plague both of the Land and Age,
Who watch'd thy halting, and thy Fall deride,
Rejoycing when thy Foot had slipt aside;
that their new King might the fifth Scepter shake,
And make the World, by his Example, Quake:
Whose frantique Army should they want for Men
Might muster Heresies, so one were ten.
What thy Misfortune, they the Spirit call,
And their Religion only is to Fall.
Oh Mahomet! now couldst thou rise again,
Thy Falling-sickness should have made thee Reign,
While Feake and Simpson would in many a Tome,
Have writ the Comments of thy sacred Foame:
For soon thou mightst have past among their Rant
Wer't but for thine unmoved Tulipant;
As thou must needs have own'd them of thy band
For prophecies fit to be Alcorand.
Accursed Locusts, whom your King does spit
Out of the Center of th'unbottom'd Pit;
Wand'rers, Adult'rers, Lyers, Munser's rest,
Sorcerers, Atheists, Jesuites, Possest;
You who the Scriptures and the Laws deface
With the same liberty as Points and Lace;
Oh Race most hypocritically strict!
Bent to reduce us to the ancient Pict;
Well may you act the Adam and the Eve;
Ay, and the Serpent too that did deceive.
But the great Captain, now the danger's ore,
Makes you for his sake Tremble one fit more;
And, to your spight, returning yet alive
Does with himself all that is good revive.
So when first Man did through the Morning new
See the bright Sun his shining Race pursue,
All day he follow'd with unwearied sight,
Pleas'd with that other World of moving Light;
But thought him when he miss'd his setting beams,
Sunk in the Hills, or plung'd below the Streams.
While dismal blacks hung round the Universe,
And Stars (like Tapers) burn'd upon his Herse:
And Owls and Ravens with their screeching noyse
144
Did make the Fun'rals sadder by their Joyes.
His weeping Eyes the doleful Vigils keep,
Not knowing yet the Night was made for sleep:
Still to the West, where he him lost, he turn'd,
And with such accents, as Despairing, mourn'd:
Why did mine Eyes once see so bright a Ray;
Or why Day last no longer than a Day?
When streight the Sun behind him he descry'd,
Smiling serenely from the further side.
So while our Star that gives us Light and Heat,
Seem'd now a long and gloomy Night to threat,
Up from the other World his Flame he darts,
And Princes shining through their windows starts;
Who their suspected Counsellors refuse,
And credulous Ambassadors accuse.
"Is this, saith one, the Nation that we read
"Spent with both Wars, under a Captain dead?
"Yet rig a Navy while we dress us late;
"And ere we Dine, rase and rebuild our State.
"What Oaken Forrests, and what golden Mines!
"What Mints of Men, what Union of Designes!
"Unless their Ships, do, as their Fowle proceed
"Of shedding Leaves, that with their Ocean breed.
"Theirs are not Ships, but rather Arks of War,
"And beaked Promontories sail'd from far;
"Of floting Islands a new Hatched Nest;
"A Fleet of Worlds, of other Worlds in quest;
"An hideous shole of wood Leviathans,
"Arm'd with three Tire of brazen Hurricans;
"That through the Center shoot their thundring side
"And sink the Earth that does at Anchor ride.
'What refuge to escape them can be found,
"Whose watry Leaguers all the world surround?
"Needs must we all their Tributaries be,
"Whose Navies hold the Sluces of the Sea.
"The Ocean is the Fountain of Command,
"But that once took, we Captives are on Land:
"And those that have the Waters for their share,
"Can quickly leave us neither Earth nor Air.
"Yet if through these our Fears could find a pass;
"Through double Oak, & lin'd with treble Brass;
"That one Man still, although but nam'd, alarms
145
"More then all Men, all Navies, and all Arms.
"Him, all the Day, Him, in late Nights I dread,
"And still his Sword seems hanging o're my head.
"The Nation had been ours, but his one Soul
"Moves the great Bulk, and animates the whole.
"He Secrecy with Number hath inchas'd,
"Courage with Age, Maturity with Hast:
"The Valiants Terror, Riddle of the Wise;
"And still his Fauchion all our Knots unties.
"Where did he learn those Arts that cost us dear?
"Where below Earth, or where above the Sphere?
"He seems a King by long Succession born,
"And yet the same to be a King does scorn.
"Abroad a King he seems, and something more,
"At Home a Subject on the equal Floor.
"O could I once him with our Title see,
"So should I hope yet he might Dye as wee.
"But let them write his Praise that love him best,
"It grieves me sore to have thus much confest.
"Pardon, great Prince, if thus their Fear or Spight
"More then our Love and Duty do thee Right.
"I yield, nor further will the Prize contend;
"So that we both alike may miss our End:
"While thou thy venerable Head dost raise
"As far above their Malice as my Praise.
"And as the Angel of our Commonweal,
"Troubling the Waters, yearly mak'st them Heal.
~ Andrew Marvell,
906:or Callistratus. Similarly, the hero in The Acharnians complains about Cleon
"dragging me into court" over "last year's play" but here again it is not clear if
this was said on behalf of ~ Aristophanes



or Callistratus, either of whom might
have been prosecuted by Cleon.
Comments made by the Chorus on behalf of ~ Aristophanes



in The Clouds have
been interpreted as evidence that he can have been hardly more than 18 years
old when his first play The Banqueters was produced. The second parabasis in
Wasps appears to indicate that he reached some kind of temporary
accommodation with Cleon following either the controversy over The Babylonians
or a subsequent controversy over The Knights.[ It has been inferred from
statements in The Clouds and Peace that ~ Aristophanes



was prematurely bald.
We know that ~ Aristophanes



was probably victorious at least once at the City
Dionysia (with Babylonians in 427)and at least three times at the Lenaia, with
Acharnians in 425, Knights in 424, and Frogs in 405. Frogs in fact won the
unique distinction of a repeat performance at a subsequent festival. We know
that a son of ~ Aristophanes



, Araros, was also a comic poet and he could have
been heavily involved in the production of his father's play Wealth II in s is also
thought to have been responsible for the posthumous performances of the now
lost plays Aeolosicon II and Cocalus, and it is possible that the last of these won
the prize at the City Dionysia in 387. It appears that a second son, Philippus, was
twice victorious at the Lenaia and he could have directed some of Eubulus’
comedies.A third son was called either Nicostratus or Philetaerus, and a man by
the latter name appears in the catalogue of Lenaia victors with two victories, the
first probably in the late 370s.
Plato's The Symposium appears to be a useful source of biographical information
about ~ Aristophanes



, but its reliability is open to doubt. It purports to be a record
of conversations at a dinner party at which both ~ Aristophanes



and Socrates are
guests, held some seven years after the performance of The Clouds, the play in
which Socrates was cruelly caricatured. One of the guests, Alcibiades, even
quotes from the play when teasing Socrates over his appearance and yet there is
no indication of any ill-feeling between Socrates and ~ Aristophanes



. Plato's
~ Aristophanes



is in fact a genial character and this has been interpreted as
evidence of Plato's own friendship with him (their friendship appears to be
corroborated by an epitaph for ~ Aristophanes



, reputedly written by Plato, in which
the playwright's soul is compared to an eternal shrine for the Graces). Plato was
only a boy when the events in The Symposium are supposed to have occurred
and it is possible that his ~ Aristophanes



is in fact based on a reading of the plays.
For example, conversation among the guests turns to the subject of Love and
~ Aristophanes



explains his notion of it in terms of an amusing allegory, a device
he often uses in his plays. He is represented as suffering an attack of hiccoughs
and this might be a humorous reference to the crude physical jokes in his plays.
He tells the other guests that he is quite happy to be thought amusing but he is
wary of appearing ridiculous. This fear of being ridiculed is consistent with his
declaration in The Knights that he embarked on a career of comic playwright
warily after witnessing the public contempt and ridicule that other dramatists had
incurred.
~ Aristophanes



survived The Peloponnesian War, two oligarchic revolutions and two
democratic restorations; this has been interpreted as evidence that he was not
actively involved in politics despite his highly political plays. He was probably
appointed to the Council of Five Hundred for a year at the beginning of the fourth
century but such appointments were very common in democratic tes, in the trial
leading up to his own death, put the issue of a personal conscience in those
troubled times quite succinctly:
"...he who will really fight for the right, if he would live even for a little while,
must have a private station and not a public one.
~ Aristophanes



the Poet
The language in ~ Aristophanes



' plays, and in Old Comedy generally, was valued
by ancient commentators as a model of the Attic dialect. The orator Quintilian
believed that the charm and grandeur of the Attic dialect made Old Comedy an
example for orators to study and follow, and he considered it inferior in these
respects only to the works of
A full appreciation of ~ Aristophanes



' plays requires an understanding of the poetic
forms he employed with virtuoso skill, and of their different rhythms and
associations. There were three broad poetic forms: iambic dialogue, tetrameter
verses and lyrics:
Iambic dialogue: ~ Aristophanes



achieves an effect resembling natural speech
through the use of the iambic hexameter (corresponding to the effects achieved
by English poets such as

based on words that are similar rather than identical, and it has been observed
that there could be more of them than scholars have yet been able to identify.
Others are based on double meanings. Sometimes entire scenes are constructed
on puns, as in The Acharnians with the Megarian farmer and his pigs: the
Megarian farmer defies the Athenian embargo against Megarian trade, and tries
to trade his daughters disguised as pigs, except "pig" was ancient slang for
"vagina". Since the embargo against Megara was the pretext for the
Peloponnesian War, ~ Aristophanes



naturally concludes that this whole mess
happened because of "three cunts".
It can be argued that the most important feature of the language of the plays is
imagery, particularly the use of similes, metaphors and pictorial expressions. In
'The Knights', for example, the ears of a character with selective hearing are
represented as parasols that open and close.In The Frogs, Aeschylus is said to
compose verses in the manner of a horse rolling in a sandpit. Some plays feature
revelations of human perfectibility that are poetic rather than religious in
character, such as the marriage of the hero Pisthetairos to Zeus's paramour in
The Birds and the 'recreation' of old Athens, crowned with roses, at the end of
The Knights.
~ Aristophanes



and Old Comedy
The Greek word for 'comedy' (komoidía) derives from the words for 'revel' and
'song' (komos and ode) and according to Aristotle comic drama actually
developed from song. The first, official comedy at the City Dionysia was not
staged until 487/6 BC, by which time tragedy had already been long established
there. The first comedy at the Lenaia was staged later still, only about 20 years
before the performance there of The Acharnians, the first of ~ Aristophanes



'
surviving plays. According to Aristotle, comedy was slow to gain official
acceptance because nobody took it seriously yet, only sixty years after comedy
first appeared at 'The City Dionysia', ~ Aristophanes



observed that producing
comedies was the most difficult work of tition at the Dionysian festivals needed
dramatic conventions for plays to be judged, but it also fuelled innovations.
Developments were quite rapid and Aristotle was able to distinguish between
'old' and 'new' comedy by 330 BC. The trend from Old Comedy to New Comedy
saw a move away from highly topical concerns with real individuals and local
issues towards generalized situations and stock characters. This was partly due
to the internationalization of cultural perspectives during and after the
Peloponnesian War. For ancient commentators such as Plutarch, New Comedy
was a more sophisticated form of drama than Old Comedy. However Old Comedy
was in fact a complex and sophisticated dramatic form incorporating many
approaches to humour and entertainment. In ~ Aristophanes



' early plays, the
genre appears to have developed around a complex set of dramatic conventions
and these were only gradually simplified and abandoned.
The City Dionysia and the Lenaia were celebrated in honour of Dionysus, a god
who represented Man's darker nature (Euripides' play The Bacchae offers the
best insight into 5th Century ideas about this god). Old Comedy can be
understood as a celebration of the exuberant sense of release inherent in his
worship It was more interested in finding targets for satire than in any kind of
advocacy. During the City Dionysia, a statue of the god was brought to the
theatre from a temple outside the city and it remained in the theatre throughout
the festival, overseeing the plays like a privileged member of the audience.[102]
In The Frogs, the god appears also as a dramatic character and he enters the
theatre ludicrously disguised as Hercules. He observes to the audience that every
time he is on hand to hear a joke from a comic dramatist like Phrynichus (one of
~ Aristophanes



' rivals) he ages by more than a year. The scene opens the play and
it is a reminder to the audience that nobody is above mockery in Old Comedy —
not even its patron god and its practitioners! Gods, artists, politicians and
ordinary citizens were legitimate targets, comedy was a kind of licensed
buffoonery and there was no legal redress for anyone who was slandered in a
play. There were some limits to the scope of the satire, but they are not easily
defined. Impiety could be punished in 5th century Athens but absurdities implicit
in traditional religion were open to ridicule. The polis was not allowed to be
slandered but, as stated in the biography section of this article, that could
depend on who was in the audience and which festival was involved.
For convenience, Old Comedy, as represented by ~ Aristophanes



' early plays, is
analysed below in terms of three broad characteristics — topicality, festivity and
complexity. Dramatic structure contributes to the complexity of ~ Aristophanes



'
plays. However it is associated with poetic rhythms and meters that have little
relevance to English translations and it is therefore treated in a separate section.
Influence and legacy
The tragic dramatists, Sophocles and Euripides, died near the end of the
Peloponnesian War and the art of tragedy thereafter ceased to develop, yet
comedy did continue to develop after the defeat of Athens and it is possible that
it did so because, in ~ Aristophanes



, it had a master craftsman who lived long
enough to help usher it into a new age. Indeed, according to one ancient source
(Platonius, c.9th Century AD), one of ~ Aristophanes



's last plays, Aioliskon, had
neither a parabasis nor any choral lyrics (making it a type of Middle Comedy),
while Kolakos anticipated all the elements of New Comedy, including a rape and
a recognition scene. ~ Aristophanes



seems to have had some appreciation of his
formative role in the development of comedy, as indicated by his comment in
Clouds that his audience would be judged by other times according to its
reception of his plays. Clouds was awarded third (i.e. last) place after its original
performance and the text that has come down to the modern age was a
subsequent draft that ~ Aristophanes



intended to be read rather than circulation of
his plays in manuscript extended their influence beyond the original audience,
over whom in fact they seem to have had little or no practical influence: they did
not affect the career of Cleon, they failed to persuade the Athenians to pursue an
honourable peace with Sparta and it is not clear that they were instrumental in
the trial and execution of Socrates, whose death probably resulted from public
animosity towards the philosopher's disgraced associates (such as Alcibiades),
exacerbated of course by his own intransigence during the plays, in manuscript
form, have been put to some surprising uses — as indicated earlier, they were
used in the study of rhetoric on the recommendation of Quintilian and by
students of the Attic dialect in the Fourth and Fifth Centuries AD. It is possible
that Plato sent copies of the plays to Dionysius of Syracuse so that he might
learn about Athenian life and government.
Latin translations of the plays by Andreas Divus (Venice 1528) were circulated
widely throughout Europe in the Renaissance and these were soon followed by
translations and adaptations in modern languages. Racine, for example, drew Les
Plaideurs (1668) from The Wasps.

winged."
Drama
1909: Wasps, original Greek, Cambridge University undergraduate production,
music by Vaughan Williams;
2004, July–October: The Frogs (musical), adapted by Nathan Lane, music and
lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, performed at The Vivian Beaumont Theatre
Broadway;
1962-2006: various plays by students and staff, Kings College London, in the
original Greek:Frogs 1962,1971,1988; Thesmophoriazusae 1965, 1974, 1985;
Acharnians 1968, 1992, 2004; Clouds 1977, 1990; Birds 1982, 2000;
Ecclesiazusae 2006; Peace 1970; Wasps 1981
2002: Lysistrata, adapted by Robert Brustein, music by Galt McDermot,
performed by American Repertory Theatre, Boston U.S.A.;
10
2008, May–June: Frogs, adapted by David Greenspan, music by Thomas
Cabaniss, performed by Classic Stage Company, New York, U.S.A.
Literature
The romantic poet, Percy Shelley, wrote a comic, lyrical drama (Swellfoot the
Tyrrant) in imitation of ~ Aristophanes



' play The Frogs after he was reminded of
the Chorus in that play by a herd of pigs passing to market under the window of
his lodgings in San Giuliano, Italy.
~ Aristophanes



(particularly in reference to The Clouds) is mentioned frequently by
the character Menedemos in the Hellenic Traders series of novels by H N
Turteltaub.
A liberal version of the comedies have been published in comic book format,
initially by "Agrotikes Ekdoseis" during the 1990s and republished over the years
by other companies. The plot was written by Tasos Apostolidis and the sketches
were of George Akokalidis. The stories feature either ~ Aristophanes



narrating
them, directing the play, or even as a character inside one of his stories.
Electronic Media
The Wasps, radio play adapted by David Pountney, music by Vaughan Williams,
recorded 26–28 July 2005, Albert Halls, Bolten, in association with BBC, under
Halle label;
Acropolis Now is a comedy radio show for the BBC set in Ancient Greece. It
features ~ Aristophanes



, Socrates and many other famous Greeks. (Not to be
confused with the Australian sitcom of the same name.) ~ Aristophanes



is
characterised as a celebrity playwright, and most of his plays have the title
formula: One of Our [e.g] Slaves has an Enormous Knob (a reference to the
exaggerated appendages worn by Greek comic actors)
~ Aristophanes



Against the World was a radio play by Martyn Wade and broadcast
on BBC Radio 4. Loosely based on several of his plays, it featured Clive Merrison
as ~ Aristophanes



.
In The Odd Couple, Oscar and Felix are on Password, and when the password is
bird, Felix’s esoteric clue is "~ Aristophanes



" because of his play The Birds. During
the commercial break (having failed to guess the password and lost the round),
Oscar orders Felix not to give any more Greek clues and angrily growls,
"~ Aristophanes



is ridiculous"! Then when it's Oscar’s turn to give the clue on the
11
team’s next shot, the password is ridiculous and Oscar angrily growls
"~ Aristophanes



", to which Felix gleefully responds, "Ridiculous!"
Music
Satiric Dances for a Comedy by ~ Aristophanes



is a three-movement piece for
concert band composed by Norman Dello Joio. It was commissioned in
commemoration of the Bicentennial of April 19, 1775 (the start of the American
Revolutionary War) by the Concord (Massachusetts) Band. The commission was
funded by the Town of Concord and assistance was given by the Eastern National
Park and Monument Association in cooperation with the National Park Service.
12
A Parody On Euripides's Lyric Verse
Halcyons ye by the flowing sea
Waves that warble twitteringly,
Circling over the tumbling blue,
Dipping your down in its briny dew,
Spi-i-iders in corners dim
Spi-spi-spinning your fairy film,
Shuttles echoing round the room
Silver notes of the whistling loom,
Where the light-footed dolphin skips
Down the wake of the dark-prowed ships,
Over the course of the racing steed
Where the clustering tendrils breed
Grapes to drown dull care in delight,
Oh! mother make me a child again just for to-night!
I don't exactly see how that last line is to scan,
But that's a consideration I leave to our musical man.
~ Aristophanes,

IN CHAPTERS [121/121]



   63 Integral Yoga
   9 Psychology
   7 Occultism
   6 Fiction
   5 Poetry
   4 Education
   4 Christianity
   3 Philosophy
   1 Thelema