classes ::: thing, noun,
children :::
branches ::: gate, Gate Of, Gates Of, gateway, investigate, software investigate

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object:gate
class:thing
word class:noun

  the Gate to the Temple of Light
  the Gate to the Temple of Time
  the Gate to the Inner Sanctum
  the Gate to the Tower of MEM
  the Gate to the Library All-Knowledge

the path

see also ::: The Gateless Gate

see also ::: The_Gateless_Gate

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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 [3] - TOPICS - AUTHORS - BOOKS - CHAPTERS - CLASSES - SEE ALSO - SIMILAR TITLES

TOPICS
bigindex
map
oldEIN
oldEIN
SEE ALSO

The_Gateless_Gate

AUTH

BOOKS
City_of_God
DND_DM_Guide_5E
Enchiridion_text
Epigrams_from_Savitri
Evolution_II
Faust
Full_Circle
General_Principles_of_Kabbalah
Heart_of_Matter
Infinite_Library
Liber_157_-_The_Tao_Teh_King
Life_without_Death
Modern_Man_in_Search_of_a_Soul
My_Burning_Heart
On_Interpretation
Plotinus_-_Complete_Works_Vol_01
Process_and_Reality
Questions_And_Answers_1929-1931
Savitri
The_Blue_Cliff_Records
The_Book_of_Gates
the_Book_of_God
The_Book_of_Light
The_Divine_Comedy
The_Divine_Companion
The_Divine_Milieu
The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh
The_Essential_Songs_of_Milarepa
The_Gateless_Gate
The_Great_Gate_for_Accomplishing_Supreme_Enlightenment
The_Human_Cycle
The_Imitation_of_Christ
The_Lotus_Sutra
The_Phenomenon_of_Man
The_Republic
The_Seals_of_Wisdom
The_Six_Dharma_Gates_to_the_Sublime
The_Use_and_Abuse_of_History
The_Way_of_Perfection
The_Wit_and_Wisdom_of_Alfred_North_Whitehead
The_Yoga_Sutras
Toward_the_Future

IN CHAPTERS TITLE
1.02_-_BEFORE_THE_CITY-GATE
1.03_-_The_Gate_of_Hell._The_Inefficient_or_Indifferent._Pope_Celestine_V._The_Shores_of_Acheron._Charon._The
1.08_-_Phlegyas._Philippo_Argenti._The_Gate_of_the_City_of_Dis.
1f.lovecraft_-_Through_the_Gates_of_the_Silver_Key
1.kbr_-_Knowing_Nothing_Shuts_The_Iron_Gates
1.lb_-_Viewing_Heaven's_Gate_Mountains
1.lla_-_I,_Lalla,_willingly_entered_through_the_garden-gate
1.mdl_-_The_Gates_(from_Openings)
1.ms_-_The_Gate_of_Universal_Light
1.okym_-_31_-_Up_from_Earths_Centre_through_the_Seventh_Gate
1.wh_-_The_Great_Way_has_no_gate
1.ww_-_Stone_Gate_Temple_in_the_Blue_Field_Mountains
1.ww_-_The_Wishing_Gate_Destroyed

IN CHAPTERS CLASSNAME

IN CHAPTERS TEXT
0_0.01_-_Introduction
00.03_-_Upanishadic_Symbolism
0.00a_-_Introduction
000_-_Humans_in_Universe
0.00_-_INTRODUCTION
0.00_-_The_Book_of_Lies_Text
0.00_-_The_Wellspring_of_Reality
0.02_-_The_Three_Steps_of_Nature
0.03_-_The_Threefold_Life
0.05_-_The_Synthesis_of_the_Systems
0.09_-_Letters_to_a_Young_Teacher
01.01_-_The_Symbol_Dawn
01.02_-_The_Issue
01.03_-_Mystic_Poetry
01.03_-_The_Yoga_of_the_King_-_The_Yoga_of_the_Souls_Release
01.04_-_The_Intuition_of_the_Age
01.04_-_The_Poetry_in_the_Making
01.04_-_The_Secret_Knowledge
01.05_-_The_Yoga_of_the_King_-_The_Yoga_of_the_Spirits_Freedom_and_Greatness
01.06_-_On_Communism
01.07_-_The_Bases_of_Social_Reconstruction
01.08_-_A_Theory_of_Yoga
01.10_-_Principle_and_Personality
01.12_-_Three_Degrees_of_Social_Organisation
01.13_-_T._S._Eliot:_Four_Quartets
0_1958-02-03b_-_The_Supramental_Ship
0_1959-03-26_-_Lord_of_Death,_Lord_of_Falsehood
0_1960-07-12_-_Mothers_Vision_-_the_Voice,_the_ashram_a_tiny_part_of_myself,_the_Mothers_Force,_sparkling_white_light_compressed_-_enormous_formation_of_negative_vibrations_-_light_in_evil
0_1960-07-23_-_The_Flood_and_the_race_-_turning_back_to_guide_and_save_amongst_the_torrents_-_sadhana_vs_tamas_and_destruction_-_power_of_giving_and_offering_-_Japa,_7_lakhs,_140000_per_day,_1_crore_takes_20_years
0_1960-07-26_-_Mothers_vision_-_looking_up_words_in_the_subconscient
0_1960-08-10_-_questions_from_center_of_Education_-_reading_Sri_Aurobindo
0_1960-10-02a
0_1960-10-02b
0_1960-10-11
0_1960-10-22
0_1960-12-31
0_1961-02-18
0_1961-08-11
0_1961-11-16b
0_1961-12-20
0_1962-01-27
0_1962-05-15
0_1962-05-22
0_1962-07-14
0_1962-08-08
0_1962-10-16
0_1962-11-17
0_1962-12-15
0_1963-04-06
0_1963-05-15
0_1963-07-27
0_1963-08-07
0_1963-08-10
0_1963-12-14
0_1964-03-25
0_1964-07-18
0_1964-07-31
0_1964-08-14
0_1964-08-26
0_1964-10-07
0_1964-10-30
0_1964-11-04
0_1964-11-28
0_1965-04-21
0_1965-06-23
0_1965-07-21
0_1965-08-28
0_1965-09-25
0_1965-10-13
0_1966-01-22
0_1966-06-02
0_1966-07-09
0_1966-10-26
0_1966-10-29
0_1966-11-09
0_1966-12-17
0_1967-02-25
0_1967-04-15
0_1967-12-27
0_1968-01-12
0_1968-03-02
0_1968-05-18
0_1968-06-29
0_1968-11-27
0_1968-12-11
0_1969-04-05
0_1969-12-31
0_1970-01-10
0_1970-03-28
0_1970-04-29
0_1970-06-06
0_1970-09-09
0_1971-05-12
0_1971-05-15
0_1971-12-15
0_1972-03-29a
0_1972-04-05
0_1972-04-26
0_1972-06-07
0_1972-07-29
0_1972-08-30
02.01_-_The_World-Stair
02.02_-_Lines_of_the_Descent_of_Consciousness
02.02_-_The_Message_of_the_Atomic_Bomb
02.04_-_The_Kingdoms_of_the_Little_Life
02.05_-_Federated_Humanity
02.05_-_Robert_Graves
02.06_-_The_Integral_Yoga_and_Other_Yogas
02.06_-_The_Kingdoms_and_Godheads_of_the_Greater_Life
02.07_-_India_One_and_Indivisable
02.07_-_The_Descent_into_Night
02.08_-_The_World_of_Falsehood,_the_Mother_of_Evil_and_the_Sons_of_Darkness
02.09_-_The_Paradise_of_the_Life-Gods
02.11_-_New_World-Conditions
02.11_-_The_Kingdoms_and_Godheads_of_the_Greater_Mind
02.12_-_The_Heavens_of_the_Ideal
02.12_-_The_Ideals_of_Human_Unity
02.13_-_In_the_Self_of_Mind
02.14_-_Appendix
02.14_-_Panacea_of_Isms
02.14_-_The_World-Soul
03.02_-_Aspects_of_Modernism
03.02_-_The_Adoration_of_the_Divine_Mother
03.02_-_Yogic_Initiation_and_Aptitude
03.03_-_Modernism_-_An_Oriental_Interpretation
03.04_-_The_Vision_and_the_Boon
03.04_-_Towardsa_New_Ideology
03.05_-_The_Spiritual_Genius_of_India
03.07_-_Some_Thoughts_on_the_Unthinkable
03.08_-_The_Spiritual_Outlook
03.10_-_The_Mission_of_Buddhism
03.11_-_The_Language_Problem_and_India
03.12_-_TagorePoet_and_Seer
03.15_-_Towards_the_Future
04.01_-_The_March_of_Civilisation
04.02_-_To_the_Heights_II
04.03_-_The_Call_to_the_Quest
04.04_-_A_Global_Humanity
04.04_-_The_Quest
04.05_-_The_Immortal_Nation
04.10_-_To_the_Heights-X
04.34_-_To_the_Heights-XXXIV
05.01_-_Man_and_the_Gods
05.01_-_Of_Love_and_Aspiration
05.02_-_Of_the_Divine_and_its_Help
05.02_-_Satyavan
05.03_-_The_Body_Natural
05.05_-_In_Quest_of_Reality
05.05_-_Of_Some_Supreme_Mysteries
05.06_-_The_Birth_of_Maya
05.10_-_Knowledge_by_Identity
05.11_-_The_Place_of_Reason
05.11_-_The_Soul_of_a_Nation
05.12_-_The_Soul_and_its_Journey
05.18_-_Man_to_be_Surpassed
05.33_-_Caesar_versus_the_Divine
06.01_-_The_End_of_a_Civilisation
06.01_-_The_Word_of_Fate
06.02_-_The_Way_of_Fate_and_the_Problem_of_Pain
06.04_-_The_Conscious_Being
06.20_-_Mind,_Origin_of_Separative_Consciousness
06.29_-_Towards_Redemption
07.01_-_The_Joy_of_Union;_the_Ordeal_of_the_Foreknowledge
07.02_-_The_Parable_of_the_Search_for_the_Soul
07.03_-_The_Entry_into_the_Inner_Countries
07.04_-_The_Triple_Soul-Forces
07.05_-_The_Finding_of_the_Soul
07.06_-_Nirvana_and_the_Discovery_of_the_All-Negating_Absolute
07.07_-_The_Discovery_of_the_Cosmic_Spirit_and_the_Cosmic_Consciousness
07.19_-_Bad_Thought-Formation
09.01_-_Towards_the_Black_Void
09.02_-_The_Journey_in_Eternal_Night_and_the_Voice_of_the_Darkness
100.00_-_Synergy
10.01_-_A_Dream
1.001_-_The_Aim_of_Yoga
10.02_-_Beyond_Vedanta
1.002_-_The_Heifer
10.03_-_The_Debate_of_Love_and_Death
10.04_-_The_Dream_Twilight_of_the_Earthly_Real
10.04_-_Transfiguration
1.004_-_Women
1.005_-_The_Table
1.006_-_Livestock
10.07_-_The_Demon
1.007_-_The_Elevations
1.008_-_The_Principle_of_Self-Affirmation
1.00a_-_Introduction
1.00b_-_Introduction
1.00c_-_DIVISION_C_-_THE_ETHERIC_BODY_AND_PRANA
1.00d_-_Introduction
1.00e_-_DIVISION_E_-_MOTION_ON_THE_PHYSICAL_AND_ASTRAL_PLANES
1.00_-_Main
1.00_-_Preliminary_Remarks
1.00_-_PRELUDE_AT_THE_THEATRE
1.00_-_The_way_of_what_is_to_come
10.11_-_Savitri
1.012_-_Joseph
1.013_-_Defence_Mechanisms_of_the_Mind
1.013_-_Thunder
1.015_-_The_Rock
1.016_-_The_Bee
1.01_-_A_NOTE_ON_PROGRESS
1.01_-_Archetypes_of_the_Collective_Unconscious
1.01_-_BOOK_THE_FIRST
1.01_-_Description_of_the_Castle
1.01_-_Economy
1.01f_-_Introduction
1.01_-_Fundamental_Considerations
1.01_-_MAPS_OF_EXPERIENCE_-_OBJECT_AND_MEANING
1.01_-_MASTER_AND_DISCIPLE
1.01_-_Newtonian_and_Bergsonian_Time
1.01_-_On_knowledge_of_the_soul,_and_how_knowledge_of_the_soul_is_the_key_to_the_knowledge_of_God.
1.01_-_On_renunciation_of_the_world
1.01_-_Our_Demand_and_Need_from_the_Gita
1.01_-_Principles_of_Practical_Psycho_therapy
1.01_-_Proem
1.01_-_SAMADHI_PADA
1.01_-_Soul_and_God
1.01_-_Tara_the_Divine
1.01_-_THAT_ARE_THOU
1.01_-_The_Corporeal_Being_of_Man
1.01_-_The_Cycle_of_Society
1.01_-_The_Dark_Forest._The_Hill_of_Difficulty._The_Panther,_the_Lion,_and_the_Wolf._Virgil.
1.01_-_The_Four_Aids
1.01_-_The_Highest_Meaning_of_the_Holy_Truths
1.01_-_The_King_of_the_Wood
1.01_-_THE_STUFF_OF_THE_UNIVERSE
1.01_-_Two_Powers_Alone
1.01_-_What_is_Magick?
1.020_-_The_World_and_Our_World
1.023_-_The_Believers
1.02.4.2_-_Action_and_the_Divine_Will
10.24_-_Savitri
1.025_-_Sadhana_-_Intensifying_a_Lighted_Flame
1.027_-_The_Ant
1.028_-_Bringing_About_Whole-Souled_Dedication
10.28_-_Love_and_Love
1.02.9_-_Conclusion_and_Summary
1.02_-_BEFORE_THE_CITY-GATE
1.02_-_BOOK_THE_SECOND
1.02_-_Groups_and_Statistical_Mechanics
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_-_Self-Consecration
1.02_-_Skillful_Means
1.02_-_SOCIAL_HEREDITY_AND_PROGRESS
1.02_-_Substance_Is_Eternal
1.02_-_Taras_Tantra
1.02_-_The_7_Habits__An_Overview
1.02_-_The_Age_of_Individualism_and_Reason
1.02_-_The_Child_as_growing_being_and_the_childs_experience_of_encountering_the_teacher.
1.02_-_The_Development_of_Sri_Aurobindos_Thought
1.02_-_The_Doctrine_of_the_Mystics
1.02_-_The_Pit
1.02_-_The_Refusal_of_the_Call
1.02_-_The_Stages_of_Initiation
1.02_-_The_Three_European_Worlds
1.02_-_The_Two_Negations_1_-_The_Materialist_Denial
1.02_-_The_Ultimate_Path_is_Without_Difficulty
1.02_-_The_Virtues
1.02_-_THE_WITHIN_OF_THINGS
1.02_-_Twenty-two_Letters
10.31_-_The_Mystery_of_The_Five_Senses
10.32_-_The_Mystery_of_the_Five_Elements
1.037_-_Preventing_the_Fall_in_Yoga
10.37_-_The_Golden_Bridge
1.038_-_Impediments_in_Concentration_and_Meditation
1.039_-_Throngs
1.03_-_A_Parable
1.03_-_APPRENTICESHIP_AND_ENCULTURATION_-_ADOPTION_OF_A_SHARED_MAP
1.03_-_Bloodstream_Sermon
1.03_-_BOOK_THE_THIRD
1.03_-_Hymns_of_Gritsamada
1.03_-_Invocation_of_Tara
1.03_-_Measure_of_time,_Moments_of_Kashthas,_etc.
1.03_-_Meeting_the_Master_-_Meeting_with_others
1.03_-_Preparing_for_the_Miraculous
1.03_-_Questions_and_Answers
1.03_-_Self-Surrender_in_Works_-_The_Way_of_The_Gita
1.03_-_Sympathetic_Magic
1.03_-_Tara,_Liberator_from_the_Eight_Dangers
1.03_-_THE_EARTH_IN_ITS_EARLY_STAGES
1.03_-_The_Gate_of_Hell._The_Inefficient_or_Indifferent._Pope_Celestine_V._The_Shores_of_Acheron._Charon._The
1.03_-_THE_GRAND_OPTION
1.03_-_THE_ORPHAN,_THE_WIDOW,_AND_THE_MOON
1.03_-_The_Tale_of_the_Alchemist_Who_Sold_His_Soul
1.03_-_The_Two_Negations_2_-_The_Refusal_of_the_Ascetic
1.03_-_The_Void
1.03_-_Time_Series,_Information,_and_Communication
1.03_-_To_Layman_Ishii
1.03_-_VISIT_TO_VIDYASAGAR
1.040_-_Forgiver
1.040_-_Re-Educating_the_Mind
1.042_-_Consultation
1.045_-_Piercing_the_Structure_of_the_Object
1.049_-_The_Chambers
1.04_-_ADVICE_TO_HOUSEHOLDERS
1.04_-_BOOK_THE_FOURTH
1.04_-_Feedback_and_Oscillation
1.04_-_GOD_IN_THE_WORLD
1.04_-_KAI_VALYA_PADA
1.04_-_Magic_and_Religion
1.04_-_Money
1.04_-_On_blessed_and_ever-memorable_obedience
1.04_-_Reality_Omnipresent
1.04_-_SOME_REFLECTIONS_ON_PROGRESS
1.04_-_Sounds
1.04_-_Te_Shan_Carrying_His_Bundle
1.04_-_The_33_seven_double_letters
1.04_-_The_Aims_of_Psycho_therapy
1.04_-_THE_APPEARANCE_OF_ANOMALY_-_CHALLENGE_TO_THE_SHARED_MAP
1.04_-_The_Crossing_of_the_First_Threshold
1.04_-_The_Discovery_of_the_Nation-Soul
1.04_-_The_Divine_Mother_-_This_Is_She
1.04_-_The_Paths
1.04_-_The_Praise
1.04_-_The_Qabalah__The_Best_Training_for_Memory
1.04_-_The_Sacrifice_the_Triune_Path_and_the_Lord_of_the_Sacrifice
1.04_-_The_Self
1.04_-_THE_STUDY_(The_Compact)
1.04_-_Wake-Up_Sermon
1.052_-_Yoga_Practice_-_A_Series_of_Positive_Steps
1.054_-_The_Moon
1.05_-_Adam_Kadmon
1.05_-_Buddhism_and_Women
1.05_-_Character_Of_The_Atoms
1.05_-_CHARITY
1.05_-_Dharana
1.05_-_Hsueh_Feng's_Grain_of_Rice
1.05_-_Hymns_of_Bharadwaja
1.05_-_On_painstaking_and_true_repentance_which_constitute_the_life_of_the_holy_convicts;_and_about_the_prison.
1.05_-_Ritam
1.05_-_Solitude
1.05_-_Some_Results_of_Initiation
1.05_-_The_Ascent_of_the_Sacrifice_-_The_Psychic_Being
1.05_-_The_Creative_Principle
1.05_-_The_Destiny_of_the_Individual
1.05_-_THE_HOSTILE_BROTHERS_-_ARCHETYPES_OF_RESPONSE_TO_THE_UNKNOWN
1.05_-_The_Magical_Control_of_the_Weather
1.05_-_THE_NEW_SPIRIT
1.05_-_The_Second_Circle__The_Wanton._Minos._The_Infernal_Hurricane._Francesca_da_Rimini.
1.05_-_True_and_False_Subjectivism
1.05_-_Vishnu_as_Brahma_creates_the_world
1.05_-_Yoga_and_Hypnotism
1.060_-_Tracing_the_Ultimate_Cause_of_Any_Experience
1.06_-_Being_Human_and_the_Copernican_Principle
1.06_-_Dhyana
1.06_-_LIFE_AND_THE_PLANETS
1.06_-_Magicians_as_Kings
1.06_-_Man_in_the_Universe
1.06_-_MORTIFICATION,_NON-ATTACHMENT,_RIGHT_LIVELIHOOD
1.06_-_On_Work
1.06_-_The_Ascent_of_the_Sacrifice_2_The_Works_of_Love_-_The_Works_of_Life
1.06_-_THE_MASTER_WITH_THE_BRAHMO_DEVOTEES
1.06_-_The_Sign_of_the_Fishes
1.06_-_The_Three_Schools_of_Magick_1
1.06_-_The_Transformation_of_Dream_Life
1.06_-_Yun_Men's_Every_Day_is_a_Good_Day
1.078_-_Kumbhaka_and_Concentration_of_Mind
1.078_-_The_Event
1.07_-_A_Song_of_Longing_for_Tara,_the_Infallible
1.07_-_BOOK_THE_SEVENTH
1.07_-_Hui_Ch'ao_Asks_about_Buddha
1.07_-_Incarnate_Human_Gods
1.07_-_Samadhi
1.07_-_The_Farther_Reaches_of_Human_Nature
1.07_-_The_Fire_of_the_New_World
1.07_-_The_Ideal_Law_of_Social_Development
1.07_-_The_Primary_Data_of_Being
1.07_-_The_Prophecies_of_Nostradamus
1.081_-_The_Application_of_Pratyahara
1.083_-_Choosing_an_Object_for_Concentration
1.089_-_The_Levels_of_Concentration
1.08a_-_The_Ladder
1.08_-_Attendants
1.08_-_BOOK_THE_EIGHTH
1.08_-_Civilisation_and_Barbarism
1.08_-_Information,_Language,_and_Society
1.08_-_Phlegyas._Philippo_Argenti._The_Gate_of_the_City_of_Dis.
1.08_-_SOME_REFLECTIONS_ON_THE_SPIRITUAL_REPERCUSSIONS_OF_THE_ATOM_BOMB
1.08_-_Sri_Aurobindos_Descent_into_Death
1.08_-_The_Depths_of_the_Divine
1.08_-_The_Gods_of_the_Veda_-_The_Secret_of_the_Veda
1.08_-_The_Historical_Significance_of_the_Fish
1.08_-_The_Methods_of_Vedantic_Knowledge
1.08_-_The_Supreme_Discovery
1.08_-_The_Synthesis_of_Movement
1.098_-_The_Transformation_from_Human_to_Divine
1.09_-_ADVICE_TO_THE_BRAHMOS
1.09_-_Concentration_-_Its_Spiritual_Uses
1.09_-_Equality_and_the_Annihilation_of_Ego
1.09_-_Fundamental_Questions_of_Psycho_therapy
1.09_-_Legend_of_Lakshmi
1.09_-_Sleep_and_Death
1.09_-_Sri_Aurobindo_and_the_Big_Bang
1.09_-_Taras_Ultimate_Nature
1.09_-_The_Ambivalence_of_the_Fish_Symbol
1.09_-_The_Furies_and_Medusa._The_Angel._The_City_of_Dis._The_Sixth_Circle__Heresiarchs.
1.09_-_The_Pure_Existent
1.1.01_-_Seeking_the_Divine
11.01_-_The_Eternal_Day__The_Souls_Choice_and_the_Supreme_Consummation
11.02_-_The_Golden_Life-line
1.107_-_The_Bestowal_of_a_Divine_Gift
11.08_-_Body-Energy
11.09_-_Towards_the_Immortal_Body
1.10_-_Aesthetic_and_Ethical_Culture
1.10_-_BOOK_THE_TENTH
1.10_-_GRACE_AND_FREE_WILL
1.10_-_On_slander_or_calumny.
1.10_-_The_Absolute_of_the_Being
1.10_-_THE_FORMATION_OF_THE_NOOSPHERE
1.10_-_THE_MASTER_WITH_THE_BRAHMO_DEVOTEES_(II)
1.10_-_The_Revolutionary_Yogi
1.10_-_The_Secret_of_the_Veda
11.13_-_In_these_Fateful_Days
11.15_-_Sri_Aurobindo
1.11_-_Correspondence_and_Interviews
1.11_-_Oneness
1.11_-_The_Change_of_Power
1.11_-_The_Kalki_Avatar
1.12_-_BOOK_THE_TWELFTH
1.1.2_-_Commentary
1.12_-_GARDEN
1.12_-_Independence
1.12_-_THE_FESTIVAL_AT_PNIHTI
1.12_-_The_Left-Hand_Path_-_The_Black_Brothers
1.12_-_The_Office_and_Limitations_of_the_Reason
1.12_-_TIME_AND_ETERNITY
1.13_-_BOOK_THE_THIRTEENTH
1.13_-_Gnostic_Symbols_of_the_Self
1.13_-_Knowledge,_Error,_and_Probably_Opinion
1.13_-_Reason_and_Religion
1.13_-_SALVATION,_DELIVERANCE,_ENLIGHTENMENT
1.13_-_System_of_the_O.T.O.
1.13_-_The_Divine_Maya
1.14_-_Bibliography
1.14_-_On_the_clamorous,_yet_wicked_master-the_stomach.
1.14_-_The_Principle_of_Divine_Works
1.14_-_The_Sand_Waste_and_the_Rain_of_Fire._The_Violent_against_God._Capaneus._The_Statue_of_Time,_and_the_Four_Infernal_Rivers.
1.14_-_The_Secret
1.14_-_The_Structure_and_Dynamics_of_the_Self
1.14_-_The_Supermind_as_Creator
1.14_-_TURMOIL_OR_GENESIS?
1.15_-_Index
1.15_-_LAST_VISIT_TO_KESHAB
1.15_-_THE_DIRECTIONS_AND_CONDITIONS_OF_THE_FUTURE
1.15_-_The_Possibility_and_Purpose_of_Avatarhood
1.15_-_The_Supramental_Consciousness
1.15_-_The_Supreme_Truth-Consciousness
1.15_-_The_Transformed_Being
1.15_-_The_world_overrun_with_trees;_they_are_destroyed_by_the_Pracetasas
1.16_-_Advantages_and_Disadvantages_of_Evocational_Magic
1.16_-_Dianus_and_Diana
1.16_-_PRAYER
1.16_-_The_Triple_Status_of_Supermind
1.17_-_DOES_MANKIND_MOVE_BIOLOGICALLY_UPON_ITSELF?
1.17_-_Legend_of_Prahlada
1.17_-_M._AT_DAKSHINEWAR
1.17_-_SUFFERING
1.17_-_The_Transformation
1.18_-_Mind_and_Supermind
1.18_-_The_Divine_Worker
1.18_-_The_Eighth_Circle,_Malebolge__The_Fraudulent_and_the_Malicious._The_First_Bolgia__Seducers_and_Panders._Venedico_Caccianimico._Jason._The_Second_Bolgia__Flatterers._Allessio_Interminelli._Thais.
1.18_-_The_Human_Fathers
1.18_-_The_Importance_of_our_Conventional_Greetings,_etc.
1.19_-_Dialogue_between_Prahlada_and_his_father
1.19_-_Life
1.19_-_The_Victory_of_the_Fathers
1.200-1.224_Talks
12.01_-_The_Return_to_Earth
12.01_-_This_Great_Earth_Our_Mother
1.2.02_-_Qualities_Needed_for_Sadhana
1.2.09_-_Consecration_and_Offering
1.20_-_Death,_Desire_and_Incapacity
1.20_-_Tabooed_Persons
1.20_-_TANTUM_RELIGIO_POTUIT_SUADERE_MALORUM
1.20_-_The_End_of_the_Curve_of_Reason
1.20_-_The_Hound_of_Heaven
1.21_-_IDOLATRY
1.21_-_The_Ascent_of_Life
1.21_-_The_Spiritual_Aim_and_Life
1.21_-_WALPURGIS-NIGHT
1.22__-_Dominion_over_different_provinces_of_creation_assigned_to_different_beings
1.22_-_Tabooed_Words
1.22_-_THE_END_OF_THE_SPECIES
1.23_-_Conditions_for_the_Coming_of_a_Spiritual_Age
1.23_-_The_Double_Soul_in_Man
1.23_-_THE_MIRACULOUS
1.240_-_1.300_Talks
1.240_-_Talks_2
1.24_-_Matter
1.2.4_-_Speech_and_Yoga
1.24_-_The_Advent_and_Progress_of_the_Spiritual_Age
1.24_-_The_Killing_of_the_Divine_King
1.25_-_ADVICE_TO_PUNDIT_SHASHADHAR
1.25_-_On_the_destroyer_of_the_passions,_most_sublime_humility,_which_is_rooted_in_spiritual_feeling.
1.25_-_SPIRITUAL_EXERCISES
1.25_-_The_Knot_of_Matter
1.26_-_On_discernment_of_thoughts,_passions_and_virtues
1.26_-_Sacrifice_of_the_Kings_Son
1.27_-_AT_DAKSHINESWAR
1.27_-_On_holy_solitude_of_body_and_soul.
1.28_-_Supermind,_Mind_and_the_Overmind_Maya
1.28_-_The_Killing_of_the_Tree-Spirit
1.29_-_The_Myth_of_Adonis
1.2_-_Katha_Upanishads
1.300_-_1.400_Talks
13.03_-_A_Programme_for_the_Second_Century_of_the_Divine_Manifestation
1.31_-_Adonis_in_Cyprus
1.33_-_The_Gardens_of_Adonis
1.3.5.01_-_The_Law_of_the_Way
1.36_-_Human_Representatives_of_Attis
1.37_-_Oriential_Religions_in_the_West
1.3_-_Mundaka_Upanishads
1.4.01_-_The_Divine_Grace_and_Guidance
1.4.02_-_The_Divine_Force
14.04_-_More_of_Yajnavalkya
1.40_-_The_Nature_of_Osiris
1.439
1.44_-_Demeter_and_Persephone
1.450_-_1.500_Talks
1.46_-_The_Corn-Mother_in_Many_Lands
1.49_-_Ancient_Deities_of_Vegetation_as_Animals
1.4_-_Readings_in_the_Taittiriya_Upanishad
15.09_-_One_Day_More
1.50_-_Eating_the_God
1.51_-_How_to_Recognise_Masters,_Angels,_etc.,_and_how_they_Work
1.52_-_Family_-_Public_Enemy_No._1
1.53_-_The_Propitation_of_Wild_Animals_By_Hunters
1.550_-_1.600_Talks
1.55_-_The_Transference_of_Evil
1.56_-_The_Public_Expulsion_of_Evils
1.57_-_Beings_I_have_Seen_with_my_Physical_Eye
1.57_-_Public_Scapegoats
1.58_-_Human_Scapegoats_in_Classical_Antiquity
1.59_-_Geomancy
1.62_-_The_Fire-Festivals_of_Europe
1.63_-_Fear,_a_Bad_Astral_Vision
1.64_-_The_Burning_of_Human_Beings_in_the_Fires
1.66_-_The_External_Soul_in_Folk-Tales
1.66_-_Vampires
1.67_-_The_External_Soul_in_Folk-Custom
1.68_-_The_God-Letters
1.68_-_The_Golden_Bough
1.69_-_Farewell_to_Nemi
17.01_-_Hymn_to_Dawn
17.11_-_A_Prayer
1.74_-_Obstacles_on_the_Path
1.78_-_Sore_Spots
18.05_-_Ashram_Poets
1.83_-_Epistola_Ultima
1914_01_29p
1914_02_01p
1914_05_04p
1914_05_09p
1914_05_22p
1914_05_23p
1914_10_14p
1916_12_30p
19.22_-_Of_Hell
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
1951-03-10_-_Fairy_Tales-_serpent_guarding_treasure_-_Vital_beings-_their_incarnations_-_The_vital_being_after_death_-_Nightmares-_vital_and_mental_-_Mind_and_vital_after_death_-_The_spirit_of_the_form-_Egyptian_mummies
1951-05-03_-_Money_and_its_use_for_the_divine_work_-_problems_-_Mastery_over_desire-_individual_and_collective_change
1953-08-12
1953-11-04
1954-05-05_-_Faith,_trust,_confidence_-_Insincerity_and_unconsciousness
1954-07-28_-_Money_-_Ego_and_individuality_-_The_shadow
1955-07-06_-_The_psychic_and_the_central_being_or_jivatman_-_Unity_and_multiplicity_in_the_Divine_-_Having_experiences_and_the_ego_-_Mental,_vital_and_physical_exteriorisation_-_Imagination_has_a_formative_power_-_The_function_of_the_imagination
1956-02-08_-_Forces_of_Nature_expressing_a_higher_Will_-_Illusion_of_separate_personality_-_One_dynamic_force_which_moves_all_things_-_Linear_and_spherical_thinking_-_Common_ideal_of_life,_microscopic
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
1956-05-02_-_Threefold_union_-_Manifestation_of_the_Supramental_-_Profiting_from_the_Divine_-_Recognition_of_the_Supramental_Force_-_Ascent,_descent,_manifestation
1956-09-05_-_Material_life,_seeing_in_the_right_way_-_Effect_of_the_Supermind_on_the_earth_-_Emergence_of_the_Supermind_-_Falling_back_into_the_same_mistaken_ways
1957-03-13_-_Our_best_friend
1958-02-19_-_Experience_of_the_supramental_boat_-_The_Censors_-_Absurdity_of_artificial_means
1958_10_24
1960_01_05
1969_12_28
1970_01_13?
1970_03_18
1970_04_28
1.A_-_ANTHROPOLOGY,_THE_SOUL
1.ac_-_Logos
1.ac_-_The_Buddhist
1.ac_-_The_Ladder
1.ac_-_The_Neophyte
1.anon_-_Less_profitable
1.anon_-_Others_have_told_me
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_Tablet_II
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_Tablet_III
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_TabletIX
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_Tablet_VII
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_Tablet_X
1.anon_-_The_Epic_of_Gilgamesh_Tablet_XI_The_Story_of_the_Flood
1.asak_-_The_day_Love_was_illumined
1.at_-_And_Galahad_fled_along_them_bridge_by_bridge_(from_The_Holy_Grail)
1.at_-_St._Agnes_Eve
1.bts_-_The_Bent_of_Nature
1f.lovecraft_-_At_the_Mountains_of_Madness
1f.lovecraft_-_Celephais
1f.lovecraft_-_Collapsing_Cosmoses
1f.lovecraft_-_Ex_Oblivione
1f.lovecraft_-_From_Beyond
1f.lovecraft_-_He
1f.lovecraft_-_Herbert_West-Reanimator
1f.lovecraft_-_In_the_Walls_of_Eryx
1f.lovecraft_-_Medusas_Coil
1f.lovecraft_-_Out_of_the_Aeons
1f.lovecraft_-_Pickmans_Model
1f.lovecraft_-_Poetry_and_the_Gods
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Battle_that_Ended_the_Century
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Beast_in_the_Cave
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Book
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Call_of_Cthulhu
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Case_of_Charles_Dexter_Ward
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Cats_of_Ulthar
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Challenge_from_Beyond
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Descendant
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Diary_of_Alonzo_Typer
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Doom_That_Came_to_Sarnath
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dream-Quest_of_Unknown_Kadath
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dreams_in_the_Witch_House
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Dunwich_Horror
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Haunter_of_the_Dark
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Horror_at_Red_Hook
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Horror_in_the_Burying-Ground
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Horror_in_the_Museum
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Last_Test
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Lurking_Fear
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Man_of_Stone
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Mound
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Mysterious_Ship
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Mystery_of_the_Grave-Yard
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Nameless_City
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Rats_in_the_Walls
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shadow_out_of_Time
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shadow_over_Innsmouth
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Shunned_House
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Silver_Key
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Street
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Temple
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Terrible_Old_Man
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Thing_on_the_Doorstep
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Trap
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Very_Old_Folk
1f.lovecraft_-_The_Whisperer_in_Darkness
1f.lovecraft_-_The_White_Ship
1f.lovecraft_-_Through_the_Gates_of_the_Silver_Key
1f.lovecraft_-_Under_the_Pyramids
1.fs_-_Cassandra
1.fs_-_Different_Destinies
1.fs_-_Hero_And_Leander
1.fs_-_Naenia
1.fs_-_Parables_And_Riddles
1.fs_-_The_Artists
1.fs_-_The_Assignation
1.fs_-_The_Celebrated_Woman_-_An_Epistle_By_A_Married_Man
1.fs_-_The_Fight_With_The_Dragon
1.fs_-_The_Glove_-_A_Tale
1.fs_-_The_Hostage
1.fs_-_The_Knight_Of_Toggenburg
1.fs_-_The_Lay_Of_The_Bell
1.fs_-_The_Lay_Of_The_Mountain
1.fs_-_The_Pilgrim
1.fs_-_The_Walk
1.fs_-_To_My_Friends
1.fua_-_The_Valley_of_the_Quest
1.he_-_Hakuins_Song_of_Zazen
1.hs_-_Cypress_And_Tulip
1.hs_-_If_life_remains,_I_shall_go_back_to_the_tavern
1.hs_-_Lifes_Mighty_Flood
1.hs_-_Naked_in_the_Bee-House
1.hs_-_Not_Worth_The_Toil!
1.hs_-_The_Rose_Has_Flushed_Red
1.jk_-_An_Extempore
1.jk_-_Endymion_-_Book_I
1.jk_-_Endymion_-_Book_II
1.jk_-_Endymion_-_Book_III
1.jk_-_Endymion_-_Book_IV
1.jk_-_Epistle_To_John_Hamilton_Reynolds
1.jk_-_Hyperion,_A_Vision_-_Attempted_Reconstruction_Of_The_Poem
1.jk_-_Hyperion._Book_I
1.jk_-_Hyperion._Book_III
1.jk_-_I_Stood_Tip-Toe_Upon_A_Little_Hill
1.jk_-_King_Stephen
1.jk_-_Lamia._Part_I
1.jk_-_Lamia._Part_II
1.jk_-_Otho_The_Great_-_Act_I
1.jk_-_Otho_The_Great_-_Act_II
1.jk_-_Sleep_And_Poetry
1.jk_-_Sonnet_I._To_My_Brother_George
1.jk_-_The_Eve_Of_Saint_Mark._A_Fragment
1.jlb_-_Limits
1.jlb_-_Plainness
1.jlb_-_Simplicity
1.jlb_-_The_Golem
1.jm_-_Response_to_a_Logician
1.kaa_-_I_Came
1.kbr_-_Knowing_Nothing_Shuts_The_Iron_Gates
1.lb_-_Changgan_Memories
1.lb_-_Chuang_Tzu_And_The_Butterfly
1.lb_-_Down_Zhongnan_Mountain
1.lb_-_Farewell_to_Meng_Hao-jan_at_Yellow_Crane_Tower_by_Li_Po
1.lb_-_His_Dream_Of_Skyland
1.lb_-_Lament_of_the_Frontier_Guard
1.lb_-_Looking_For_A_Monk_And_Not_Finding_Him
1.lb_-_Moon_Over_Mountain_Pass
1.lb_-_Old_Poem
1.lb_-_Poem_by_The_Bridge_at_Ten-Shin
1.lb_-_South-Folk_in_Cold_Country
1.lb_-_The_River-Merchant's_Wife:_A_Letter
1.lb_-_The_River_Song
1.lb_-_Viewing_Heaven's_Gate_Mountains
1.lla_-_I,_Lalla,_willingly_entered_through_the_garden-gate
1.lovecraft_-_Ex_Oblivione
1.lovecraft_-_Fungi_From_Yuggoth
1.lovecraft_-_Nemesis
1.lovecraft_-_Psychopompos-_A_Tale_in_Rhyme
1.lovecraft_-_Waste_Paper-_A_Poem_Of_Profound_Insignificance
1.mbn_-_Prayers_for_the_Protection_and_Opening_of_the_Heart
1.mdl_-_The_Gates_(from_Openings)
1.ms_-_The_Gate_of_Universal_Light
1.okym_-_31_-_Up_from_Earths_Centre_through_the_Seventh_Gate
1.pbs_-_A_Bridal_Song
1.pbs_-_Alastor_-_or,_the_Spirit_of_Solitude
1.pbs_-_A_Vision_Of_The_Sea
1.pbs_-_Charles_The_First
1.pbs_-_Epipsychidion
1.pbs_-_Epipsychidion_(Excerpt)
1.pbs_-_Epithalamium
1.pbs_-_Epithalamium_-_Another_Version
1.pbs_-_Ghasta_Or,_The_Avenging_Demon!!!
1.pbs_-_Hellas_-_A_Lyrical_Drama
1.pbs_-_Hymn_To_Mercury
1.pbs_-_Letter_To_Maria_Gisborne
1.pbs_-_Lines_Written_Among_The_Euganean_Hills
1.pbs_-_Mariannes_Dream
1.pbs_-_Ode_To_Naples
1.pbs_-_Ode_to_the_West_Wind
1.pbs_-_Oedipus_Tyrannus_or_Swellfoot_The_Tyrant
1.pbs_-_Peter_Bell_The_Third
1.pbs_-_Prometheus_Unbound
1.pbs_-_Queen_Mab_-_Part_IV.
1.pbs_-_Queen_Mab_-_Part_IX.
1.pbs_-_Revenge
1.pbs_-_Rosalind_and_Helen_-_a_Modern_Eclogue
1.pbs_-_Saint_Edmonds_Eve
1.pbs_-_Song._Cold,_Cold_Is_The_Blast_When_December_Is_Howling
1.pbs_-_Summer_And_Winter
1.pbs_-_The_Cenci_-_A_Tragedy_In_Five_Acts
1.pbs_-_The_Daemon_Of_The_World
1.pbs_-_The_Revolt_Of_Islam_-_Canto_I-XII
1.pbs_-_The_Sunset
1.pbs_-_The_Tower_Of_Famine
1.pbs_-_The_Triumph_Of_Life
1.pbs_-_The_Zucca
1.pbs_-_To_Edward_Williams
1.pc_-_Staying_at_Bamboo_Lodge
1.poe_-_Eureka_-_A_Prose_Poem
1.poe_-_Tamerlane
1.poe_-_To_--_(3)
1.poe_-_To_Helen_-_1831
1.poe_-_To_Helen_-_1848
1.rb_-_A_Grammarian's_Funeral_Shortly_After_The_Revival_Of_Learning
1.rb_-_Aix_In_Provence
1.rb_-_Andrea_del_Sarto
1.rb_-_An_Epistle_Containing_the_Strange_Medical_Experience_of_Kar
1.rb_-_A_Serenade_At_The_Villa
1.rb_-_Bishop_Orders_His_Tomb_at_Saint_Praxed's_Church,_Rome,_The
1.rb_-_Childe_Roland_To_The_Dark_Tower_Came
1.rb_-_Confessions
1.rb_-_Fra_Lippo_Lippi
1.rb_-_How_They_Brought_The_Good_News_From_Ghent_To_Aix
1.rb_-_Love_Among_The_Ruins
1.rb_-_Old_Pictures_In_Florence
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_III_-_Paracelsus
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_I_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_IV_-_Paracelsus_Aspires
1.rb_-_Paracelsus_-_Part_V_-_Paracelsus_Attains
1.rb_-_Pippa_Passes_-_Part_III_-_Evening
1.rb_-_Rhyme_for_a_Child_Viewing_a_Naked_Venus_in_a_Painting_of_'The_Judgement_of_Paris'
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fifth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_First
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Fourth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Second
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Sixth
1.rb_-_Sordello_-_Book_the_Third
1.rb_-_The_Flight_Of_The_Duchess
1.rb_-_The_Patriot
1.rb_-_The_Pied_Piper_Of_Hamelin
1.rmpsd_-_O_Death!_Get_away-_what_canst_thou_do?
1.rt_-_(101)_Ever_in_my_life_have_I_sought_thee_with_my_songs_(from_Gitanjali)
1.rt_-_A_Dream
1.rt_-_A_Hundred_Years_Hence
1.rt_-_Endless_Time
1.rt_-_Fireflies
1.rt_-_Gitanjali
1.rt_-_I_Am_Restless
1.rt_-_Lovers_Gifts_XL_-_A_Message_Came
1.rt_-_Shyama
1.rt_-_Stray_Birds_81_-_90
1.rt_-_The_Gardener_IV_-_Ah_Me
1.rt_-_The_Gardener_XIII_-_I_Asked_Nothing
1.rt_-_Vocation
1.rwe_-_Dmonic_Love
1.rwe_-_May-Day
1.rwe_-_Mithridates
1.rwe_-_Quatrains
1.rwe_-_Solution
1.rwe_-_Song_of_Nature
1.rwe_-_The_Days_Ration
1.rwe_-_The_Snowstorm
1.rwe_-_Threnody
1.sb_-_Refining_the_Spirit
1.sv_-_Song_of_the_Sanyasin
1.tr_-_First_Days_Of_Spring_-_The_sky
1.wb_-_Auguries_of_Innocence
1.wby_-_Anashuya_And_Vijaya
1.wby_-_Baile_And_Aillinn
1.wby_-_Fiddler_Of_Dooney
1.wby_-_The_Old_Age_Of_Queen_Maeve
1.wby_-_The_Wanderings_Of_Oisin_-_Book_I
1.wby_-_The_Wanderings_Of_Oisin_-_Book_III
1.wby_-_Three_Songs_To_The_One_Burden
1.wby_-_Under_The_Moon
1.whitman_-_Apostroph
1.whitman_-_As_I_Sat_Alone_By_Blue_Ontarios_Shores
1.whitman_-_Crossing_Brooklyn_Ferry
1.whitman_-_Eidolons
1.whitman_-_I_Sing_The_Body_Electric
1.whitman_-_Savantism
1.whitman_-_Song_At_Sunset
1.whitman_-_Song_of_Myself
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XLVI
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XV
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XXVIII
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XXXIII
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_Myself-_XXXV
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_The_Broad-Axe
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_The_Exposition
1.whitman_-_Song_Of_The_Open_Road
1.whitman_-_The_City_Dead-House
1.whitman_-_These,_I,_Singing_In_Spring
1.whitman_-_The_Sleepers
1.whitman_-_To_A_Historian
1.whitman_-_To_Think_Of_Time
1.wh_-_The_Great_Way_has_no_gate
1.ww_-_1-_The_White_Doe_Of_Rylstone,_Or,_The_Fate_Of_The_Nortons
1.ww_-_2-_The_White_Doe_Of_Rylstone,_Or,_The_Fate_Of_The_Nortons
1.ww_-_3-_The_White_Doe_Of_Rylstone,_Or,_The_Fate_Of_The_Nortons
1.ww_-_An_Evening_Walk
1.ww_-_Argument_For_Suicide
1.ww_-_A_Whirl-Blast_From_Behind_The_Hill
1.ww_-_Book_Eighth-_Retrospect--Love_Of_Nature_Leading_To_Love_Of_Man
1.ww_-_Book_Fifth-Books
1.ww_-_Book_First_[Introduction-Childhood_and_School_Time]
1.ww_-_Book_Ninth_[Residence_in_France]
1.ww_-_Book_Seventh_[Residence_in_London]
1.ww_-_Book_Sixth_[Cambridge_and_the_Alps]
1.ww_-_Book_Tenth_{Residence_in_France_continued]
1.ww_-_Book_Third_[Residence_at_Cambridge]
1.ww_-_Book_Twelfth_[Imagination_And_Taste,_How_Impaired_And_Restored_]
1.ww_-_Dion_[See_Plutarch]
1.ww_-_Even_As_A_Dragons_Eye_That_Feels_The_Stress
1.ww_-_Guilt_And_Sorrow,_Or,_Incidents_Upon_Salisbury_Plain
1.ww_-_Hoffer
1.ww_-_Memorials_Of_A_Tour_In_Scotland
1.ww_-_Michael-_A_Pastoral_Poem
1.ww_-_Repentance
1.ww_-_Stone_Gate_Temple_in_the_Blue_Field_Mountains
1.ww_-_Temple_Tree_Path
1.ww_-_The_Brothers
1.ww_-_The_Excursion-_II-_Book_First-_The_Wanderer
1.ww_-_The_Excursion-_IV-_Book_Third-_Despondency
1.ww_-_The_Excursion-_VII-_Book_Sixth-_The_Churchyard_Among_the_Mountains
1.ww_-_The_Horn_Of_Egremont_Castle
1.ww_-_The_Longest_Day
1.ww_-_The_Morning_Of_The_Day_Appointed_For_A_General_Thanksgiving._January_18,_1816
1.ww_-_The_Old_Cumberland_Beggar
1.ww_-_The_Recluse_-_Book_First
1.ww_-_The_Wishing_Gate_Destroyed
1.ww_-_To_Dora
1.ww_-_To_Sir_George_Howland_Beaumont,_Bart_From_the_South-West_Coast_Or_Cumberland_1811
1.ww_-_Troilus_And_Cresida
1.ww_-_Vaudracour_And_Julia
1.ww_-_Vernal_Ode
1.ww_-_Yarrow_Revisited
2.01_-_AT_THE_STAR_THEATRE
2.01_-_Indeterminates,_Cosmic_Determinations_and_the_Indeterminable
2.01_-_Mandala_One
2.01_-_On_Books
2.01_-_On_the_Concept_of_the_Archetype
2.01_-_THE_ADVENT_OF_LIFE
2.01_-_The_Attributes_of_Omega_Point_-_a_Transcendent_God
2.01_-_The_Road_of_Trials
2.01_-_The_Therapeutic_value_of_Abreaction
2.02_-_Atomic_Motions
2.02_-_Brahman,_Purusha,_Ishwara_-_Maya,_Prakriti,_Shakti
2.02_-_Habit_2__Begin_with_the_End_in_Mind
2.02_-_Meeting_With_the_Goddess
2.02_-_On_Letters
2.02_-_The_Bhakta.s_Renunciation_results_from_Love
2.02_-_THE_DURGA_PUJA_FESTIVAL
2.02_-_THE_EXPANSION_OF_LIFE
2.02_-_The_Ishavasyopanishad_with_a_commentary_in_English
2.02_-_The_Status_of_Knowledge
2.03_-_DEMETER
2.03_-_Karmayogin__A_Commentary_on_the_Isha_Upanishad
2.03_-_On_Medicine
2.03_-_The_Christian_Phenomenon_and_Faith_in_the_Incarnation
2.03_-_THE_ENIGMA_OF_BOLOGNA
2.03_-_THE_MASTER_IN_VARIOUS_MOODS
2.03_-_The_Mother-Complex
2.04_-_ADVICE_TO_ISHAN
2.04_-_Agni,_the_Illumined_Will
2.04_-_Positive_Aspects_of_the_Mother-Complex
2.04_-_The_Scourge,_the_Dagger_and_the_Chain
2.05_-_Habit_3__Put_First_Things_First
2.05_-_Infinite_Worlds
2.05_-_The_Cosmic_Illusion;_Mind,_Dream_and_Hallucination
2.06_-_Reality_and_the_Cosmic_Illusion
2.06_-_WITH_VARIOUS_DEVOTEES
2.06_-_Works_Devotion_and_Knowledge
2.07_-_The_Supreme_Word_of_the_Gita
2.08_-_ALICE_IN_WONDERLAND
2.08_-_AT_THE_STAR_THEATRE_(II)
2.08_-_The_Branches_of_The_Archetypal_Man
2.08_-_The_Sword
2.09_-_THE_MASTERS_BIRTHDAY
2.0_-_Reincarnation_and_Karma
2.0_-_THE_ANTICHRIST
2.1.01_-_God_The_One_Reality
2.1.02_-_Love_and_Death
2.1.02_-_Nature_The_World-Manifestation
2.10_-_Knowledge_by_Identity_and_Separative_Knowledge
2.10_-_THE_MASTER_AND_NARENDRA
2.11_-_The_Vision_of_the_World-Spirit_-_The_Double_Aspect
2.12_-_On_Miracles
2.12_-_THE_MASTERS_REMINISCENCES
2.12_-_The_Way_and_the_Bhakta
2.13_-_Kingdom-The_Seventh_Sefira
2.13_-_The_Difficulties_of_the_Mental_Being
2.13_-_THE_MASTER_AT_THE_HOUSES_OF_BALARM_AND_GIRISH
2.1.4.2_-_Teaching
2.14_-_AT_RAMS_HOUSE
2.14_-_ON_THE_LAND_OF_EDUCATION
2.14_-_The_Origin_and_Remedy_of_Falsehood,_Error,_Wrong_and_Evil
2.14_-_The_Passive_and_the_Active_Brahman
2.14_-_The_Unpacking_of_God
2.15_-_On_the_Gods_and_Asuras
2.15_-_Reality_and_the_Integral_Knowledge
2.15_-_The_Cosmic_Consciousness
2.16_-_Oneness
2.16_-_VISIT_TO_NANDA_BOSES_HOUSE
2.1.7.08_-_Comments_on_Specific_Lines_and_Passages_of_the_Poem
2.17_-_THE_MASTER_ON_HIMSELF_AND_HIS_EXPERIENCES
2.18_-_January_1939
2.18_-_ON_GREAT_EVENTS
2.18_-_SRI_RAMAKRISHNA_AT_SYAMPUKUR
2.19_-_Feb-May_1939
2.19_-_The_Planes_of_Our_Existence
2.19_-_THE_SOOTHSAYER
2.20_-_Nov-Dec_1939
2.20_-_The_Infancy_and_Maturity_of_ZO,_Father_and_Mother,_Israel_The_Ancient_and_Understanding
2.20_-_THE_MASTERS_TRAINING_OF_HIS_DISCIPLES
2.20_-_The_Philosophy_of_Rebirth
2.21_-_ON_HUMAN_PRUDENCE
2.21_-_The_Ladder_of_Self-transcendence
2.21_-_The_Order_of_the_Worlds
2.21_-_Towards_the_Supreme_Secret
2.22_-_THE_STILLEST_HOUR
2.22_-_The_Supreme_Secret
2.22_-_Vijnana_or_Gnosis
2.2.3_-_The_Aitereya_Upanishad
2.24_-_Back_to_Back__Face_to_Face__and_The_Process_of_Sawing_Through
2.24_-_Gnosis_and_Ananda
2.24_-_The_Evolution_of_the_Spiritual_Man
2.24_-_The_Message_of_the_Gita
2.25_-_Mercies_and_Judgements_of_Knowledge
2.25_-_The_Higher_and_the_Lower_Knowledge
2.25_-_The_Triple_Transformation
2.26_-_Samadhi
2.26_-_The_Ascent_towards_Supermind
2.28_-_The_Divine_Life
2.29_-_The_Worlds_of_Creation,_Formation_and_Action
2.3.03_-_Integral_Yoga
2.3.03_-_The_Mother's_Presence
2.3.05_-_Sadhana_through_Work_for_the_Mother
2.3.07_-_The_Mother_in_Visions,_Dreams_and_Experiences
2.3.08_-_The_Mother's_Help_in_Difficulties
23.12_-_A_Note_On_The_Mother_of_Dreams
2.32_-_Prophetic_Visions
25.11_-_EGO
26.09_-_Le_Periple_d_Or_(Pome_dans_par_Yvonne_Artaud)
29.04_-_Mothers_Playground
2_-_Other_Hymns_to_Agni
3.00_-_Introduction
30.10_-_The_Greatness_of_Poetry
3.01_-_Sincerity
3.01_-_The_Principles_of_Ritual
3.02_-_King_and_Queen
3.02_-_Nature_And_Composition_Of_The_Mind
3.02_-_ON_THE_VISION_AND_THE_RIDDLE
3.02_-_SOL
3.02_-_THE_DEPLOYMENT_OF_THE_NOOSPHERE
3.02_-_The_Great_Secret
3.02_-_The_Psychology_of_Rebirth
3.03_-_On_Thought_-_II
3.03_-_SULPHUR
3.03_-_The_Consummation_of_Mysticism
3.03_-_THE_MODERN_EARTH
3.03_-_The_Spirit_Land
3.04_-_LUNA
3.04_-_On_Thought_-_III
3.05_-_ON_VIRTUE_THAT_MAKES_SMALL
3.05_-_SAL
3.05_-_The_Divine_Personality
3.05_-_The_Formula_of_I.A.O.
3.05_-_The_Physical_World_and_its_Connection_with_the_Soul_and_Spirit-Lands
3.07_-_ON_PASSING_BY
3.08_-_Of_Equilibrium
3.08_-_Purification
3.08_-_The_Mystery_of_Love
3.09_-_The_Return_of_the_Soul
3.0_-_THE_ETERNAL_RECURRENCE
3.1.01_-_Distinctive_Features_of_the_Integral_Yoga
3.1.01_-_The_Problem_of_Suffering_and_Evil
3.1.02_-_Asceticism_and_the_Integral_Yoga
3.1.02_-_Spiritual_Evolution_and_the_Supramental
31.08_-_The_Unity_of_India
3.11_-_Spells
3.1.24_-_In_the_Moonlight
3.14_-_Of_the_Consecrations
3.15_-_Of_the_Invocation
3.16.1_-_Of_the_Oath
3.17_-_Of_the_License_to_Depart
3.18_-_Of_Clairvoyance_and_the_Body_of_Light
3.2.02_-_The_Veda_and_the_Upanishads
3.2.02_-_Yoga_and_Skill_in_Works
32.03_-_In_This_Crisis
32.04_-_The_Human_Body
32.07_-_The_God_of_the_Scientist
3.2.10_-_Christianity_and_Theosophy
3.21_-_Of_Black_Magic
3.2.4_-_Sex
3.3.01_-_The_Superman
3.3.02_-_All-Will_and_Free-Will
33.03_-_Muraripukur_-_I
33.06_-_Alipore_Court
33.09_-_Shyampukur
33.13_-_My_Professors
33.15_-_My_Athletics
33.17_-_Two_Great_Wars
33.18_-_I_Bow_to_the_Mother
3.3.1_-_Agni,_the_Divine_Will-Force
3.4.01_-_Evolution
3.4.03_-_Materialism
3-5_Full_Circle
3.6.01_-_Heraclitus
36.07_-_An_Introduction_To_The_Vedas
37.05_-_Narada_-_Sanatkumara_(Chhandogya_Upanishad)
3.7.1.02_-_The_Reincarnating_Soul
3.7.1.04_-_Rebirth_and_Soul_Evolution
3.7.1.05_-_The_Significance_of_Rebirth
3.7.1.08_-_Karma
3.7.1.09_-_Karma_and_Freedom
3.7.2.01_-_The_Foundation
3.7.2.05_-_Appendix_I_-_The_Tangle_of_Karma
3_-_Commentaries_and_Annotated_Translations
4.01_-_THE_COLLECTIVE_ISSUE
4.02_-_BEYOND_THE_COLLECTIVE_-_THE_HYPER-PERSONAL
4.02_-_Existence_And_Character_Of_The_Images
4.03_-_Prayer_of_Quiet
4.03_-_THE_ULTIMATE_EARTH
4.04_-_Conclusion
4.04_-_THE_REGENERATION_OF_THE_KING
4.05_-_THE_DARK_SIDE_OF_THE_KING
4.05_-_The_Passion_Of_Love
4.06_-_THE_KING_AS_ANTHROPOS
4.07_-_Purification-Intelligence_and_Will
4.07_-_THE_RELATION_OF_THE_KING-SYMBOL_TO_CONSCIOUSNESS
4.09_-_REGINA
4.1.01_-_The_Intellect_and_Yoga
4.1.1_-_The_Difficulties_of_Yoga
4.11_-_The_Perfection_of_Equality
4.12_-_The_Way_of_Equality
4.13_-_The_Action_of_Equality
4.14_-_THE_SONG_OF_MELANCHOLY
4.19_-_The_Nature_of_the_supermind
4.2.01_-_The_Mother_of_Dreams
4.20_-_The_Intuitive_Mind
4.21_-_The_Gradations_of_the_supermind
4.22_-_The_supramental_Thought_and_Knowledge
4.2.3.05_-_Obstacles_to_the_Psychic's_Emergence
4.2.3_-_Vigilance,_Resolution,_Will_and_the_Divine_Help
4.2.5_-_Dealing_with_Depression_and_Despondency
4.2_-_Karma
4.3.1_-_The_Hostile_Forces_and_the_Difficulties_of_Yoga
4.3.2_-_Attacks_by_the_Hostile_Forces
4.3.3_-_Dealing_with_Hostile_Attacks
4.3_-_Bhakti
4.41_-_Chapter_One
5.01_-_EPILOGUE
5.01_-_Proem
5.02_-_Against_Teleological_Concept
5.03_-_ADAM_AS_THE_FIRST_ADEPT
5.04_-_Formation_Of_The_World
5.04_-_Three_Dreams
5.05_-_Supermind_and_Humanity
5.06_-_THE_TRANSFORMATION
5.07_-_Mind_of_Light
5.08_-_Supermind_and_Mind_of_Light
5.1.01.1_-_The_Book_of_the_Herald
5.1.01.2_-_The_Book_of_the_Statesman
5.1.01.3_-_The_Book_of_the_Assembly
5.1.01.4_-_The_Book_of_Partings
5.1.01.5_-_The_Book_of_Achilles
5.1.01.9_-_Book_IX
5.1.02_-_Ahana
5.3.04_-_Roots_in_M
5.4.01_-_Notes_on_Root-Sounds
5_-_The_Phenomenology_of_the_Spirit_in_Fairytales
6.01_-_Proem
6.01_-_THE_ALCHEMICAL_VIEW_OF_THE_UNION_OF_OPPOSITES
6.03_-_Extraordinary_And_Paradoxical_Telluric_Phenomena
6.06_-_SELF-KNOWLEDGE
6.0_-_Conscious,_Unconscious,_and_Individuation
6.10_-_THE_SELF_AND_THE_BOUNDS_OF_KNOWLEDGE
7.02_-_Courage
7.06_-_The_Simple_Life
7.09_-_Right_Judgement
7.10_-_Order
7.12_-_The_Giver
7.16_-_Sympathy
7_-_Yoga_of_Sri_Aurobindo
Aeneid
A_God's_Labour
Apology
Appendix_4_-_Priest_Spells
APPENDIX_I_-_Curriculum_of_A._A.
Avatars_of_the_Tortoise
Big_Mind_(ten_perfections)
Blazing_P2_-_Map_the_Stages_of_Conventional_Consciousness
Blazing_P3_-_Explore_the_Stages_of_Postconventional_Consciousness
Book_1_-_The_Council_of_the_Gods
BOOK_I._-_Augustine_censures_the_pagans,_who_attributed_the_calamities_of_the_world,_and_especially_the_sack_of_Rome_by_the_Goths,_to_the_Christian_religion_and_its_prohibition_of_the_worship_of_the_gods
BOOK_II._-_A_review_of_the_calamities_suffered_by_the_Romans_before_the_time_of_Christ,_showing_that_their_gods_had_plunged_them_into_corruption_and_vice
BOOK_III._-_The_external_calamities_of_Rome
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_IV._-_That_empire_was_given_to_Rome_not_by_the_gods,_but_by_the_One_True_God
BOOK_IX._-_Of_those_who_allege_a_distinction_among_demons,_some_being_good_and_others_evil
Book_of_Exodus
Book_of_Genesis
Book_of_Imaginary_Beings_(text)
Book_of_Proverbs
Book_of_Psalms
BOOK_VII._-_Of_the_select_gods_of_the_civil_theology,_and_that_eternal_life_is_not_obtained_by_worshipping_them
BOOK_VI._-_Of_Varros_threefold_division_of_theology,_and_of_the_inability_of_the_gods_to_contri_bute_anything_to_the_happiness_of_the_future_life
BOOK_V._-_Of_fate,_freewill,_and_God's_prescience,_and_of_the_source_of_the_virtues_of_the_ancient_Romans
BOOK_XI._-_Augustine_passes_to_the_second_part_of_the_work,_in_which_the_origin,_progress,_and_destinies_of_the_earthly_and_heavenly_cities_are_discussed.Speculations_regarding_the_creation_of_the_world
BOOK_XIII._-_That_death_is_penal,_and_had_its_origin_in_Adam's_sin
BOOK_XII._-_Of_the_creation_of_angels_and_men,_and_of_the_origin_of_evil
BOOK_XIV._-_Of_the_punishment_and_results_of_mans_first_sin,_and_of_the_propagation_of_man_without_lust
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
BOOK_XVI._-_The_history_of_the_city_of_God_from_Noah_to_the_time_of_the_kings_of_Israel
BOOK_XV._-_The_progress_of_the_earthly_and_heavenly_cities_traced_by_the_sacred_history
BOOK_XXII._-_Of_the_eternal_happiness_of_the_saints,_the_resurrection_of_the_body,_and_the_miracles_of_the_early_Church
BOOK_XXI._-_Of_the_eternal_punishment_of_the_wicked_in_hell,_and_of_the_various_objections_urged_against_it
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
Chapter_II_-_WHICH_TREATS_OF_THE_FIRST_SALLY_THE_INGENIOUS_DON_QUIXOTE_MADE_FROM_HOME
City_of_God_-_BOOK_I
Conversations_with_Sri_Aurobindo
COSA_-_BOOK_I
COSA_-_BOOK_V
COSA_-_BOOK_X
COSA_-_BOOK_XIII
Cratylus
Diamond_Sutra_1
DS4
Emma_Zunz
ENNEAD_01.01_-_The_Organism_and_the_Self.
ENNEAD_02.03_-_Whether_Astrology_is_of_any_Value.
ENNEAD_03.02_-_Of_Providence.
ENNEAD_03.05_-_Of_Love,_or_Eros.
ENNEAD_04.04_-_Questions_About_the_Soul.
ENNEAD_04.06a_-_Of_Sensation_and_Memory.
ENNEAD_05.07_-_Do_Ideas_of_Individuals_Exist?
ENNEAD_06.01_-_Of_the_Ten_Aristotelian_and_Four_Stoic_Categories.
ENNEAD_06.05_-_The_One_and_Identical_Being_is_Everywhere_Present_In_Its_Entirety.345
ENNEAD_06.07_-_How_Ideas_Multiplied,_and_the_Good.
ENNEAD_06.09_-_Of_the_Good_and_the_One.
Euthyphro
Ex_Oblivione
Gorgias
Guru_Granth_Sahib_first_part
IS_-_Chapter_1
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
Meno
Phaedo
Prayers_and_Meditations_by_Baha_u_llah_text
r1912_12_05
r1912_12_27
r1914_07_15
r1914_11_19
r1914_11_20
r1914_11_21
r1914_12_13
r1915_01_01a
r1915_01_04a
r1915_05_31
r1917_02_10
r1917_02_15
r1919_07_27
r1919_08_01
Ragnarok
Sayings_of_Sri_Ramakrishna_(text)
Sophist
Symposium_translated_by_B_Jowett
Tablet_1_-
Tablets_of_Baha_u_llah_text
Talks_026-050
Talks_076-099
Talks_151-175
Talks_176-200
Talks_225-239
Talks_600-652
Talks_With_Sri_Aurobindo_1
Talks_With_Sri_Aurobindo_2
The_Act_of_Creation_text
Theaetetus
The_Aleph
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_Book_of_Job
The_Book_of_Joshua
The_Book_of_Sand
The_Book_of_the_Prophet_Isaiah
The_Book_of_the_Prophet_Micah
The_Book_(short_story)
The_Coming_Race_Contents
The_Divine_Names_Text_(Dionysis)
The_Dwellings_of_the_Philosophers
The_Epistle_of_James
the_Eternal_Wisdom
The_First_Epistle_of_Peter
The_Five,_Ranks_of_The_Apparent_and_the_Real
The_Garden_of_Forking_Paths_1
The_Garden_of_Forking_Paths_2
The_Golden_Sentences_of_Democrates
The_Gospel_According_to_John
The_Gospel_According_to_Luke
The_Gospel_According_to_Matthew
The_Hidden_Words_text
The_Immortal
The_Letter_to_the_Hebrews
The_Library_of_Babel
The_Logomachy_of_Zos
The_Lottery_in_Babylon
The_One_Who_Walks_Away
The_Pilgrims_Progress
The_Revelation_of_Jesus_Christ_or_the_Apocalypse
The_Riddle_of_this_World
The_Shadow_Out_Of_Time
The_Theologians
The_Waiting
The_Wall_and_the_BOoks
Thus_Spoke_Zarathustra_text
Timaeus
Verses_of_Vemana

PRIMARY CLASS

structure
thing
SIMILAR TITLES
gate
Gate Of
Gates Of
gateway
investigate
software investigate
The Book of Gates
The Gateless Gate
The Great Gate for Accomplishing Supreme Enlightenment
The Six Dharma Gates to the Sublime

DEFINITIONS


TERMS STARTING WITH

gate gate pāragate pārasaMgate bodhi svāhā

gate gate pāragate pārasaMgate bodhi svāhā. (T. ga te ga te pā ra ga te pā ra saM ga te bo dhi svā hā; C. jiedi jiedi boluojiedi boluosengjiedi puti sapohe; J. gyatei gyatei haragyatei harasogyatei boji sowaka; K. aje aje paraaje parasŭngaje moji sabaha 帝帝波羅帝波羅僧帝菩提薩婆訶). A Sanskrit MANTRA contained in the PRAJNĀPĀRAMITĀHṚDAYASuTRA ("Heart Sutra"). At the conclusion of the SuTRA, the BODHISATTVA AVALOKITEsVARA says to sĀRIPUTRA, "Therefore, the mantra of the perfection of wisdom is the mantra of great wisdom, the unsurpassed mantra, the unequalled mantra, the mantra that completely pacifies all suffering. Because it is not false, it should be known to be true. The mantra of the perfection of wisdom is stated thus: gate gate pāragate pārasaMgate bodhi svāhā." Although most mantras are not translatable, this one can be roughly rendered into English as "gone, gone, gone beyond, gone completely beyond, enlightenment, svāhā" (svāhā is an interjection, meaning "hail," commonly placed at the end of a mantra). "Gate" in the mantra is most probably a vocative of gatā addressed to the goddess PRAJNĀPĀRAMITĀ (the iconographic representation of perfect wisdom); hence, the mantra may be addressed to PrajNāpāramitā and mean, "You who have gone, gone, gone beyond," etc. Given the ubiquity of the PrajNāpāramitāhṛdayasutra in MAHĀYĀNA Buddhism and its frequent ritual chanting by monks in both East Asia and Tibet, the mantra has been the subject of extensive commentary. Thus, some commentators correlate the first five words with the five paths (PANCAMĀRGA) to buddhahood: the first "gate" indicates the path of accumulation (SAMBHĀRAMĀRGA); the second "gate," the path of preparation (PRAYOGAMĀRGA); "pāragate," the path of vision (DARsANAMĀRGA); "pārasaMgate," the path of cultivation (BHĀVANĀMĀRGA); and BODHI, the adept path (AsAIKsAMĀRGA). Such an interpretation is in keeping with the Indian scholastic view of the PRAJNĀPĀRAMITĀ sutras, where it is said that the sutras have two teachings, one explicit and one implicit. The explicit teaching is emptiness (suNYATĀ) and the implicit teaching is the various realizations (ABHISAMAYA) of the bodhisattva along the path to buddhahood. From this perspective, everything in the sutra up to the mantra provides the explicit teaching and the mantra provides the implicit teaching. Other commentators state that the first part of the sutra (up to the mantra) is intended for bodhisattvas of dull faculties and that the mantra is intended for bodhisattvas of sharp faculties (TĪKsnENDRIYA). Some of the commentators include "it is thus" (tadyathā) in the mantra and add oM at the beginning. Although the presence of DHĀRAnĪ is relatively common in Mahāyāna sutras, something that is explicitly called a mantra is not, leading some commentators to consider whether the PrajNāpāramitāhṛdayasutra should be classified as a sutra or a TANTRA.

gated ::: a. --> Having gates.

gated ::: /gayt-dee/ Gate daemon.A program which supports multiple routing protocols and protocol families. It may be used for routing, and makes an effective platform for routing protocol research. .See also Exterior Gateway Protocol, Open Shortest Path First, Routing Information Protocol, routed. (1994-12-07)

gated "networking" /gayt-dee/ Gate daemon. A program which supports multiple {routing} {protocols} and protocol families. It may be used for routing, and makes an effective {platform} for routing {protocol} research. {(ftp://gated.cornell.edu)}. See also {Exterior Gateway Protocol}, {Open Shortest Path First}, {Routing Information Protocol}, {routed}. (1994-12-07)

gate "hardware" A low-level {digital} logic component. Gates perform {Boolean} {functions} (e.g. {AND}, {NOT}), store {bits} of data (e.g. a {flip-flop}), and connect and disconnect various parts of the overall circuit to control the flow of data ({tri-state} buffer). In a {CPU}, the term applies particularly to the buffers that route data between the various {functional units}. Each gate allows data to flow from one unit to another or enables data from one output onto a certain {bus}. (1999-09-02)

gate ::: (hardware) A low-level digital logic component. Gates perform Boolean functions (e.g. AND, NOT), store bits of data (e.g. a flip-flop), and connect and disconnect various parts of the overall circuit to control the flow of data (tri-state buffer).In a CPU, the term applies particularly to the buffers that route data between the various functional units. Each gate allows data to flow from one unit to another or enables data from one output onto a certain bus. (1999-09-02)

gatehouse ::: n. --> A house connected or associated with a gate.

gateless ::: a. --> Having no gate.

gateman ::: n. --> A gate keeper; a gate tender.

gate ::: n. --> A large door or passageway in the wall of a city, of an inclosed field or place, or of a grand edifice, etc.; also, the movable structure of timber, metal, etc., by which the passage can be closed.
An opening for passage in any inclosing wall, fence, or barrier; or the suspended framework which closes or opens a passage. Also, figuratively, a means or way of entrance or of exit.
A door, valve, or other device, for stopping the passage of water through a dam, lock, pipe, etc.


gate of horn ::: the ivory gate, the gate of horn: In Greek legend, those through which false and true dreams respectively come forth.

gatepost ::: n. --> A post to which a gate is hung; -- called also swinging / hinging post.
A post against which a gate closes; -- called also shutting post.


gates ::: “And with a silver cry of opening gates”

gates of Hell.

gates of the East Wind. In hechaloth lore ( Ma'asseh

gates of the East Wind. [Rf. Ozar Midrashim II,

gates of the East Wind. [See Zadkiel.] In the

gates of the East Wind.

gates of the South Wind. In 3 Enoch (chap. 18)

gates of the South Wind. [Rf Ozar Midrashim II,

gates of the South Wind. [Rf. Ozar Midrashim II,

gates of the West Wind. [Rf Ozar Midrashim II,

gateway 1. "networking" A deprecated term for a device that enables data to flow between different networks (forming an {internet}). Preferred terms are "{protocol converter}" (connects networks that use different {protocols}), "{router}" (connects two broadcast networks at layer 3 ({network layer}). Another example is a {mail gateway}, which is a layer 7 ({application layer}) gateway. 2. "hypertext" An {interface} between an information source and a {web server}. {Common Gateway Interface} is a {standard} for such interfaces. The information source can be any system that can be accessed by a program running on the web server. A typical example is a {relational database}. (2000-05-24)

gateway ::: 1. (networking) A deprecated term for a device that enables data to flow between different networks (forming an internet).Preferred terms are protocol converter (connects networks that use different protocols), router (connects two broadcast networks at layer 3 (network layer). Another example is a mail gateway, which is a layer 7 (application layer) gateway.2. (hypertext) An interface between an information source and a World-Wide Web server. Common Gateway Interface is a standard for such interfaces. The information source can be any system that can be accessed by a program running on the web server. A typical example is a relational database.(2000-05-24)

gateway ::: n. --> A passage through a fence or wall; a gate; also, a frame, arch, etc., in which a gate in hung, or a structure at an entrance or gate designed for ornament or defense.

gatewise ::: adv. --> In the manner of a gate.

Gate: A magical doorway that allows passage between two places.

Gate: A temporary magickal bridge between places. (See Portal.)

GATE GAT Extended? Based on {IT}. [Sammet 1969, p. 139].

Gates ::: Areas in which the boundaries between planes is especially thin or in which shifts in consciousness are more easily accomplished than usual.

Gates {Bill Gates}

Gates of Horn and Ivory. See WIND

Gates of reason: According to a Hebrew mystic legend, there are fifty gates to reason, of which forty-nine were disclosed to Moses.

Gates of Wisdom Qabbalistic term meaning, among other things, that a candidate for occult wisdom must pass through successive gates in order to attain the highest knowledge possible to human beings. A common figure of speech in the ancient world, e.g., Egypt. In the Qabbalah fifty gates are enumerated, but

Gateway 2000 ::: (company) One of the lagest US manufacturers of IBM compatibles, founded by CEO Ted Waitt in September 1985, in Sioux City, Iowa. In 1990 the company moved to North Sioux City, South Dakota.In August 1994, quarterly profits were $4 million on sales of $617 million. Sales for the first quarter of 1997 were $1.42 billion.On 1997-05-15 Gateway bought the Amiga brand. . (1998-07-30)

Gateway 2000 "company" One of the lagest US manufacturers of {IBM compatibles}, founded by CEO Ted Waitt in September 1985, in Sioux City, Iowa. In 1990 the company moved to North Sioux City, South Dakota. In August 1994, quarterly profits were $4 million on sales of $617 million. Sales for the first quarter of 1997 were $1.42 billion. On 1997-05-15 Gateway bought the {Amiga} brand. {(http://gw2k.com/)}. (1998-07-30)


TERMS ANYWHERE

abet ::: v. t. --> To instigate or encourage by aid or countenance; -- used in a bad sense of persons and acts; as, to abet an ill-doer; to abet one in his wicked courses; to abet vice; to abet an insurrection.
To support, uphold, or aid; to maintain; -- in a good sense.
To contribute, as an assistant or instigator, to the commission of an offense.


agate ::: adv. --> On the way; agoing; as, to be agate; to set the bells agate. ::: n. --> A semipellucid, uncrystallized variety of quartz, presenting various tints in the same specimen. Its colors are delicately arranged in stripes or bands, or blended in clouds.

abjugate ::: v. t. --> To unyoke.

ablegate ::: v. t. --> To send abroad. ::: n. --> A representative of the pope charged with important commissions in foreign countries, one of his duties being to bring to a newly named cardinal his insignia of office.

abligate ::: v. t. --> To tie up so as to hinder from.

abnegated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Abnegate

abnegate ::: v. t. --> To deny and reject; to abjure.

abnegating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Abnegate

abnegator ::: n. --> One who abnegates, denies, or rejects anything.

abroach ::: v. t. --> To set abroach; to let out, as liquor; to broach; to tap. ::: adv. --> Broached; in a condition for letting out or yielding liquor, as a cask which is tapped.
Hence: In a state to be diffused or propagated; afoot;


abrogate ::: a. --> Abrogated; abolished. ::: v. t. --> To annul by an authoritative act; to abolish by the authority of the maker or his successor; to repeal; -- applied to the repeal of laws, decrees, ordinances, the abolition of customs, etc.
To put an end to; to do away with.


abrogated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Abrogate

abrogate ::: to do away with, put an end to.

abrogable ::: a. --> Capable of being abrogated.

abrogating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Abrogate

abrogative ::: a. --> Tending or designed to abrogate; as, an abrogative law.

accredit ::: v. t. --> To put or bring into credit; to invest with credit or authority; to sanction.
To send with letters credential, as an ambassador, envoy, or diplomatic agent; to authorize, as a messenger or delegate.
To believe; to credit; to put trust in.
To credit; to vouch for or consider (some one) as doing something, or (something) as belonging to some one.


achate ::: n. --> An agate.
Purchase; bargaining.
Provisions. Same as Cates.


ad- ::: --> As a prefix ad- assumes the forms ac-, af-, ag-, al-, an-, ap-, ar-, as-, at-, assimilating the d with the first letter of the word to which ad- is prefixed. It remains unchanged before vowels, and before d, h, j, m, v. Examples: adduce, adhere, adjacent, admit, advent, accord, affect, aggregate, allude, annex, appear, etc. It becomes ac- before qu, as in acquiesce.

adaunt ::: v. t. --> To daunt; to subdue; to mitigate.

add ::: v. t. --> To give by way of increased possession (to any one); to bestow (on).
To join or unite, as one thing to another, or as several particulars, so as to increase the number, augment the quantity, enlarge the magnitude, or so as to form into one aggregate. Hence: To sum up; to put together mentally; as, to add numbers; to add up a column.
To append, as a statement; to say further.


adjugate ::: v. t. --> To yoke to.

adrogate ::: v. t. --> To adopt (a person who is his own master).

aetheogamous ::: a. --> Propagated in an unusual way; cryptogamous.

agatiferous ::: a. --> Containing or producing agates.

agatine ::: a. --> Pertaining to, or like, agate.

agatize ::: v. t. --> To convert into agate; to make resemble agate.

agaty ::: a. --> Of the nature of agate, or containing agate.

aggregated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Aggregate

aggregately ::: adv. --> Collectively; in mass.

aggregate ::: v. t. --> To bring together; to collect into a mass or sum. "The aggregated soil."
To add or unite, as, a person, to an association.
To amount in the aggregate to; as, ten loads, aggregating five hundred bushels. ::: a.


aggregating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Aggregate

aggregation ::: n. --> The act of aggregating, or the state of being aggregated; collection into a mass or sum; a collection of particulars; an aggregate.

aggregator ::: n. --> One who aggregates.

aggri ::: a. --> Applied to a kind of variegated glass beads of ancient manufacture; as, aggry beads are found in Ashantee and Fantee in Africa.

algate ::: adv. --> Alt. of Algates

algates ::: adv. --> Always; wholly; everywhere.
By any or means; at all events.
Notwithstanding; yet.


allay ::: v. t. --> To make quiet or put at rest; to pacify or appease; to quell; to calm; as, to allay popular excitement; to allay the tumult of the passions.
To alleviate; to abate; to mitigate; as, to allay the severity of affliction or the bitterness of adversity.
To diminish in strength; to abate; to subside.
To mix (metals); to mix with a baser metal; to alloy; to deteriorate.


alleviate ::: v. t. --> To lighten or lessen the force or weight of.
To lighten or lessen (physical or mental troubles); to mitigate, or make easier to be endured; as, to alleviate sorrow, pain, care, etc. ; -- opposed to aggravate.
To extenuate; to palliate.


alleviation ::: n. --> The act of alleviating; a lightening of weight or severity; mitigation; relief.
That which mitigates, or makes more tolerable.


alligate ::: v. t. --> To tie; to unite by some tie.

ambergris ::: n. --> A substance of the consistence of wax, found floating in the Indian Ocean and other parts of the tropics, and also as a morbid secretion in the intestines of the sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus), which is believed to be in all cases its true origin. In color it is white, ash-gray, yellow, or black, and often variegated like marble. The floating masses are sometimes from sixty to two hundred and twenty-five pounds in weight. It is wholly volatilized as a white vapor at 212¡ Fahrenheit, and is highly valued in perfumery.

amount ::: n. --> To go up; to ascend.
To rise or reach by an accumulation of particular sums or quantities; to come (to) in the aggregate or whole; -- with to or unto.
To rise, reach, or extend in effect, substance, or influence; to be equivalent; to come practically (to); as, the testimony amounts to very little.
The sum total of two or more sums or quantities; the aggregate; the whole quantity; a totality; as, the amount of 7 and 9 is


amygdaloid ::: n. --> A variety of trap or basaltic rock, containing small cavities, occupied, wholly or in part, by nodules or geodes of different minerals, esp. agates, quartz, calcite, and the zeolites. When the imbedded minerals are detached or removed by decomposition, it is porous, like lava. ::: a.

an elongated lowland between ranges of mountains, hills, or other uplands, often having a river or stream running along the bottom. valleys, valley-clefts.

another-gates ::: a. --> Of another sort.

antemural ::: n. --> An outwork of a strong, high wall, with turrets, in front of the gateway (as of an old castle), for defending the entrance.

anteport ::: n. --> An outer port, gate, or door.

antiquate ::: v. t. --> To make old, or obsolete; to make antique; to make old in such a degree as to put out of use; hence, to make void, or abrogate.

apocrisiarius ::: n. --> A delegate or deputy; especially, the pope&

arch ::: 1. An upwardly curved construction, for spanning an opening, consisting of a number of wedgelike stones, bricks, or the like, set with the narrower side toward the opening in such a way that forces on the arch are transmitted as vertical or oblique stresses on either side of the opening, either capable of bearing weight or merely ornamental; 2. Something bowed or curved; any bowlike part: the arch of the foot. 3. An arched roof, door; gateway; vault; fig. the heavens. arches.

argus shell ::: --> A species of shell (Cypraea argus), beautifully variegated with spots resembling those in a peacock&

arrant ::: a. --> Notoriously or preeminently bad; thorough or downright, in a bad sense; shameless; unmitigated; as, an arrant rogue or coward.
Thorough or downright, in a good sense.


arrogated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Arrogate

arrogate ::: v. t. --> To assume, or claim as one&

arrogating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Arrogate

ask ::: v. t. --> To request; to seek to obtain by words; to petition; to solicit; -- often with of, in the sense of from, before the person addressed.
To require, demand, claim, or expect, whether by way of remuneration or return, or as a matter of necessity; as, what price do you ask?
To interrogate or inquire of or concerning; to put a question to or about; to question.


aslake ::: v. t. & i. --> To mitigate; to moderate; to appease; to abate; to diminish.

assemble ::: v. t. --> To collect into one place or body; to bring or call together; to convene; to congregate. ::: v. i. --> To meet or come together, as a number of individuals; to convene; to congregate.
To liken; to compare.


assets ::: n. pl. --> Property of a deceased person, subject by law to the payment of his debts and legacies; -- called assets because sufficient to render the executor or administrator liable to the creditors and legatees, so far as such goods or estate may extend.
Effects of an insolvent debtor or bankrupt, applicable to the payment of debts.
The entire property of all sorts, belonging to a person, a corporation, or an estate; as, the assets of a merchant or a


assuage ::: to mitigate, alleviate, soothe, relieve (physical or mental pain).

assuage ::: v. t. --> To soften, in a figurative sense; to allay, mitigate, ease, or lessen, as heat, pain, or grief; to appease or pacify, as passion or tumult; to satisfy, as appetite or desire. ::: v. i. --> To abate or subside.

assubjugate ::: v. t. --> To bring into subjection.

assumer ::: n. --> One who assumes, arrogates, pretends, or supposes.

atom ::: “In the very atom there is a subconscious will and desire which must also be present in all atomic aggregates because they are present in the Force which constitutes the atom.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

ATTACHMENT. ::: All attachment is a hindrance to sadhana. Goodwāl you should have for all, psychic kindness for all, but no vital attachment.
To become indifferent to the attraction of outer objects is one of the first rules of yoga, for this non-attachment liberates the inner being into peace and the true consciousness.
Even after the liberation, one has to remain vigilant, for often these things go out and remain at a far distance, waiting to see if under any circumstances in any condition they can make a rush and recover their kingdom. If there has been an entire purification down to the depths and nothing is there to open the gate, then they cannot do it.
Attachment to things ::: the physical rejection of them is not the best way to get rid of it. Accept what is given you, ask for what is needed and think no more of it - attaching no importance, using them when you have, not troubled if you have not. That is the best way of getting rid of the attachment.


aumail ::: v. t. --> To figure or variegate.

bagatelle ::: n. --> A trifle; a thing of no importance.
A game played on an oblong board, having, at one end, cups or arches into or through which balls are to be driven by a rod held in the hand of the player.


balm ::: n. --> An aromatic plant of the genus Melissa.
The resinous and aromatic exudation of certain trees or shrubs.
Any fragrant ointment.
Anything that heals or that mitigates pain. ::: v. i.


barbacan ::: n. --> See Barbican.
A tower or advanced work defending the entrance to a castle or city, as at a gate or bridge. It was often large and strong, having a ditch and drawbridge of its own.
An opening in the wall of a fortress, through which missiles were discharged upon an enemy.


bar ::: n. --> A piece of wood, metal, or other material, long in proportion to its breadth or thickness, used as a lever and for various other purposes, but especially for a hindrance, obstruction, or fastening; as, the bars of a fence or gate; the bar of a door.
An indefinite quantity of some substance, so shaped as to be long in proportion to its breadth and thickness; as, a bar of gold or of lead; a bar of soap.
Anything which obstructs, hinders, or prevents; an


bartizan ::: n. --> A small, overhanging structure for lookout or defense, usually projecting at an angle of a building or near an entrance gateway.

batardeau ::: n. --> A cofferdam.
A wall built across the ditch of a fortification, with a sluice gate to regulate the height of water in the ditch on both sides of the wall.


behaviour ::: 1. Manner of behaving or conducting oneself. 2. The aggregate of the responses or reactions or movements made by an organism in any situation, or the manner in which a thing acts under such circumstances. behaviour"s.

belt ::: 1. Any encircling or transverse band, strip, or stripe characteristically distinguished from the surface it crosses. 2. An elongated region having distinctive properties or characteristics and long in proportion to its breadth. 3. A zone or district.

gated ::: a. --> Having gates.

gatehouse ::: n. --> A house connected or associated with a gate.

gateless ::: a. --> Having no gate.

gateman ::: n. --> A gate keeper; a gate tender.

gate ::: n. --> A large door or passageway in the wall of a city, of an inclosed field or place, or of a grand edifice, etc.; also, the movable structure of timber, metal, etc., by which the passage can be closed.
An opening for passage in any inclosing wall, fence, or barrier; or the suspended framework which closes or opens a passage. Also, figuratively, a means or way of entrance or of exit.
A door, valve, or other device, for stopping the passage of water through a dam, lock, pipe, etc.


gate of horn ::: the ivory gate, the gate of horn: In Greek legend, those through which false and true dreams respectively come forth.

gatepost ::: n. --> A post to which a gate is hung; -- called also swinging / hinging post.
A post against which a gate closes; -- called also shutting post.


gates ::: “And with a silver cry of opening gates”

gateway ::: n. --> A passage through a fence or wall; a gate; also, a frame, arch, etc., in which a gate in hung, or a structure at an entrance or gate designed for ornament or defense.

gatewise ::: adv. --> In the manner of a gate.

bicolligate ::: v. t. --> Having the anterior toes connected by a basal web.

biconjugate ::: a. --> Twice paired, as when a petiole forks twice.

bigeminate ::: a. --> Having a forked petiole, and a pair of leaflets at the end of each division; biconjugate; twice paired; -- said of a decompound leaf.

bijugate ::: a. --> Having two pairs, as of leaflets.

bijugous ::: a. --> Bijugate.

billingsgate ::: n. --> A market near the Billings gate in London, celebrated for fish and foul language.
Coarsely abusive, foul, or profane language; vituperation; ribaldry.


bluebeard ::: n. --> The hero of a mediaeval French nursery legend, who, leaving home, enjoined his young wife not to open a certain room in his castle. She entered it, and found the murdered bodies of his former wives. -- Also used adjectively of a subject which it is forbidden to investigate.

bocardo ::: n. --> A form of syllogism of which the first and third propositions are particular negatives, and the middle term a universal affirmative.
A prison; -- originally the name of the old north gate in Oxford, which was used as a prison.


bolt ::: n. --> A shaft or missile intended to be shot from a crossbow or catapult, esp. a short, stout, blunt-headed arrow; a quarrel; an arrow, or that which resembles an arrow; a dart.
Lightning; a thunderbolt.
A strong pin, of iron or other material, used to fasten or hold something in place, often having a head at one end and screw thread cut upon the other end.
A sliding catch, or fastening, as for a door or gate; the


brunonian ::: a. --> Pertaining to, or invented by, Brown; -- a term applied to a system of medicine promulgated in the 18th century by John Brown, of Scotland, the fundamental doctrine of which was, that life is a state of excitation produced by the normal action of external agents upon the body, and that disease consists in excess or deficiency of excitation.

buffel duck ::: --> A small duck (Charitonetta albeola); the spirit duck, or butterball. The head of the male is covered with numerous elongated feathers, and thus appears large. Called also bufflehead.

bugle ::: n. --> A sort of wild ox; a buffalo.
A horn used by hunters.
A copper instrument of the horn quality of tone, shorter and more conical that the trumpet, sometimes keyed; formerly much used in military bands, very rarely in the orchestra; now superseded by the cornet; -- called also the Kent bugle.
An elongated glass bead, of various colors, though commonly black.


bulimus ::: n. --> A genus of land snails having an elongated spiral shell, often of large size. The species are numerous and abundant in tropical America.

bullet ::: n. --> A small ball.
A missile, usually of lead, and round or elongated in form, to be discharged from a rifle, musket, pistol, or other small firearm.
A cannon ball.
The fetlock of a horse.


burnisher ::: n. --> One who burnishes.
A tool with a hard, smooth, rounded end or surface, as of steel, ivory, or agate, used in smoothing or polishing by rubbing. It has a variety of forms adapted to special uses.


"But the Titan will have nothing of all this; it is too great and subtle for his comprehension. His instincts call for a visible, tangible mastery and a sensational domination. How shall he feel sure of his empire unless he can feel something writhing helpless under his heel, — if in agony, so much the better? What is exploitation to him, unless it diminishes the exploited? To be able to coerce, exact, slay, overtly, irresistibly, — it is this that fills him with the sense of glory and dominion. For he is the son of division and the strong flowering of the Ego. To feel the comparative limitation of others is necessary to him that he may imagine himself immeasurable; for he has not the real, self-existent sense of infinity which no outward circumstance can abrogate. Contrast, division, negation of the wills and lives of others are essential to his self-development and self-assertion. The Titan would unify by devouring, not by harmonising; he must conquer and trample what is not himself either out of existence or into subservience so that his own image may stand out stamped upon all things and dominating all his environment.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

button ::: n. --> A knob; a small ball; a small, roundish mass.
A catch, of various forms and materials, used to fasten together the different parts of dress, by being attached to one part, and passing through a slit, called a buttonhole, in the other; -- used also for ornament.
A bud; a germ of a plant.
A piece of wood or metal, usually flat and elongated, turning on a nail or screw, to fasten something, as a door.


calumniate ::: v. t. --> To accuse falsely and maliciously of a crime or offense, or of something disreputable; to slander; to libel. ::: v. i. --> To propagate evil reports with a design to injure the reputation of another; to make purposely false charges of some offense or crime.

calypso ::: n. --> A small and beautiful species of orchid, having a flower variegated with purple, pink, and yellow. It grows in cold and wet localities in the northern part of the United States. The Calypso borealis is the only orchid which reaches 68¡ N.

cantharis ::: n. --> A beetle (Lytta, / Cantharis, vesicatoria), havin1g an elongated cylindrical body of a brilliant green color, and a nauseous odor; the blister fly or blister beetle, of the apothecary; -- also called Spanish fly. Many other species of Lytta, used for the same purpose, take the same name. See Blister beetle, under Blister. The plural form in usually applied to the dried insects used in medicine.

captive ::: n. 1. One, such as a prisoner of war, who is forcibly confined, subjugated, or enslaved. captives. v. 2. Those taken and held as a prisoners. captived. adj. 3. Kept under restraint or control; confined. 4. Enraptured, as by beauty; captivated.

castigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Castigate

castigate ::: v. t. --> To punish by stripes; to chastise by blows; to chasten; also, to chastise verbally; to reprove; to criticise severely.
To emend; to correct.


castigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Castigate

castigator ::: n. --> One who castigates or corrects.

castrate ::: v. t. --> To deprive of the testicles; to emasculate; to geld; to alter.
To cut or take out; esp. to remove anything erroneous, or objectionable from, as the obscene parts of a writing; to expurgate.


catch-meadow ::: n. --> A meadow irrigated by water from a spring or rivulet on the side of hill.

catechise ::: v. t. --> To instruct by asking questions, receiving answers, and offering explanations and corrections, -- esp. in regard to points of religious faith.
To question or interrogate; to examine or try by questions; -- sometimes with a view to reproof, by eliciting from a person answers which condemn his own conduct.


caucus ::: n. --> A meeting, especially a preliminary meeting, of persons belonging to a party, to nominate candidates for public office, or to select delegates to a nominating convention, or to confer regarding measures of party policy; a political primary meeting. ::: v. i. --> To hold, or meet in, a caucus or caucuses.

centenary ::: a. --> Relating to, or consisting of, a hundred.
Occurring once in every hundred years; centennial. ::: n. --> The aggregate of a hundred single things; specifically, a century.
A commemoration or celebration of an event which


century ::: n. --> A hundred; as, a century of sonnets; an aggregate of a hundred things.
A period of a hundred years; as, this event took place over two centuries ago.
A division of the Roman people formed according to their property, for the purpose of voting for civil officers.
One of sixty companies into which a legion of the army was divided. It was Commanded by a centurion.


checkered ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Checker ::: a. --> Marked with alternate squares or checks of different color or material.
Diversified or variegated in a marked manner, as in appearance, character, circumstances, etc.


checkerwork ::: n. --> Work consisting of or showing checkers varied alternately as to colors or materials.
Any aggregate of varied vicissitudes.


check ::: v. 1. To investigate, examine or verify as to correctness; examine carefully or in detail; to ascertain the truth about. 2. To inspect so as to determine accuracy, authenticity, quality, or other condition; test. checked.* n. *3. A person or thing that stops, limits, slows, or restrains.

cheiroptera ::: n. pl. --> An order of mammalia, including the bats, having four toes of each of the anterior limbs elongated and connected by a web, so that they can be used like wings in flying. See Bat.

chequered ::: 1. Marked by numerous and various shifts and changes. 2. Marked by dubious episodes; suspect in character or quality. 3. Diversified in colour, variegated.

chiliad ::: n. --> A thousand; the aggregate of a thousand things; especially, a period of a thousand years.

chilopoda ::: n. pl. --> One of the orders of myriapods, including the centipeds. They have a single pair of elongated legs attached laterally to each segment; well developed jaws; and a pair of thoracic legs converted into poison fangs. They are insectivorous, very active, and some species grow to the length of a foot.

chimney ::: n. --> A fireplace or hearth.
That part of a building which contains the smoke flues; esp. an upright tube or flue of brick or stone, in most cases extending through or above the roof of the building. Often used instead of chimney shaft.
A tube usually of glass, placed around a flame, as of a lamp, to create a draft, and promote combustion.
A body of ore, usually of elongated form, extending


chorographer ::: n. --> One who describes or makes a map of a district or region.
A geographical antiquary; one who investigates the locality of ancient places.


chronologer ::: n. --> Same as Chronologist.
A person who investigates dates of events and transactions; one skilled in chronology.


circumnavigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Circumnavigate

circumnavigate ::: v. t. --> To sail completely round.

circumnavigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Circumnavigate

clarigate ::: v. i. --> To declare war with certain ceremonies.

climatology ::: n. --> The science which treats of climates and investigates their phenomena and causes.

cochlea ::: n. --> An appendage of the labyrinth of the internal ear, which is elongated and coiled into a spiral in mammals. See Ear.

cockamaroo ::: n. --> The Russian variety of bagatelle.

coinage ::: v. t. --> The act or process of converting metal into money.
Coins; the aggregate coin of a time or place.
The cost or expense of coining money.
The act or process of fabricating or inventing; formation; fabrication; that which is fabricated or forged.


co-legatee ::: n. --> A joint legatee.

coleus ::: n. --> A plant of several species of the Mint family, cultivated for its bright-colored or variegated leaves.

collective ::: a. --> Formed by gathering or collecting; gathered into a mass, sum, or body; congregated or aggregated; as, the collective body of a nation.
Deducing consequences; reasoning; inferring.
Expressing a collection or aggregate of individuals, by a singular form; as, a collective name or noun, like assembly, army, jury, etc.
Tending to collect; forming a collection.


collectively ::: adv. --> In a mass, or body; in a collected state; in the aggregate; unitedly.

collegatary ::: n. --> A joint legatee.

collenchyma ::: n. --> A tissue of vegetable cells which are thickend at the angles and (usually) elongated.

colligated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Colligate

colligate ::: v. t. --> To tie or bind together.
To bring together by colligation; to sum up in a single proposition. ::: a. --> Bound together.


colligating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Colligate

collitigant ::: a. --> Disputing or wrangling. ::: n. --> One who litigates or wrangles.

comet ::: n. --> A member of the solar system which usually moves in an elongated orbit, approaching very near to the sun in its perihelion, and receding to a very great distance from it at its aphelion. A comet commonly consists of three parts: the nucleus, the envelope, or coma, and the tail; but one or more of these parts is frequently wanting. See Illustration in Appendix.

commute ::: v. t. --> To exchange; to put or substitute something else in place of, as a smaller penalty, obligation, or payment, for a greater, or a single thing for an aggregate; hence, to lessen; to diminish; as, to commute a sentence of death to one of imprisonment for life; to commute tithes; to commute charges for fares. ::: v. i.

compel ::: v. t. --> To drive or urge with force, or irresistibly; to force; to constrain; to oblige; to necessitate, either by physical or moral force.
To take by force or violence; to seize; to exact; to extort.
To force to yield; to overpower; to subjugate.
To gather or unite in a crowd or company.
To call forth; to summon.


complexus ::: n. --> A complex; an aggregate of parts; a complication.

congest ::: v. t. --> To collect or gather into a mass or aggregate; to bring together; to accumulate.
To cause an overfullness of the blood vessels (esp. the capillaries) of an organ or part.


congregate ::: a. --> Collected; compact; close. ::: v. t. --> To collect into an assembly or assemblage; to assemble; to bring into one place, or into a united body; to gather together; to mass; to compact.

congregated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Congregate

congregating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Congregate

congregation ::: n. --> The act of congregating, or bringing together, or of collecting into one aggregate or mass.
A collection or mass of separate things.
An assembly of persons; a gathering; esp. an assembly of persons met for the worship of God, and for religious instruction; a body of people who habitually so meet.
The whole body of the Jewish people; -- called also Congregation of the Lord.


conjugate ::: a. --> United in pairs; yoked together; coupled.
In single pairs; coupled.
Containing two or more radicals supposed to act the part of a single one.
Agreeing in derivation and radical signification; -- said of words.
Presenting themselves simultaneously and having reciprocal properties; -- frequently used in pure and applied


conjugated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Conjugate

conjugating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Conjugate

conjugation ::: n. --> the act of uniting or combining; union; assemblage.
Two things conjoined; a pair; a couple.
The act of conjugating a verb or giving in order its various parts and inflections.
A scheme in which are arranged all the parts of a verb.
A class of verbs conjugated in the same manner.
A kind of sexual union; -- applied to a blending of


consociation ::: n. --> Intimate union; fellowship; alliance; companionship; confederation; association; intimacy.
A voluntary and permanent council or union of neighboring Congregational churches, for mutual advice and cooperation in ecclesiastical matters; a meeting of pastors and delegates from churches thus united.


constitution ::: n. --> The act or process of constituting; the action of enacting, establishing, or appointing; enactment; establishment; formation.
The state of being; that form of being, or structure and connection of parts, which constitutes and characterizes a system or body; natural condition; structure; texture; conformation.
The aggregate of all one&


contentious ::: a. --> Fond of contention; given to angry debate; provoking dispute or contention; quarrelsome.
Relating to contention or strife; involving or characterized by contention.
Contested; litigated; litigious; having power to decide controversy.


convention ::: v. i. --> The act of coming together; the state of being together; union; coalition.
General agreement or concurrence; arbitrary custom; usage; conventionality.
A meeting or an assembly of persons, esp. of delegates or representatives, to accomplish some specific object, -- civil, social, political, or ecclesiastical.
An extraordinary assembly of the parkiament or


convoy ::: v. t. --> To accompany for protection, either by sea or land; to attend for protection; to escort; as, a frigate convoys a merchantman. ::: n. --> The act of attending for defense; the state of being so attended; protection; escort.
A vessel or fleet, or a train or trains of wagons, employed


corollet ::: n. --> A floret in an aggregate flower.

corrugate ::: a. --> Wrinkled; crumpled; furrowed; contracted into ridges and furrows. ::: v. t. --> To form or shape into wrinkles or folds, or alternate ridges and grooves, as by drawing, contraction, pressure, bending, or otherwise; to wrinkle; to purse up; as, to corrugate plates of iron; to

corrugated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Corrugate

corrugating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Corrugate

corvette ::: n. --> A war vessel, ranking next below a frigate, and having usually only one tier of guns; -- called in the United States navy a sloop of war.

cringle ::: n. --> A withe for fastening a gate.
An iron or pope thimble or grommet worked into or attached to the edges and corners of a sail; -- usually in the plural. The cringles are used for making fast the bowline bridles, earings, etc.


cryptogamia ::: n. --> The series or division of flowerless plants, or those never having true stamens and pistils, but propagated by spores of various kinds.

cumulative ::: a. --> Composed of parts in a heap; forming a mass; aggregated.
Augmenting, gaining, or giving force, by successive additions; as, a cumulative argument, i. e., one whose force increases as the statement proceeds.
Tending to prove the same point to which other evidence has been offered; -- said of evidence.
Given by same testator to the same legatee; -- said of


curiosity ::: n. --> The state or quality or being curious; nicety; accuracy; exactness; elaboration.
Disposition to inquire, investigate, or seek after knowledge; a desire to gratify the mind with new information or objects of interest; inquisitiveness.
That which is curious, or fitted to excite or reward attention.


dactylozooid ::: n. --> A kind of zooid of Siphonophora which has an elongated or even vermiform body, with one tentacle, but no mouth. See Siphonophora.

dappled ::: a. --> Marked with spots of different shades of color; spotted; variegated; as, a dapple horse. ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Dapple

debauchedly ::: adv. --> In a profligate manner.

defatigate ::: v. t. --> To weary or tire out; to fatigue.

DEFEAT. ::: Defeat is not the end, it is only a gate or a begin- ning.

delegate ::: a person authorised to act as representative for another. delegation.

delegated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Delegate

delegate ::: n. --> Any one sent and empowered to act for another; one deputed to represent; a chosen deputy; a representative; a commissioner; a vicar.
One elected by the people of a territory to represent them in Congress, where he has the right of debating, but not of voting.
One sent by any constituency to act as its representative in a convention; as, a delegate to a convention for nominating


delegacy ::: a. --> The act of delegating, or state of being delegated; deputed power.
A body of delegates or commissioners; a delegation.


delegating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Delegate

delegation ::: n. --> The act of delegating, or investing with authority to act for another; the appointment of a delegate or delegates.
One or more persons appointed or chosen, and commissioned to represent others, as in a convention, in Congress, etc.; the collective body of delegates; as, the delegation from Massachusetts; a deputation.
A kind of novation by which a debtor, to be liberated from his creditor, gives him a third person, who becomes obliged in his


delegatory ::: a. --> Holding a delegated position.

deligate ::: v. t. --> To bind up; to bandage.

delitigate ::: v. i. --> To chide; to rail heartily.

delusion ::: n. --> The act of deluding; deception; a misleading of the mind.
The state of being deluded or misled.
That which is falsely or delusively believed or propagated; false belief; error in belief.


delved ::: carried an intensive and thorough research for data, information, or the like; investigated. delves.

deme ::: n. --> A territorial subdivision of Attica (also of modern Greece), corresponding to a township.
An undifferentiated aggregate of cells or plastids.


democracy ::: n. --> Government by the people; a form of government in which the supreme power is retained and directly exercised by the people.
Government by popular representation; a form of government in which the supreme power is retained by the people, but is indirectly exercised through a system of representation and delegated authority periodically renewed; a constitutional representative government; a republic.
Collectively, the people, regarded as the source of


dendrachate ::: n. --> Arborescent or dendritic agate.

dendrite ::: n. --> A stone or mineral on or in which are branching figures resembling shrubs or trees, produced by a foreign mineral, usually an oxide of manganese, as in the moss agate; also, a crystallized mineral having an arborescent form, e. g., gold or silver; an arborization.

denegate ::: v. t. --> To deny.

deputation ::: n. --> The act of deputing, or of appointing or commissioning a deputy or representative; office of a deputy or delegate; vicegerency.
The person or persons deputed or commissioned by another person, party, or public body to act in his or its behalf; delegation; as, the general sent a deputation to the enemy to propose a truce.


depute ::: v. t. --> To appoint as deputy or agent; to commission to act in one&

deputy ::: a person appointed to act on behalf of or represent another; agent, representative, surrogate, envoy.

deputy ::: n. --> One appointed as the substitute of another, and empowered to act for him, in his name or his behalf; a substitute in office; a lieutenant; a representative; a delegate; a vicegerent; as, the deputy of a prince, of a sheriff, of a township, etc.
A member of the Chamber of Deputies.


dern ::: n. --> A gatepost or doorpost. ::: a. --> Hidden; concealed; secret.
Solitary; sad.


derogated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Derogate

derogately ::: adv. --> In a derogatory manner.

derogate ::: v. t. --> To annul in part; to repeal partly; to restrict; to limit the action of; -- said of a law.
To lessen; to detract from; to disparage; to depreciate; -- said of a person or thing. ::: v. i. --> To take away; to detract; to withdraw; -- usually with


derogating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Derogate

derogatory ::: a. --> Tending to derogate, or lessen in value; expressing derogation; detracting; injurious; -- with from to, or unto.

detract ::: v. t. --> To take away; to withdraw.
To take credit or reputation from; to defame. ::: v. i. --> To take away a part or something, especially from one&


disaggregate ::: v. t. --> To destroy the aggregation of; to separate into component parts, as an aggregate mass.

disaggregation ::: n. --> The separation of an aggregate body into its component parts.

discolored ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Discolor ::: a. --> Altered in color; /tained.
Variegated; of divers colors.


discuss ::: v. t. --> To break to pieces; to shatter.
To break up; to disperse; to scatter; to dissipate; to drive away; -- said especially of tumors.
To shake; to put away; to finish.
To examine in detail or by disputation; to reason upon by presenting favorable and adverse considerations; to debate; to sift; to investigate; to ventilate.
To deal with, in eating or drinking.


disgregate ::: v. t. --> To disperse; to scatter; -- opposite of congregate.

disseminator ::: n. --> One who, or that which, disseminates, spreads, or propagates; as, disseminators of disease.

dissolute ::: a. --> With nerves unstrung; weak.
Loosed from restraint; esp., loose in morals and conduct; recklessly abandoned to sensual pleasures; profligate; wanton; lewd; debauched.


distinct ::: a. --> Distinguished; having the difference marked; separated by a visible sign; marked out; specified.
Marked; variegated.
Separate in place; not conjunct; not united by growth or otherwise; -- with from.
Not identical; different; individual.
So separated as not to be confounded with any other thing; not liable to be misunderstood; not confused; well-defined;


diversified ::: a. --> Distinguished by various forms, or by a variety of aspects or objects; variegated; as, diversified scenery or landscape. ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Diversify

diversify ::: v. t. --> To make diverse or various in form or quality; to give variety to; to variegate; to distinguish by numerous differences or aspects.

  divine gate, gleaming sisters of the *See *sisters of the divine gate, gleaming.

divulgate ::: a. --> Published. ::: v. t. --> To divulge.

divulgater ::: n. --> A divulger.

dogate ::: n. --> The office or dignity of a doge.

dogeate ::: n. --> Dogate.

douay bible ::: --> A translation of the Scriptures into the English language for the use of English-speaking Roman Catholics; -- done from the Latin Vulgate by English scholars resident in France. The New Testament portion was published at Rheims, A. D. 1582, the Old Testament at Douai, A. D. 1609-10. Various revised editions have since been published.

drawbridge ::: n. --> A bridge of which either the whole or a part is made to be raised up, let down, or drawn or turned aside, to admit or hinder communication at pleasure, as before the gate of a town or castle, or over a navigable river or canal.

drawplate ::: n. --> A hardened steel plate having a hole, or a gradation of conical holes, through which wires are drawn to be reduced and elongated.

drumlin ::: n. --> A hill of compact, unstratified, glacial drift or till, usually elongate or oval, with the larger axis parallel to the former local glacial motion.

DRY PERIOD. ::: There is a long stage of preparation neces- sary in order to arrive at the moer psychologic^ condition in which the doors of experience can open and one can walk from vista to vista — though even then new gates may present them- selves and refuse to open until all is ready. This period can be dry and desert-like unless one has the ardour of self-introspec- tion and self-conquest and finds every step of the effort and struggle interesting or unless one has or gets the secret of trust and self-giving which secs the hand of the Divine in every step of the path and even in the difficulty the grace or the guidance.

Such interval periods come to all and cannot be avoided.

The main thing is to meet them with quietude and not become restless, depressed or despondent. A constant fire can be there only when a certain stage has been reached, that is when one is always inside consciously living in the psychic being, but for that all this preparation of the mind, vital, physical is necessary.

For this fire belongs to the psychic and one cannot command it always merely by the mind's effort. The psychic has to be fully liberated and that is what the Force is working to make fully possible.

The difficulty comes when either the vital with its desires or the physical with its past habitual movements comes in — as they do with almost everyone. It is then that the dryness and difficulty of spontaneous aspiration come. This dryness is a well- known obstacle in all sadhana. But one has to persist and not be discouraged. If one keep? the will fixed even in these barren periods, they pass and after their passage a greater force of aspiration and experience becomes possible.

Dryness comes usually when the vital dislikes a movement or' condition or the refusal of its desires and starts non-co-operation.

But sometimes it is a condition that has to be crossed through, e.g. the neutral or dry quietude which sometimes comes when the ordinary movements have been thrown out but nothing positive has yet come to take their place, i.e, peace, joy, a higher know- ledge or force or action.


ductile ::: a. --> Easily led; tractable; complying; yielding to motives, persuasion, or instruction; as, a ductile people.
Capable of being elongated or drawn out, as into wire or threads.


duct ::: n. --> Any tube or canal by which a fluid or other substance is conducted or conveyed.
One of the vessels of an animal body by which the products of glandular secretion are conveyed to their destination.
A large, elongated cell, either round or prismatic, usually found associated with woody fiber.
Guidance; direction.


eastern ::: a. --> Situated or dwelling in the east; oriental; as, an eastern gate; Eastern countries.
Going toward the east, or in the direction of east; as, an eastern voyage.


eel ::: n. --> An elongated fish of many genera and species. The common eels of Europe and America belong to the genus Anguilla. The electrical eel is a species of Gymnotus. The so called vinegar eel is a minute nematode worm. See Conger eel, Electric eel, and Gymnotus.

either of the ends of a new moon. See also gate of horn.

elongate ::: a. --> To lengthen; to extend; to stretch; as, to elongate a line.
To remove further off.
Drawn out at length; elongated; as, an elongate leaf. ::: v. i. --> To depart to, or be at, a distance; esp., to recede


elongated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Elongate

elongating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Elongate

embroidery ::: n. --> Needlework used to enrich textile fabrics, leather, etc.; also, the art of embroidering.
Diversified ornaments, especially by contrasted figures and colors; variegated decoration.


empower ::: v. t. --> To give authority to; to delegate power to; to commission; to authorize (having commonly a legal force); as, the Supreme Court is empowered to try and decide cases, civil or criminal; the attorney is empowered to sign an acquittance, and discharge the debtor.
To give moral or physical power, faculties, or abilities to.


enameled ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Enamel ::: a. --> Coated or adorned with enamel; having a glossy or variegated surface; glazed.

enamel ::: v. t. --> A variety of glass, used in ornament, to cover a surface, as of metal or pottery, and admitting of after decoration in color, or used itself for inlaying or application in varied colors.
A glassy, opaque bead obtained by the blowpipe.
That which is enameled; also, any smooth, glossy surface, resembling enamel, especially if variegated.
The intensely hard calcified tissue entering into the composition of teeth. It merely covers the exposed parts of the teeth


enavigate ::: v. t. --> To sail away or over.

engrail ::: v. t. --> To variegate or spot, as with hail.
To indent with small curves. See Engrailed. ::: v. i. --> To form an edging or border; to run in curved or indented lines.


entrance ::: n. --> The act of entering or going into; ingress; as, the entrance of a person into a house or an apartment; hence, the act of taking possession, as of property, or of office; as, the entrance of an heir upon his inheritance, or of a magistrate into office.
Liberty, power, or permission to enter; as, to give entrance to friends.
The passage, door, or gate, for entering.
The entering upon; the beginning, or that with which the


environment ::: the aggregate of surrounding things, conditions, or influences; surroundings; milieu. **environments.

ericius ::: n. --> The Vulgate rendering of the Hebrew word qip/d, which in the "Authorized Version" is translated bittern, and in the Revised Version, porcupine.

erogated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Erogate

erogate ::: v. t. --> To lay out, as money; to deal out; to expend.

erogating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Erogate

errorist ::: n. --> One who encourages and propagates error; one who holds to error.

erugate ::: a. --> Freed from wrinkles; smooth.

ethnographer ::: n. --> One who investigates ethnography.

etymologist ::: n. --> One who investigates the derivation of words.

every ::: a. & a. pron. --> All the parts which compose a whole collection or aggregate number, considered in their individuality, all taken separately one by one, out of an indefinite bumber.
Every one. Cf.


evestigate ::: v. t. --> To investigate.

evulgate ::: v. t. --> To publish abroad.

examined ::: looked at, inspected, or scrutinized carefully or in detail; investigated the condition or qualities of anything.

examiner ::: n. --> One who examines, tries, or inspects; one who interrogates; an officer or person charged with the duty of making an examination; as, an examiner of students for a degree; an examiner in chancery, in the patent office, etc.

exarch ::: n. --> A viceroy; in Ravenna, the title of the viceroys of the Byzantine emperors; in the Eastern Church, the superior over several monasteries; in the modern Greek Church, a deputy of the patriarch , who visits the clergy, investigates ecclesiastical cases, etc.

excuss ::: v. t. --> To shake off; to discard.
To inspect; to investigate; to decipher.
To seize and detain by law, as goods.


explore ::: 1. To examine or investigate, esp. systematically. 2. To search into or travel in for the purpose of discovery. explores, exploring.

explorer ::: a person who investigates unknown regions.

expurgated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Expurgate

expurgate ::: v. t. --> To purify; to clear from anything noxious, offensive, or erroneous; to cleanse; to purge; as, to expurgate a book.

expurgating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Expurgate

expurgatorial ::: a. --> Tending or serving to expurgate; expurgatory.

expurgator ::: n. --> One who expurgates or purifies.

extended ::: 1. Spread out or elongated in breadth or length. 2. Fully extended or stretched forth. 3. Widespread or extensive; having extension or spatial magnitude.

extravagate ::: v. i. --> To rove.

eyestone ::: n. --> A small, lenticular, calcareous body, esp. an operculum of a small marine shell of the family Turbinidae, used to remove a foreign substance from the eye. It is put into the inner corner of the eye under the lid, and allowed to work its way out at the outer corner, bringing with it the substance.
Eye agate. See under Eye.


fatigate ::: a. --> Wearied; tired; fatigued. ::: v. t. --> To weary; to tire; to fatigue.

febrifuge ::: n. --> A medicine serving to mitigate or remove fever. ::: a. --> Antifebrile.

fence ::: n. --> That which fends off attack or danger; a defense; a protection; a cover; security; shield.
An inclosure about a field or other space, or about any object; especially, an inclosing structure of wood, iron, or other material, intended to prevent intrusion from without or straying from within.
A projection on the bolt, which passes through the tumbler gates in locking and unlocking.


flagitious ::: a. --> Disgracefully or shamefully criminal; grossly wicked; scandalous; shameful; -- said of acts, crimes, etc.
Guilty of enormous crimes; corrupt; profligate; -- said of persons.
Characterized by scandalous crimes or vices; as, flagitious times.


fleck ::: n. --> A flake; also, a lock, as of wool.
A spot; a streak; a speckle.
To spot; to streak or stripe; to variegate; to dapple.


flesh ::: n. --> The aggregate of the muscles, fat, and other tissues which cover the framework of bones in man and other animals; especially, the muscles.
Animal food, in distinction from vegetable; meat; especially, the body of beasts and birds used as food, as distinguished from fish.
The human body, as distinguished from the soul; the corporeal person.


flocculate ::: v. i. --> To aggregate into small lumps. ::: a. --> Furnished with tufts of curly hairs, as some insects.

flocculation ::: n. --> The process by which small particles of fine soils and sediments aggregate into larger lumps.

flutemouth ::: n. --> A fish of the genus Aulostoma, having a much elongated tubular snout.

fomenter ::: n. --> One who foments; one who encourages or instigates; as, a fomenter of sedition.

foment ::: v. t. --> To apply a warm lotion to; to bathe with a cloth or sponge wet with warm water or medicated liquid.
To cherish with heat; to foster.
To nurse to life or activity; to cherish and promote by excitements; to encourage; to abet; to instigate; -- used often in a bad sense; as, to foment ill humors.


force ::: n. 1. Strength; energy; power; intensity. 2. Fig. An agency, influence, or source of power likened to a physical force. Force, force"s, forces, Force-compelled, Conscious-Force, earth-force, God-Force, lion-forces, Mother-Force, Nature-force, Nature-Force, serpent-force, soul-force, Soul-Forces, world-force, World-Force, world-forces. *v. 3. To compel or cause (a person, group, etc.) to do something through effort, superior strength, etc.; coerce. 4. To propel or drive despite resistance. 5. To break open (a gate, door, etc.) *forces, forced, forcing.

freak ::: v. t. --> To variegate; to checker; to streak. ::: n. --> A sudden causeless change or turn of the mind; a whim of fancy; a capricious prank; a vagary or caprice.

fretted ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Fret ::: p. p. & a. --> Rubbed or worn away; chafed.
Agitated; vexed; worried.
Ornamented with fretwork; furnished with frets; variegated; made rough on the surface.


frigate-built ::: a. --> Built like a frigate with a raised quarter-deck and forecastle.

frigate ::: n. --> Originally, a vessel of the Mediterranean propelled by sails and by oars. The French, about 1650, transferred the name to larger vessels, and by 1750 it had been appropriated for a class of war vessels intermediate between corvettes and ships of the line. Frigates, from about 1750 to 1850, had one full battery deck and, often, a spar deck with a lighter battery. They carried sometimes as many as fifty guns. After the application of steam to navigation steam frigates of largely increased size and power were built, and formed the main part

fumigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Fumigate

fumigate ::: n. --> To apply smoke to; to expose to smoke or vapor; to purify, or free from infection, by the use of smoke or vapors.
To smoke; to perfume.


fumigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Fumigate

fumigator ::: n. --> One who, or that which, fumigates; an apparattus for fumigating.

fungate ::: n. --> A salt of fungic acid.

fustigate ::: v. t. --> To cudgel.

gagate ::: n. --> Agate.

gather ::: v. t. --> To bring together; to collect, as a number of separate things, into one place, or into one aggregate body; to assemble; to muster; to congregate.
To pick out and bring together from among what is of less value; to collect, as a harvest; to harvest; to cull; to pick off; to pluck.
To accumulate by collecting and saving little by little; to amass; to gain; to heap up.


geld ::: n. --> Money; tribute; compensation; ransom. ::: v. t. --> To castrate; to emasculate.
To deprive of anything essential.
To deprive of anything exceptionable; as, to geld a book, or a story; to expurgate.


genealogize ::: v. i. --> To investigate, or relate the history of, descents.

generate ::: v. t. --> To beget; to procreate; to propagate; to produce (a being similar to the parent); to engender; as, every animal generates its own species.
To cause to be; to bring into life.
To originate, especially by a vital or chemical process; to produce; to cause.
To trace out, as a line, figure, or solid, by the motion of a point or a magnitude of inferior order.


geometrize ::: v. i. --> To investigate or apprehend geometrical quantities or laws; to make geometrical constructions; to proceed in accordance with the principles of geometry.

geometry ::: n. --> That branch of mathematics which investigates the relations, properties, and measurement of solids, surfaces, lines, and angles; the science which treats of the properties and relations of magnitudes; the science of the relations of space.
A treatise on this science.


gleaming sisters of the divine gate

gleaming sisters of the divine gate, the

golden-rod ::: n. --> A tall herb (Solidago Virga-aurea), bearing yellow flowers in a graceful elongated cluster. The name is common to all the species of the genus Solidago.

grafter ::: n. --> One who inserts scions on other stocks, or propagates fruit by ingrafting.
An instrument by which grafting is facilitated.
The original tree from which a scion has been taken for grafting upon another tree.


graft ::: n. --> A small shoot or scion of a tree inserted in another tree, the stock of which is to support and nourish it. The two unite and become one tree, but the graft determines the kind of fruit.
A branch or portion of a tree growing from such a shoot.
A portion of living tissue used in the operation of autoplasty.
To insert (a graft) in a branch or stem of another tree; to propagate by insertion in another stock; also, to insert a graft upon.


greencloth ::: n. --> A board or court of justice formerly held in the counting house of the British sovereign&

gum ammoniac ::: n. --> The concrete juice (gum resin) of an umbelliferous plant, the Dorema ammoniacum. It is brought chiefly from Persia in the form of yellowish tears, which occur singly, or are aggregated into masses. It has a peculiar smell, and a nauseous, sweet taste, followed by a bitter one. It is inflammable, partially soluble in water and in spirit of wine, and is used in medicine as an expectorant and resolvent, and for the formation of certain plasters.

halotrichite ::: n. --> An iron alum occurring in silky fibrous aggregates of a yellowish white color.

hanging ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Hang ::: a. --> Requiring, deserving, or foreboding death by the halter.
Suspended from above; pendent; as, hanging shelves.
Adapted for sustaining a hanging object; as, the hanging post of a gate, the post which holds the hinges.


hang ::: v. i. --> To suspend; to fasten to some elevated point without support from below; -- often used with up or out; as, to hang a coat on a hook; to hang up a sign; to hang out a banner.
To fasten in a manner which will allow of free motion upon the point or points of suspension; -- said of a pendulum, a swing, a door, gate, etc.
To fit properly, as at a proper angle (a part of an implement that is swung in using), as a scythe to its snath, or an ax


hank ::: n. --> A parcel consisting of two or more skeins of yarn or thread tied together.
A rope or withe for fastening a gate.
Hold; influence.
A ring or eye of rope, wood, or iron, attached to the edge of a sail and running on a stay. ::: v. t.


harmost ::: n. --> A governor or prefect appointed by the Spartans in the cities subjugated by them.

heelpost ::: n. --> The post supporting the outer end of a propeller shaft.
The post to which a gate or door is hinged.
The quoin post of a lock gate.


hemachate ::: n. --> A species of agate, sprinkled with spots of red jasper.

herse ::: n. --> A kind of gate or portcullis, having iron bars, like a harrow, studded with iron spikes. It is hung above gateways so that it may be quickly lowered, to impede the advance of an enemy.
See Hearse, a carriage for the dead.
A funeral ceremonial. ::: v. t.


"He the Eternal"s delegate soul in man.” Savitri 10. 3.

“He the Eternal’s delegate soul in man.” Savitri 10. 3.

hinge ::: n. --> The hook with its eye, or the joint, on which a door, gate, lid, etc., turns or swings; a flexible piece, as a strip of leather, which serves as a joint to turn on.
That on which anything turns or depends; a governing principle; a cardinal point or rule; as, this argument was the hinge on which the question turned.
One of the four cardinal points, east, west, north, or south.


homologated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Homologate

homologate ::: v. t. --> To approve; to allow; to confirm; as, the court homologates a proceeding.

homologating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Homologate

hook ::: n. --> A piece of metal, or other hard material, formed or bent into a curve or at an angle, for catching, holding, or sustaining anything; as, a hook for catching fish; a hook for fastening a gate; a boat hook, etc.
That part of a hinge which is fixed to a post, and on which a door or gate hangs and turns.
An implement for cutting grass or grain; a sickle; an instrument for cutting or lopping; a billhook.


hormogonium ::: n. --> A chain of small cells in certain algae, by which the plant is propogated.

hoyman ::: n. --> One who navigates a hoy.

hurdle ::: n. --> A movable frame of wattled twigs, osiers, or withes and stakes, or sometimes of iron, used for inclosing land, for folding sheep and cattle, for gates, etc.; also, in fortification, used as revetments, and for other purposes.
In England, a sled or crate on which criminals were formerly drawn to the place of execution.
An artificial barrier, variously constructed, over which men or horses leap in a race.


hydrodynamics ::: n. --> That branch of the science of mechanics which relates to fluids, or, as usually limited, which treats of the laws of motion and action of nonelastic fluids, whether as investigated mathematically, or by observation and experiment; the principles of dynamics, as applied to water and other fluids.

hylaeosaurus ::: n. --> A large Wealden dinosaur from the Tilgate Forest, England. It was about twenty feet long, protected by bony plates in the skin, and armed with spines.

If you open yourself on one side or in one part to the Truth and on another side are constantly opening the gates to hostile forces, it is vain to expect that the divine Grace will abide with you. You must keep the temple clean if you wish to instal there the living Presence.

immitigable ::: a. --> Not capable of being mitigated, softened, or appeased.

ingate ::: n. --> Entrance; ingress.
The aperture in a mold for pouring in the metal; the gate.


incendental ::: n. --> An incident; that which is incidental; esp., in the plural, an aggregate of subordinate or incidental items not particularized; as, the expense of tuition and incidentals.

incenser ::: n. --> One who instigates or incites.

indagate ::: v. t. --> To seek or search out.

indicate ::: v. t. --> To point out; to discover; to direct to a knowledge of; to show; to make known.
To show or manifest by symptoms; to point to as the proper remedies; as, great prostration of strength indicates the use of stimulants.
To investigate the condition or power of, as of steam engine, by means of an indicator.


individuals or things regarded as members of a group or number of things or individuals, or discriminated from these as having a separate existence; separate parts or members of which a complex whole or aggregate is composed or into which it may be analysed.

inflect ::: v. t. --> To turn from a direct line or course; to bend; to incline, to deflect; to curve; to bow.
To vary, as a noun or a verb in its terminations; to decline, as a noun or adjective, or to conjugate, as a verb.
To modulate, as the voice.


In its nature and law the Overmind is a delegate of the Supermind Consciousness, its delegate to the Ignorance. Or we might speak of it as a protective double, a screen of dissimilar similarity through which Supermind can act indirectly on an Ignorance whose darkness could not bear or receive the direct impact of a supreme Light. Even, it is by the projection of this luminous Overmind corona that the diffusion of a diminished light in the Ignorance and the throwing of that contrary shadow which swallows up in itself all light, the Inconscience, became at all possible. For Supermind transmits to Overmind all its realities, but leaves it to formulate them in a movement and according to an awareness of things which is still a vision of Truth and yet at the same time a first parent of the Ignorance. A line divides Supermind and Overmind which permits a free transmission, allows the lower Power to derive from the higher Power all it holds or sees, but automatically compels a transitional change in the passage. The integrality of the Supermind keeps always the essential truth of things, the total truth and the truth of its individual self-determinations clearly knit together; it maintains in them an inseparable unity and between them a close interpenetration and a free and full consciousness of each other: but in Overmind this integrality is no longer there. And yet the Overmind is well aware of the essential Truth of things; it embraces the totality; it uses the individual self-determinations without being limited by them: but although it knows their oneness, can realise it in a spiritual cognition, yet its dynamic movement, even while relying on that for its security, is not directly determined by it. Overmind Energy proceeds through an illimitable capacity of separation and combination of the powers and aspects of the integral and indivisible all-comprehending Unity. It takes each Aspect or Power and gives to it an independent action in which it acquires a full separate importance and is able to work out, we might say, its own world of creation. Purusha and Prakriti, Conscious Soul and executive Force of Nature, are in the supramental harmony a two-aspected single truth, being and dynamis of the Reality; there can be no disequilibrium or predominance of one over the other. In Overmind we have the origin of the cleavage, the trenchant distinction made by the philosophy of the Sankhyas in which they appear as two independent entities, Prakriti able to dominate Purusha and cloud its freedom and power, reducing it to a witness and recipient of her forms and actions, Purusha able to return to its separate existence and abide in a free self-sovereignty by rejection of her original overclouding material principle. So with the other aspects or powers of the Divine Reality, One and Many, Divine Personality and Divine Impersonality, and the rest; each is still an aspect and power of the one Reality, but each is empowered to act as an independent entity in the whole, arrive at the fullness of the possibilities of its separate expression and develop the dynamic consequences of that separateness. At the same time in Overmind this separateness is still founded on the basis of an implicit underlying unity; all possibilities of combination and relation between the separated Powers and Aspects, all interchanges and mutualities of their energies are freely organised and their actuality always possible.

“In its nature and law the Overmind is a delegate of the Supermind Consciousness, its delegate to the Ignorance. Or we might speak of it as a protective double, a screen of dissimilar similarity through which Supermind can act indirectly on an Ignorance whose darkness could not bear or receive the direct impact of a supreme Light.” The Life Divine

innavigable ::: a. --> Incapable of being navigated; impassable by ships or vessels.

inoculator ::: n. --> One who inoculates; one who propagates plants or diseases by inoculation.

inquiring ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Inquire ::: a. --> Given to inquiry; disposed to investigate causes; curious; as, an inquiring mind.

insearch ::: v. t. --> To make search after; to investigate or examine; to ensearch.

inspect ::: v. t. --> To look upon; to view closely and critically, esp. in order to ascertain quality or condition, to detect errors, etc., to examine; to scrutinize; to investigate; as, to inspect conduct.
To view and examine officially, as troops, arms, goods offered, work done for the public, etc.; to oversee; to superintend.
Inspection.


instigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Instigate

instigate ::: v. t. --> To goad or urge forward; to set on; to provoke; to incite; -- used chiefly with reference to evil actions; as to instigate one to a crime.

instigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Instigate

instigation ::: n. --> The act of instigating, or the state of being instigated; incitement; esp. to evil or wickedness.

instigator ::: n. --> One who instigates or incites.

interpleader ::: n. --> One who interpleads.
A proceeding devised to enable a person, of whom the same debt, duty, or thing is claimed adversely by two or more parties, to compel them to litigate the right or title between themselves, and thereby to relieve himself from the suits which they might otherwise bring against him.


interrogatee ::: n. --> One who is interrogated.

interrogate ::: v. t. --> To question formally; to question; to examine by asking questions; as, to interrogate a witness. ::: v. i. --> To ask questions. ::: n.

interrogating ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Interrogate

In the iransiiioD there may well be a period in which we take up all life and action and offer them to the Divine for purifica- tion, change and deliverance of the truth within them, another period in which we draw back and build a spiritual wall around us admitting through its gates only such activities as consent to undergo the Jaw of the spiritual transformation, a third In which a free and all-cmbracing action, with new forms fit for the utter

investigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Investigate

investigate ::: to search out and examine the particulars of in an attempt to learn the facts about something hidden, unique, or complex.

investigate ::: v. t. --> To follow up step by step by patient inquiry or observation; to trace or track mentally; to search into; to inquire and examine into with care and accuracy; to find out by careful inquisition; as, to investigate the causes of natural phenomena. ::: v. i. --> To pursue a course of investigation and study; to

investigable ::: a. --> Capable or susceptible of being investigated; admitting research.
Unsearchable; inscrutable.


investigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Investigate

irrigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Irrigate

irrigate ::: v. t. --> To water; to wet; to moisten with running or dropping water; to bedew.
To water, as land, by causing a stream to flow upon, over, or through it, as in artificial channels.


irrigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Irrigate

irrigation ::: n. --> The act or process of irrigating, or the state of being irrigated; especially, the operation of causing water to flow over lands, for nourishing plants.

irrugate ::: v. t. --> To wrinkle.

ivory ::: see gate of horn.

jantu ::: n. --> A machine of great antiquity, used in Bengal for raising water to irrigate land.

jararaca ::: n. --> A poisonous serpent of Brazil (Bothrops jararaca), about eighteen inches long, and of a dusky, brownish color, variegated with red and black spots.

jaspachate ::: n. --> Agate jasper.

jasperated ::: a. --> mixed with jasper; containing particles of jasper; as, jasperated agate.

jugated ::: a. --> Coupled together.

judge ::: v. i. --> A public officer who is invested with authority to hear and determine litigated causes, and to administer justice between parties in courts held for that purpose.
One who has skill, knowledge, or experience, sufficient to decide on the merits of a question, or on the quality or value of anything; one who discerns properties or relations with skill and readiness; a connoisseur; an expert; a critic.
A person appointed to decide in a/trial of skill, speed,


kaleidoscopical ::: a. --> Of, pertaining to, or formed by, a kaleidoscope; variegated.

keeper ::: n. --> One who, or that which, keeps; one who, or that which, holds or has possession of anything.
One who retains in custody; one who has the care of a prison and the charge of prisoners.
One who has the care, custody, or superintendence of anything; as, the keeper of a park, a pound, of sheep, of a gate, etc. ; the keeper of attached property; hence, one who saves from harm; a defender; a preserver.


klicket ::: n. --> A small postern or gate in a palisade, for the passage of sallying parties.

laevigate ::: a. --> Having a smooth surface, as if polished.

langate ::: n. --> A linen roller used in dressing wounds.

latch ::: v. t. --> To smear; to anoint. ::: n. --> That which fastens or holds; a lace; a snare.
A movable piece which holds anything in place by entering a notch or cavity; specifically, the catch which holds a door or gate when closed, though it be not bolted.


lath ::: n. --> A thin, narrow strip of wood, nailed to the rafters, studs, or floor beams of a building, for the purpose of supporting the tiles, plastering, etc. A corrugated metallic strip or plate is sometimes used. ::: v. t. --> To cover or line with laths.

lath-shaped ::: a. --> Having a slender elongated form, like a lath; -- said of the feldspar of certain igneous rocks, as diabase, as seen in microscopic sections.

leaved ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Leave ::: a. --> Bearing, or having, a leaf or leaves; having folds; -- used in combination; as, a four-leaved clover; a two-leaved gate; long-leaved.

legatee ::: n. --> One to whom a legacy is bequeathed.

legate ::: n. --> An ambassador or envoy.
An ecclesiastic representing the pope and invested with the authority of the Holy See.
An official assistant given to a general or to the governor of a province.
Under the emperors, a governor sent to a province.


legateship ::: n. --> The office of a legate.

legatary ::: n. --> A legatee.

legatine ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to a legate; as, legatine power.
Made by, proceeding from, or under the sanction of, a legate; as, a legatine constitution.


legation ::: n. --> The sending forth or commissioning one person to act for another.
A legate, or envoy, and the persons associated with him in his mission; an embassy; or, in stricter usage, a diplomatic minister and his suite; a deputation.
The place of business or official residence of a diplomatic minister at a foreign court or seat of government.
A district under the jurisdiction of a legate.


legature ::: n. --> Legateship.

leipoa ::: n. --> A genus of Australian gallinaceous birds including but a single species (Leipoa ocellata), about the size of a turkey. Its color is variegated, brown, black, white, and gray. Called also native pheasant.

lenify ::: v. t. --> To assuage; to soften; to mitigate; to alleviate.

lepisma ::: n. --> A genus of wingless thysanurous insects having an elongated flattened body, covered with shining scales and terminated by seven unequal bristles. A common species (Lepisma saccharina) is found in houses, and often injures books and furniture. Called also shiner, silver witch, silver moth, and furniture bug.

lernean ::: n. --> One of a family (Lernaeidae) of parasitic Crustacea found attached to fishes and other marine animals. Some species penetrate the skin and flesh with the elongated head, and feed on the viscera. See Illust. in Appendix.

levigate ::: a. --> Made less harsh or burdensome; alleviated.
Made smooth, as if polished. ::: v. t. --> To make smooth in various senses
To free from grit; to reduce to an impalpable powder or paste.


levigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Levigate

levigable ::: v. t. --> Capable of being levigated.

levigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Levigate

ligate ::: v. t. --> To tie with a ligature; to bind around; to bandage.

lithodomus ::: n. --> A genus of elongated bivalve shells, allied to the mussels, and remarkable for their ability to bore holes for shelter, in solid limestone, shells, etc. Called also Lithophagus.

litigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Litigate

litigate ::: v. t. --> To make the subject of a lawsuit; to contest in law; to prosecute or defend by pleadings, exhibition of evidence, and judicial debate in a court; as, to litigate a cause. ::: v. i. --> To carry on a suit by judicial process.

litigable ::: a. --> Such as can be litigated.

litigant ::: a. --> Disposed to litigate; contending in law; engaged in a lawsuit; as, the parties litigant. ::: n. --> A person engaged in a lawsuit.

litigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Litigate

litigator ::: n. --> One who litigates.

lodge ::: n. --> A shelter in which one may rest; as: (a) A shed; a rude cabin; a hut; as, an Indian&

logic ::: 1. The science that investigates the principles governing correct or reliable inference. 2. The system or principles of reasoning applicable to any branch of knowledge or study. 3. Convincing forcefulness; inexorable truth or persuasiveness. logic"s.

loment ::: n. --> An elongated pod, consisting, like the legume, of two valves, but divided transversely into small cells, each containing a single seed.

lych gate ::: --> See under Lich.

Madhav: “This is an experience of the gates opening, an important experience in yoga. Even as early as in the Vedic hymns, the Rishis describe how the divine doors open, devih dvarah, and the light, the joy, the knowledge pour in. Sat-Sang Vol. IX

magnificat ::: n. --> The song of the Virgin Mary, Luke i. 46; -- so called because it commences with this word in the Vulgate.

manipulate ::: v. t. --> To treat, work, or operate with the hands, especially when knowledge and dexterity are required; to manage in hand work; to handle; as, to manipulate scientific apparatus.
To control the action of, by management; as, to manipulate a convention of delegates; to manipulate the stock market; also, to manage artfully or fraudulently; as, to manipulate accounts, or election returns.


margate fish ::: --> A sparoid fish (Diabasis aurolineatus) of the Gulf of Mexico, esteemed as a food fish; -- called also red-mouth grunt.

mariner ::: one who navigates or assists in navigating a ship.

marmorated ::: a. --> Variegated like marble; covered or overlaid with marble.

materialism ::: n. --> The doctrine of materialists; materialistic views and tenets.
The tendency to give undue importance to material interests; devotion to the material nature and its wants.
Material substances in the aggregate; matter.


:::   ". . . matter means the involution of the conscious delight of existence in self-oblivious force and in a self-dividing, infinitesimally disaggregated form of substance.” *The Synthesis of Yoga

“… matter means the involution of the conscious delight of existence in self-oblivious force and in a self-dividing, infinitesimally disaggregated form of substance.” The Synthesis of Yoga

menild ::: a. --> Covered with spots; speckled; variegated.

meride ::: n. --> A permanent colony of cells or plastids which may remain isolated, like Rotifer, or may multiply by gemmation to form higher aggregates, termed zoides.

mileage ::: n. --> An allowance for traveling expenses at a certain rate per mile.
Aggregate length or distance in miles; esp., the sum of lengths of tracks or wires of a railroad company, telegraph company, etc.


mineral ::: v. i. --> An inorganic species or substance occurring in nature, having a definite chemical composition and usually a distinct crystalline form. Rocks, except certain glassy igneous forms, are either simple minerals or aggregates of minerals.
A mine.
Anything which is neither animal nor vegetable, as in the most general classification of things into three kingdoms (animal, vegetable, and mineral).


mischief-maker ::: n. --> One who makes mischief; one who excites or instigates quarrels or enmity.

missionary ::: n --> One who is sent on a mission; especially, one sent to propagate religion. ::: a. --> Of or pertaining to missions; as, a missionary meeting; a missionary fund.

mission ::: n. --> The act of sending, or the state of being sent; a being sent or delegated by authority, with certain powers for transacting business; comission.
That with which a messenger or agent is charged; an errand; business or duty on which one is sent; a commission.
Persons sent; any number of persons appointed to perform any service; a delegation; an embassy.
An assotiation or organization of missionaries; a station


mitigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Mitigate

mitigate ::: v. t. --> To make less severe, intense, harsh, rigorous, painful, etc.; to soften; to meliorate; to alleviate; to diminish; to lessen; as, to mitigate heat or cold; to mitigate grief.
To make mild and accessible; to mollify; -- applied to persons.


mitigable ::: a. --> Admitting of mitigation; that may be mitigated.

mitigant ::: a. --> Tending to mitigate; mitigating; lentitive.

mitigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Mitigate

mitigation ::: n. --> The act of mitigating, or the state of being mitigated; abatement or diminution of anything painful, harsh, severe, afflictive, or calamitous; as, the mitigation of pain, grief, rigor, severity, punishment, or penalty.

mitigative ::: a. --> Tending to mitigate; alleviating.

mitigator ::: n. --> One who, or that which, mitigates.

mitigatory ::: a. --> Tending to mitigate or alleviate; mitigative.

MONEY. ::: Money is the visible sign of a universal force, and this force m its manifestation on earth woris an the vitaf and physical planes and Is indispensable to the fullness of the outer life. In its origin and true action it belongs lo the Divine. But like other powers of the Divine it is delegated here and in the ignorance of the lower Nature can be usurped for the uses of the ego or held by Asuric influences and perverted to their purpose.

morning-glory ::: n. --> A climbing plant (Ipomoea purpurea) having handsome, funnel-shaped flowers, usually red, pink, purple, white, or variegated, sometimes pale blue. See Dextrorsal.

mosasaurus ::: n. --> A genus of extinct marine reptiles allied to the lizards, but having the body much elongated, and the limbs in the form of paddles. The first known species, nearly fifty feet in length, was discovered in Cretaceous beds near Maestricht, in the Netherlands.

motley ::: a. --> Variegated in color; consisting of different colors; dappled; party-colored; as, a motley coat.
Wearing motley or party-colored clothing. See Motley, n., 1. ::: n. --> Composed of different or various parts; heterogeneously


mottled ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Mottle ::: a. --> Marked with spots of different colors; variegated; spotted; as, mottled wood.

mover ::: n. --> A person or thing that moves, stirs, or changes place.
A person or thing that imparts motion, or causes change of place; a motor.
One who, or that which, excites, instigates, or causes movement, change, etc.; as, movers of sedition.
A proposer; one who offers a proposition, or recommends anything for consideration or adoption; as, the mover of a resolution in a legislative body.


muley ::: n. --> A stiff, long saw, guided at the ends but not stretched in a gate.
See Mulley.


multijugate ::: a. --> Having many pairs of leaflets.

multijugous ::: a. --> Consisting of many parts.
Same as Multijugate.


mythologize ::: v. i. --> To relate, classify, and explain, or attempt to explain, myths; to write upon myths.
To construct and propagate myths.


navigated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Navigate

navigate ::: v. i. --> To joirney by water; to go in a vessel or ship; to perform the duties of a navigator; to use the waters as a highway or channel for commerce or communication; to sail. ::: v. t. --> To pass over in ships; to sail over or on; as, to navigate the Atlantic.

navigable ::: a. --> Capable of being navigated; deep enough and wide enough to afford passage to vessels; as, a navigable river.

navigating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Navigate

navigator ::: n. --> One who navigates or sails; esp., one who direct the course of a ship, or one who is skillful in the art of navigation; also, a book which teaches the art of navigation; as, Bowditch&

negated ::: made ineffective or invalid; nullified. negating, all-negating.

nero ::: n. --> A Roman emperor notorius for debauchery and barbarous cruelty; hence, any profligate and cruel ruler or merciless tyrant.

nonpareil ::: a. --> Something of unequaled excellence; a peerless thing or person; a nonesuch; -- often used as a name.
A size of type next smaller than minion and next larger than agate (or ruby).
A beautifully colored finch (Passerina ciris), native of the Southern United States. The male has the head and neck deep blue, rump and under parts bright red, back and wings golden green, and the tail bluish purple. Called also painted finch.


not searched; unexamined, uninvestigated.

number ::: n. --> That which admits of being counted or reckoned; a unit, or an aggregate of units; a numerable aggregate or collection of individuals; an assemblage made up of distinct things expressible by figures.
A collection of many individuals; a numerous assemblage; a multitude; many.
A numeral; a word or character denoting a number; as, to put a number on a door.


nuncio ::: n. --> A messenger.
The permanent official representative of the pope at a foreign court or seat of government. Distinguished from a legate a latere, whose mission is temporary in its nature, or for some special purpose. Nuncios are of higher rank than internuncios.


nursery ::: n. --> The act of nursing.
The place where nursing is carried on
The place, or apartment, in a house, appropriated to the care of children.
A place where young trees, shrubs, vines, etc., are propagated for the purpose of transplanting; a plantation of young trees.
The place where anything is fostered and growth promoted.


nyula ::: n. --> A species of ichneumon (Herpestes nyula). Its fur is beautifully variegated by closely set zigzag markings. O () O, the fifteenth letter of the English alphabet, derives its form, value, and name from the Greek O, through the Latin. The letter came into the Greek from the Ph/nician, which possibly derived it ultimately from the Egyptian. Etymologically, the letter o is most closely related to a, e, and u; as in E. bone, AS. ban; E. stone, AS. stan; E. broke, AS. brecan to break; E. bore, AS. beran to bear; E. dove, AS. d/fe; E. html{color:

objurgated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Objurgate

objurgate ::: v. t. --> To chide; to reprove.

objurgating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Objurgate

objurgatory ::: a. --> Designed to objurgate or chide; containing or expressing reproof; culpatory.

obligated ::: imp. & p. p. --> of Obligate

obligate ::: v. t. --> To bring or place under obligation, moral or legal; to hold by a constraining motive.
To bind or firmly hold to an act; to compel; to constrain; to bind to any act of duty or courtesy by a formal pledge.


obligating ::: p. pr. & vb. n. --> of Obligate

obligation ::: n. --> The act of obligating.
That which obligates or constrains; the binding power of a promise, contract, oath, or vow, or of law; that which constitutes legal or moral duty.
Any act by which a person becomes bound to do something to or for anouther, or to forbear something; external duties imposed by law, promise, or contract, by the relations of society, or by courtesy, kindness, etc.


obrogate ::: v. t. --> To annul indirectly by enacting a new and contrary law, instead of by expressly abrogating or repealing the old one.

oppressed ::: v. 1. Overwhelmed or crushed, esp. in battle. 2. To lie heavy on; burdened (the mind, imagination, etc.). oppresses, oppressed, oppressing.* *n. oppressed. 3. Those who are subjugated by cruelty, force, etc.; trampled down. adj. oppressed. 4.** Afflicted or tormented; burdened psychologically or mentally; caused to suffer.

ore ::: a mineral or an aggregate of minerals from which a valuable constituent, especially a metal, can be profitably mined or extracted.

overmind ::: Sri Aurobindo: "The overmind is a sort of delegation from the supermind (this is a metaphor only) which supports the present evolutionary universe in which we live here in Matter. If supermind were to start here from the beginning as the direct creative Power, a world of the kind we see now would be impossible; it would have been full of the divine Light from the beginning, there would be no involution in the inconscience of Matter, consequently no gradual striving evolution of consciousness in Matter. A line is therefore drawn between the higher half of the universe of consciousness, parardha , and the lower half, aparardha. The higher half is constituted of Sat, Chit, Ananda, Mahas (the supramental) — the lower half of mind, life, Matter. This line is the intermediary overmind which, though luminous itself, keeps from us the full indivisible supramental Light, depends on it indeed, but in receiving it, divides, distributes, breaks it up into separated aspects, powers, multiplicities of all kinds, each of which it is possible by a further diminution of consciousness, such as we reach in Mind, to regard as the sole or the chief Truth and all the rest as subordinate or contradictory to it.” *Letters on Yoga

   "The overmind is the highest of the planes below the supramental.” *Letters on Yoga

"In its nature and law the Overmind is a delegate of the Supermind Consciousness, its delegate to the Ignorance. Or we might speak of it as a protective double, a screen of dissimilar similarity through which Supermind can act indirectly on an Ignorance whose darkness could not bear or receive the direct impact of a supreme Light.” The Life Divine

"The Overmind is a principle of cosmic Truth and a vast and endless catholicity is its very spirit; its energy is an all-dynamism as well as a principle of separate dynamisms: it is a sort of inferior Supermind, — although it is concerned predominantly not with absolutes, but with what might be called the dynamic potentials or pragmatic truths of Reality, or with absolutes mainly for their power of generating pragmatic or creative values, although, too, its comprehension of things is more global than integral, since its totality is built up of global wholes or constituted by separate independent realities uniting or coalescing together, and although the essential unity is grasped by it and felt to be basic of things and pervasive in their manifestation, but no longer as in the Supermind their intimate and ever-present secret, their dominating continent, the overt constant builder of the harmonic whole of their activity and nature.” The Life Divine

   "The overmind sees calmly, steadily, in great masses and large extensions of space and time and relation, globally; it creates and acts in the same way — it is the world of the great Gods, the divine Creators.” *Letters on Yoga

"The Overmind is essentially a spiritual power. Mind in it surpasses its ordinary self and rises and takes its stand on a spiritual foundation. It embraces beauty and sublimates it; it has an essential aesthesis which is not limited by rules and canons, it sees a universal and an eternal beauty while it takes up and transforms all that is limited and particular. It is besides concerned with things other than beauty or aesthetics. It is concerned especially with truth and knowledge or rather with a wisdom that exceeds what we call knowledge; its truth goes beyond truth of fact and truth of thought, even the higher thought which is the first spiritual range of the thinker. It has the truth of spiritual thought, spiritual feeling, spiritual sense and at its highest the truth that comes by the most intimate spiritual touch or by identity. Ultimately, truth and beauty come together and coincide, but in between there is a difference. Overmind in all its dealings puts truth first; it brings out the essential truth (and truths) in things and also its infinite possibilities; it brings out even the truth that lies behind falsehood and error; it brings out the truth of the Inconscient and the truth of the Superconscient and all that lies in between. When it speaks through poetry, this remains its first essential quality; a limited aesthetical artistic aim is not its purpose.” *Letters on Savitri

"In the overmind the Truth of supermind which is whole and harmonious enters into a separation into parts, many truths fronting each other and moved each to fulfil itself, to make a world of its own or else to prevail or take its share in worlds made of a combination of various separated Truths and Truth-forces.” Letters on Yoga

*Overmind"s.


pain ::: “Pain is the key that opens the gates of strength; it is the high-road that leads to the city of beatitude.” Essays Divine and Human

penal code ::: law. The aggregate of statutory enactments dealing with crimes and their punishment.

pointillage ::: A word coined by Sri Aurobindo. The suffix age, originally in words adopted from Fr., is typically used in abstract nouns to indicate”aggregate”. Hence, pointillage indicates something made up of minute details; particularized. The root word, pointillism, refers to a method, invented by French impressionist painters, of producing luminous effects by crowding a surface with small spots of various colours, which are blended by the eye.

pointillage ::: a word coined by Sri Aurobindo. The suffix age, originally in words adopted from Fr., is typically used in abstract nouns to indicate "aggregate”. Hence, pointillage indicates something made up of minute details; particularized. The root word, pointillism, refers to a method, invented by French impressionist painters, of producing luminous effects by crowding a surface with small spots of various colours, which are blended by the eye.

portal ::: a doorway, entrance, or gate, especially one that is large and imposing.

postern ::: 1. A small rear gate, esp. one in a fort or castle; often as a way of escape. Also fig.

pylons ::: monumental gateways in the form of a pair of truncated pyramids serving as entrances to ancient Egyptian temples.

::: "Reason, on the contrary, proceeds by analysis and division and assembles its facts to form a whole; but in the assemblage so formed there are opposites, anomalies, logical incompatibilities, and the natural tendency of Reason is to affirm some and to negate others which conflict with its chosen conclusions so that it may form a flawlessly logical system.” The Life Divine*

“Reason, on the contrary, proceeds by analysis and division and assembles its facts to form a whole; but in the assemblage so formed there are opposites, anomalies, logical incompatibilities, and the natural tendency of Reason is to affirm some and to negate others which conflict with its chosen conclusions so that it may form a flawlessly logical system.” The Life Divine

recluse-gate ::: a secluded gate.

reporter ::: one who investigates and reports.

representative ::: one that serves as a delegate or agent for another.

rock ::: 1. Relatively hard, naturally formed mineral or petrified matter; stone. 2. A boulder or large stone. 3. One that is similar to or suggestive of a mass of stone in stability, firmness, or dependability. 4. Something resembling or suggesting a rock. rocks, rock-doors, rock-edicts, rock-gate"s, rock-hewn, rock-temple"s, pillar-rocks.

Samadbi or Yogic trance retires to increasing depths accord* lag as it dran^ farther and farther away from the nonnal or waking state and enters into degrees of consciousness less and less communicable to the waking mind, less and less ready to receive a summons from the waking world. Beyond a certain point the trance becomes complete and it is then almost or quite impossible to awaken or calf back the soul that has receded into them ; it can only come back by its own will or at most by a violent shock of physical appeal dangerous to the sj'stem owing to the abrupt upheaval of return. There are said to be supreme states of trance in which the soul persisting for too long a lime cannot return ; for it loses its hold on the cord which binds it to the consciousness of life, and the body is left, maintained indeed in its set position, not dead by dissolution, but incapable of recovering the ensouled life which had rnhahifed it. finally, the Yogin acquires at a certain stage of development the power of abandoning his body definitively without the ordinary pheno- mena of death, by an act of will, or by a process of withdrawing the pranic life-force through the gate of the upward life-current

sleep ::: Sri Aurobindo: "Sleep like trance opens the gate of the subliminal to us; for in sleep, as in trance, we retire behind the veil of the limited waking personality and it is behind this veil that the subliminal has its existence.” The Life Divine

sound ::: 1. To investigate (water, etc.) by the use of the line and lead or other means, in order to ascertain the depth or the quality of the bottom; to measure or examine in some way resembling this. 2. In fig. contexts: To measure, fathom or ascertain, as by sounding. sounded.

sow ::: to implant, introduce, in one; promulgate; seek spread; propagate; disseminate. sows, sowed, sown, sowing.

Sri Aurobindo: "His [the Titan"s] instincts call for a visible, tangible mastery and a sensational domination. How shall he feel sure of his empire unless he can feel something writhing helpless under his heel, — if in agony, so much the better? What is exploitation to him, unless it diminishes the exploited? To be able to coerce, exact, slay, overtly, irresistibly, — it is this that fills him with the sense of glory and dominion. For he is the son of division and the strong flowering of the Ego. To feel the comparative limitation of others is necessary to him that he may imagine himself immeasurable; for he has not the real, self-existent sense of infinity which no outward circumstance can abrogate. Contrast, division, negation of the wills and lives of others are essential to his self-development and self-assertion. The Titan would unify by devouring, not by harmonising; he must conquer and trample what is not himself either out of existence or into subservience so that his own image may stand out stamped upon all things and dominating all his environment.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

Sri Aurobindo: “His [the Titan’s] instincts call for a visible, tangible mastery and a sensational domination. How shall he feel sure of his empire unless he can feel something writhing helpless under his heel,—if in agony, so much the better? What is exploitation to him, unless it diminishes the exploited? To be able to coerce, exact, slay, overtly, irresistibly,—it is this that fills him with the sense of glory and dominion. For he is the son of division and the strong flowering of the Ego. To feel the comparative limitation of others is necessary to him that he may imagine himself immeasurable; for he has not the real, self-existent sense of infinity which no outward circumstance can abrogate. Contrast, division, negation of the wills and lives of others are essential to his self-development and self-assertion. The Titan would unify by devouring, not by harmonising; he must conquer and trample what is not himself either out of existence or into subservience so that his own image may stand out stamped upon all things and dominating all his environment.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

*Sri Aurobindo: "If thou think defeat is the end of thee, then go not forth to fight, even though thou be the stronger. For Fate is not purchased by any man nor is Power bound over to her possessors. But defeat is not the end, it is only a gate or a beginning.” Essays Human and Divine*

Sri Aurobindo: "In the very atom there is a subconscious will and desire which must also be present in all atomic aggregates because they are present in the Force which constitutes the atom.” *Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

*Sri Aurobindo: "Pain is the key that opens the gates of strength; it is the high-road that leads to the city of beatitude.” Essays Divine and Human

student ::: One who studies, investigates, or examines thoughtfully. (Sri Aurobindo also employs the word as an adj.)

student ::: one who studies, investigates, or examines thoughtfully. (Sri Aurobindo also employs the word as an adj.)

SUBTLE FORCES. ::: There is such a thing as a willed use of any subtle force — it may be spiritual, mental or siral — to secure a particular result at some point in the world. Just as there arc waves of unseen physical forces (cosmic waves etc.) or currents of electricity, so there arc mind-waves, ihought*currcnts. waves of emotion, ~ for example, anger, sorrow, etc. — which go out and affect others without their knowing whence they come or that they come at all, they only feel the result. One who has the occult or inner senses awake can feel them coming and invad> ing him. Influences good or bad can propagate themsefves in that way ::: chat can happen without Intention and naturally, but also a deliberate use can be made of them. There can also be a power- ful generation of force, spiritual or other. There can be too the use of the effective will or idea acting directly without the aid of any outward action, speech or other instrumentation which is not concrete in that sense, but is all the same effective.

swing ::: n. 1. A seat suspended from above by means of a loop of rope or between ropes or rods, on which one may sit and swing to and fro for recreation. 2. The act, manner, or progression of swinging; movement in alternate directions or in a particular direction. 3. The act or an instance of swinging; movement back and forth or in one particular direction. v. 4. To move in alternate directions or in either direction around a point, an axis, or a line of support, as a gate on its hinges. 5. To move back and forth suspended or as if suspended from above. Swung.

"The Avatar comes as the manifestation of the divine nature in the human nature, the apocalypse of its Christhood, Krishnahood, Buddhahood, in order that the human nature may by moulding its principle, thought, feeling, action, being on the lines of that Christhood, Krishnahood, Buddhahood transfigure itself into the divine. The law, the Dharma which the Avatar establishes is given for that purpose chiefly; the Christ, Krishna, Buddha stands in its centre as the gate, he makes through himself the way men shall follow.” Essays on the Gita

“The Avatar comes as the manifestation of the divine nature in the human nature, the apocalypse of its Christhood, Krishnahood, Buddhahood, in order that the human nature may by moulding its principle, thought, feeling, action, being on the lines of that Christhood, Krishnahood, Buddhahood transfigure itself into the divine. The law, the Dharma which the Avatar establishes is given for that purpose chiefly; the Christ, Krishna, Buddha stands in its centre as the gate, he makes through himself the way men shall follow.” Essays on the Gita

The field of vision, like every other field of activity of the human mind, is a mixed world and there is in it not only truth but much half-inith and error. For the rash and unwary to enter into it may bring confusion and misleading inspiration and false voices, and it is safer to have some sure guidance from those who know and have spiritual and psychic experience One must look at this field calmly and with discrimination, but to shut the gates and reject this or other supraphysical experiences is to limit oneself and arrest the inner development.

The overmind is the protective Double, a delegate of the

They only deflect the mind and open the gate to falsehoods.

Titan ::: : “His [the Titan’s] instincts call for a visible, tangible mastery and a sensational domination. How shall he feel sure of his empire unless he can feel something writhing helpless under his heel,—if in agony, so much the better? What is exploitation to him, unless it diminishes the exploited? To be able to coerce, exact, slay, overtly, irresistibly,—it is this that fills him with the sense of glory and dominion. For he is the son of division and the strong flowering of the Ego. To feel the comparative limitation of others is necessary to him that he may imagine himself immeasurable; for he has not the real, self-existent sense of infinity which no outward circumstance can abrogate. Contrast, division, negation of the wills and lives of others are essential to his self-development and self-assertion. The Titan would unify by devouring, not by harmonising; he must conquer and trample what is not himself either out of existence or into subservience so that his own image may stand out stamped upon all things and dominating all his environment.” Essays in Philosophy and Yoga

to defeat or conquer in battle; subjugate; to conquer or subdue by superior force.

totality ::: 1. An aggregate amount; a sum. 2. The quality or state of being total.

unbarred ::: removed the bar from (a door or gate, etc.); opened, unlocked, unbolted, unfastened.

VAIRACYA. ::: A liberating distaste. The vaimgya of one who has tasted the world’s gifts or prizes but found them insufficient or tasteless and turns away towards a higher ideal or the vaiVngya of one who has done his part in life’s battles but seen that some- thing greater is demanded of the soul, is perfectly helpful and a good gate to the yoga.

vicegerent ::: invested with or characterised by delegated authority.

wicket ::: a small door or gate, especially one built into or near a larger one.



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1:ice melting
by the gate
an early moon ~ Issa,
2:passing through the gate
I have become
a wanderer ~ Buson,
3:Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate." ~ J. R. R. Tolkien,
4:Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate. ~ J R R Tolkien, [T5],
5:Life ran to gaze from every gate of sense: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, Satyavan,
6:passing through the gate
I have become
a wanderer
~ Buson, @BashoSociety
7:A gate of dreams ajar on mystery's verge. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Symbol Dawn,
8:What seemed the source and end was a wide gate, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
9:keeping
an ancient promise
moon at the gate
~ Kobayashi Issa, @BashoSociety
10:Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction. ~ Buddhist Texts, the Eternal Wisdom
11:down the river
is the gate of knowledge
the red leaves of sunset
~ Kobayashi Issa, @BashoSociety
12:Seek the Divine Love through the only gate through which it will consent to enter, the gate of the psychic being. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV, Sex,
13:Death lay beneath him like a gate of sleep. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Yoga of the King, The Yoga of the Spirit's Freedom and Greatness,
14:Death is but changing of our robes to wait
In wedding garments at the Eternal's gate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, The Fear of Death,
15:Thou must die to thyself to reach God's height:
I, Death, am the gate of immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
16:A gaol is this immense material world:
Across each road stands armed a stone-eyed Law,
At every gate the huge dim sentinels pace. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Issue,
17:Not till your thoughts cease all their branching here and there, not till you abandon all thoughts of seeking for something, not till your mind is motionless as wood or stone, will you be on the right road to the Gate." ~ Huang Po,
18:Life with her wine-cup of longing under the purple of her tenture,
Death as her gate of escape and rebirth and renewal of venture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, Ahana,
19:The elements of every concept enter into logical thought at the gate of perception and make their exit at the gate of purposive action; and whatever cannot show its passports at both those two gates is to be arrested as unauthorized by reason. ~ Charles Sanders Peirce,
20:Often our thoughts are finished cosmic wares
Admitted by a silent office gate
And passed through the subconscient's galleries,
Then issued in Time's mart as private make. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
21:Those who seek the truth by means of intellect and learning only get further and further away from it. Not till your thoughts cease all their branching here and there, not till you abandon all thoughts of seeking for something, not till your mind is motionless as wood or stone, will you be on the right road to the Gate." ~ Huang Po,
22:At the dim portal of the inner life
That bars out from our depths the body's mind
And all that lives but by the body's breath,
She knocked and pressed against the ebony gate.
The living portal groaned with sullen hinge: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Entry into the Inner Countries,
23:The chief mystical text of Kabbalah, the Zohar, says that Malkhut is "the way to that great and powerful tree... 'If one does not enter through this gate, one cannot gain entry to the worlds,' the worlds of the sefirot. As we climb the Tree of Life-from the bottom to the top-we begin with Malkhut, the Mother.
   ~ Elizabeth Clare Prophet, Kabbalah: Key To Your Inner Power,
24:By the understanding of the impermanence, of subjection to grief and of the unreality of substance of all formations arises the light of the true wisdom and without it there can be no veritable illumination. The gate of the Way is found in this understanding. Whoever strives not to come to it, is torn into pieces by death. ~ Fo-shu-hing-tsan-king, the Eternal Wisdom
25:Those who dedicate themselves to the processes of discipline and self improvement set down by the old masters, are preparing themselves to enter the house of wisdom by the proper gate. On the other hand, such foolish mortals as believe they can breathe, chant, intone, psychologize or affirm themselves into a state of all knowing are trying to pick locks for which they have not filed the key. ~ Manly P Hall,
26:15-Look, I am with you, and I will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."
16-When Jacob woke up, he thought, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was unaware of it."
17-And he was afraid and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven!"... ~ Anonymous, The Bible, Genesis, 28:16, Berean Study Bible,
27:It will generally be found that, as soon as the terrors of life reach the point at which they outweigh the terrors of death, a man will put an end to his life. But the terrors of death offer considerable resistance; they stand like a sentinel at the gate leading out of this world. Perhaps there is no man alive who would not have already put an end to his life, if this end had been of a purely negative character, a sudden stoppage of existence. There is something positive about it; it is the destruction of the body; and a man shrinks from that, because his body is the manifestation of the will to live. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
28:It is a fact always known to all yogis and occultists since the beginning of time, in Europe and Africa as in India, that wherever yoga or Yajna is done, there the hostile Forces gather together to stop it by any means. It is known that there is a lower nature and a higher spiritual nature - it is known that they pull different ways and the lower is strongest at first and the higher afterwards. It is known that the hostile Forces take advantage of the movements of the lower nature and try to spoil through them, smash or retard the siddhi. It has been said as long ago as the Upanishads (hard is the path to tread, sharp like a razor's edge); it was said later by Christ 'hard is the way and narrow the gate by which one enters into the kingdom of heaven' and also 'many are called, few chosen' - because of these difficulties. But it has also always been known that those who are sincere and faithful in heart and remain so and those who rely on the Divine will arrive in spite of all difficulties, stumbles or falls.
   ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters On Yoga - III, Opposition of the Hostile Forces - I,
29:The key one and threefold, even as universal science. The division of the work is sevenfold, and through these sections are distributed the seven degrees of initiation into is transcendental philosophy.

The text is a mystical commentary on the oracles of Solomon, ^ and the work ends with a series of synoptic schedules which are the synthesis of Magic and the occult Kabalah so far as concerns that which can be made public in writing. The rest, being the esoteric and inexpressible part of the science, is formulated in magnificent pantacles carefully designed and engraved. These are nine in number, as follows

(1) The dogma of Hermes;
(2) Magical realisation;
(3) The path of wisdom and the initial procedure in the work
(4) The Gate of the Sanctuary enlightened by seven mystic rays;
(5) A Rose of Light, in the centre of which a human figure is extending its arms in the form of a cross;
(6) The magical laboratory of Khunrath, demonstrating the necessary union of prayer and work
(7) The absolute synthesis of science;
(8) Universal equilibrium ;
(9) A summary of Khunrath's personal embodying an energetic protest against all his detractors. ~ Eliphas Levi, The History Of Magic,
30:To See a World...

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A Dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fiber from the Brain does tear.

He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
The Beggar's Dog and Widow's Cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.
The Gnat that sings his Summer song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the Snake and Newt
Is the sweat of Envy's Foot.

A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy and Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.

Every Night and every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight.
Some are Born to sweet delight,
Some are Born to Endless Night. ~ William Blake, Auguries of Innocence,
31:From above to below, the sefirot depict the drama of emanation, the transition from Ein Sof to creation. In the words of Azriel of Gerona, "They constitute the process by which all things come into being and pass away." From below to above, the sefirot constitute a ladder of ascent back to the One. The union of Tif'eret and Shekhinah gives birth to the human soul, and the mystical journey begins with the awareness of this spiritual fact of life. Shekhinah is the opening to the divine: "One who enters must enter through this gate." Once inside, the sefirot are no longer an abstract theological system; they become a map of consciousness. The mystic climbs and probes, discovering dimensions of being. Spiritual and psychological wholeness is achieved by meditating on the qualities of each sefirah, by imitating and integrating the attributes of God. "When you cleave to the sefirot, the divine holy spirit enters into you, into every sensation and every movement." But the path is not easy. Divine will can be harsh: Abraham was commanded to sacrifice Isaac in order to balance love with rigor. From the Other Side, demonic forces threaten and seduce. [The demonic is rooted in the divine]. Contemplatively and psychologically, evil must be encountered, not evaded. By knowing and withstanding the dark underside of wisdom, the spiritual seeker is refined.~ Daniel C Matt, The Essential Kabbalah, 10,
32:During the stage of sadhana one should describe God by all His attributes. One day Hazra said to Narendra: 'God is Infinity. Infinite is His splendour. Do you think He will accept your offerings of sweets and bananas or listen to your music? This is a mistaken notion of yours.' Narendra at once sank ten fathoms. So I said to Hazra, 'You villain! Where will these youngsters be if you talk to them like that?' How can a man live if he gives up devotion? No doubt God has infinite splendour; yet He is under the control of His devotees. A rich man's gate-keeper comes to the parlour where his master is seated with his friends. He stands on one side of the room. In his hand he has something covered with a cloth. He is very hesitant. The master asks him, 'Well, gate-keeper, what have you in your hand?' Very hesitantly the servant takes out a custard-apple from under the cover, places it in front of his master, and says, 'Sir, it is my desire that you should eat this.' The Master is impressed by his servant's devotion. With great love he takes the fruit in his hand and says: 'Ah! This is a very nice custard-apple. Where did you pick it? You must have taken a great deal of trouble to get it.'

"God is under the control of His devotees. King Duryodhana was very attentive to Krishna and said to Him, 'Please have your meal here.' But the Lord went to Vidura's hut. He is very fond of His devotees. He ate Vidura's simple rice and greens as if they were celestial food. ~ Sri Ramakrishna,
33:AHA!"
There are seven keys to the great gate,
Being eight in one and one in eight.
First, let the body of thee be still,
Bound by the cerements of will,
Corpse-rigid; thus thou mayst abort
The fidget-babes that tense the thought.
Next, let the breath-rhythm be low,
Easy, regular, and slow;
So that thy being be in tune
With the great sea's Pacific swoon.
Third, let thy life be pure and calm
Swayed softly as a windless palm.
Fourth, let the will-to-live be bound
To the one love of the Profound.
Fifth, let the thought, divinely free
From sense, observe its entity.
Watch every thought that springs; enhance
Hour after hour thy vigilance!
Intense and keen, turned inward, miss
No atom of analysis!
Sixth, on one thought securely pinned
Still every whisper of the wind!
So like a flame straight and unstirred
Burn up thy being in one word!
Next, still that ecstasy, prolong
Thy meditation steep and strong,
Slaying even God, should He distract
Thy attention from the chosen act!
Last, all these things in one o'erpowered,
Time that the midnight blossom flowered!
The oneness is. Yet even in this,
My son, thou shalt not do amiss
If thou restrain the expression, shoot
Thy glance to rapture's darkling root,
Discarding name, form, sight, and stress
Even of this high consciousness;
Pierce to the heart! I leave thee here:
Thou art the Master. I revere
Thy radiance that rolls afar,
O Brother of the Silver Star! ~ Aleister Crowley,
34:There is a story I would like to tell you about a woman who practices the invocation of the Buddha Amitabha's name. She is very tough, and she practices the invocation three times daily, using a wooden drum and a bell, reciting, "Namo Amitabha Buddha" for one hour each time. When she arrives at one thousand times, she invites the bell to sound. (In Vietnamese, we don't say "strike" or "hit" a bell.) Although she has been doing this for ten years, her personality has not changed. She is still quite mean, shouting at people all the time.

A friend wanted to teach her a lesson, so one afternoon when she had just lit the incense, invited the bell to sound three times, and was beginning to recite "Namo Amitabha Buddha," he came to her door, and said, "Mrs. Nguyen, Mrs. Nguyen!" She found it very annoying because this was her time of practice, but he just stood at the front gate shouting her name. She said to herself, "I have to struggle against my anger, so I will ignore that," and she went on, "Namo Amitabha Buddha, Namo Amitabha Buddha."

The gentleman continued to shout her name, and her anger became more and more oppressive. She struggled against it, wondering, "Should I stop my recitation and go and give him a piece of my mind?" But she continued chanting, and she struggled very hard. Fire mounted in her, but she still tried to chant "Namo Amitabha Buddha." The gentleman knew it, and he continued to shout, "Mrs. Nguyen! Mrs. Nguyen!"

She could not bear it any longer. She threw away the bell and the drum. She slammed the door, went out to the gate and said, "Why, why do you behave like that? Why do you call my name hundreds of times like that?" The gentleman smiled at her and said, "I just called your name for ten minutes, and you are so angry. You have been calling the Buddha's name for ten years. Think how angry he must be! ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
35:Mother of Dreams :::

Goddess supreme, Mother of Dream, by thy ivory doors when thou standest,
Who are they then that come down unto men in thy visions that troop, group upon group, down the path of the shadows slanting?
Dream after dream, they flash and they gleam with the flame of the stars still around them;
Shadows at thy side in a darkness ride where the wild fires dance, stars glow and glance and the random meteor glistens;
There are voices that cry to their kin who reply; voices sweet, at the heart they beat and ravish the soul as it listens.

What then are these lands and these golden sands and these seas more radiant than earth can imagine?
Who are those that pace by the purple waves that race to the cliff-bound floor of thy jasper shore under skies in which mystery muses,
Lapped in moonlight not of our night or plunged in sunshine that is not diurnal?
Who are they coming thy Oceans roaming with sails whose strands are not made by hands, an unearthly wind advances?
Why do they join in a mystic line with those on the sands linking hands in strange and stately dances?

Thou in the air, with a flame in thy hair, the whirl of thy wonders watching,
Holdest the night in thy ancient right, Mother divine, hyacinthine, with a girdle of beauty defended.
Sworded with fire, attracting desire, thy tenebrous kingdom thou keepest,
Starry-sweet, with the moon at thy feet, now hidden now seen the clouds between in the gloom and the drift of thy tresses.
Only to those whom thy fancy chose, O thou heart-free, is it given to see thy witchcraft and feel thy caresses.

Open the gate where thy children wait in their world of a beauty undarkened.
High-throned on a cloud, victorious, proud I have espied Maghavan ride when the armies of wind are behind him;
Food has been given for my tasting from heaven and fruit of immortal sweetness;
I have drunk wine of the kingdoms divine and have healed the change of music strange from a lyre which our hands cannot master,
Doors have swung wide in the chambers of pride where the Gods reside and the Apsaras dance in their circles faster and faster.

For thou art she whom we first can see when we pass the bounds of the mortal;
There at the gates of the heavenly states thou hast planted thy wand enchanted over the head of the Yogin waving.
From thee are the dream and the shadows that seem and the fugitive lights that delude us;
Thine is the shade in which visions are made; sped by thy hands from celestial lands come the souls that rejoice for ever.
Into thy dream-worlds we pass or look in thy magic glass, then beyond thee we climb out of Space and Time to the peak of divine endeavour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems,
36:The Absolute is in itself indefinable by reason, ineffable to the speech; it has to be approached through experience. It can be approached through an absolute negation of existence, as if it were itself a supreme Non-Existence, a mysterious infinite Nihil. It can be approached through an absolute affirmation of all the fundamentals of our own existence, through an absolute of Light and Knowledge, through an absolute of Love or Beauty, through an absolute of Force, through an absolute of peace or silence. It can be approached through an inexpressible absolute of being or of consciousness, or of power of being, or of delight of being, or through a supreme experience in which these things become inexpressibly one; for we can enter into such an ineffable state and, plunged into it as if into a luminous abyss of existence, we can reach a superconscience which may be described as the gate of the Absolute. It is supposed that it is only through a negation of individual and cosmos that we can enter into the Absolute. But in fact the individual need only deny his own small separate ego-existence; he can approach the Absolute through a sublimation of his spiritual individuality taking up the cosmos into himself and transcending it; or he may negate himself altogether, but even so it is still the individual who by self-exceeding enters into the Absolute. He may enter also by a sublimation of his being into a supreme existence or super-existence, by a sublimation of his consciousness into a supreme consciousness or superconscience, by a sublimation of his and all delight of being into a super-delight or supreme ecstasy. He can make the approach through an ascension in which he enters into cosmic consciousness, assumes it into himself and raises himself and it into a state of being in which oneness and multiplicity are in perfect harmony and unison in a supreme status of manifestation where all are in each and each in all and all in the one without any determining individuation - for the dynamic identity and mutuality have become complete; on the path of affirmation it is this status of the manifestation that is nearest to the Absolute. This paradox of an Absolute which can be realised through an absolute negation and through an absolute affirmation, in many ways, can only be accounted for to the reason if it is a supreme Existence which is so far above our notion and experience of existence that it can correspond to our negation of it, to our notion and experience of nonexistence; but also, since all that exists is That, whatever its degree of manifestation, it is itself the supreme of all things and can be approached through supreme affirmations as through supreme negations. The Absolute is the ineffable x overtopping and underlying and immanent and essential in all that we can call existence or non-existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Life Divine, 2.06 - Reality and the Cosmic Illusion,
37:A God's Labour
I have gathered my dreams in a silver air
   Between the gold and the blue
And wrapped them softly and left them there,
   My jewelled dreams of you.

I had hoped to build a rainbow bridge
   Marrying the soil to the sky
And sow in this dancing planet midge
   The moods of infinity.

But too bright were our heavens, too far away,
   Too frail their ethereal stuff;
Too splendid and sudden our light could not stay;
   The roots were not deep enough.

He who would bring the heavens here
   Must descend himself into clay
And the burden of earthly nature bear
   And tread the dolorous way.

Coercing my godhead I have come down
   Here on the sordid earth,
Ignorant, labouring, human grown
   Twixt the gates of death and birth.

I have been digging deep and long
   Mid a horror of filth and mire
A bed for the golden river's song,
   A home for the deathless fire.

I have laboured and suffered in Matter's night
   To bring the fire to man;
But the hate of hell and human spite
   Are my meed since the world began.

For man's mind is the dupe of his animal self;
   Hoping its lusts to win,
He harbours within him a grisly Elf
   Enamoured of sorrow and sin.

The grey Elf shudders from heaven's flame
   And from all things glad and pure;
Only by pleasure and passion and pain
   His drama can endure.

All around is darkness and strife;
   For the lamps that men call suns
Are but halfway gleams on this stumbling life
   Cast by the Undying Ones.

Man lights his little torches of hope
   That lead to a failing edge;
A fragment of Truth is his widest scope,
   An inn his pilgrimage.

The Truth of truths men fear and deny,
   The Light of lights they refuse;
To ignorant gods they lift their cry
   Or a demon altar choose.

All that was found must again be sought,
   Each enemy slain revives,
Each battle for ever is fought and refought
   Through vistas of fruitless lives.

My gaping wounds are a thousand and one
   And the Titan kings assail,
But I dare not rest till my task is done
   And wrought the eternal will.

How they mock and sneer, both devils and men!
   "Thy hope is Chimera's head
Painting the sky with its fiery stain;
   Thou shalt fall and thy work lie dead.

"Who art thou that babblest of heavenly ease
   And joy and golden room
To us who are waifs on inconscient seas
   And bound to life's iron doom?

"This earth is ours, a field of Night
   For our petty flickering fires.
How shall it brook the sacred Light
   Or suffer a god's desires?

"Come, let us slay him and end his course!
   Then shall our hearts have release
From the burden and call of his glory and force
   And the curb of his wide white peace."

But the god is there in my mortal breast
   Who wrestles with error and fate
And tramples a road through mire and waste
   For the nameless Immaculate.

A voice cried, "Go where none have gone!
   Dig deeper, deeper yet
Till thou reach the grim foundation stone
   And knock at the keyless gate."

I saw that a falsehood was planted deep
   At the very root of things
Where the grey Sphinx guards God's riddle sleep
   On the Dragon's outspread wings.

I left the surface gauds of mind
   And life's unsatisfied seas
And plunged through the body's alleys blind
   To the nether mysteries.

I have delved through the dumb Earth's dreadful heart
   And heard her black mass' bell.
I have seen the source whence her agonies part
   And the inner reason of hell.

Above me the dragon murmurs moan
   And the goblin voices flit;
I have pierced the Void where Thought was born,
   I have walked in the bottomless pit.

On a desperate stair my feet have trod
   Armoured with boundless peace,
Bringing the fires of the splendour of God
   Into the human abyss.

He who I am was with me still;
   All veils are breaking now.
I have heard His voice and borne His will
   On my vast untroubled brow.

The gulf twixt the depths and the heights is bridged
   And the golden waters pour
Down the sapphire mountain rainbow-ridged
   And glimmer from shore to shore.

Heaven's fire is lit in the breast of the earth
   And the undying suns here burn;
Through a wonder cleft in the bounds of birth
   The incarnate spirits yearn

Like flames to the kingdoms of Truth and Bliss:
   Down a gold-red stairway wend
The radiant children of Paradise
   Clarioning darkness' end.

A little more and the new life's doors
   Shall be carved in silver light
With its aureate roof and mosaic floors
   In a great world bare and bright.

I shall leave my dreams in their argent air,
   For in a raiment of gold and blue
There shall move on the earth embodied and fair
   The living truth of you.
   ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, A God's Labour, 534,
38:[an Integral conception of the Divine :::
   But on that which as yet we know not how shall we concentrate? And yet we cannot know the Divine unless we have achieved this concentration of our being upon him. A concentration which culminates in a living realisation and the constant sense of the presence of the One in ourselves and in all of which we are aware, is what we mean in Yoga by knowledge and the effort after knowledge. It is not enough to devote ourselves by the reading of Scriptures or by the stress of philosophical reasoning to an intellectual understanding of the Divine; for at the end of our long mental labour we might know all that has been said of the Eternal, possess all that can be thought about the Infinite and yet we might not know him at all. This intellectual preparation can indeed be the first stage in a powerful Yoga, but it is not indispensable : it is not a step which all need or can be called upon to take. Yoga would be impossible, except for a very few, if the intellectual figure of knowledge arrived at by the speculative or meditative Reason were its indispensable condition or a binding preliminary. All that the Light from above asks of us that it may begin its work is a call from the soul and a sufficient point of support in the mind. This support can be reached through an insistent idea of the Divine in the thought, a corresponding will in the dynamic parts, an aspiration, a faith, a need in the heart. Any one of these may lead or predominate, if all cannot move in unison or in an equal rhythm. The idea may be and must in the beginning be inadequate; the aspiration may be narrow and imperfect, the faith poorly illumined or even, as not surely founded on the rock of knowledge, fluctuating, uncertain, easily diminished; often even it may be extinguished and need to be lit again with difficulty like a torch in a windy pass. But if once there is a resolute self-consecration from deep within, if there is an awakening to the soul's call, these inadequate things can be a sufficient instrument for the divine purpose. Therefore the wise have always been unwilling to limit man's avenues towards God; they would not shut against his entry even the narrowest portal, the lowest and darkest postern, the humblest wicket-gate. Any name, any form, any symbol, any offering has been held to be sufficient if there is the consecration along with it; for the Divine knows himself in the heart of the seeker and accepts the sacrifice.
   But still the greater and wider the moving idea-force behind the consecration, the better for the seeker; his attainment is likely to be fuller and more ample. If we are to attempt an integral Yoga, it will be as well to start with an idea of the Divine that is itself integral. There should be an aspiration in the heart wide enough for a realisation without any narrow limits. Not only should we avoid a sectarian religious outlook, but also all onesided philosophical conceptions which try to shut up the Ineffable in a restricting mental formula. The dynamic conception or impelling sense with which our Yoga can best set out would be naturally the idea, the sense of a conscious all-embracing but all-exceeding Infinite. Our uplook must be to a free, all-powerful, perfect and blissful One and Oneness in which all beings move and live and through which all can meet and become one. This Eternal will be at once personal and impersonal in his self-revelation and touch upon the soul. He is personal because he is the conscious Divine, the infinite Person who casts some broken reflection of himself in the myriad divine and undivine personalities of the universe. He is impersonal because he appears to us as an infinite Existence, Consciousness and Ananda and because he is the fount, base and constituent of all existences and all energies, -the very material of our being and mind and life and body, our spirit and our matter. The thought, concentrating on him, must not merely understand in an intellectual form that he exists, or conceive of him as an abstraction, a logical necessity; it must become a seeing thought able to meet him here as the Inhabitant in all, realise him in ourselves, watch and take hold on the movement of his forces. He is the one Existence: he is the original and universal Delight that constitutes all things and exceeds them: he is the one infinite Consciousness that composes all consciousnesses and informs all their movements; he is the one illimitable Being who sustains all action and experience; his will guides the evolution of things towards their yet unrealised but inevitable aim and plenitude. To him the heart can consecrate itself, approach him as the supreme Beloved, beat and move in him as in a universal sweetness of Love and a living sea of Delight. For his is the secret Joy that supports the soul in all its experiences and maintains even the errant ego in its ordeals and struggles till all sorrow and suffering shall cease. His is the Love and the Bliss of the infinite divine Lover who is drawing all things by their own path towards his happy oneness. On him the Will can unalterably fix as the invisible Power that guides and fulfils it and as the source of its strength. In the impersonality this actuating Power is a self-illumined Force that contains all results and calmly works until it accomplishes, in the personality an all wise and omnipotent Master of the Yoga whom nothing can prevent from leading it to its goal. This is the faith with which the seeker has to begin his seeking and endeavour; for in all his effort here, but most of all in his effort towards the Unseen, mental man must perforce proceed by faith. When the realisation comes, the faith divinely fulfilled and completed will be transformed into an eternal flame of knowledge.
   ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga, Self-Consecration, 82-83 [T1],

*** WISDOM TROVE ***

1:The gate of heaven is everywhere. ~ thomas-merton, @wisdomtrove
2:The wishing gate opens into nothing. ~ charles-spurgeon, @wisdomtrove
3:Truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through. ~ bob-dylan, @wisdomtrove
4:To realize the unimportance of time is the gate to wisdom. ~ bertrand-russell, @wisdomtrove
5:A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
6:Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate. ~ j-r-r-tolkien, @wisdomtrove
7:When money comes in at the gate, sport flies out at the window. ~ theodore-roosevelt, @wisdomtrove
8:Pale Death beats equally at the poor man's gate and at the palaces of kings. ~ horace, @wisdomtrove
9:Repulsion is the sentry that guards the gate to all that we most desire. ~ salvador-dali, @wisdomtrove
10:Death is no punishment to the believer: it is the gate of endless joy. ~ charles-spurgeon, @wisdomtrove
11:He who wants to do good knocks at the gate: he who loves finds the door open. ~ rabindranath-tagore, @wisdomtrove
12:Death hath this also; that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth envy. ~ francis-bacon, @wisdomtrove
13:Death is but changing of our robes to wait in wedding garments at the Eternal's gate. ~ sri-aurobindo, @wisdomtrove
14:Only a person who has passed through the gate of humility can ascend to the heights of the spirit. ~ rudolf-steiner, @wisdomtrove
15:There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street. ~ d-h-lawrence, @wisdomtrove
16:When I stretch, I stretch in such a way that my awareness moves, and a gate of awareness finally opens. ~ b-k-s-iyengar, @wisdomtrove
17:Death is for many of us the gate of hell; but we are inside on the way out, not outside on the way in. ~ george-bernard-shaw, @wisdomtrove
18:Both in thought and in feeling, even though time be real, to realise the unimportance of time is the gate of wisdom. ~ bertrand-russell, @wisdomtrove
19:Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind. ~ virginia-woolf, @wisdomtrove
20:The kingdom of God is just behind the darkness of closed eyes, and the first gate that opens to it is your peace. ~ paramahansa-yogananda, @wisdomtrove
21:But beauty itself is not given to us by anyone; it is a power we have within us from the gate, a radiance inside us. ~ marianne-williamson, @wisdomtrove
22:I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall. ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
23:saving Victim, opening wide The gate of heaven to man below, Our foes press on from every side, Thine aid supply, Thy strength bestow. ~ denis-diderot, @wisdomtrove
24:I give you the end of a golden string; / Only wind it into a ball, / It will lead you in at Heaven's gate, / Built in Jerusalem's wall. ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
25:Love is the master-key that opens the gates of happiness, of hatred, of jealousy, and, most easily of all, the gate of fear. ~ oliver-wendell-holmes-sr, @wisdomtrove
26:saving Victim, opening wide The gate of heaven to man below, Our foes press on from every side, Thine aid supply, Thy strength bestow. ~ thomas-aquinas, @wisdomtrove
27:The grave is Heaven's golden gate, And rich and poor around it wait; O Shepherdess of England's fold, Behold this gate of pearl and gold! ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
28:Poetry is the gate through which I enter the land of enchantment. Once inside the flaming wall, my limitations fall from me, and my spirit is free. ~ hellen-keller, @wisdomtrove
29:Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon. ~ henry-wadsworth-longfellow, @wisdomtrove
30:Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. ~ henry-wadsworth-longfellow, @wisdomtrove
31:When you come, please be so kind as to check your neuroses and psychoses at the gate... Fans and other obnoxious pests would do well to maintain silence. ~ henry-miller, @wisdomtrove
32:As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison. ~ nelson-mandela, @wisdomtrove
33:Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. ~ omar-khayyam, @wisdomtrove
34:It is written on the gate of heaven: Nothing in existence is more powerful than destiny. And destiny brought you here, to this page, which is part of your ticket-as all things are-to return to God. ~ hafez, @wisdomtrove
35:This is the ultimate end of man, to find the One which is in him; which is his truth, which is his soul; the key with which he opens the gate of the spiritual life, the heavenly kingdom. ~ rabindranath-tagore, @wisdomtrove
36:I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times, in life after life, in age after age forever. He who wants to do good, knocks at the gate; He who loves, finds the door open. ~ rabindranath-tagore, @wisdomtrove
37:Every phenomenon on earth is symbolic, and each symbol is an open gate through which the soul, if it is ready, can enter into the inner part of the world, where you and I and day and night are all one. ~ hermann-hesse, @wisdomtrove
38:Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate And though I oft have passed them by A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun. ~ j-r-r-tolkien, @wisdomtrove
39:General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall! ~ ronald-reagan, @wisdomtrove
40:She died&
41:It was a cold hard easterly morning when he latched the garden gate and turned away. The light snowfall which had feathered his schoolroom windows on the Thursday, still lingered in the air, and was falling white, while the wind blew black. ~ charles-dickens, @wisdomtrove
42:A dog starv'd at the master's gate Predicts the ruin of the State. A horse misus'd upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear, A skylark wounded on the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing. ~ william-blake, @wisdomtrove
43:At the great iron gate of the churchyard he stopped and looked in. He looked up at the high tower spectrally resisting the wind, and he looked round at the white tombstones, like enough to the dead in their winding-sheets, and he counted the nine tolls of the clock-bell. ~ charles-dickens, @wisdomtrove
44:For a warrior, nothing is higher than a war against evil. The warrior confronted with such a war should be pleased, Arjuna, for it comes as an open gate to heaven. But if you do not participate in this battle against evil, you will incur sin, violating your dharma and your honor. ~ swami-vivekananda, @wisdomtrove
45:There is more beauty in truth, even if it is a dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist life so that it looks sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar. ~ john-steinbeck, @wisdomtrove
46:Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.  For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half people's hunger. ~ kahlil-gibran, @wisdomtrove
47:At last, in the dead of the night, when the street was very still indeed, Little Dorrit laid the heavy head upon her bosom, and soothed her to sleep. And thus she sat at the gate, as it were alone; looking up at the stars, and seeing the clouds pass over them in their wild flight-which was the dance at Little Dorrit's party. ~ charles-dickens, @wisdomtrove
48:We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and God is shining through it all the time. God manifests Himself everywhere, in everything - in people and in things and in nature and in events ... The only thing is we don't see it ... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere. ~ thomas-merton, @wisdomtrove
49:... Individualistic material progress and the desire to gain prestige by coming out on top have taken over from the sense of fellowship, compassion and community. Now people live more or less on their own in a small house, jealously guarding their goods and planning to acquire more, with a notice on the gate that says, &
50:What is of the nature of spirit and soul must be gleaned from facts belonging to the spirit and soul; we shall then know that in the living thinking which is liberated from the will, a life-germ has been discerned which passes through the gate of death, goes through the spiritual world after death, and afterwards returns again to earthly life. ~ rudolf-steiner, @wisdomtrove
51:I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed. Since I leave now all gold and silver, and go where it is of little worth, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate. . . If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. ~ j-r-r-tolkien, @wisdomtrove
52:Now I am in the garden at the back . . . a very preserve of butterflies as I remember it, with a high fence, and a gate . . . where the fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than fruit has ever been since, in any other garden, and where my mother gathers some in a basket while I stand by, bolting furtive gooseberries, and trying to look unnerved. ~ charles-dickens, @wisdomtrove
53:Renovating temples does not mean building great gate towers or receptacles for offerings. What we should focus on is the regular conduct of worship according to tradition, regular satsang, devotional singing, and so forth. Our devotion and faith give life to temples, not rituals and ceremonies. Children, we should remember this when we are involved in temple matters. ~ mata-amritanandamayi, @wisdomtrove
54:[Consider] a fence or gate erected across a road] The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it." ~ g-k-chesterton, @wisdomtrove
55:Book ideas are like planes, lined up to approach the runway. Some never leave the gate, but others move quickly to the front of the line. It was like that with The Four Purposes. Honestly, I cannot remember the moment I had the idea for the book; perhaps because it emerged like a green shoot emerging from the soil of my subconscious. But it seemed important enough to begin the flow of words that eventually shaped themselves into this new book. ~ dan-millman, @wisdomtrove
56:We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. ~ t-s-eliot, @wisdomtrove
57:Patanjali, declares that the true secret of evolution is the manifestation of the perfection which is already in every being; that this perfection has been barred and the infinite tide behind is struggling to express itself. These struggles and competitions are but the results of our ignorance, because we do not know the proper way to unlock the gate and let the water in. This infinite tide behind must express itself; it is the cause of all manifestation. ~ swami-vivekananda, @wisdomtrove
58:Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a cold mist as I sit alone and wait at life's shut gate. Beyond there is light, and music, and sweet companionship; but I may not enter. Fate, silent, pitiless, bars the way…Silence sits immense upon my soul. Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, there is joy is self-forgetfulness.' So I try to make the light in others' eyes my sun, the music in others; ears my symphony, the smile on others' lips my happiness. ~ hellen-keller, @wisdomtrove
59:Regarding perfection, that's a very difficult question. I can say that I have superseded most in my sadhana [practice]. I am in it, and my mind and my intelligence gets better in my sadhana, and it reaches a certain place. When I stretch, I stretch in such a way that my awareness moves, and a gate of awareness finally opens... My body is a laboratory, you can say. I don't stretch my body as if it is an object. I do yoga from the self towards the body, not the other way around. ~ b-k-s-iyengar, @wisdomtrove
60:Under the Mountain dark and tall The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall. The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fells like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. -from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song) ~ j-r-r-tolkien, @wisdomtrove
61:.. gave itself no name, because it set itself no sectarian limits; it claimed no universal adhesion, asserted no sole infallible dogma, set up no single narrow path or gate of salvation; it was less a creed or cult than a continuously enlarging tradition of the Godward endeavour of the human spirit. An immense many-sided many-staged provision for a spiritual self-building and self-finding, it had some right to speak of itself by the only name it knew, the eternal religion, Sanatana Dharma. ~ sri-aurobindo, @wisdomtrove
62:We might have been ready to offer sympathy, but in actuality there were stronger reasons to want to congratulate her for having found such a powerful motive to feel sad. We should have envied her for having located someone without whom she so firmly felt she could not survive, beyond the gate let along in a bare student bedroom in a suburb of Rio. If she had been able to view her situation from a sufficient distance, she might have been able to recognise this as one of the high points in her life. ~ alain-de-botton, @wisdomtrove
63:The zazen I speak of is not learning meditation. It is simply the Dharma gate of repose and bliss, the practice-realization of totally culminated enlightenment. It is the manifestation of ultimate reality. Traps and snares can never reach it. Once its heart is grasped, you are like the dragon when he gains the water, like the tiger when she enters the mountain. For you must know that just there (in zazen) the right Dharma is manifesting itself and that, from the first, dullness and distraction are struck aside. ~ dogen, @wisdomtrove
64:They hammered on the outer gate and called, but there was at first no answer; and then to their surprise someone blew a horn, and the lights in the windows went out. A voice shouted in the dark: &
65:This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth. ~ virginia-woolf, @wisdomtrove
66:There was a wall. It did not look important. It was built of uncut rocks roughly mortared. An adult could look right over it, and even a child could climb it. Where it crossed the roadway, instead of having a gate it degenerated into mere geometry, a line, an idea of boundary. But the idea was real. It was important. For seven generations there had been nothing in the world more important than that wall. Like all walls it was ambiguous, two-faced. What was inside it and what was outside it depended upon which side of it you were on. ~ ursula-k-le-guin, @wisdomtrove

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:The gate is inside you. ~ S G Redling,
2:Call it the Star Gate. ~ Arthur C Clarke,
3:gate at the chain-link fence ~ Kent Haruf,
4:The enemy gate is down. ~ Orson Scott Card,
5:Your soul to the White Gate. ~ Phil Tucker,
6:The enemy's gate is down. ~ Orson Scott Card,
7:arrested outside White House gate ~ Anonymous,
8:The enemy’s gate was down. ~ Orson Scott Card,
9:Sincerity is the gate to Divinity. ~ The Mother,
10:main gate of Fort Huachuca. I turned ~ J A Jance,
11:The gate of heaven is everywhere. ~ Thomas Merton,
12:THE GATE TO FUTURES PAST (#2)* ~ Julie E Czerneda,
13:A dog starv'd at the master's gate ~ William Blake,
14:The gate is the key to the kingdom. ~ Stephen King,
15:The grave is Heaven's golden gate, ~ William Blake,
16:Vienna is the gate to Eastern Europe. ~ Niki Lauda,
17:Soft pity enters an iron gate. ~ William Shakespeare,
18:Age and want sit smiling at the gate. ~ Alexander Pope,
19:Every barrier she turned into a gate. ~ Kristin Hannah,
20:Remember, the enemy's gate is down. ~ Orson Scott Card,
21:The door here is high, and the gate is wide. ~ Jo Nesb,
22:Death is the gate of life. ~ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux,
23:The wishing gate opens into nothing. ~ Charles Spurgeon,
24:Sorrow opens the gate to the Grace of God ~ Tim Willocks,
25:Mathematics is the gate and key to science. ~ Roger Bacon,
26:A gate to nature is a gate to heaven! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
27:Its gate, from which at first they issued forth, ~ Lao Tzu,
28:And to the faithful: death, the gate of life. ~ John Milton,
29:If the stable gate is closed, climb the fence. ~ Julie Krone,
30:May your seed take hold of the gate of its foes. ~ Anonymous,
31:You can park your snark at the gate, Omaha. ~ Rainbow Rowell,
32:The forehead is the gate of the mind. ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero,
33:the resolution of the great West Gate Prophecy. ~ Janny Wurts,
34:Death is for many of us the gate of hell; ~ George Bernard Shaw,
35:Love opens the gate to the deepest hurt.” “That ~ Jonathan Renshaw,
36:the gate. He looked as though he had been sleeping; his ~ Jean Sasson,
37:limousine swung off the road and drove through a gate ~ Jeffrey Archer,
38:You get your visions through whatever gate you're granted. ~ Ken Kesey,
39:Can you open and close the gate of Heaven and act like a woman? ~ Laozi,
40:Hate is bait for the devil, love is the gate to god ~ Benny Bellamacina,
41:You wanna know what a gateway drug is? It opens a gate. ~ Eugene Mirman,
42:No-thinking is the door. No-word is the gate. No-mind is the way. ~ Osho,
43:Protected by a security gate and an electronic keypad. You ~ Terry Hayes,
44:A distant enemy is always preferable to one at the gate. ~ Emile M Cioran,
45:'Tis writ on Paradise's gate, Woe to the dupe that yields to fate! ~ Hafez,
46:trumpeters on the Marathon Gate sounded a fanfare. The ~ Daniel James Brown,
47:What if he did just that? What if he went through the gate? ~ Christa Faust,
48:And 5:25 when the screaming started outside the main gate. ~ William Goldman,
49:It's common to go from 'crashing the gate' to guarding it. ~ Glenn Greenwald,
50:there. “The guard at the gate can confirm my story,” he said. ~ Stuart Woods,
51:Trust in dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. ~ Khalil Gibran,
52:Truth is an arrow and the gate is narrow that it passes through. ~ Bob Dylan,
53:To realize the unimportance of time is the gate to wisdom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
54:You've opened the gate. Now it's a matter of walking through. ~ Andrea Cremer,
55:Life ran to gaze from every gate of sense: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, Satyavan,
56:The enemy is at the gate. It is a question of life and death. ~ Andrei Zhdanov,
57:gate?’ she added. ‘Boss, this is information from Passport and ~ Robert Bryndza,
58:I believe the Rolling Stones wanted to play in Golden Gate Park. ~ Paul Kantner,
59:As this life is not a gate, but the horse plunging through it. ~ Jane Hirshfield,
60:There will be no fraternal strife while the foe is at the gate. ~ Menachem Begin,
61:sluice gate. Then they opened the door and opened the hatch ~ James D Hornfischer,
62:When you think of it that way, every murderer is a Gate of Heaven. ~ Stephen King,
63:A dog starved at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. ~ William Blake,
64:Fear doesn't go away but you walk toward fear naked and the gate opens. ~ Starhawk,
65:All roads end at the grave, which is the gate to nothingness. ~ George Bernard Shaw,
66:before the gate -- my walking stick's made a river of melting snow ~ Kobayashi Issa,
67:Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate. ~ J R R Tolkien,
68:The gate of heaven is very low; only the humble can enter it. ~ Elizabeth Ann Seton,
69:You don’t have to march into hell every single time they open the gate. ~ Dan Wells,
70:A gate of dreams ajar on mystery’s verge. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Symbol Dawn,
71:When money comes in at the gate, sport flies out at the window. ~ Theodore Roosevelt,
72:wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to temptation! ~ Eric Jerome Dickey,
73:Pale Death beats equally at the poor man's gate and at the palaces of kings. ~ Horace,
74:When Randolph Carter was thirty he lost the key of the gate of dreams. ~ H P Lovecraft,
75:for strait is the gate that leads to life, and few are those who find it. ~ John Bunyan,
76:Holy Mother is not meant to be a fence: Holy Mother is a Gate. ~ Clarissa Pinkola Est s,
77:Repulsion is the sentry that guards the gate to all that we most desire. ~ Salvador Dal,
78:The Gate is Straight, Deep and Wide; Break On Through to the other side. ~ Jim Morrison,
79:If you can put your five fingers throught it, it is a gate, if not a door. ~ James Joyce,
80:Repulsion is the sentry that guards the gate to all that we most desire. ~ Salvador Dali,
81:before the gate --
my walking stick's made a river
of melting snow ~ Kobayashi Issa,
82:Death is no punishment to the believer: it is the gate of endless joy. ~ Charles Spurgeon,
83:No sheep wants to be first through the gate, but every sheep will be second. ~ Tucker Max,
84:The gate is straight, Deep and wide, Break on through to the other side... ~ Jim Morrison,
85:Each of us guard a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. ~ Stephen Covey,
86:Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate. ~ J R R Tolkien, [T5],
87:What boots it at one gate to make defence, And at another to let in the foe? ~ John Milton,
88:Harry vaulted over the locked park gate and set off across the parched grass. ~ J K Rowling,
89:When infinity opens to us, terrible indeed is the closing of the gate behind. ~ Victor Hugo,
90:Where the Mystery is the deepest is the gate of all that is subtle and wonderful. ~ Lao Tzu,
91:Dreams out of the ivory gate, and visions before midnight. —SIR THOMAS BROWNE, ~ Clive James,
92:Each of us guard a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. ~ Stephen R Covey,
93:This is where I stand, at the bottom gate, and I hold the key to the abyss ~ Ross E Lockhart,
94:Be thou glad sleeper and thy sorrow offcast. I am the gate to all good adventure. ~ C S Lewis,
95:Drive out the tiger by the front gate and let in the wolf by the back gate,... ~ Pearl S Buck,
96:This is where I stand, at the bottom gate, and I hold the key to the abyss… ~ Ross E Lockhart,
97:You're about to enter the future gate.
Come in now, or later will be too late. ~ Toba Beta,
98:This is where we leave you. The sentries at the gate will tell you what to do. ~ Justin Cronin,
99:When once the gate is opened to self-torture, the whole army of fiends files in. ~ Henry James,
100:It is the Spirit of God alone who opens the gate of heaven to the elect. Further, ~ John Calvin,
101:The longest part of the journey is said to be the passing of the gate. ~ Marcus Terentius Varro,
102:We did not choose to be the guardians of the gate, but there is no one else. ~ Lyndon B Johnson,
103:Didn't anyone ever tell you that the mouth is the front gate of all misfortune? ~ Andrew Davidson,
104:Didn’t anyone ever tell you that the mouth is the front gate of all misfortune? ~ Andrew Davidson,
105:[Rome], who was formerly the gate of heaven, is now a sort of open mouth of hell. ~ Martin Luther,
106:I'm not someone who went to acting school - I was just out of the gate, doing it. ~ Natasha Lyonne,
107:Breath remains the vehicle to unite body and mind and to open the gate to wisdom. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
108:He who wants to do good knocks at the gate: he who loves finds the door open. ~ Rabindranath Tagore,
109:Only through Beauty's morning-gate, dost thou penetrate the land of knowledge. ~ Friedrich Schiller,
110:strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it." [Matt. 7:14] ~ Anonymous,
111:A woman's body is the gate to this life. A man's body is the gate to the next life. ~ Louise Erdrich,
112:Humble we must be, if to heaven we go; High is the roof there, but the gate is low. ~ Robert Herrick,
113:(on Warner Brothers) This studio has more suspensions than the Golden Gate Bridge. ~ Humphrey Bogart,
114:Repentance lifts a man up. Mourning knocks at heaven's gate. Holy humility opens it. ~ John Climacus,
115:Death is but changing of our robes to wait in wedding garments at the Eternal's gate. ~ Sri Aurobindo,
116:For every second of time was the strait gate through which the Messiah might enter. ~ Walter Benjamin,
117:Love clamors far more incessantly and passionately at a closed gate than an open one! ~ Marie Corelli,
118:Escape? There is one unwatched way: your eyes. O Beauty! Keep me good that secret gate. ~ Wilfred Owen,
119:If you hear Bing Crosby trying to swing, it doesn't work. He swings like a rusty gate. ~ Frank Stallone,
120:Once in a thousand years the sea/ smothers the moon at my window/ opens a gate in my heart: ~ Jo Graham,
121:Sometimes just getting up in the morning and standing at the gate can bring the gate down. ~ Joan Bauer,
122:Christiana alures her to the Gate which is Christ, and promiseth there to enquire for her. ~ John Bunyan,
123:The future is only the past Entered again by a different gate. —Sir Arthur Wing Pinero ~ Linda Lay Shuler,
124:A joyous little creature, so beautiful, It was as if a gate of Heaven opened as she came in. ~ Victor Hugo,
125:Broad is the gate that leads to destruction, but narrow the way that leads to salvation. . . . ~ Greg Iles,
126:Jack leaped over the gate, his sword aflame. To vanquish his foe and rescue his love. ~ Melissa de la Cruz,
127:Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eon of the gods. ~ James Joyce,
128:Any object, intensely regarded, may be a gate of access to the incorruptible eons of the gods. ~ James Joyce,
129:Becoming a child is living the Beatitudes and so finding the narrow gate into the Kingdom. ~ Henri J M Nouwen,
130:I know we were conjugating the verb love like two maniacs trying to fuck through an iron gate. ~ Henry Miller,
131:On a snowy winter morning, Martise of Neith—once of Asher—opened a gate and awakened darkness. ~ Grace Draven,
132:One thing he had learned in this life—there were always barbarians at both sides of the gate. He ~ Roxane Gay,
133:The dead were gone through Hood’s Gate. The living were left with the pain of their passage. ~ Steven Erikson,
134:What seemed the source and end was a wide gate, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Adoration of the Divine Mother,
135:Someone told her she couldn’t do something; she did it. Every barrier she turned into a gate. ~ Kristin Hannah,
136:A good heart is a universal key that opens the door of the unthinkable gate of goodness ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah,
137:In heaven and earth, pride, self-exaltation, is the gate and the birth, and the curse, of hell.1 ~ Andrew Murray,
138:Like mercy from heaven's gate, there's a freedom in your arms that carries me through. I need you. ~ LeAnn Rimes,
139:Open thy gate of mercy, gracious God, My soul flies through these wounds to seek out thee. ~ William Shakespeare,
140:14For the gate is narrow and  h the way is hard that leads to life, and  i those who find it are few. ~ Anonymous,
141:The higher you climb, the more Satan will take notice. Keep climbing! Heaven's gate has a lock. ~ Shannon L Alder,
142:You can stay and die or you can walk your ugly ass back through that gate. It's your call, pal. ~ Dante Alighieri,
143:I am a gate for God to accomplish great things. Through me and with me, new Life enters the world. ~ Julia Cameron,
144:Great is the gate and narrow is the way which leadeth to life, and few there be who find it.” And ~ Joseph Campbell,
145:Many a thief is a better man than many a clergyman, and miles nearer to the gate of the kingdom. ~ George MacDonald,
146:Scripture brought me to the Gate of Paradise, and the mind stood in wonder as it entered. ~ Saint Ephrem the Syrian,
147:There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street. ~ D H Lawrence,
148:If you knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
149:At the departure gate, a drunken airport security woman was handing out box cutters to the passengers. ~ Warren Ellis,
150:Fine. No more carelessly tossing people out through the gate."
"And more sword fights!" Kaden yelled. ~ Kiera Cass,
151:Is it so unjust that a man should leave the world by the same gate through which he entered it? ~ Georg C Lichtenberg,
152:Other than an apparant Underworld gate, I had no idea what was in Kansas. Hay bales? Dorothy? ~ Jennifer L Armentrout,
153:Suffering for truth's sake Is fortitude to highest victory, And to the faithful death the gate of life. ~ John Milton,
154:When I walked out of the gate I knew that if I continued to hate these people I was still in prison. ~ Nelson Mandela,
155:But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart. ~ E E Cummings,
156:Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction. ~ Buddhist Texts,
157:One more patronizing comment and I will have you slice off and nail your own tongue to the palace gate. ~ Marissa Meyer,
158:There's a phrase over the door; she called to him. "Haec est porta coeli."..."Here is the gate to heaven. ~ Nancy Horan,
159:When I stretch, I stretch in such a way that my awareness moves, and a gate of awareness finally opens. ~ B K S Iyengar,
160:For me, modern technology has ruined romance and movies - nobody can run to the airplane gate anymore. ~ Lorene Scafaria,
161:San Francisco! City of dreaming spires, people live here... Golden Gate Bridge, ahh the Romans came here. ~ Eddie Izzard,
162:a great publicity is a high way to remote customers and a universal key to the gate of ignorance ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah,
163:24†“Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for †many, I say to you, will seek to enter and will not be able. ~ Anonymous,
164:At the door of life by the gate of breath, There are worse things waiting for men than death. ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne,
165:Most people don’t land their dream job right out of the gate, which means we all have to start somewhere. ~ Sophia Amoruso,
166:The sign over the gate read: First Church of the Unleaded God & Ace High Refinery WELCOME KEEP OUT ~ John Joseph Adams,
167:Unless it's done superbly, as in the Japanese film Gate of Hell, color can be a very distracting element. ~ Norman McLaren,
168:I don't regard my life
as insufficient.
Inside the brushwood gate
there is a moon;
there are flowers. ~ Ry kan,
169:As we drove into Harrow-gate, the atmosphere in the car was heavy with Miss Winter’s oppressive silence. ~ Diane Setterfield,
170:for the entire wrought-iron gate, not just the lock, liquefied into a puddle of molten metal. Whoops. My bad. ~ Rick Riordan,
171:Humility before the flower at the timber line is the gate which gives access to the path up the open fell. ~ Dag Hammarskj ld,
172:Humility before the flower at the timber line is the gate which gives access to the path up the open fell. ~ Dag Hammarskjold,
173:It is very risky. But each time a child opens a book, he pushes open the gate that separates him from Elsewhere. ~ Lois Lowry,
174:Leo Valdez!" the spirit howled. "Open this gate or I will kill you!"
"A fair and generous offer!" Leo said. ~ Rick Riordan,
175:Reimbursement may be sometimes small, but then great ability can never be measured by the tickets at the gate. ~ Eddie Harris,
176:Morning is a gate, a gate to life; night is a gate, a gate to life. Use both gates to fully join the life! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
177:Woman is the gate of the devil, the road to iniquity, the sting of the scorpion, in a word, a dangerous species. ~ Saint Jerome,
178:You’d better open the gate soon, or your mother’s going to put you in time-out when she finally gets in the house, ~ Kelly Oram,
179:I would like to register the fact that this fucking sucks," she said.
"Noted," he said, shutting the gate. ~ Alexandra Bracken,
180:Civilian notions about unreasonable search and seizure and warrants and probable cause stop at an army post main gate. ~ Lee Child,
181:But in dying so suddenly her mother had become a riddle at the gate instead of the road you walked to get there. ~ Stephanie Kallos,
182:Matthew 7:14 Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. ~ Anonymous,
183:The two men shook hands, then the cowboy walked through the main gate to an anonymous Buick and drove away. Watching ~ Robert Crais,
184:I had no idea that the gate I would step through to finally enter this world would be the space my brother’s body made. ~ Marie Howe,
185:No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. ~ Stephen R Covey,
186:I can build a hyperphase jump gate, I'm sure I could have figured sex out. Insert Tab M into Slot F. Repeat until done. ~ Wen Spencer,
187:I'll see you in hell.  You'd better be ready, because I'll be looking for your ass as soon as I step through the gate. ~ Hilary Storm,
188:You know what I do? I steal things. Fuck 'em! I grab a handful of candy bars and six magazines and head for the gate. ~ George Carlin,
189:And then, because it was the right time and a gate had shattered inside me, I said, “I love you, and I love you for loving me. ~ Tijan,
190:With the right alignment, everything you want makes its way into your experience. You are the keeper of your own gate. ~ Esther Hicks,
191:A woman walks by the gate, leading a little boy with a balloon of hunger in his belly and hair bleached by malnutrition. ~ Mohsin Hamid,
192:Both in thought and in feeling, even though time be real, to realise the unimportance of time is the gate of wisdom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
193:Both in thought and in feeling, even though time be real, to realize the unimportance of time is the gate of wisdom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
194:In the end, no one cared that her freedom didn’t look like the freedom of her sisters.   16 THE GATE OF SECRET TRUTHS ~ Roshani Chokshi,
195:My mother was not one to say to her children “I love you”. It was an assumed truth, given freely at the gate of the womb. ~ Eugenia Kim,
196:The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, God made them, high or lowly, And order'd their estate. ~ Cecil Frances Alexander,
197:could not in good conscience take the sole accusation of a fifteen-year-old as absolute truth right out of the gate. ~ Christian Galacar,
198:I'm sorry your bad dream died," I said as I left her and walked toward the gate. "And I'm sorry I ever met you, Annie Kate. ~ Pat Conroy,
199:I wasn’t scared, but I had started making sure the gate was locked at night and asking God what happens when you die. ~ Malala Yousafzai,
200:My family isn’t safe. Mermen from Natatoria are coming today to reclaim the house and reopen the gate. We have to leave. ~ Brenda Pandos,
201:See, this divine lover is at the gate. He does not merely knock, but He remains there knocking. He calls to the soul. ~ Francis de Sales,
202:(The gate in Jerusalem known as “The Needle’s Eye” was built during the middle ages and was not in existence in Jesus’ day.) ~ Anonymous,
203:The Great Way has no gate. Clear water has no taste. The tongue has no bone. In complete stillness, a stone girl is dancing. ~ Seungsahn,
204:Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind. ~ Virginia Woolf,
205:The kingdom of God is just behind the darkness of closed eyes, and the first gate that opens to it is your peace. ~ Paramahansa Yogananda,
206:But beauty itself is not given to us by anyone; it is a power we have within us from the gate, a radiance inside us. ~ Marianne Williamson,
207:He gave me a slice of honeycomb, and shooed me into the garden, where the raspberries snarled along the white gate. And ~ Jonathan Strahan,
208:When a human being resists his whole age and stops it at the gate to demand an accounting, this must have influence. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
209:Death lay beneath him like a gate of sleep. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Yoga of the King, The Yoga of the Spirit’s Freedom and Greatness,
210:Project The Forgotten Room Impact The Third Gate The Monster of Florence Terminal Freeze    (with Mario Spezi) Deep Storm ~ Douglas Preston,
211:For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes, and one goes in, and the other goes away. ~ Charles Dickens,
212:Death is but changing of our robes to wait
In wedding garments at the Eternal’s gate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, The Fear of Death,
213:south of Golden Gate Park, and he took a job working for a finance company as a “repo man,” picking the locks of cars whose ~ Walter Isaacson,
214:The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling; The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling. ~ Heinrich Heine,
215:Drafting is like painting the Golden Gate Bridge.The closer you get to the end, the more you start to worry about the beginning. ~ Peter James,
216:See, this divine lover is at the gate. He does not merely knock, but He remains there knocking. He calls to the soul. ~ Saint Francis de Sales,
217:The boy is your gate to the man in black. The man in black is your gate to the three. The three are your way to the Dark Tower. ~ Stephen King,
218:When we allow our fears and insecurities to blind us momentarily, we’re often tempted to make the gate narrower than God does. ~ Brian Houston,
219:17And he was afraid and said, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven. ~ Anonymous,
220:But the gate to life is narrow and the way that leads to it is hard, and there are few people who find it.” (Matthew 7:13–14 TEV) ~ John Bevere,
221:Life is a garden, not a road. We enter and exit through the same gate. Wandering, where we go matters less than what we notice. ~ Kurt Vonnegut,
222:To the man who has begun to hate himself the gate to degeneration has already opened; and the same is true of a nation. Our ~ Swami Vivekananda,
223:Are you the welcoming committee? Or has Jeremy finally chained you up to the front gate where you belong?" "I missed you too. ~ Kelley Armstrong,
224:I failed in some subject but my friend pass in all,today he is an engineer in microsoft and iam is owner of microsoft.
-Bills Gate ~ Gangaji,
225:I give you the end of a golden string, Only wind it into a ball, It will lead you in at Heaven's gate Built in Jerusalem's wall. ~ William Blake,
226:Okay,” Nina said. “What if you two drop the special acid and concentrate on opening the gate again, and I’ll stand by with Lulu. ~ Christa Faust,
227:The elders have left the city •gate, the young men, their music. g 15 Joy has left our hearts; h our dancing has turned to mourning. ~ Anonymous,
228:If the gate to your precious room is always left ajar, people shall least knock before entering into your precious room! ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah,
229:Oh you, straying heart, just come! Oh you, aching liver, just come! If the path to the gate is closed, Take the way by the wall, but come! ~ Rumi,
230:Are you the welcoming committee? Or has Jeremy finally chained you up to the front gate where you belong?"
"I missed you too. ~ Kelley Armstrong,
231:They are not long, the weeping and the laughter. Love and desire and hate; I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. ~ Ernest Dowson,
232:By his own admission, he would rather run ten miles, leap a five-bar gate and climb a big hill than engage in any athletic activity. ~ Terry Pratchett,
233:It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul. ~ Liane Moriarty,
234:It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. ~ Robert Masello,
235:Last night I dreamed I went to hillbilly heaven and you know who greeted me at the gate? The ole cowboy-philosopher himself, Will Rogers. ~ Tex Ritter,
236:And those who say, "I'll try anything once," often try nothing twice, three times, arriving late at the gate of dreams worth dying for. ~ Carl Sandburg,
237:I swallow the fear in my throat as his cold eyes hold mine.
“Go to Hell,” I whisper.
“I’m the gate keeper of Hell, baby. Welcome home. ~ T L Swan,
238:It takes a man of genius to travel in his own country, in his native village; to make any progress between his door and his gate. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
239:Love is the master-key that opens the gates of happiness, of hatred, of jealousy, and, most easily of all, the gate of fear. ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr,
240:Stars pebbled the heavens and I vowed to never take the beauty for granted once we were back home, guarding the gate like it should be. ~ Brenda Pandos,
241:My particular grief Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature That it engluts and swallows other sorrows, And it is still itself. ~ William Shakespeare,
242:The Center squatted on the corner of Juniper and Montfort behind a wrought-iron gate, like an old bulldog used to guarding its territory. ~ Jodi Picoult,
243:The gate, probably built to accommodate an elephant procession, opens slowly and reveals an abandoned city dreamed up by a doomed king. ~ Mohammed Hanif,
244:I give you the end of a golden string,
Only wind it into a ball,
It will lead you in at Heaven's gate
Built in Jerusalem's wall. ~ William Blake,
245:Thou must die to thyself to reach God’s height:
I, Death, am the gate of immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real,
246:He would start it, I think, at the gate of Millbank, the point that every visitor must pass when they arrive to make their tour of the gaols. ~ Sarah Waters,
247:four separate columns launched into Delhi through breaches in the city’s northern and western walls, between Kashmiri Gate and Lahori Gate. ~ Rajmohan Gandhi,
248:It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll; I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. ~ William Ernest Henley,
249:Oh you, straying heart, just come!
Oh you, aching liver, just come!
If the path to the gate is closed,
Take the way by the wall, but come! ~ Rumi,
250:On the king's gate the moss grew gray;The king came not. They called him deadAnd made his eldest son one daySlave in his father's stead. ~ Helen Hunt Jackson,
251:Seek the Divine Love through the only gate through which it will consent to enter, the gate of the psychic being. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Yoga - IV, Sex,
252:The world will not spin slower or faster when we have passed through the gate together. What remains is light on water, or a shifting shadow. ~ Emmi It ranta,
253:He knew that it is as difficult for a rich man to go to heaven as it is for a camel to go through the gate in Jerusalem called the Needle's. ~ Ford Madox Ford,
254:Management is the gate through which social and economic and political change, indeed change in every direction, is diffused though society. ~ Robert McNamara,
255:You know how it is when one talks of liberty. Everything seems beautifully simple. One expects every gate to open and every wall to fall flat. ~ Robert Graves,
256:Closing the gate on her oldest fears as she had closed the gate of her own fenced yard, she discovered the wings she'd always wished she had. ~ Natalie Babbitt,
257:Did you see any Ouija boards or salt circles? Any summoning Cthulhu with a pop-up gate to hell? I hear the Dark Lord loves toasted marshmallows. ~ Laura Bickle,
258:O saving Victim, opening wide The gate of heaven to man below, Our foes press on from every side, Thine aid supply, Thy strength bestow. ~ Saint Thomas Aquinas,
259:The desire that is satisfied is not a great desire, nor has the shoulder used all its might that an unbreakable gate has never strained. ~ William Butler Yeats,
260:The enemy is more easily overcome if he be not suffered to enter the door of our hearts, but be resisted without the gate at his first knock. ~ Thomas a Kempis,
261:The Golden Gate Bridge should have a long bungee cord for people who aren't quite ready to commit suicide but want to get in a little practice. ~ George Carlin,
262:We were mugged by some senior citizens on the way from the chopper to the main gate, but no great harm done; they were using vintage revolvers. ~ Alfred Bester,
263:How narrow is the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life, and few there are that find it!”6 are words of our Lord. 8. The narrow gate ~ Juan de la Cruz,
264:Before the castle gate all was as the fox had said: so the son went in and found the chamber where the golden bird hung in a wooden cage, and below ~ Jacob Grimm,
265:Holy swoon-gate!' Elliot exclaims when I finally get to the end of my tale. 'If that's what Brooklyn boys are like I'm emigrating as soon as possible! ~ Zoe Sugg,
266:Inside the Great Mystery that is, we don't really own anything. What is this competition we feel then, before we go, one at a time, through the same gate? ~ Rumi,
267:The narrow gate is not, as so often assumed, doctrinal correctness. The narrow gate is obedience—and the confidence in Jesus necessary to it. We ~ Dallas Willard,
268:This path`s a dire thing,
the gate it leads to
is like a corpse
over which ten thousand
nightmares bicker
their fruitless claims. ~ Steven Erikson,
269:I am lonely here sometimes. I'm like the gate, swinging in the breeze when I long for someone to just secure the latch and stop me from flailing about ~ Sarah Jio,
270:If the golden gate of preferment is not usually opened to men of real merit, persons of no worth have entered it in a most extraordinary manner. ~ Isaac D Israeli,
271:I like celluloid, I like film, I like the way that when a movie is projected it sort of breathes a little in the gate. That's the magic of it to me. ~ Gary Oldman,
272:It can hardly be argued that either students or teachers shed their constitutional rights to freedom of speech or expression at the schoolhouse gate. ~ Abe Fortas,
273:One Tree Hill was my very first television audition; it was a fairytale. I feel really lucky to have that level of success right out of the gate. ~ Hilarie Burton,
274:Poetry is the gate through which I enter the land of enchantment. Once inside the flaming wall, my limitations fall from me, and my spirit is free. ~ Helen Keller,
275:Then, together, they passed through the camp gate and marched up the road, toward wives and sweethearts and children and Mom and Dad and home. ~ Laura Hillenbrand,
276:true knowledge of God and of the secret of his wisdom comes from faith, because the obedience of faith opens to us the gate of the Kingdom of Heaven. ~ John Calvin,
277:And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill Where no ill seems. ~ John Milton,
278:By the time we got to MGM, and Lions Gate the movie was done there was nothing else to say. It was done. Just as at Universal, it was art by committee. ~ Rob Zombie,
279:I will go where I will go
And I will jettison all dead weight
And I will use these words for kindling
And I will sleep by the garden gate. ~ John Darnielle,
280:to know how to read is to light a lamp in the mind, to release the soul from prison, to open a gate to the universe." from Pavilion of Women page 292 ~ Pearl S Buck,
281:Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
282:Perseverance is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
283:Sure enough, I find Mósí standing in front of the open gate. She’s sitting primly, legs tucked under, back straight, and hands folded in her lap. ~ Rebecca Roanhorse,
284:They built three new houses on their craggy private island and gave them each a name: Windemere for Penny, Red Gate for Carrie, and Cuddledown for Bess. ~ E Lockhart,
285:They’ve already gone to the gate; they’re waiting for me there.” I felt nervous then so I added, “I said I wouldn’t be long—just getting a coffee. ~ Lucy Christopher,
286:Perserverence is a great element of success. If you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
287:That's why there are ten gates to pass through before you reach the garden. If life were easy there would be one gate. There would be no gates at all. ~ Alice Hoffman,
288:There is clearly a rule at O’Hare that, no matter what flight you come in on, your connecting flight must be at a gate as far away as possible. And, ~ David Rosenfelt,
289:To bed, to bed! There’s a knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What’s done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed! ~ William Shakespeare,
290:HERE AT THE GOLDEN GATE IS THE ETERNAL RAINBOW THAT HE CONCEIVED AND SET TO FORM. A PROMISE INDEED THAT THE RACE OF MAN SHALL ENDURE INTO THE AGES. Like ~ Mark Helprin,
291:Ranger’s gonna hate this,” Tank said. “Better to get shot than to have to explain the gate. Bad enough I got a horse that smells like his shower gel. ~ Janet Evanovich,
292:The lot for the east gate fell to Shelemiah. c They also cast lots for his son Zechariah, an insightful counselor, and his lot came out for the north gate. ~ Anonymous,
293:Io Omega, this is the Fawkes Faux Fox. We’re leaving on a harvesting run. Not going far and won’t be but a few minutes. Open Tartarus Gate, would you? ~ Richard Roberts,
294:She giggled. Giggled. Her cheeks pinked, and goddamn, if this plane didn’t get to the gate and un-board them, he was going to pull the emergency hatch. ~ Cristin Harber,
295:Watch out for pickpockets and gropers now,” Adrana said, as if my words counted for nothing. “We’ll go all the way along, then come out at Cat Gate. ~ Alastair Reynolds,
296:When you come, please be so kind as to check your neuroses and psychoses at the gate... Fans and other obnoxious pests would do well to maintain silence. ~ Henry Miller,
297:Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. ~ H P Lovecraft,
298:It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul. ~ William Ernest Henley,
299:Poems should be like pins which prick the skin of boredom and leave a glow equal in its pride to the gate of the sadist who stuck the pin and walked away ~ Norman Mailer,
300:Self-seeking is the gate by which a soul departs from peace; and total abandonment to the will of God, that by which it returns. ~ Jeanne Marie Bouvier de la Motte Guyon,
301:she said. Mrs. Comstock did not reply. She watched the girl follow the long walk to the gate and go from sight on the road, in the bright sunshine ~ Gene Stratton Porter,
302:The golden gate to peace in life is the experience of bliss, and it is easy for everyone to acquire this great glory and live it throughout life. ~ Maharishi Mahesh Yogi,
303:The success gate is far at the end of the long failure corridor. Keep moving no matter how many potholes you step into. You will get there with time! ~ Israelmore Ayivor,
304:As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison. ~ Nelson Mandela,
305:I guess it was exciting that every time I pulled up to the gate of my house, I wondered if someone was going to jump out of the bush and stab me in the face. ~ Dave Grohl,
306:My Solitude is my Treasure, the best thing I have. I hesitate to go out. If you opened the little gate, I would not hop away—but oh how I sing in my gold cage ~ A S Byatt,
307:Pike’s red Jeep was at the edge of the drive out by the gate. It was as far from the other vehicles as possible. Even Pike’s transportation is anti-social. ~ Robert Crais,
308:A crafty nightrunner died of late,
And found himself at Bilairy’s Gate.
He stood outside and refused to knock
Because he meant to pick the lock. ~ Lynn Flewelling,
309:Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked. “I mean, the last time you opened this gate, you let a killer stroll right in to our world. What if it happens again? ~ Christa Faust,
310:My Solitude is my Treasure, the best thing I have. I hesitate to go out. If you opened the little gate, I would not hop away—but oh how I sing in my gold cage. ~ A S Byatt,
311:A gaol is this immense material world:
Across each road stands armed a stone-eyed Law,
At every gate the huge dim sentinels pace. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Issue,
312:I’d be able to bypass the gate’s security wards without a problem, which was good. I didn’t much feel like being blown up again. Its charm wears off quickly. ~ Tim Marquitz,
313:Maybe. We're all equals at the dark gate, no? The sands run for us all. Life is but a flicker shouting into the jaws of eternity. But it seems so damned unfair! ~ Glen Cook,
314:William Henley put it: It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. ~ Piers Anthony,
315:A new road or a secret gate, And though we pass them by today, Tomorrow we may come this way And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun. ~ Peter Thiel,
316:For instance, he would often gate-crash university parties, get badly drunk and start making fun of any astrophysicists he could find till he got thrown out. ~ Douglas Adams,
317:I've seen attack ships on fire on the shoulder of Orion, I've seen moon beams glisten at the Ten hauser gate, all those memories, lost like tears in the rain. ~ Rutger Hauer,
318:-we wish you-"
"-a tale-"
"-worth telling."
"Not luck?" asked Vikram.
The gate heaved with wet laughter.
"-what good is-"
"-such a thing. ~ Roshani Chokshi,
319:I have come to the conclusion that the major part of the president is to increase the gate receipts of expositions and fairs and bring tourists to town. ~ William Howard Taft,
320:I really just like breaking down the barriers, whether it means doing an album with Linkin Park, an album with R. Kelly, or playing at the Brandenburg Gate with Bono. ~ Jay Z,
321:I sometimes think that writing is like driving a sheep down the road. If there's any gate open to the left or the right the reader will most certainly go into it. ~ C S Lewis,
322:Life with her wine-cup of longing under the purple of her tenture,
Death as her gate of escape and rebirth and renewal of venture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems, Ahana,
323:Moom' and 'tomb' actually rhyme, which is something Dickinson hardly ever did, preferring near-rhymes such as 'mat/gate', 'tune/sun,' and 'balm/hermaphrodite. ~ Connie Willis,
324:In writing a little tragedy, 'The Gaol Gate,' I made the scenario in three lines, 'He is an informer; he is dead; he is hanged.' I wrote that play very quickly. ~ Lady Gregory,
325:...she deferred to her partner, to the virtuoso hands of Gwen Shanks, freaky-big, fluid as a couple of tide-pool dwellers, cabled like the Golden Gate Bridge. ~ Michael Chabon,
326:The more I looked at her breasts, the more unusually large they seemed. She must have been strapped into a brassiere with cables from the Golden Gate Bridge. ~ Haruki Murakami,
327:Compassion makes no distinction between friends and enemies, neighbors and outsiders, compatriots and foreigners. Compassion is the gate to human community. ~ Joan D Chittister,
328:Death opens the gate of fame, and shuts the gate of envy after it; it unlooses the chain of the captive, and puts the bondsman's task into another man's hand. ~ Laurence Sterne,
329:He that will enter in must first without Stand knocking at the Gate, nor need he doubt That is A KNOCKER but to enter in; For God can love him, and forgive his sin. ~ Anonymous,
330:This is poetry. You’re writing about Heaven’s Gate and the Caribou Herd, but what comes across is loneliness, displacement, angst, and a cynical look at humanity. ~ Dan Simmons,
331:A referendum magnifies the worst aspects of an already imperfect system—democracy—channeling a dazzlingly wide variety of issues through a very narrow gate. It has ~ Zadie Smith,
332:And the charming little cottage he'd taken as a symbol of the good life of a farmer was as irrelevant as a statue of Venus at the gate of a sewage-disposal plant. ~ Kurt Vonnegut,
333:And the shitty jobs made the good ones more meaningful. Most people don't land their dream job right out of the gate, which means we all have to start somewhere. ~ Sophia Amoruso,
334:She didn’t really know the speech of Beedles and so she made it as simple as she could: “I am Death,” she said. “Now, which one of us is going to open the gate? ~ Neal Stephenson,
335:They got an apartment in the Sunset District facing the Pacific, just south of Golden Gate Park, and he took a job working for a finance company as a “repo man, ~ Walter Isaacson,
336:Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH. ~ Jack Kerouac,
337:All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate. ~ John Masefield,
338:Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. ~ Omar Khayyam,
339:Ah, life is a gate, a way, a path to Paradise anyway, why not live for fun and joy and love or some sort of girl by a fireside, why not go to your desire and LAUGH... ~ Jack Kerouac,
340:Sometimes I feel like I’m actually on the wrong planet. It’s great when I’m in my garden, but the minute I go out the gate I think, ‘What the hell am I doing here? ~ George Harrison,
341:This night the password was silence, and the soldier at the gate responded with silence to Cincinnatus’ silence and let him pass; likewise at all the other gates. ~ Vladimir Nabokov,
342:You know... the only person I really had to please after a point was the MPAA. Because Lions' Gate was like, hey, whatever you can get away with is fine, we don't care. ~ Rob Zombie,
343:If this was what Mikhail called opening the gate close to Zayvion’s body, I was going to kill a compass and a slide rule and send them through the gates of death to him. ~ Devon Monk,
344:Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love And sing them loud even in the dead of night. ~ William Shakespeare,
345:My empire is corrupt, and there are enemies at the gate.
Fuck that. My gate has been breached, my territory invaded.
My woman seized.
And now, I will go to war. ~ Tara Leigh,
346:Pissed at the arrogance of angels, at the rain, at the whole fucking universe, she strode out without a backward look. Venom was at the gate. Damn man looked good wet. ~ Nalini Singh,
347:There’s a sweet promise to giving up, but realizing that demands a journey. One of spirit. You can’t walk to Hood’s Gate, you find it before you when the fog clears. ~ Steven Erikson,
348:Also He brought me by way of the north gate to the front of the temple; so I looked, and behold, the glory of the LORD filled the house of the LORD; and I fell on my face. ~ Anonymous,
349:And then she grew uneasy and full of gloom and thought to herself that if the child were joy yet was it a new gate for sorrow to enter by, too, and so is every child... ~ Pearl S Buck,
350:In November, at winter's gate, the stars are brittle. The sun is a sometime friend. And the world has tucked her children in, with a kiss on their heads, till spring. ~ Cynthia Rylant,
351:The battle of "Christian" with "Apollyon" lasted three hours—but Christian's battle with himself lasted all the way from the Wicket Gate in the river Jordan. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
352:Do you like Magda too?” His gaze left the gate to sweep the courtyard. “She seems pleasant enough when she’s not drugged. But then she nearly always is, isn’t she?” He ~ Dorothy Gilman,
353:I always say there's no ticket of admission for active citizenship. Anybody can get through that gate, and anybody can ask that basic question that gets the ball rolling. ~ Ralph Nader,
354:If a movie isn't a hit right out of the gate, they drop it. Which means that the whole mainstream Hollywood product has been skewed toward violence and vulgar teen comedy. ~ Roger Ebert,
355:As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. —NELSON MANDELA ~ Iyanla Vanzant,
356:When you're in a relationship with someone you have to be in control of that relationship and you have to be as open as you can about everything, straight up, out the gate. ~ Nate Parker,
357:Will looking after her, sighed.not for her, he said under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, for me.... And he leaned his head against the cold iron gate. ~ Cassandra Clare,
358:I chide society, I embrace solitude, and yet I am not so ungrateful as not to see the wise, the lovely, and the noble-minded, as from time to time they pass my gate. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
359:It is desirable that a man live in all respects so simply and preparedly that if an enemy take the town... he can walk out the gate empty-handed and without anxiety. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
360:Kavita’s arms are still outstretched, but they hold nothing. After the metal gate clangs shut behind them, Kavita can still hear Usha’s piercing wail echoing inside. ~ Shilpi Somaya Gowda,
361:(Emily frowned, then turned about in her saddle to scan the inner bailey.)
Milady? What do you seek? (Simon)
A marker announcing this as the gate to Hades. (Emily) ~ Kinley MacGregor,
362:For everyone and everything, there is a time to die. Some do not know it, or would delay it, but its truth cannot be denied. Not when you look into the stars of the ninth gate. ~ Garth Nix,
363:It was as if he had passed through a gate of fear and had realised to his surprise that behind it lay not a gaping chasm, but other doors, bright hallways and inviting rooms. ~ Nina George,
364:Clearly, if wed had the kind of computer graphics capability then that we have now, the Star Gate sequence would be much more complex than flat planes of light and color. ~ Douglas Trumbull,
365:Errors per qubit per quantum gate can be handled more efficiently by machine learning techniques. For quantum error correction deep learning algorithms provides greater promises. ~ Amit Ray,
366:O Thou, Far off and here, whole and broken, Who in necessity and in bounty wait, Whose truth is light and dark, mute though spoken, By Thy wide grace show me Thy narrow gate. ~ Wendell Berry,
367:That day, the sight of our front gate was pure relief to me. All I wanted to do was get inside, change into comfy clothes, and maybe not answer the phone ever again. ~ Hillary Rodham Clinton,
368:As she closed the gate behind her she noticed her own name on one of the big envelopes. Turning it over, she saw written on the back: Course in Philosophy. Handle with care. ~ Jostein Gaarder,
369:It is only through the morning gate of the beautiful that you can penetrate into the realm of knowledge. That which we feel here as beauty we shall one day know as truth. ~ Friedrich Schiller,
370:Make me a willow cabin at your gate,
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night. ~ William Shakespeare,
371:He’d decided the best way to approach Dave DeCosta’s mother, Linda, was to knock on the front gate and charm them with his disarming smile. Too bad a man had answered the gate. ~ Kendra Elliot,
372:Go through the gate. Let our love support you through your own self-judgment. Over you the dark shall have no power. Farewell—we release you into the Lady’s waiting arms. . . . ~ Diana L Paxson,
373:humanity is the gatekeeper through which evil passes into the world. In this metaphor, the Fall becomes the failure of the gatekeeper to maintain proper control of the gate. ~ William A Dembski,
374:that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
375:Fog is somewhere under the Golden Gate Bridge waiting to eat us all, but it’s staying there, invisible, for the time being, waiting for the right hour to cover and consume us. ~ Logan Ryan Smith,
376:And you're the one who thought it was too risky to go through a gate."
"That's why we're such a great team," said Eric, "We're both completely stupid about different things. ~ Orson Scott Card,
377:to speak, as Leopold’s officials did, of forced laborers as libérés, or “liberated men,” was to use language as perverted as that above the gate at Auschwitz, Arbeit Macht Frei. ~ Adam Hochschild,
378:For to enter the palace of learning at the great gate requires an expense of time and forms, therefore men of much haste and little ceremony are content to get in by the back-door ~ Jonathan Swift,
379:Teams steeped in traditional product development methods are trained to make go/kill decisions on a regular basis. That is the essence of the waterfall or stage-gate development model. ~ Eric Ries,
380:Children make prayers so thoughtlessly, building them up like sand castles—and they are always surprised when suddenly the castle becomes real, and the iron gate grinds shut. ~ Catherynne M Valente,
381:For to enter the palace of learning at the great gate requires an expense of time and forms, therefore men of much haste and little ceremony are content to get in by the back-door. ~ Jonathan Swift,
382:I'll bury you alive by her garden gate. I'll enjoy it. Every time she goes out in the morning, every time she comes home, she'll walk on your grave, and she'll know she's safe. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan,
383:Isabelle had always simply reacted in her life. Someone left her behind; she followed. Someone told her she couldn't do something; she did it. Every barrier she turned into a gate. ~ Kristin Hannah,
384:Taha walked out of the main gate of the building to find there were no children playing in the street. He walked slowly and aimlessly on the sidewalk under dusty green trees. He was ~ Zakaria Tamer,
385:To decent Avernus is easy;
the gate of Pluto stands
open night and day; but to
retrace onesʼs steps and
return to the upper air, that
is the toil, that is the
difficulty. ~ Virgil,
386:arriving at a mansion with another gate, low and nearly invisible inside its landscape gardening, seeming so much constructed of night itself that at sunrise it might all disappear. ~ Thomas Pynchon,
387:Hell and heaven are within you, both gates are within you. When you are behaving unconsciously there is the gate of hell; when you become alert and conscious, there is the gate of heaven. ~ Rajneesh,
388:The free will of the door, as it were. All doors opened in both directions. She could not open the gate of herself a crack and peek out, and expect to still hold the fortress. ~ Lois McMaster Bujold,
389:There were a few things she did know for sure, though. There was no way the pony was going back in the gate. Not when the pony was thirty-four and really liked pulling the milk cart. ~ Rachel Gibson,
390:Let the enemy rage at the gate; let him knock, pound, scream, howl; let him do his worst. We know for certain that he cannot enter our soul except by the door of our consent. ~ Saint Francis de Sales,
391:My role is the shepherd's role. The shepherd is the one who opens the gate and allows the flock to go through and whoever opens the gate has to close it, and the gate is not yet closed. ~ Jimmy Cliff,
392:The Golden Gate was a nice bridge if you were a tourist or a rich retiree living out in wine country, but it was mostly ornamental. The Bay Bridge is—was—San Francisco’s workhorse bridge. ~ Anonymous,
393:Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can. ~ Anonymous,
394:James and I had eight years together, but in many ways we hadn’t even made it out of the gate, like a racehorse that gets spooked by the sound of the gun. So many things had held us back. ~ Liz Fenton,
395:she had stood at the gate of her compound and told the Japanese soldiers there that if they tried to come in and get her girls, they would have to do it across her dead body. This ~ Katherine Paterson,
396:Surrounded by alpha males that know more magic than all the teachers at Hogwarts, I’m about to ask who’s going to do what to get us through the gate, when it becomes a moot point. ~ Karen Marie Moning,
397:the Scriptures are adamant, even relentless, in their striving to convince us that the evidence of having passed through the gate is that we have become pilgrims on the narrow way. ~ Paul David Washer,
398:There is, in every man, an animal...imprisoned, like a galley slave, and there is a gate, and if we open the gate, the animal will rush out, like the slave finding his way to escape. ~ Georges Bataille,
399:The wide earth may harbor vicious affairs,     But high Heaven will a good man vindicate.     Footloose they’re safe on Tathāgata’s way,     Certain to reach Mount Spirit’s paradise gate. ~ Wu Cheng en,
400:I realize that the books I love most are like open cities, with all sorts of ways to wander in. This thing is a fortress with no front gate. You’re meant to scale the walls, stone by stone. ~ Robin Sloan,
401:No man is excluded from calling upon God, the gate of salvation is set open unto all men: neither is there any other thing which keepeth us back from entering in, save only our own unbelief. ~ John Calvin,
402:One of the pleasures of dealing with intelligent men, Lin Fong decided, watching seven people ride out the eastern gate in early-morning sunlight, was how much did not have to be spoken. ~ Guy Gavriel Kay,
403:poster of San Francisco. The image of the Golden Gate Bridge with Alcatraz off in the distance was one of her favorites. If she could visit one place in the world, that’s where she would go. ~ Marie Force,
404:Unnumbered suppliants crowd Preferment's gate
Athirst for wealth, and burning to be great;
Delusive Fortune hears th' incessant call,
They mount, they shine, evaporate, and fall. ~ Samuel Johnson,
405:It is written on the gate of heaven: Nothing in existence is more powerful than destiny. And destiny brought you here, to this page, which is part of your ticket-as all things are-to return to God. ~ Hafez,
406:Perché non rilassarsi un po'? Magari una passeggiata in macchina fino al Golden Gate Park, con lo zoo e i pesci? Fare una visita dove le cose che non possono pensare provano comunque gioia. ~ Philip K Dick,
407:Sir, I’m afraid that the quality of this airline is partly measured by on-time departures. And unfortunately, on-time departures are measured by when we left the gate, not by wheels-up. ~ Marcus Buckingham,
408:The Atheist waits for proof of God. Till that proof comes he remains, as his name implies, without God. His mind is open to every new truth, after it has passed the warder Reason at the gate. ~ Annie Besant,
409:There was no last animal I treated. When young farm lads started to help me over the gate into a field or a pigpen, to make sure the old fellow wouldn't fall, I started to consider retiring. ~ James Herriot,
410:When I go to the Gate, I'll play a duet with Gabriel. Yeah, we'll play 'Sleepy Time Down South' and 'Hello, Dolly!.' Then he can blow a couple that he's been playing up there all the time. ~ Louis Armstrong,
411:If you want to be religious, enter not the gate of any organised religions. They do a hundred times more evil than good, because they stop the growth of each one’s individual development. ~ Swami Vivekananda,
412:One immutable law of travel is that one’s arrival or departure gate is always at the extreme outer limit of the terminal, especially if your bag is heavy or your shoes have just begun to pinch. ~ Sue Grafton,
413:Probably they had good reason for omitting it. A profane mind might make a jest of an apostle half seas over, and ridicule an apostolic gate-keeper who couldn't keep his head above water. ~ Charles Bradlaugh,
414:I won’t tell you how I managed to break in, since I don’t want the authorities figuring out, but let’s just say that if you’re going to make a gate, make sure it reaches all the way to the ground. ~ Meg Cabot,
415:the shape, tossed and bent under the wind, lifted the latch of the gate, and they could see that it belonged to a woman, who was holding her hat on with one hand and carrying a bag in the other. ~ P L Travers,
416:This is the ultimate end of man, to find the One which is in him; which is his truth, which is his soul; the key with which he opens the gate of the spiritual life, the heavenly kingdom. ~ Rabindranath Tagore,
417:She stood up and her knees wobbled as she walked toward the garden gate. On top of everything else that had gone wrong in her life, she now had to deal with her father succumbing to dementia. ~ Phaedra Patrick,
418:Each of us has a door to walk through, maybe a thousand, and if we don’t walk through them, we aren’t alive. We aren’t human until we walk through that gate regardless of what’s on the other side. ~ S G Redling,
419:Every couple of years we'll watch the movie and it's like watching home movies, seeing the ranch on-screen. But that movie Heaven's Gate, people are appreciating it more and more as time goes on. ~ Jeff Bridges,
420:Humor, for me, is really a gate of departure. Its a way of enticing a reader into a poem so that less funny things can take place later. It really is not an end in itself, but a means to an end. ~ Billy Collins,
421:Once a man is truly dead and carried pale and cold across the Styx--once Old Bones has put an arm about his shoulders and walked him through the Gate into Darkness--might Science yet summon him back? ~ Ian Weir,
422:There’s a gate?” I ask, confused. “Why do we always climb the fence?”
He shoots me a sly grin. “You were in a dress the two times we’ve been here. Where’s the fun in walking through a gate? ~ Colleen Hoover,
423:Without opening the gate, and keeping one hand near the elevator buttons, Seth shone the flashlight around the room. The last thing he wanted was to get cornered by zombies inside of an elevator. ~ Brandon Mull,
424:No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by argument or by emotional appeal. ~ Stephen R Covey,
425:Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate, And though we pass them by today, Tomorrow we may come this way And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun. ~ Peter Thiel,
426:Blew up? How?’ ‘We dropped a shielded runcible gate into it while the gate at the other end was moved into position before a stream of near-light-speed asteroids flung out from a spinning black hole. ~ Neal Asher,
427:cycling down the road. Her movements were erratic, almost out of control, pedaling at alarming speed as though she were being chased. As she passed the gate, I caught sight of her face. She’d been ~ Tom Rob Smith,
428:She said despairingly: ‘I see that I might as well address myself to a gate-post!’
‘What very odd things you seem to talk to!’ he remarked. ‘Do you find gate-posts less responsive than eels? ~ Georgette Heyer,
429:I nod up at the sky above us swirling with the ghosts of the witches. “Lord thundering fuck, what is that?” “Your prior victims, I would imagine. I’ve freed the witches.” He looks at the gate under me ~ Tara Brown,
430:No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by agreement or by emotional appeal. ~ Marilyn Ferguson,
431:It was amazing how Mrs. Warmer always seemed to know when a car stopped at the gate. It was not that she wasted time gazing out of the windows, for she got through more work than two ordinary women. ~ D E Stevenson,
432:Then she lowered her arm and the gate closed behind her. That arm suddenly falling and the metallic clank of the gate shutting made me understand that from one moment to another one can lose heart. ~ Patrick Modiano,
433:Which gate to enter? Which path to choose? Which stairs to take? Which direction to go? These questions can be very depressive! And sometimes the solution lies in being bold, in being imprudent! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
434:But why, she thought wryly, did a man seem more attractive as he became less available? How humbling to think one had so much in common with a cow stretching its neck through a gate for better grass. ~ Mary Jo Putney,
435:The Golden Gate Bridge was a tall orange suspension bridge that connected the city of Don Francisco to the Marin Headlands on the other side. It had been built millennia ago by some ancient civilization, ~ Alan Gratz,
436:What happens to what's happened?" she asked the bishop.
"It's there. Waiting."
"But the time gate's closed, isn't it?"
"Yes. But that can't take away what we've had. The good and the bad. ~ Madeleine L Engle,
437:When the stormtroopers parted, Hera saw Gord crawling back toward Moonglow’s gate. She blinked away a tear of anger. Yes, she needed to see these things, to remind her what she was fighting for. ~ John Jackson Miller,
438:Every phenomenon on earth is symbolic, and each symbol is an open gate through which the soul, if it is ready, can enter into the inner part of the world, where you and I and day and night are all one. ~ Hermann Hesse,
439:Above all, believe it, the sweetest canticle is Nunc dimittis, when a man hath obtained worthy ends and expectations. Death hath this also, that it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth envy. ~ Francis Bacon,
440:Religious life has to become an expression of the gifts of the person. (You don't) simply throw away your personality, your giftedness and leave everything at the gate and go in and expect to find Jesus. ~ Dolores Hart,
441:My pen is the key to a fantastic bordello, and once the gate is opened, it ejaculates a bloody ink. The virgin paper set to shriek evokes worlds heretofore unknown: eruptive, incorruptible, suffocating. ~ Rikki Ducornet,
442:The light of San Francisco
is a sea light
an island light
And the light of fog
blanketing the hills
drifting in at night
through the Golden Gate
to lie on the city at dawn... ~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti,
443:There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun. ~ Patricia A McKillip,
444:Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. ~ Khalil Gibran,
445:as well as depressing, but each day I feel like I’m making a small difference. We walked a kid out of prison last week. His parents were waiting by the gate, and everyone was in tears, including me. FYI—one ~ John Grisham,
446:He knew why he and the other children received ice cream only when newspaper photographers came to visit, and why food and clothing donated for the children got furtively resold outside the orphanage gate. ~ Katherine Boo,
447:Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate And though I oft have passed them by A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun. ~ J R R Tolkien,
448:The man that seeks the everlasting prize; It shows you whence he comes, wither he goes. What he leaves undone; also what he does. It also shows you how he runs and runs. Till he unto the gate of glory comes. ~ John Bunyan,
449:Then may Death send his worst. Cold to freeze the love in my heart. Fire to burn my memories to ash. Wind to force me through the gates. Time to wear my loyalty away. I'll wait for you at Death's gate. ~ Kristen Ciccarelli,
450:When George was a kid he used to follow me and my first girlfriend, Cynthia—who became my wife—around. We’d come out of art school, and he’d be hovering around like those kids at the gate of the Dakota now. ~ Rob Sheffield,
451:A loud booming noise interrupted us, and we saw a flash of light off to my right. People near the other garages screamed. "There, you see?" asked Abe, quite pleased with himself. "A new gate. Perfect timing. ~ Richelle Mead,
452:Every phenomenon on earth is symbolic, and each symbol is an open gate through which the soul, if it is ready, can enter into the inner part of the world, where you and I and day and night are all one. Every ~ Hermann Hesse,
453:Maybe those campers were into something strange,” Maria mused. “Did you see any Ouija boards or salt circles? Any summoning Cthulhu with a pop-up gate to hell? I hear the Dark Lord loves toasted marshmallows. ~ Laura Bickle,
454:My heart is your student,
it studies love,

And, like the night,
waits at the gate of dawn.

Where I go,
I follow where love's face leads.

Because oil flows
to the flame that it feeds. ~ Rumi,
455:There is something ominous about a swift river, and something thrilling about a river of any kind. The nearest upstream bend is a gate out of mystery, the nearest downstream bend a door to further mystery. ~ Wallace Stegner,
456:A gate has open.
A portal has been awaken.
Arisen from gray ash.
A beast is out.
This one has large wings and sharp feet.
Its heart is soft as flowers,
It runs fast and doesn't look back. ~ Sahndra Fon Dufe,
457:I hadn't talked to him in many, many years. He got a bad rap on "Heaven's Gate." I actually live in the hog ranch from "Heaven's Gate" in Montana. Mike Cimino gave me that set, the whorehouse, that's my house. ~ Jeff Bridges,
458:Most of us know that our heart is our center, not our head. But apologetics gets at the heart through the head. The head is important precisely because it is a gate to the heart. We can love only what we know. ~ Peter Kreeft,
459:Death is like getting a ride to the airport. Sure, someone can escort you to the curb, but it’s against the law/laws of nature for your ride to see you all the way through to the departure gate/pearly gates. The ~ Jen Kirkman,
460:gate, I went up the avenue alone. I knocked gently and rang as quietly as possible, for I feared to disturb Lucy or her mother, and hoped to only bring a servant to the door. After a while, finding no response, I ~ Bram Stoker,
461:To confess your sins to God is not to tell God anything God doesn't already know. Until you confess them, however, they are the abyss between you. When you confess them, they become the Golden Gate Bridge. ~ Frederick Buechner,
462:I am glad to recollect that when the carrier's cart was at the gate, and my mother stood there kissing me, a grateful fondness for her and for the old place I had never turned my back upon before, made me cry. ~ Charles Dickens,
463:I have the True Dharma Eye, the Marvelous Mind of Nirvana, the True Form of the Formless, and the Subtle Dharma Gate, independent of words and transmitted beyond doctrine. This I have entrusted to Mahakashyapa. ~ Gautama Buddha,
464:In one gourd
Longing vaster than the heavens
In one gourd
Waiting longer than night
On top of the gate
On top of the roof
A lantern is lit

A woman dressed and ready eagerly awaits her love. ~ Kim Dong Hwa,
465:A loud booming noise interrupted us, and we saw a flash of light off to my right. People near the other garages screamed.

"There, you see?" asked Abe, quite pleased with himself. "A new gate. Perfect timing. ~ Richelle Mead,
466:caughtoutedness. Some examples: People jumping out of alleys. Schoolteachers suddenly being aware of every sin you’ve ever committed. Police showing up at the door each time a leaf turns or a distant gate slams shut. ~ Markus Zusak,
467:Ever desireless, one can see the mystery. Ever desiring, one can see the manifestations. These two spring from the same source but differ in name; this appears as darkness. Darkness within darkness. The gate to all mystery. ~ Laozi,
468:I left her there crying as I walked toward the gate. A piece of my soul had died when Dimitri had fallen. Turning my back on her now, I felt another piece die as well. Soon there wouldn't be anything left inside me. ~ Richelle Mead,
469:In the depths of your hopes and desires, lies your silent knowledge of the beyond, and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. ~ Khalil Gibran,
470:There's a gate in our heads, too-that's what I think. One that keeps the insanity in all of us from flooding our intellects. And at critical moments, it swings open and all kinds of weird shit comes flooding through. ~ Stephen King,
471:You cannot escape pain through the gate of rational thought, for the gatekeeper of reason is not a gullible fellow. But the gatekeeper of the imagination is a trusting fool, and easily distracted by flights of fancy. ~ Joseph Duncan,
472:What I like about fairy tales is the language and the matter-of-fact way of introducing magic, where it's accepted that a fox could talk or a gate could just appear in a wall. I think fairy tales are so psychological. ~ Alice Hoffman,
473:Not till your thoughts cease all their branching here and there, not till you abandon all thoughts of seeking for something, not till your mind is motionless as wood or stone, will you be on the right road to the Gate. ~ Huangbo Xiyun,
474:When the members of the “Heaven’s Gate” cult failed to spot the spacecraft they knew must be trailing the comet Hale-Bopp, they returned the $4,000 telescope they had bought for this purpose, believing it to be defective. ~ Sam Harris,
475:Promiscuous reading is necessary to the constituting of human nature. The attempt to keep out evil doctrine by licensing is like the exploit of that gallant man who thought to keep out the crows by shutting the park gate. ~ John Milton,
476:A dream of springtide When the streets Are scattering Cherry blossoms. Tidings of autumn When the streets Are lined with lighted lanterns On both sides. Koji Ochi (seventeenth-century poet), inscribed on the Great Gate of ~ Lesley Downer,
477:Just last week, gunmen on a motorcycle shot and killed two tourism police officers near the gate of the complex that contains the pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx, across the Nile from Cairo and about 400 miles north of Luxor. ~ Anonymous,
478:Sex was like the wooden horse of Troy, he decided. How uncomplicated a gift it seemed at first, but once you had let it through the gate how many unexpected dangers might be found to have stowed themselves away inside. ~ Anthony McDonald,
479:English version by Eiichi Shimomisei
The Great Way has no gate,
A thousand roads enter it.
When one passes through this gateless gate,
He freely walks between heaven and earth.
~ Wumen Huikai, The Great Way has no gate
,
480:I wish, when I was back in that French class, that I had connected the conjugations, verbs, and gendered nouns to something grander. I wish someone had told me what that class really was—a gate to some other blue world. ~ Ta Nehisi Coates,
481:We must never forget why we have, and why we need our military. Our armed forces exist solely to ensure our nation is safe, so that each and every one of us can sleep soundly at night, knowing we have 'guardians at the gate.' ~ Allen West,
482:Marilyn Ferguson observed, “No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by argument or by emotional appeal. ~ Stephen R Covey,
483:My path is full of petals–I have swept it for no others.
My thatch gate has been closed–but opens now for you.
It’s a long way to the market, I can offer you little–
Yet here in my cottage there is old wine for our cups. ~ Du Fu,
484:Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate
And though I oft have passed them by
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun. ~ J R R Tolkien,
485:The porter, meanwhile, unfastened the hatch in the wicket gate and peered out.
“Who dost knock without?” he growled.
The soldier, drenched and terrified though he was, hesitated.
“Without? Without what?” he said. ~ Terry Pratchett,
486:Three hand-painted signs had been tacked to a broken-down gate. The first read,
THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD
The second,
PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE
The third,
KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS ~ J K Rowling,
487:13 “Enter through the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who go through it. 14 How narrow is the gate and difficult the road that leads to life, and few find it. ~ Anonymous,
488:Death and his scythe do not come. No sweeping black capes or ethereal escapes. There’s no pearly gate, no prisms of colors as his soul slips away. The stillness is cold steel. The silence is empty with no memory to mend it. ~ Laura Kreitzer,
489: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,
490:We knock a time or two at the gate of mercy, and as no friendly messenger opens the door, we go our ways. Too many prayers are like boys’ runaway knocks, given, and then the giver is away before the door can be opened. ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
491:by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy [1] that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. 14For the gate is narrow and  h the way is hard that leads to life, and  i those who find it are few. ~ Anonymous,
492:Dr. Lecter, erect as a dancer and carrying Starling in his arms, came out from behind the gate, walked barefoot out of the barn, through the pigs. Dr. Lecter walked through the sea of tossing backs and bloodspray in the barn. ~ Thomas Harris,
493:The writer is neither saint nor tzaddik nor prophet standing at the gate; he's just another sinner who has a somewhat sharper awareness and uses slightly more precise language to describe the inconceivable reality of our world. ~ Etgar Keret,
494:when she packed up and moved to the family villa in Barbados. His father had accused her of having a midlife crisis when it was him at fault. At the end of a stony track, a wooden gate stood open. A snow-topped sign that read ~ Ruth Cardello,
495:Women are like lionesses at the gate of the home. Whatever happens in that home and family happens because she cares about it and it matters to her. She guards that gate, and things matter to that family if they matter to her. ~ Julie B Beck,
496:as Marilyn Ferguson observed, “No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by argument or by emotional appeal. ~ Stephen R Covey,
497:Her words shift within her like nervous birds. They long to go winging, and one loud noise will send the whole flock exploding outward, past the paltry gate of her tongue, into the world from whence they cannot be reclaimed. ~ Anjali Sachdeva,
498:He plucked at a long rose cane that attempted to grab his sleeve as he passed through the gate. “Good morning, my lady. May I give you my arm up the street? I’m engaged to escort this rosebush to the shops, but I’ll fob it off. ~ Laura Kinsale,
499:The familiar
people and things had failed her so she hung over the gate
and looked up the road towards way off. She knew now that
marriage did not make love. Janie’s first dream was dead, so
she became a woman. ~ Zora Neale Hurston,
500:13“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy [1] that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. 14For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few. ~ Anonymous,
501:As Ummon and the other Masters teach, it explains why the giraffe evolved a long neck but never why the other animals did not. It explains why humankind evolved to intelligence, but not why the tree near the front gate refused to. ~ Dan Simmons,
502:THE BALLAD OF READING GOAL: The vilest deeds, like poison weeds,      Bloom well in prison air; It is only what is good in Man      That wastes and withers there. Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,      And the Warder is Despair. ~ Emma Goldman,
503:Turning the pages of this encoded codex, I realize that the books I love most are like open cities, with all sorts of ways to wander in. This thing is a fortress with no front gate. You're meant to scale the walls, stone by stone. ~ Robin Sloan,
504:What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl–because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back. ~ Mia Sheridan,
505:I want to see this lady out the front gate and into her car and off the street and out of town and then removed from the county and then the whole state and finally relocated to the place they call Tornado Alley in Kansas. ~ Holly Goldberg Sloan,
506:You come out of the gate, you've got something new, you're subversive, nobody's ever done it before. But by your fifth novel and your fourth literary prize and your house in the country, can you really claim to be subversive? ~ Daniel Mendelsohn,
507:General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall! ~ Ronald Reagan,
508:It is only through your conscious mind that you can reach the subconscious. Your conscious mind is the porter at the door, the watchman at the gate. It is to the conscious mind that the subconscious looks for all its impressions. ~ Robert Collier,
509:She died--this was the way she died; And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side. ~ Emily Dickinson,
510:The city gate opened when she and Harper reached the causeway. Her mind barely registered the new walls and the number of soldiers lining the ramparts who were cheering them. Oh, don’t, she wanted to tell them. We have lost so much. ~ Carla Kelly,
511:As long as I can remember I have been carelessly casting myself uninvited into novels where no self-respecting novelist would have me. This literary gate-crashing of mine must be a sign of a wretched thirsting after immortality. ~ Guy Vanderhaeghe,
512:Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy [1] that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. 14For the gate is narrow and  h the way is hard that leads to life, and  i those who find it are few. ~ Anonymous,
513:feel on my skin and within my mind. Sometimes being psychic like my mom really sucked. I wrapped my fingers around my keys and hit the automatic opener. As the old metal gate began to grind and screech its way to one side, I couldn’t ~ Keri Arthur,
514:If we want to get into the city of Salvation, if we want to get into the presence of God, if we want to come into the enjoyment of all God’s provision and protection and blessings for His people, we enter through the gate of Praise. ~ Derek Prince,
515:One consolation however remained for them, to which the exigence of the moment gave more than usual propriety; it was that of running with all possible speed down the steep side of the hill which led immediately to their garden gate. ~ Jane Austen,
516:The majority of people who are stopped and frisked in New York are black or Latino because these demographics fit our cultural profile of danger. These are the supposed barbarians at the gate, not the boy with the “soulful brown eyes. ~ Roxane Gay,
517:If we try to engineer outcomes, if we overturn tradition to make everyone the same, we ruin society. If we upset tradition to allow for an equal shot at the starting gate, everyone wins, except for the charlatans and would be dictators. ~ Ben Stein,
518:I'm on the faculty. I teach. And it's not easy for a poor person to enter the campus to track down the professor in the campus in a Bangladesh situation. They all will be stopped at the gate. You have no business in the university! ~ Muhammad Yunus,
519:My guess is that most Australians today would vote for Babe. A piglet who dreams of being a statesmanlike sheepdog. Who merely by asking politely, can lead the electorate two by two through the gate where the grass is always greener. ~ Wendy Harmer,
520:the gate really is inside each of us. Each of us has a door to walk through, maybe a thousand, and if we don’t walk through them, we aren’t alive. We aren’t human until we walk through that gate regardless of what’s on the other side. ~ S G Redling,
521:Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. 14For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it. ~ Anonymous,
522:This was it; the Mystery of The Unseen, the Gate of Sorrow, that leads to the Grace of the Redeemer. I pressed my lips together, and my hands gripped the windowsill. I saw the hand of Fatima, and all the visible world sank away from me. ~ Kurban Said,
523:Kahlil Gibran, the spiritual Lebanese poet, once advised that “if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. ~ Wayne W Dyer,
524:No. I told you before, I don't even remember coming through the gate. I woke up in thecemetery, my poor wing snapped, my leg broken, beaten like an orphan kid in regency England. I was a pitiful wee creature."

"Um, okay.  ~ Jennifer L Armentrout,
525:Whatever your gravity is when you get to the door, remember―the enemy's gate is down.
If you step through your own door like you're out for a stroll, you're a big target and you deserve to get hit. With more than a flasher. ~ Orson Scott Card,
526:13 g “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy [1] that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. 14For the gate is narrow and  h the way is hard that leads to life, and  i those who find it are few. ~ Anonymous,
527:Even as it clouds our corporeal vision, intoxication clarifies our spiritual vision. The mind, set free from the heavy bondage of the body, flees away like a prisoner whose guard has fallen asleep, leaving the keys at the prison gate. ~ G rard de Nerval,
528:Thou warden of the western gate, above Manhattan Bay, The fogs of doubt that hid thy face are driven clean away: Thine eyes at last look far and clear, thou liftest high thy hand To spread the light of liberty world-wide for every land. ~ Henry Van Dyke,
529:As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her. ~ David Nicholls,
530:I have a one-legged friend and I asked her what they said to John at the gate. She said she reckoned they said, “The lame shall enter first.” This may be because the lame will be able to knock everybody else aside with their crutches. ~ Flannery O Connor,
531:Papa," Alessandro said, his eyes closing. "She swims nude in the sea. She carries a pistol. And she wears perfume that makes me dizzy. Sometimes I go to the garden gate and smell the handle, because, when she touches it, the perfume stays. ~ Mark Helprin,
532:That is the only way to understand rightly this picture of the false prophets. The false prophet is a man who has no `strait gate' or `narrow way' in his gospel. He has nothing which is offensive to the natural man; he pleases all. ~ D Martyn Lloyd Jones,
533:The hardest thing to find in life is balance - especially the more success you have, the more you look to the other side of the gate. What do I need to stay grounded, in touch, in love, connected, emotionally balanced? Look within yourself. ~ Celine Dion,
534:Are you ready ?" she asked, spinning the chamber.
Kell gazed through the gate at the waiting castle. "No."
At that, she offered him the sharpest edge of a grin.
"Good," she said. "The ones who think they're ready always end up dead. ~ V E Schwab,
535:"If for instance one doesn't happen to recall, when considering whether to paint the garden gate green or white, that green is the colour of life and hope, the symbolic aspect of 'green' is nevertheless present as an unconscious sous-entendu." ~ Carl Jung,
536:It is the part of courage, when misfortune comes, to bear without repining the ruin of our hopes, to turn away our thoughts from vain regrets. This degree of submission to Power is not only just and right: it is the very gate of wisdom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
537:The gem, which he had supposed colorless, caught a ray of sunlight from the god-gate in the roof and flashed a watery green. For some reason, it reminded him of her eyes. He put it to his lips, his thoughts full of things that could never be. ~ Gene Wolfe,
538:Watcher of the Gate, let us die and die again, the little deaths that mean growth and change. Let the parts of us that need to die go, and the parts that need to live stay. May we pass through your doorway in glory when the last dying comes! ~ Sandy Nathan,
539:Liebig himself seems to have occupied the role of a gate, or sorting-demon, such as his younger contemporary Clerk Maxwell once proposed, helping to concentrate energy into one favored room of the Creation at the expense of everything else. ~ Thomas Pynchon,
540:Nothing Elegant
Gertrude Stein, 1874 - 1946

A charm a single charm is doubtful. If the red is rose and there is a gate surrounding it, if inside is let in and there places change then certainly something is upright. It is earnest. ~ Gertrude Stein,
541:There are certain phases of mind in which a man can neither ride nor shoot, nor play a stroke at billiards, nor remember a card at whist, — and to such a phase of mind had come both Crosbie and Dale after their conversation over the gate. ~ Anthony Trollope,
542:As they made their way from the small marina across the campsite and through the town gate to the bakery, an orc came toward them carrying an armful of baguettes. It was accompanied by an elf dressed up as Legolas, its eyes glued to its iPhone. ~ Nina George,
543:It was a cold hard easterly morning when he latched the garden gate and turned away. The light snowfall which had feathered his schoolroom windows on the Thursday, still lingered in the air, and was falling white, while the wind blew black. ~ Charles Dickens,
544:Yeah, we shot ourselves in the foot right out of the gate. The guy who ran it at first misled pretty much everybody about how much capital we had. He said we had enough to go three years without making money, and we had enough to go three weeks. ~ Al Franken,
545:Even the White House is weighing in on the deflate-gate scandal. Yesterday they encouraged Tom Brady to 'be mindful of the way he serves as a role model.' And then President Obama stuffed out his cigarette and went golfing at noon on a weekday. ~ Jimmy Fallon,
546:It was a tradition for Frau Holtzapfel, one of their neighbors, to spit on the Hubermanns’ door every time she walked past. The front door was only meters from the gate, and let’s just say that Frau Holtzapfel had the distance—and the accuracy. ~ Markus Zusak,
547:Maybe we’re here only to say: house,
bridge, well, gate, jug, olive tree, window —
at most, pillar, tower … but to say them, remember,
oh, to say them in a way that the things themselves
never dreamed of existing so intensely. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
548:Once a woman put her hand in a gate and it ate her fingers. A five-legged spider with red eyes crawled out. That woman put in three fingers from her other hand, so that the spider might be complete. Do you have that integrity of purpose, sister? ~ Yoon Ha Lee,
549:There the black horse stood - his feet planted firm on the ground, afraid to move. His coat was covered in sweat and a stark white rim lined his eyes. All three of us gawked at his sudden silence. The rattling metal gate was now the only sound. ~ Brittney Joy,
550:The vilest deeds, like poison weeds,             Bloom well in prison air;           It is only what is good in Man             That wastes and withers there;           Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate,             And the Warder is Despair. ~ Upton Sinclair,
551:I think we cover the faces of corpses for the same reason. We see the faces of the dead as a kind of gate. It’s shut against us . . . but we know it won’t always be shut. Someday it will swing open for each of us, and each of us will go through. ~ Stephen King,
552:I want to risk hitting my head on the ceiling of my talent. I want to really test it out and say: O.K., you're not that good. You just reached the level here. I don't ever want to fail, but I want to risk failure every time out of the gate. ~ Quentin Tarantino,
553:Some poems present themselves as cliffs that need to be climbed. Others are so defensive that when you approach their enclosure you half expect to be met by a snarling dog at the gate. Still others want to smother you with their sticky charms. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
554:Go on thinking that you don't need to be read and you'll find that it may become quite true: no one will feel the need tom read it because it is written for yourself alone; and the public won't feel any impulse to gate crash such a private party. ~ Dylan Thomas,
555:It is a difficult thing―if not impossible―to forgive oneself for foolish errors, not for trampling a life or goring another with sharp horns, but for being the fool who opened the gate and let the bull out, blind to potential consequences. ~ Richelle E Goodrich,
556:Often our thoughts are finished cosmic wares
Admitted by a silent office gate
And passed through the subconscient’s galleries,
Then issued in Time’s mart as private make. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute,
557:The wall of it rose between them, higher than any she could raise with power. Too high by far to leap, too sheer to scale. But a gate—that, God willing, they could build. If she could learn to trust him again. If he could learn to rule his temper. ~ Judith Tarr,
558:All the watchmaker needs is a mechanism to count the back-and-forth oscillations—and counting is one of the simple tasks that binary logic gates can perform. In the digital watch a logic gate called a JK flip-flop counts the vibrations of the crystal. ~ T R Reid,
559:Marius had finally entered Cosette’s garden as Romeo entered the garden of Juliet. This had even proved easier for him than for Romeo; Romeo was obliged to scale a wall, Marius had only to use a little force on one of the bars of the decrepit gate. ~ Victor Hugo,
560:Spread before them past the gate was the Arena of the Sej Elders, formed of gigantic white granite blocks, rising over everything in the lower part of the city. Stone towers lined the wide avenue leading up to the arena. They had to move faster. ~ John Forrester,
561:As she passed through the wrought-iron gate, she found herself walking the same path she had walking the night she went to bid good-bye to Liviana. The night she had found Mariabella’s body and met Falco. The night her whole life had changed forever. ~ Fiona Paul,
562:ACT12.10 When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city; which opened to them of his own accord: and they went out, and passed on through one street; and forthwith the angel departed from him. ~ Anonymous,
563:God has nothing to say to the self-righteous. Unless you humble yourself before Him in the dust, and confess before Him your iniquities and sins, the gate of heaven, which is open only for sinners, saved by grace, must be shut against you forever. ~ Dwight L Moody,
564:I could happily lean on a gate all the livelong day, chatting to passers-by about the wind and the rain. I do a lot of gate-leaning while I am supposed to be gardening; instead of hoeing, I lean on the gate, stare at the vegetable beds and ponder. ~ Tom Hodgkinson,
565:In the last analysis, as Marilyn Ferguson observed, “No one can persuade another to change. Each of us guards a gate of change that can only be opened from the inside. We cannot open the gate of another, either by argument or by emotional appeal. ~ Stephen R Covey,
566:Why are we here? Is there, really, some intelligent design? Why do we cry for someone who leaves us, if there's some Grand Pearly Gate in the sky? Why worry about how we build our lives if the ultimate ending for all is death, a single breath away? ~ Ellen Hopkins,
567:Come on.” “Where are we going?” “Across the street,” she said, opening the gate. “What for?” “I told you, it’s better if you figure it out on your own.” “Right,” he muttered. “No one can be told what the Matrix is.” She smirked. “Something like that. ~ Peter Clines,
568:He smiled at the sudden image of Prometheus tossing cars from one side of the bridge to the other to build his barrier. He heard the tiny tinkle of glass and wondered if being tossed across the Golden Gate Bridge by an Elder was covered by insurance. ~ Michael Scott,
569:Many people believe they have found the key to Heaven's gate, not realizing that there is no key hole. It is a barrier upon which you must knock. And I believe that it is by our small and simple acts of kindness that we find the gate left ajar. ~ Richelle E Goodrich,
570:he knew from studying maps in preparation: the broad avenues leading to the Brandenburg Gate. He had played Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos records many times, intricate magic alive in the air. The gate that led to the town of Brandenburg an der Havel. ~ Gregory Benford,
571:She died--this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side. ~ Emily Dickinson,
572:While running simple errands I often became hopelessly confused in the maze of crowded, filthy streets that began twenty paces beyond the north gate of the bridge, and as I limped back to my shelves of books I would feel as if I were returning from exile. ~ Ross King,
573:You have set up in New York Harbor a monstrous idol which you call Liberty. The only thing that remains to complete that monument is to put on its pedestal the inscription written by Dante on the gate of hell: All hope abandon ye who enter here. ~ George Bernard Shaw,
574:You have to step through the gate, the false barrier of your critical mind, to see all the ways we habitually reject the very place our lives have landed us. And then, we have to stop plotting an escape. That’s what practice is for: staying put. ~ Karen Maezen Miller,
575:A word, Sir Jamie. Quickly!"
You may speak freely, Alwyn," Jamie sighed. "You are always making too mcuh of minor incidents."
You're no' going to believe it, Sir Jamie," Alwyn gasped. "But I swear every male Fergusson alive is outside our gate. ~ Johanna Lindsey,
576:The elements of every concept enter into logical thought at the gate of perception and make their exit at the gate of purposive action; and whatever cannot show its passports at both those two gates is to be arrested as unauthorized by reason. ~ Charles Sanders Peirce,
577:If you throw me out of this house, I shall sleep on the path outside. If you return to the Continent without me, I shall follow you. I will build a willow hut at your gate; I will sleep under your window; I will be waiting for you at your own front door. ~ Eloisa James,
578:I say, 'But he does not have you,' and I kiss her through the orchard gate.
It's a kiss I have longed to take. A kiss that gently tugs at Astrid's seething power, at the wildness inside both of us. It's sweet and feels like a confession: I love her. ~ Tessa Gratton,
579:The elements of every concept enter into logical thought at the gate of perception and make their exit at the gate of purposive action; and whatever cannot show its passports at both those two gates is to be arrested as unauthorized by reason. ~ Charles Sanders Peirce,
580:The consumer boycott is the only open door in the dark corridor of nothingness down which farm workers have had to walk for many years. It is a gate of hope through which they expect to find the sunlight of a better life for themselves and their families. ~ Cesar Chavez,
581:To open the gate for me there was a gravedigger I had already met at the Star of The Sweden."I am looking for Mr. Kauderer," I said to him.
He answered, " Mr. Kauderer is not here. But since the cemetery is the home of those who are not here, come in. ~ Italo Calvino,
582:Within the U.S., the Obama presidency will be mainly measured by the success or failure of his economic policies. And here, I fear, the monstrous stimulus package with which this administration stumbled out of the gate will prove to be Obama's Waterloo. ~ Camille Paglia,
583:A writer often wants to change a reader’s perception about the world, which is a political act. But we have to work through character, so helping the reader to feel close to fictional characters is the gate through which we have to usher the reader. ~ Caryl Phillips,
584:Closing the gate is meant to be a season-long arc, but the questions that come up in the quest, and the series of reveals and discoveries, are meant to start being the under-pinings for questions, secrets and things that will be explored in future seasons. ~ Jeremy Carver,
585:When he reached the wire gate he stopped and stood looking back toward the horse barn and the cow lots. Then he raised his head and peered up at the stars. He spoke aloud. You dumb old son of a bitch, he said. You dumb old ignorant stupid son of a bitch. Then ~ Kent Haruf,
586:You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more secrets in my trade than in most men's, and yet not voluntarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would gladly tell all that I know about it, and never paint "No Admittance" on my gate. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
587:As I watch, the last of the convoy leaves the eastern gate.

“The Prayer Gate,” Barrow mutters.

“Hmm?”

He taps my glass, then points. “We call it the Prayer Gate. As you enter, you pray to leave. As you leave, you pray never to return. ~ Victoria Aveyard,
588:There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can. ~ Alice Hoffman,
589:There is nothing to find out. What I know, is that you walked through my gate that day and I lost my heart. But not because it could have been any girl-because it was you. I lost my heart to you. And, Bree, in case you're wondering, I don't ever want it back. ~ Mia Sheridan,
590:This narrow path beneath the great trees is edged darkly with thick greening moss. We keep it swept clean before the gate, in expectation of wandering mountain monks. from Bamboo Cottage: Poems and Translations, by Doug Westendorp

~ Wang Wei, Temple Tree Path
,
591:What I've found is that a lot of soldiers are surprisingly apolitical. Their reality is, "Today I'm going to leave the gate for twelve hours, and I'm going to make it back to the dining facility by sundown with the arms and legs of me and my buddies intact." ~ Henry Rollins,
592:Bullets sound like hornets when they pass too close to your head. After a while, the world closes down. You can't hear much, you can't see much, just the way ahead, the next slat, the next open gate. All you know is running; the only place that's real is away. ~ Sarah Zettel,
593:I always felt that if you're not trying something different each time out of the gate, you're being safe, and you don't ever want to find that place of safety. I like that, each time, before I even go in front of the cameras, the studio's reaction will be fear. ~ Johnny Depp,
594:She had seen those eyes dark with brooding anger and cold as ice, she'd seen his gaze veiled like a spiderweb and shattering like a gate under pressure. But she'd never seen them as they were now. Full of wondering joy and disbelief, and an almost frightened awe. ~ L J Smith,
595:Babel is a Biblical term for Babylon. The word is Semitic; Bab means gate and El means Cod, so Babel means 'Gate of God.' But it is probably also somewhat onomatopoeic, imitating someone
who speaks in an incomprehensible tongue. The Bible is full of puns. ~ Neal Stephenson,
596:The chains that held my left leg were about two yards long, and gave me not only the liberty of walking backwards and forwards in a semicircle, but, being fixed within four inches of the gate, allowed me to creep in, and lie at my full length in the temple. , ~ Jonathan Swift,
597:When you reach the little house, the place your journey started, you will recognize it, although it will seem much smaller than you remember. Walk up the path, and through the garden gate you never saw before but once. And then go home. Or make a home. And rest. ~ Neil Gaiman,
598:You don't have to see me out," I told him as he came back to the table. "Unless you're going home too."
"No. I have more training to do, but it's fine."
Don't sound so enthused, I thought as I drew a deep breath, turned, and headed toward the gate. ~ Kelly Keaton,
599:And somehow I had always resisted driving very slowly back and forth in front of his house. Willpower? No. I figured his front gate was equipped with security cameras and I would just be embarrassing myself. And this street was definitely not on the bus line. ~ Jennifer Echols,
600:So now get up.'

Felled, dazed, silent, he has fallen; knocked full length on the cobbles of the yard. His head turns sideways; his eyes are turned toward the gate, as if someone might arrive to help him out. One blow, properly placed, could kill him now. ~ Hilary Mantel,
601:This is the gate between the living and the dead", he said. "You are still living. The others on the grounds died very long time ago."

A chill ran through me. "And you?"

"Me?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "I rule the dead. I am not one of them ~ Aimee Carter,
602:Aside the narrow path leading from the house entrance door to the wicket, the perennials like variegated carnations and creamy color spots of pyrethrum made a curvy line looking like a kind of flowery brook falling into the odorous ocean of phloxes at the gate. ~ Sahara Sanders,
603:Loyalty is not a passive, negative guardianship of the gate-- loyalty arises from the complete & utter opening & subsequent blazing forth of one's inner life. It is an active, determined desire that demands total self-awareness & deliberate engagement. ~ Qiu Miaojin,
604:They say that life is a highway and its milestones are the years,And now and then there's a toll-gate where you buy your way with tears.It's a rough road and a steep road and it stretches broad and far,But at last it leads to a golden Town where golden Houses are. ~ Joyce Kilmer,
605:And it is here—on this western end of the street—that over the years has become known as Louisiana State’s most prominent breeding ground for disappearances and suicides: the delta region’s bastard lovechild between The Golden Gate Bridge and the Bermuda Triangle. ~ Stuart Conover,
606:History knocks at a thousand gates at every moment, and the gatekeeper is chance. We shout into the mist for this one or that one to be opened for us, but through every gate are a thousand more. We need wit and courage to make our way while our way is making us. ~ Alexander Herzen,
607:Mitch’s father’s exclusive gated community had an extensive guard gate. In fact, it had two. It also had an electrified fence. And towers with armed guards. All things considered, few gated communities could be more exclusive than the Colorado State Penitentiary. ~ Neal Shusterman,
608:An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself.’ Marcus Tullius Cicero ~ S J A Turney,
609:ADAM AND EVE, sitting in Paradise, chatting:
"If we could only open the gate and leave," says Eve.
"To go where, my dearest?"
"If we could only open the gate and leave!"
"Outside is sickness, pain, death!"
"If we could only open the gate and leave! ~ Nikos Kazantzakis,
610:I came to the ... open gate of mathematics. From here, well-trodden paths lead in every direction, and since then I have often spent time there. Sometimes I think ... I have trodden all the paths ... and then I suddenly discover a new path and experience fresh delights. ~ M C Escher,
611:It is my experience both as an artist and as a teacher that when we move out on faith into the act of creation, the universe is able to advance. It is a little like opening the gate at the top of a field irrigation system. Once we remove the blocks, the flow moves in. ~ Julia Cameron,
612:When I used to go to Elvis's house was always a nightmare trying to get into the house because of so many fans outside the gate and he really couldn't go anywhere without sneaking in or doing something because people just wanted to be around him and to be with him. ~ Jackie DeShannon,
613:I can see that everyone else is doing exactly what they wanted with the rest of their lives. They’re all at the gate, pawing the dirt and ready to run, and I’ve already got a lame leg and am this close to being taken around back of the stable to be put out of my misery. ~ Sarah Dessen,
614:We were two halves to a whole. Water, the mother of creation. Land, the father who supported it. We were forever joined, our souls tethered. In this moment, the truth came to life: Whether the gate closed or not, I would never be whole without this man by my side. ~ Denise Grover Swank,
615:but the latch to the gate popped open and he walked up a smoothly inclined ramp that started right at the gate to ensure that the angle wasn’t too dramatic. Good design, and uncommon because most ramps were crafted with no real thought to the user beyond being serviceable. ~ Alyssa Cole,
616:I am proud of being a Southerner. I wasn't about to let Southerners on my show be stupid or aw-shuckses who just sit on the front porch and spit in the yard. I wasn't about to do that, and I made that very clear from the start. I was kind of the gate-keeper on that stuff. ~ Andy Griffith,
617:The approval of the public is to be avoided like the plague. It is absolutely essential to keep the public from entering if one wishes to avoid confusion. I must add that the public must be kept panting in expectation at the gate by a system of challenges and provocations. ~ Andre Breton,
618:There are four great sciences, without which the other sciences cannot be known nor a knowledge of things secured ... Of these sciences the gate and key is mathematics ... He who is ignorant of this [mathematics] cannot know the other sciences nor the affairs of this world. ~ Roger Bacon,
619:Alec Nevala-Lee comes roaring out of the gate with a novel that's as thrilling as it is thought-provoking, as unexpected as it is erudite. The Icon Thief is a wild ride through a fascinating and morally complex world, a puzzle Duchamp himself would have applauded. Bravo. ~ Jesse Kellerman,
620:At the great iron gate of the churchyard he stopped and looked in. He looked up at the high tower spectrally resisting the wind, and he looked round at the white tombstones, like enough to the dead in their winding-sheets, and he counted the nine tolls of the clock-bell. ~ Charles Dickens,
621:is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
622:It was not, she said, confessing to her husband her sleeplessness, that she was afraid. She was only "keepin' them company, an' haudin' the yett open," she said. The latter phrase was her picture-periphrase for praying. She never said she prayed; she held the gate open. ~ George MacDonald,
623:<spoiler>Azrael...

In a flash, they disappeared. The path, the gate, the demon, and the Silver Blood.
Kingsley was gone. Trapped in Hell for eternity.

Mimi collapsed to the ground, as if her heart had imploded in her chest.</spoiler> ~ Melissa de la Cruz,
624:Might as well take the bull by the horns. Tomorrow it is."
Lydia watched Lord Aldershot wend his way out of the garden, taking the west gate to the stables. She wasn't too sure that she liked that analogy. A bull? Was she the bull or its horns? Neither sounded flattering. ~ Cindy Anstey,
625:the gate around
heaven was
crowded when we
arrived together.
you looked at me
and giggled
and with whiskey on
your rose breath
you led me to some
place higher.

i always knew you were
beyond them.
i just wasn't sure
how far. ~ Christopher Poindexter,
626:When the rose’s flash to the sunset
Reels to the wrack and the twist,
And the rose is a red bygone,
When the face I love is going
And the gate to the end shall clang,
And it’s no use to beckon or say, “So long”—
Maybe I’ll tell you then—
some other time. ~ Carl Sandburg,
627:Sometimes I felt I would die by wishing it when I went to sleep but I always woke up again and found I was still there. Every morning finding I'm still me, that's hell."

"Well, get out of hell then! The gate's open and I'm holding it!"

"I can't. I'm hell, myself. ~ Iris Murdoch,
628:At the dim portal of the inner life
That bars out from our depths the body’s mind
And all that lives but by the body’s breath,
She knocked and pressed against the ebony gate.
The living portal groaned with sullen hinge: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri, The Entry into the Inner Countries,
629:It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly, that, if an enemy take the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
630:As we walked past a quad bike chained to a farm gate, he remarked "It's such a pity how times have changed. You can't leave a piece of machinery out on the road any more." He seemed to have forgotten that he had just been describing a time when you couldn't leave you cattle out. ~ Rory Stewart,
631:Gjoa was later presented as a gift to the city of San Francisco, remaining on display in Golden Gate Park until 1972, when it was returned to Norway. It now resides in Oslo harbour, next to two other famous Norwegian ships, Fridtjof Nansen’s Fram and Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki. ~ Stephen R Bown,
632:I think I might miss you, too. So few things left in this world to terrorize me and look pretty while doing it. Now get out of here and enjoy your eternity.” He glanced calculatingly at the gate once again, and I raised my hand in warning. “I can drain faster than you can run. ~ Kiersten White,
633:Where I went off, you can get back on the track by going through the support race pitlane, but you have to go through a gate. I know this as I did the same thing in 2001 and the gate was open that year. Somebody closed it this time. Next year, I'll make sure it's open again... ~ Kimi Raikkonen,
634:I am flabbergasted by the widespread refusal across this land to think big about a loving God. Like nervous thoroughbreds being guided to the starting gate at Churchill Downs, many Christians bray, bridle, and bolt at the revelation of God’s all-embracing love in Jesus Christ. ~ Brennan Manning,
635:I have it on good authority there's going to be a new 'gate' opening up soon over on the south side of the wall."
The truth dawned on me. "Oh lord. You're the one who's been doling out C4."
"You make it sound easy," he said with a frown. "That stuff's hard to get a hold of. ~ Richelle Mead,
636:Let your door stand open to receive Him, unlock your soul to Him, offer Him a welcome in your mind, and then you will see the riches of simplicity, the treasures of peace, the joy of grace. Throw wide the gate of your heart, stand before the sun of the everlasting light. ~ Saint Ambrose of Milan,
637:Love reduces the complexity of living. It amazes me that when Henry walks towards the cafe table where I wait for him, or opens the gate to our house, the sight of him is sufficient to exult me. No letter from anyone, even in praise of my book, can stir me as much as a note from him. ~ Ana s Nin,
638:Sisters, you are each like the lioness at the gate. This means that there has to be some prioritizing. I was taught years ago that when our priorities are out of order, we lose power. If we need power and influence to carry out our mission, then our priorities have to be straight. ~ Julie B Beck,
639:The fog, which Meg knew from her father wasn’t fog at all, but low-lying clouds, began to burn off as the morning sun continued its climb through a blue-gray sky. The Golden Gate Bridge came into focus right before her eyes through a cloud that caressed the crimson metal into view. ~ Tracy Ewens,
640:To Israel's faithful hosts in the past, as to its loyal sons and daughters of the present, the Siddur has been the gate to communion with their Father in Heaven; and, at the same time, it has been a mighty spiritual bond that unites them to their scattered brethren the world over. ~ Joseph Hertz,
641:wild discipline by a dozen red-shirted men. The remaining half of the black-armored Arsiyah dismounted to confront the barred gate. They could not know, as Zelikman saw plainly from the top of the rise, that the Rus had abandoned, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say they ~ Michael Chabon,
642:But we are spirits of another sort:
I with the morning's love have oft made sport,
And, like a forester, the groves may tread,
Even till the eastern gate, all fiery-red,
Opening on Neptune with fair blessed beams,
Turns into yellow gold his salt green streams. ~ William Shakespeare,
643:History comforts the dull-witted,”” the young Malazan said.

Beneth barked a laugh as he reached the gate. “And whose words are those, Pella? Not yours.”

The guard’s brows rose, then shrugged. “I forget you’re Korelri sometimes, Beneth. Those words? Emperor Kellanved. ~ Steven Erikson,
644:The evening sky was streaked with purple, the color of torn plums, and a light rain had started to fall when I came to the end of the blacktop road that cut through twenty miles of thick, almost impenetrable scrub oak and pine and stopped at the front gate of Angola penitentiary. ~ James Lee Burke,
645:When the heavy gate finally swings open, Dylan, the boys, and about a dozen other children race directly to their favorite spots, although it’s hard to see how they navigate so expertly amid the chaos. “Is this a junkyard?” asks my 5-year-old son, Gideon, who has come with me to visit. ~ Anonymous,
646:A sense of great masses moving at visionary speeds, of giants dancing, of eternal sorrows consoled, of he knew not what and yet he had always known, awoke in him with the very first bass of the deep-mouthed dirge, and bowed down his spirit as if the gate of heaven had opened before him. ~ C S Lewis,
647:They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream ~ Ernest Dowson,
648:For a warrior, nothing is higher than a war against evil. The warrior confronted with such a war should be pleased, Arjuna, for it comes as an open gate to heaven. But if you do not participate in this battle against evil, you will incur sin, violating your dharma and your honor. ~ Swami Vivekananda,
649:The gate has a secret passcode. Sara has a secret passcode. She should. Andrew would stand there for years trying combinations. He wouldn't keep track or develop a strategy but just continue trying different combinations and then Kafka would rise from the grave and write a novel about him. ~ Tao Lin,
650:25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?' 26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.' 27 And the Lord did not ask him again. ~ Neil Gaiman,
651:- Come Inanna, enter, Neti said to her, and as Inanna entered the first gate, the sugurra, crown of the steppe, was taken from her head.

- What is this? asked Inanna

- Quiet, Inanna, she was told. The customs of the city of the dead are perfect. They may not be questioned. ~ Hal Duncan,
652:There is more beauty in truth, even if it is a dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist life so that it looks sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar. ~ John Steinbeck,
653:As a parting gift, he gave Harold the key chain from his house keys, the ones that opened the gate to Hamilton Arms: it was a clover, a charm for luck. Its stem was a little drawer, into which, Harold later found, George had put a love note. Harold kept the clover for the rest of his life. ~ Liz Moore,
654:Dance,' they told me, and I stood still,
and while I stood quiet in line at the gate of the Kingdom, I danced.

'Pray,' they said, and I laughed,
covering myself in the earth's brightnesses,
and then stole off gray into the midst of a revel,
and prayed like an orphan. ~ Wendell Berry,
655:He struck most of the friends he had made on Earth as an eccentric, but a harmless one—an unruly boozer with some oddish habits. For instance, he would often gate-crash university parties, get badly drunk and start making fun of any astrophysicists he could find till he got thrown out. ~ Douglas Adams,
656:Sometimes our feet may fail as we try to walk through the narrow gate. Especially if we make the passage harder than it needs to be, tighter and more confining. When we allow our fears and insecurities to blind us momentarily, we’re often tempted to make the gate narrower than God does. ~ Brian Houston,
657:You mustn't tell your dreams. Miss Testvalley says nothing bores people so much as being told other people's dreams. Nan said nothing, but an iron gate seemed to clang shut in her - the gate that was so often slammed by careless hands. As if anyone could be bored by such dreams as hers! ~ Edith Wharton,
658:I remember a story of a girl in Paradise who ate an apple once. Some wise Sapient gave it to her. Because of it she saw things differently. What had seemed gold coins were dead leaves. Rich clothes were rags of cobweb. And she saw there was a wall around the world, with a locked gate. ~ Catherine Fisher,
659:It's not just the body that must survive a jail term: the spirit and the will and the heart have to make it through as well. If any one of them is broken or destroyed, the man whose living body walks through the gate, at the end of his sentence, can't be said to have survived it. ~ Gregory David Roberts,
660:The plane slowed as it approached the gate. The pilot asked everybody to stay in their seats with their belts fastened. Almost everybody ignored that request. You could hear the belts clack open. Why? What did people gain from that extra second? Was it that we just liked to defy rules? He ~ Harlan Coben,
661:All the Scarabae—all but one—were crowded in the garden. They watched her. Their grim
old faces gave away nothing. Like elderly kiddies at a play they did not understand yet knew to be
important, they regarded her as she stood behind the gate.
Goodbye, she thought. Goodbye for ever. ~ Tanith Lee,
662:There are a thousand and one gates leading into the orchard of mystical truth. Every human being has his own gate. We must never make the mistake of wanting to enter the orchard by any gate but our own. To do this is dangerous for the one who enters and also for those who are already there. ~ Elie Wiesel,
663:At the first gate, the gatekeeper asks, “Is this true?” At the second gate, he asks, “Is it kind?” And at the third gate, “Is it necessary?” If we applied this proverb strictly, most of us would have very little to say. I am not recommending silence, however, but control over our speech. ~ Eknath Easwaran,
664:25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?'
26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.'
27 And the Lord did not ask him again. ~ Neil Gaiman,
665:A goodbye at the gate,” said Hobie. He seemed to be talking partly to himself. “That’s what he would have wanted. The parting glimpse, the death haiku—he wouldn’t have liked to leave without stopping to speak to someone along the way. ‘A teahouse amid the cherry blossoms, on the way to death. ~ Donna Tartt,
666:A goodbye at the gate," said Hobie. He seemed to be talking partly to himself. "That's what he would have wanted. The parting glimpse, the death haiku - he wouldn't have liked to leave without stopping to speak to someone along the way. 'A teahouse amid the cherry blossoms on the way to death. ~ Donna Tartt,
667:first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's ~ Anna Sewell,
668:I ran the Gate in Notting Hill for a while, which is where Stephen Daldry started out. Those theaters are magical, because there's no money, so in a way there're no boundaries and it allows you to be inventive and brave and take risks and all those important things while you're starting out. ~ Thea Sharrock,
669:Sons are indeed a heritage from the LORD, children, a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the sons born in one's youth. Happy is the man who has filled his quiver with them. Such men will never be put to shame when they speak with their enemies at the city gate. (Ps. 127:3-5) ~ Henry T Blackaby,
670:Woman, thou shouldst ever be clothed in rags and in mourning, appearing only as a penitent, drowned in tears, and expiating thus the sin of having caused the fall of the human race. Woman thou art the gate of the devil. It is thou who hast corrupted those whom Satan dare not attack face to face. ~ Tertullian,
671:George Moir Black
A FRIEND has passed
Across the bay,
So wide and vast,
And put away
The mortal form
That held his breath;
But through the storm
That men call death,
Erect and straight,
Unstained by years,
At Heaven's gate
A man appears.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,
672:This is so rich a country that luxury has developed at the expense of necessities, and even the destitute partake of the luxury. We are the rich country of the world, like Dives at the feast. We must try hard, we must study to be poor like Lazarus at the gate, who was taken into Abraham's bosom. ~ Dorothy Day,
673:Do you know, when I stepped through that gate I felt as though I had walked into a new world...something quite different from anything I had known before. I felt that something tremendously dramatic was happening and because it was all so quiet and in a way ordinary that made it rather sinister. ~ Victoria Holt,
674:The Sufis advise us to speak only after our words have managed to pass through three gates. At the first gate, we ask ourselves, 'Are these words true?' If so, we let them pass on; if not, back they go. At the second gate, we ask, 'Are the necessary?' At the last gate, we ask, 'Are they kind?' ~ Eknath Easwaran,
675:Two large, soft traveling bags weighed down his shoulders by their straps. Holo adverts blossomed into life around him. He walked lightly, scanning the people waiting for the shuttle. Food smells came out of the fast eateries across from the gate. The air hummed with the noise of business. ~ Walter Jon Williams,
676:A goodbye at the gate,” said Hobie. He seemed to be talking partly to himself. “That’s what he would have wanted. The parting glimpse, the death haiku—he wouldn’t have liked to leave without stopping to speak to someone along the way. ‘A teahouse amid the cherry blossoms, on the way to death.’ ” He ~ Donna Tartt,
677:Crash was a great player, and while I’d been a bit worried about facing him in the tournament before, he’d developed Titan Gate. If this world was as similar as it seemed to be, he’d likely know tons of secrets that could help us. Having him here would be like having Harry Dresden’s talking skull! ~ J A Cipriano,
678:Cudjo meetee de people at de gate and tells dem, “You see de rattlesnake in de woods?” Dey say, “Yeah.” I say “If you bother wid him, he bite you. If you know de snake killee you, why you bother wid him? Same way wid my boys, you unnerstand me. If you leave my boys alone, dey not bother nobody! ~ Zora Neale Hurston,
679:I lay there silently, hoarding my small dignity. I did not ask about the gate or the closet. I did not question the bedtime ritual where, on the cold bathroom tiles, I was spread out daily and examined for flaws. I did not know that my bones, those solids, those pieces of sculpture would not splinter. ~ Anne Sexton,
680:Nirvana is this moment seen directly. There is no where else than here. The only gate is now. The only doorway is your own body and mind. There’s nowhere to go. There’s nothing else to be. There’s no destination. It’s not something to aim for in the afterlife. It’s simply the quality of this moment. ~ Gautama Buddha,
681:Why is this full moon so important? She is named for her moment of maximum potency. The full moon is the quintessence. She has not been eclipsed into malefic but is in a state of exultation. The full moon is not merely the culmination of the cycle, it is a gate which opens up into a path outside of time. ~ Peter Grey,
682:To be a true poet is to become God.
I tried to explain this to my friends on Heaven's Gate. 'Piss, shit,' I said. 'Asshole motherfucker, goddamn shit goddamn. Cunt. Pee-pee cunt. Goddamn!'
They shook their heads and smiled, and walked away. Great poets are rarely understood in their own day. ~ Dan Simmons,
683:If all, or the majority of humanity, end up in heaven, then Jesus made a mistake in his pronouncement that only a few will enter through the "narrow gate" into heaven. And if Jesus was wrong about this, then one could assume that he may have been wrong about a number of other issues of which he spoke. ~ Robert Jeffress,
684:[…] A brother don’t need a gate – he jumps the fence. That’s street.’
‘Again, please?’ said Howard.
‘Street, street,’ bellowed Zora. It’s like, “being street”, knowing the street – in Levi’s sad little world if you’re a Negro you have some kind of mysterious holy communion with sidewalks and corners. ~ Zadie Smith,
685:And next morning, as my stepmother wept on the ramparts of the High Gate, and under a blue, clean sky, we rode to war. Two hundred and fifty men went south, following our banner of the wolf’s head.
That was in the year 867, and it was the first time I ever went to war.
And I have never ceased. ~ Bernard Cornwell,
686:Obviously it's one of my biggest wins, and especially after a long layoff, to come back out and win in my fifth start means a lot. I've been working hard on my game and been working hard on me, and so it means a great deal to have some success right out of the gate. It gives me a lot of confidence, too. ~ Dustin Johnson,
687:He last, late guest
To the gate we followed;
Goodbye – and the rest
The night-wind swallowed.

House, garden, street,
Lay tenfold gloomy,
Where accents sweet
Had made music to me.

It was but a feast
With the dark coming on;
She was but a guest –
And now, she is gone. ~ Henrik Ibsen,
688:So many people talk about the Golden Gate bridge, but I would bet they haven't seen the new Sava River Bridge. It has long metal ropes suspending it, like a gigantic angel's harp waiting for god's fingers to reach down and pluck the first chords, to send a vibration of relief and love into the heart of Belgrade. ~ Poppet,
689:when the serpent breathed the poison of his pride, the desire to be as God, into the hearts of our first parents, that they too fell from their high estate into all the wretchedness in which man is now sunk. In heaven and earth, pride, self-exaltation, is the gate and the birth, and the curse, of
hell. ~ Andrew Murray,
690:Rules help govern and steer a relationship along, so they're good things. But they become bad things when they become the narrow gate though which the relationship must always pass. When this happens, the rules become the basis for the relationship and, in a sense, become a substitute for the relationship. ~ Miroslav Volf,
691:She Died—this Was The Way She Died
150
She died—this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The Angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.
~ Emily Dickinson,
692:Politics was not just about winning the election, it was about winning decisively--having the momentum to carry out one's vision. Historically, any president who squeaked into office on a narrow margin accomplished much less; he was weakened right out of the gate, and Congress never seemed to let him forget it. ~ Dan Brown,
693:He headed back up the midway. At the end of it, he looked down to his right. That was the Concourse. He’d have to walk down that later, anyway, so he turned to his left and followed a much less-crowded street past a miscellany of buildings, and at the end, looked past a gate and over an extensive campground. ~ John Sandford,
694:If Resistance couldn't be beaten, there would be no Fifth Symphony, no Romeo and Juliet, no Golden Gate Bridge. Defeating Resistance is like giving birth. It seems absolutely impossible until you remember that women have been pulling it off successfully, with support and without, for fifty million years. ~ Steven Pressfield,
695:Miss Lark had two gates. One was for Miss Lark’s friends and relations, and the other for the Butcher and the Baker and the Milkman. Once the Baker made a mistake and came in through the gate reserved for the friends and relations, and Miss Lark was so angry that she said she wouldn’t have any more bread ever. ~ P L Travers,
696:What we deplore is not that the gate of western knowledge was thrown open to Indians, but that such knowledge was imported to India at the sacrifice of our own cultural heritage. What was needed was a proper synthesis between the two systems and not neglect, far less destruction, of the Indian base. ~ Syama Prasad Mukherjee,
697:And it seems to me I can, it seems to me I can open the little wicket gate, and cry, “There is hope!” The one who said there is no hope is a liar and a murderer from the beginning, and the father of lies. There is hope because Jesus died. There is hope everywhere except in the infernal lake of fire. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
698:When you reach the little house, the place your journey started,

you will recognize it, although it will seem

much smaller than you remember.

Walk up the path, and through the garden gate

you never saw before but once.

And then go home.

Or make a home.

And rest. ~ Neil Gaiman,
699:Psychedelics are not a substitute for faith. They are a door to authentic faith, born of encountering directly the sacred dimension of everyday experience. This is not the only gate to that discovery, but it is the most ancient and universal, and potentially the most accessible to the majority of the human race. ~ Rick Doblin,
700:Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all." Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. ~ Anonymous,
701:Myron strolled, feigning interest. He stopped at a crystal statue with a marble base. Something modern or cubist or what-have-you. Symmetrical Bowel Movement maybe. Myron put his hand on it. Substantial. He looked out the one-way glass. Too low for much of a view beyond the hedges lining the front gate. Hmm. The ~ Harlan Coben,
702:Presumably the car at the gate was Matt, the man who would work over Priss, head to toes. Even from a distance, Matt looked flamboyant with bleached-blond hair, dark shades and a purple convertible.
It was unreasonable and it made little sense, but because he’d be working on Priss, Trace disliked him on sight. ~ Lori Foster,
703:The story is, a man came up to Yosemite and the ranger was sitting at the front gate and the man said, "I've only got one hour to see Yosemite. If you only had one hour to see Yosemite, what would you do?" And the ranger said, "Well, I'd go right over there, and I'd sit on that rock, and I'd cry." - Nevada Barr ~ Dayton Duncan,
704:Enter ye in at the astrait gate; for strait is the gate, and narrow is the way that leads to life, and few there be that find it; but wide is the gate, and broad the way which leads to death, and many there be that travel therein, until the night cometh, wherein no man can work. ~ The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints,
705:We stop at the gate to the apartment, but Bruno’s still hanging on to me.
“The key,” he says, swaying his hips. “Pocket on left.”
“So put me down and get it out.”
He lowers his lips to my ear. “You get it for me?”
Goose bumps. All over. I may have decided I want his attention, but that’s a little much. ~ Kristin Rae,
706:The sponsors of war closely resemble the weapons they create. And smart bombs, depleted uranium, land mines, rockets and tanks, rather than protect 'widows and orphans and strangers at the gate', are designed precisely to create 'widows and orphans', to transform strangers into enemies and enemies into corpses. ~ Daniel Berrigan,
707:What President of the Airline is doing is, he's urging everyone to give up their frequent flyer miles for sick kids... But as I was reading this, there were two empty seats next to me. Why can't sick kids sit there? If they're so concerned with sick kids, shouldn't they have like a pen of sick kids next to the gate? ~ David Cross,
708:a black site, a night chapel, spoiled land, a kind of charging station for evil. “They’re all over the place. The Paris catacombs, Guantánamo Bay, Lake Powell, the Bellagio, the House on the Rock, the Golden Gate Bridge.” There are at least two others in Oregon alone. The Rajneesh compound and the Lava River Cave. ~ Benjamin Percy,
709:Quite often startups were first out of the gate with a sustaining technology. But somehow the leaders got the technology and stayed atop their industries. Sometimes they acquired the startup; sometimes they just developed the technology as a follower and used their muscle and mass to win. But they always won. ~ Clayton Christensen,
710:Animation had been used only for things like King Kong and the destruction of cities, which was very popular in the 1950s. I got tired of destroying cities. I destroyed New York, I destroyed San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge, Rome, and Washington. I was looking for a new outlet, and I came across the Sinbad legends. ~ Ray Harryhausen,
711:Those who seek the truth by means of intellect and learning only get further and further away from it. Not till your thoughts cease all their branching here and there, not till you abandon all thoughts of seeking for something, not till your mind is motionless as wood or stone, will you be on the right road to the Gate." ~ Huang Po,
712:Whenever you are in the world of the tonal, you should be an impeccable tonal; no time for irrational crap. But whenever you are in the world of the nagual, you should also be impeccable; no time for rational crap. For the warrior intent is the gate in between. It closes completely behind him when he goes either way ~ Carlos Castaneda,
713:If you suffer for the truth of the gospel, and you will, remember you’re in good company. You’re following the best example who ever served God; you are on the Lord’s side, casting off self-righteousness to walk through the narrow gospel gate that leads to eternal life, and faithfully giving that gospel to others. ~ John F MacArthur Jr,
714:This book is a chronicle of how my family came to be where we are and what we learned along the way as well as a map to guide you on your own journey. I’ll even tell you the moral of the story upfront (the proverbial string tied to the gate of the labyrinth): You have more control over the food you eat than you think. ~ J Natalie Winch,
715:Wisdom

When I have ceased to break my wings
Against the faultiness of things,
And learned that compromises wait
Behind each hardly opened gate,
When I can look Life in the eyes,
Grown calm and very coldly wise,
Life will have given me the Truth,
And taken in exchange -- my youth. ~ Sara Teasdale,
716:I haven't isolated myself. I am not living on a yacht somewhere. I am not tucked away or behind a gate somewhere. I am not flying on a private plane. I am going to the airport, I am with people, some of the interactions are good, some of them are not so good, but it keeps me in touch with being, you know, part of society. ~ Nicolas Cage,
717:Most aspiring screenwriters simply don't spend enough time choosing their concept. It's by far the most common mistake I see in spec scripts. The writer has lost the race right from the gate. Months - sometimes years - are lost trying to elevate a film idea that by its nature probably had no hope of ever becoming a movie. ~ Terry Rossio,
718:If people really want to go, and really try all their lives, I think they will get in; for I don't believe there are any locks on that door, or any guards at the gate. I always imagine it is as it is in the picture, where the shining ones stretch out their hands to welcome poor Christian as he comes up from the river. ~ Louisa May Alcott,
719:If people really want to go, and really try all their lives, I think they will get in; for I don’t believe there are any locks on that door, or any guards at the gate. I always imagine it is as it is in the picture, where the shining ones stretch out their hands to welcome poor Christian as he comes up from the river. ~ Louisa May Alcott,
720:We passed by the large chambers and, on the way back, I saw a big curtain at the entrance to the large chambers, a curtain used to cover the Ark containing the Torah Scrolls with the Shield of David on it, and on the curtain there was the inscription: “This is the gate of the Lord, through which the righteous shall enter. ~ Bill O Reilly,
721:When I look at the large green iron gate from my window it takes on the air of a prison gate. An unjust feeling, since I know I can leave the place whenever I want to, and since I know that human beings place upon an object, or a person, this responsibility of being the obstacle when the obstacle lies always within one’s self. ~ Ana s Nin,
722:Friend, many and many a dream is mere confusion a cobweb of no consequence at all. Two gates for ghostly dreams there are: One gateway of honest horn, and one of ivory. Issuing by the ivory gate are dreams of glimmering illusion, fantasies, but those that come through solid polished horn may be borne out, if mortals only know them. ~ Homer,
723:There has fallen a splendid tear        From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear;        She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, ‘She is near, she is near;’        And the white rose weeps, ‘She is late;’ The larkspur listens, ‘I hear, I hear;’        And the lily whispers, ‘I wait. ~ Holly Ringland,
724:Why must the gate be narrow? Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened. To come in among these trees you must leave behind the six days’ world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes. You must come without weapon or tool, alone, expecting nothing, remembering nothing, into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf. ~ Wendell Berry,
725:I don't think in terms of legacy. I think: I was here, and while I was here, it was incumbent upon me to make my life meaningful. And once I'm gone, that's fine. There are other people crowding in the gate. We don't want to clutter up the table with the legacy of people who've gone. There are other people. Give them a chance. ~ Tamim Ansary,
726:At last, in the dead of the night, when the street was very still indeed, Little Dorrit laid the heavy head upon her bosom, and soothed her to sleep. And thus she sat at the gate, as it were alone; looking up at the stars, and seeing the clouds pass over them in their wild flight-which was the dance at Little Dorrit's party. ~ Charles Dickens,
727:I was smart enough to know it would probably make me a salable item for the paparazzi. I knew I'd have to move to a home that had a gate. But that pearl of possibility that lives in your heart when you meet somebody you want to know more about has such a different molecular density than everything else that you have to pursue it. ~ John Mayer,
728:She held the woman's hand but the hand was now simply weight. She listened as the men returned north toward the gate from which they'd first entered. They passed close to her tent. It seemed an endless procession, thousands strong. She imagined them not as men, not even as human, but as a dark, daylong season: a primal winter. ~ Omar El Akkad,
729:There was this gate and it was just some rusty gate but I knew I had to get through it. The only way forward is through. Who said that? I had to get through it, if I didn’t I would die, get cut open, sliced with a knife from the neck right down to labia with me screaming all the time, I just had to get through the fucking gate. ~ Marlon James,
730:The whole point of me not getting knocked up with the prince’s baby was to keep the gates closed, but we had to open them. Temporarily.

And we’d need the Order for that.

I had a suspicion baby Jesus was more likely to attend dinner tonight wearing suspenders than getting them on board with opening a gate. ~ Jennifer L Armentrout,
731:Writing novels is much the same. You gather up bones and make your gate, but no matter how wonderful the gate might be, that alone doesn’t make it a living, breathing novel. A story is not something of this world. A real story requires a kind of magical baptism to link the world on this side with the world on the other side. ~ Haruki Murakami,
732:Fortified with self-loathing, with the reserves of sardonic contempt he’d absorbed in his time spent around Milacar, he’d gone to the gate tight-lipped and filled with a strange, queasy energy, as if walking to his own execution as well as Jelim’s. He’d known at some deep, cold level that he would cope. He was wrong. Utterly. ~ Richard K Morgan,
733:Grasses
Boundless grasses over the plain
Come and go with every season;
Wildfire never quite consumes them -They are tall once more in the spring wind.
Sweet they press on the old high- road
And reach the crumbling city-gate....
O Prince of Friends, you are gone again....
I hear them sighing after you.
~ Bai Juyi,
734:Entering in the narrow gate is allowing Him to define your life, and not in general terms. See, there's your problem. 'Oh, Jesus is everything to me, and Jesus is Lord.' Okay, specifically though, explain to me what that means: what has it cost you, how have you changed your life from the course the rest of the world is walking in? ~ Paul Washer,
735:my father became very Chinese then. He said, ‘There’s more beauty in the truth even if it is dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist life so that it looks sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar, ~ John Steinbeck,
736:By the understanding of the impermanence, of subjection to grief and of the unreality of substance of all formations arises the light of the true wisdom and without it there can be no veritable illumination. The gate of the Way is found in this understanding. Whoever strives not to come to it, is torn into pieces by death. ~ Fo-shu-hing-tsan-king,
737:She saw Bran step through the heavy gate. A big smile spread across her face at the sight of him.
Unable to stop herself she drank in the way his broad shoulders stretched out his long-sleeved shirt and the way his thick thigh muscles flexed and strained under his cargo pants. The male was walking, talking sex and he was all hers. ~ Katie Reus,
738:The way to heaven is too steep, too narrow for men to dance in and keep revel rout. No way is large or smooth enough for capering rousters, for jumping, skipping, dancing dames but that broad, beaten, pleasant road that leads to hell. The gate of heaven is too narrow for whole rounds, whole troops of dancers to march in together. ~ William Prynne,
739:The walking dead weren’t in my back yard, but they were close. If they came through the gate now, this was going to be a short novella. My towel caught on the next-to-useless excuse for a lock on the door. I didn’t even stop to grab it. Somehow it seemed nobler to die naked like a savage than with a terry cloth towel around my waist. I ~ Mark Tufo,
740:Ah,well," Said Abe, idly studying his fingertips. "I have it on good authority there's going to be a new 'gate' opening up soon over on the south side of the wall."
The truth dawned on me. "Oh lord. You're the one who's been doling out C4."
"You make it sound so easy," He said with a frown. "That stuffs hard to get a hold of. ~ Richelle Mead,
741:Death is the gate of life. Ingratitude is the soul's enemy... Ingratitude is a burning wind that dries up the source of love, the dew of mercy, the streams of grace. You will find something far greater in the woods than you will find in books. Stones and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters. ~ Saint Bernard of Clairvaux,
742:I lay there silently,
hoarding my small dignity.
I did not ask about the gate or the closet.
I did not question the bedtime ritual
where, on the cold bathroom tiles,
I was spread out daily
and examined for flaws.

I did not know
that my bones,
those solids, those pieces of sculpture
would not splinter. ~ Anne Sexton,
743:RESISTANCE CAN BE BEATEN If Resistance couldn't be beaten, there would be no Fifth Symphony, no Romeo and Juliet, no Golden Gate Bridge. Defeating Resistance is like giving birth. It seems absolutely impossible until you remember that women have been pulling it off successfully, with support and without, for fifty million years. ~ Steven Pressfield,
744:Somewhere along the way I came upon a mews with a small sign on the entrance gate addressed to the passing world. The sign orders flatly:

COMMIT NO NUISANCE

The more you stare at that, the more territory it covers. From dirtying the streets to housebreaking to invading Viet Nam, that covers all the territory there is. ~ Helene Hanff,
745:Writing novels is much the same. You gather up bones and make your gate, but no matter how wonderful the gate might be, that alone doesn't make it a living breathing novel. A story is not something of this world. A real story requires a kind of magical baptism to link the world on this side with the world on the other side. ~ Haruki Murakami,
746:Eeyore religion says that the earth isn't worth saving, anyway, and that when it comes to an end, the Faithful will be transported instantly to heaven. No problem. We'd like to see them explain things to Saint Peter at the Gate, when he asks them what they did with the world that God entrusted to them. That might get a bit sticky. ~ Benjamin Hoff,
747:We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and God is shining through it all the time. God manifests Himself everywhere, in everything - in people and in things and in nature and in events ... The only thing is we don't see it ... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere. ~ Thomas Merton,
748:In mathematical quarters, the regular division of the plane has been considered theoretically. ... [Mathematicians] have opened the gate leading to an extensive domain, but they have not entered this domain themselves. By their very nature they are more interested in the way in which the gate is opened than in the garden lying behind it. ~ M C Escher,
749:A few weeks later, my mother found a letter nailed to the gate. The grim black ink declared our misfortune to every passerby: we were to be the neighborhood’s third eviction. The soldiers now claimed that our beautiful house—with its blond tatami and white paper screens and dark halls—was to be requisitioned. My family had two days. ~ Shawna Yang Ryan,
750:A train went through a burial gate
A train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the churchyard rang;
And then adjusted his little notes,
And bowed and sang again.
Doubtless, he thought it meet of him
To say good-by to men.
~ Emily Dickinson,
751:But survival means more than simply being alive. It's not just the body that must survive a jail term: the spirit and the will and the heart have to make it through as well. If any one of them is broken or destroyed, the man whose living body walks through the gate, at the end of his sentence, can't be said to have survived it. ~ Gregory David Roberts,
752:...Individualistic material progress and the desire to gain prestige by coming out on top have taken over from the sense of fellowship, compassion and community. Now people live more or less on their own in a small house, jealously guarding their goods and planning to acquire more, with a notice on the gate that says, 'Beware of the Dog. ~ Jean Vanier,
753:Why must the gate be narrow?
Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened.
To come into the woods you must leave behind
the six day's world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes.
You must come without weapon or tool, alone,
expecting nothing, remembering nothing,
into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf. ~ Wendell Berry,
754:And the shitty jobs made the good ones more meaningful. Most people don’t land their dream job right out of the gate, which means we all have to start somewhere. You’ll appreciate your amazing career so much more when you look back a your not-so-amazing jobs in the past, and hopefully realize that you learned something from all of them. ~ Sophia Amoruso,
755:/Farsi Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate. [bk1sm.gif] -- from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, by Omar Khayyam / Translated by Edward FitzGerald

~ Omar Khayyam, 31 - Up from Earths Centre through the Seventh Gate
,
756:There was the gate next, which she(Liesel)clung to. A gang of tears trudged from her eyes as she held on and refused to go inside. People started to gather on the street, until Rosa Hubermann swore at them, after which they reversed back whence they came. ~A TRANSLATION OF ROSA HUBERMANN’S ANNOUNCEMENT~ ‘What are you arseholes looking at? ~ Markus Zusak,
757:If the Romans could have fortified their cities the way the human brain fortifies itself, we’d still be wearing togas. The mind is an amazing piece of biomachinery, really. A serious threat presents itself at the gate and up fly the walls, standing firm in the face of earth-shaking revelations, ideological bullets, and plain old logic. ~ Kelley Armstrong,
758:When we understand that our unique selves and the lives we live are meant to be art, all of us can accept this dare to challenge the status quo. What I mean by status quo is the soul-deadening homogeny that stands there like a great, stupid thug blocking us from passing through the gate into a life that is satisfying because it is our own. ~ Jacob Nordby,
759:Greed and desire
Not peace, but fire
Coveting creation
Created damnation
Pulled alongside
A gate thrown too wide
Now our home calls
And darkness fall

"I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on."A for effort, ladies, but F for clarity. You do realise that your wierd poem things never explain anything", ~ Kiersten White,
760:LUCAS WATCHED THE GATE roll back and caught the two clear lenses, and two black glassy spots, one of each on the stone gate pillars, on either side of the driveway. Camera lenses and infrared alarm sensors. The security would be excellent. And the hard drives on the security cameras could be gotten with a search warrant: something to know. ~ John Sandford,
761:Maybe you weren't born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but like every American, you carry a deed to 635 million acres of public lands. That's right. Even if you don't own a house or the latest computer on the market, you own Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Golden Gate National Recreation Area, and many other natural treasures. ~ John Garamendi,
762:The Soul selects her own Society—
Then—shuts the Door—
To her divine Majority—
Present no more—

Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing—
At her low Gate—
Unmoved—an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat—

I've known her—from an ample nation—
Choose One—
Then—close the Valves of her attention—
Like Stone— ~ Emily Dickinson,
763:was an immense and solid building, erected at a vast expense. I could not help thinking, as we approached the gate, what an uproar would have been made in the country, if any deluded man had proposed to spend one half the money it had cost, on the erection of an industrial school for the young, or a house of refuge for the deserving old. ~ Charles Dickens,
764:Martial was among many who extolled the healthy life in the country, but he, at least, retained his sense of irony. My orchard isn’t the Hesperides There’s no Massylian dragon at the gate, Nor is it King Alcinous’ estate; It’s in Nomentum, where the apple-trees, Perfectly unmolested, bear a crop So tasteless that no guard needs be kept. ~ Elizabeth Speller,
765:Childhood is supposed to be a radiant springtime but mine seems to have been always autumn, the gales seething in the big beeches behind this old gate-lodge, as they’re doing right now, and the rooks above them wheeling haphazard, like scraps of char from a bonfire, and a custard-coloured gleam having its last go low down in the western sky. ~ John Banville,
766:Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky. ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson,
767:One day, a woman found herself standing at Heaven's gate. The angels' only question to her was, "Zusai, why weren't you Zusai?" Within that simple question lies the heart of all our soul work. If you are David, why aren't you fully David? If you are Susan, why aren't you completely Susan? We are here on Earth to become who we are meant to be. ~ Angeles Arrien,
768:There are twin Gates of Sleep. One, they say, is called the Gate of Horn and it offers easy passage to all true shades. The other glistens with ivory, radiant, flawless, but through it the dead send false dreams up toward the sky. And here Anchises, his vision told in full, escorts his son and Sibyl both and shows them out now through the Ivory Gate. ~ Virgil,
769:But I won’t ring. I don’t want to see him. I won’t ring the bell. This was a firm decision, at last! The decision that opened the gate to a full and useful lifetime of firm decisions! She walked down the path! Back to downtown! Up to the Derry Town House! Packed! Cabbed! Flew! Told Tom to bug out! Lived successfully! Died happily! Rang the bell. ~ Stephen King,
770:Kevin floated a trial idea. To him the protesters at the front gate were the equivalent of the protesters outside abortion clinics. The Rock Hudsons tried to stop people coming here the same way do-gooders tried to block people going to murder their unborn kids. The irony was in how those same rescued babies got adopted by Rock Hudsons. Kevin ~ Chuck Palahniuk,
771:She was called Maria. She was a Maria Magdalena who washed away sins, and she was Venus Anadyomene to me, though she was ill-nourished I think since birth, my artist’s eye saw she was puny, though my lover’s eye saw her breasts as globes of milky marble, and the tuft between her legs as the bushes surrounding the gate to Paradise Lost—and Regained. ~ A S Byatt,
772:See what I mean,” I raised my hand into the air as if offering proof. “He’s pissed and all he can think about are assholes. It’s like two prizes in one.”

“You’re sick.”

“As in rad?” I asked. “Like…you’re totally sick, dude.”

“As in demented,” Gabe said.I scoffed, watching as he opened the gate on the SUV. “Everyone’s a critic. ~ Ethan Day,
773:What is it that makes natural selection succeed as a solution to the problem of improbability, where chance and design both fail at the starting gate? The answer is that natural selection is a cumulative process, which breaks the problem of improbability up into small pieces. Each of the small pieces is slightly improbable, but not prohibitively so. ~ Anonymous,
774:/Farsi The day Love was illumined, Lovers learned from You how to burn, Beloved. The flame was set by the Friend to give the moth a gate to enter. Love is a gift from the Beloved to the Lover. [1472.jpg] -- from Nobody, Son of Nobody: Poems of Shaikh Abu-Saeed Abil-Kheir, Translated by Vraje Abramian

~ Abu-Said Abil-Kheir, The day Love was illumined
,
775:The Swamp of Despond is that place set before the narrow gate where true and false pilgrims alike are assaulted by their own internal corruption and pollution. The dirt and scum that has attached itself to our hearts and minds is agitated and revealed by both the workings of a guilty conscience and the devouring avarice of the enemy of our souls.The ~ John Bunyan,
776:And in the Highlands finding the prize less rewarding than the chase, growing into manhood on a copper crown throne, wrestling with the mundane from plague to famine, building an economy like a swordsman builds muscle, recruiting, training, and for what? To have some preordained emperor trample it beneath his heel on his march to the Gilden Gate. I ~ Mark Lawrence,
777:Wenna followed us out. "You've done him some good, Clary, I have to say! He's got color in his cheeks, and he's stepping along as if he was sixty again," she told Goodwin as she walked us to the gate. "You'll come back?"
"Of course," Goodwin said. "But thank Cooper for his improved spirits. Once he'd insulted her a few times, he was in the pink. ~ Tamora Pierce,
778:You're joking. You want to help me?"
"We're brothers-in-arms, Sonny." Fennrys stood and paced restlessly. "And, truth is, I'm bored out of my mind in Manhattan. Nothing to do there but jump at shadows and put up with Aaneel's pompous yapping: 'There're crack in the Gate! Remain vigilant! Protect the puny humans! Eek, a mouse!' It's tiresome. ~ Lesley Livingston,
779:A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. ~ Marcus Tullius Cicero,
780:I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed. Since I leave now all gold and silver, and go where it is of little worth, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate. . . If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. ~ J R R Tolkien,
781:No," said Asho, his voice hollow. "I remember now. Something the demon said. This time 'round, he's not returning to the Black Gate when he's done cleansing the Hold. He's going to keep on. He said he would sweep out across the land and drown everything in flame and shadow." "Well, fuck," said Brocuff. He stood again, and this time he did stalk off. Ser ~ Phil Tucker,
782:Stay together,” he said, helping Marte amid the surging crowd. “At least we’re off that godforsaken train. Look . . . ” He pointed upward to letters forming an arch high above the gate. “What does it say, Papa?” Lucy asked. It was in German. “Work will set you free. See, you have to get strong again, Marte. If we work here, we will be safe. You’ll see. ~ Andrew Gross,
783:The heart is a gate-less gate to divinity. Move to the heart. We are all hung up, stuck in the head - that is our problem. The only problem is that we think too much. There is only one solution - get down from the head to the heart. All your problems will disappear. Problems are created by the head. The heart is innocent. The heart is a fountain of love. ~ Vasant Lad,
784:The Swamp of Despond is that place set before the narrow gate where true and false pilgrims alike are assaulted by their own internal corruption and pollution. The dirt and scum that has attached itself to our hearts and minds is agitated and revealed by both the workings of a guilty conscience and the devouring avarice of the enemy of our souls.
The ~ John Bunyan,
785:We've decided that your birthday present will be a car", said Marion.
Danny was touched. "But the thing I can't figure out is, why would I need a new car?"
"You can't very well gate a girl to the movies, Danny," Leslie replied.
"I think you're overlooking the biggest point here," said Danny. "I don't need a CAR so I can date. I need a GIRL. ~ Orson Scott Card,
786:I must congratulate myself, in passing, for never having lost the ability to examine my conscience, never having lost the gift of finding myself wanting & defective. Why fear the criticism of others when you, yourself, are first out of the critical gate? If self-denigration is the race I am the winner, even before the starting gun. Collect the bets. ~ Frank McCourt,
787:A great deal of anthropological/ethnological literature describes indigenous peoples who live in oneness with the natural world and one another. Survival itself necessitates a borderlessness between inner and outer worlds. At times we still feel a return to that unified state. T.S. Eliot’s designation of our return is ‘through the unknown remembered gate.' ~ John Zerzan,
788:All of them raced toward his house:  Troy, Roger, Arturo, Sam, little Yessica, and to his surprise, Corina. They were yelling and motioning to him. “Go to the back gate!  The back gate!”  he shouted, and then he saw why they were running with such terrified expressions on their faces. They were being chased by zombified preschoolers around Drake’s age. ~ Rhiannon Frater,
789:A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons
Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions.
A Dog starv’d at his Master’s Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus’d upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fiber from the Brain does tear. ~ William Blake,
790:Intruding Aryan Jews & Romans (who carried Pharaoh's heritage into Palestine) plagiarized the Semitic culture to the point where they called a location there as the Giza Wheel (גַלגַל - i.e. Golgotha); which is a location just outside what they also termed as "the Lions Gate". The Judeo-Christian children are nothing but the heirs of ancient Egypt. ~ Ibrahim Ibrahim,
791:  Th' Angelic Guards ascended, mute and sad   For Man, for of his state by this they knew,   Much wondring how the suttle Fiend had stoln   Entrance unseen. Soon as th' unwelcome news   From Earth arriv'd at Heaven Gate, displeas'd   All were who heard, dim sadness did not spare   That time Celestial visages, yet mixt   With pitie, violated not thir bliss. ~ John Milton,
792:Throughout history the cross stands as a symbol of protest and revolt; protest against all claims, whether by religious or political power, to absolute unquestioning control over human minds and bodies; revolt against all systems and ideologies, all regimes and institutions, which continue to push individuals and groups beyond the pale, outside the gate. ~ Megan McKenna,
793:A Girl is gone! A Girl is lost! A simple Rustic Maiden but Yesterday swung upon the Pasture Gate, with Knowledge nowhere, yet is now, to-day, no better than her Mother, and her Mother's Mother before her! Soiled! Despoiled! Handled! Mauled! Rumpled! Rummaged! Ransacked! No purer than Fish in Sea, no sweater than Bird on Wing, no better than Beasts of Earth! ~ Djuna Barnes,
794:Now I am in the garden at the back . . . a very preserve of butterflies as I remember it, with a high fence, and a gate . . . where the fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than fruit has ever been since, in any other garden, and where my mother gathers some in a basket while I stand by, bolting furtive gooseberries, and trying to look unnerved. ~ Charles Dickens,
795:So they turned around and retraced their trip as morning dawned, eventually reentering the southern gate at Phu Bai. At about 8:30, more than four hours since they had been awakened to board the trucks and go south, they came barreling straight through the base and exited the north gate—confirming suspicion inside the trucks that no one in charge had a clue. ~ Mark Bowden,
796:The chief mystical text of Kabbalah, the Zohar, says that Malkhut is "the way to that great and powerful tree... 'If one does not enter through this gate, one cannot gain entry to the worlds,' the worlds of the sefirot. As we climb the Tree of Life-from the bottom to the top-we begin with Malkhut, the Mother.
   ~ Elizabeth Clare Prophet, Kabbalah: Key To Your Inner Power,
797:You just wait patiently like you always do in America among those apparently endless policemen and their endless laws against (no laws for) -- but the moment you cross the little wire gate and you're in Mexico, you feel like you just sneaked out of school when you told the teacher you were sick and she told you you could go home, 2 o'clock in the afternoon. ~ Jack Kerouac,
798:Perhaps passing through the gates of death is like passing quietly through the gate in a pasture fence. On the other side, you keep walking, without the need to look back. No shock, no drama, just the lifting of a plank or two in a simple wooden gate in a clearing. Neither pain, nor floods of light, nor great voices, but just the silent crossing of a meadow. ~ Mark Helprin,
799:That's my point, you dumb f-ing Mick. You're not just letting him poach on your turf--you're opening the gate and inviting him in...Why don't you just hand him a bouquet of roses and a box of f-ing condoms while you're at it, Jacko?"
"It's not like that," Jack said.
"No? Nadia is yours, and it's about time you had the balls to do something about it. ~ Kelley Armstrong,
800:The moment I saw the gate I had a strong thought to turn around and throw myself headfirst down the steep stone steps or just let myself free-fall backward into the pillowy softness of eternity, and it wouldn't matter if I bumped and bounced like a cabbage all the way down until I hit the bottom and then rolled out to sea, because at least I'd be safe and dead. ~ Ruth Ozeki,
801:Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare
Longam
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
~ Ernest Christopher Dowson,
802:Is it very different at home, or on the street, or waiting at the gate to board a flight? I maintain myself on the puppet drug of personal technology. Every touch of a button brings the neural rush of finding something I never knew and never needed to know until it appears at my anxious fingertips, where it remains for a shaky second before disappearing forever. ~ Don DeLillo,
803:She often spoke to falling seeds and said, "Ah hope you fall on soft ground," because she had heard seeds saying that to each other as they passed. The familiar people and things had failed her so she hung over the gate and looked up the road towards way off. She knew now that marriage did not make love. Janie's first dream was dead, so she became a woman. ~ Zora Neale Hurston,
804:After more than a thousand years," he continued, "an enemy finally broke through. Not because of superior firepower. Not because the Manchus were better fighters or strategists. They weren't. The Manchus breached the Great Wall and took Beijing because someone opened a gate. From the inside. As simple as that. A general, a traitor, let them in and an empire fell. ~ Louise Penny,
805:...healing comes not from being loving but from being itself. It is not a case of being clear but of clear being. This healing is not about anything else but being itself. Nothing separate, no edges, nothing to limit healing. Entering, in moments, the realm of pure being, the gateless gate swings open- beyond life and death, our original face shines back at us. ~ Stephen Levine,
806:The great light of compassion illuminates this world in every part As a boy Sudhana stood before the gates When your eyelids have fallen across the whole of the empty world the gate will open at the snap of a finger as it did then to let him pass [2205.jpg] -- from East Window: Poems from Asia, Translated by W. S. Merwin

~ Muso Soseki, The Gate of Universal Light
,
807:The honour of Jesus Christ is at stake in your bodily life. Are you remaining loyal to the Son of God in the things which beset His life in you? Do you continue to go with Jesus? The way lies through Gethsemane, through the city gate, outside the camp; the way lies alone, and the way lies until there is no trace of a footstep left, only the voice, 'Follow Me.' ~ Oswald Chambers,
808:Despite the late hour, fatigue, and aching joints from all the transportation, Sharko dragged himself to Roseraie Park, just opposite his building. A tradition, a habit, a need. Marc, the guard, was as usual watching one of his countless police shows. He opened the gate with the friendly smile you give to those you’re used to seeing without really knowing them. ~ Franck Thilliez,
809:...healing comes not from being loving but from being itself. It is not a case of being clear but of clear being. This healing is not about anything else but being itself. Nothing separate, no edges, nothing to limit healing. Entering, in moments, the realm of pure being, the gateless gate swings open-- beyond life and death, our original face shines back at us. ~ Stephen Levine,
810:Rain
Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
Sounds of cold-river rain grown familiar,
Autumn sun casts moist shadows. Below
Our brushwood gate, out to dry at the village
Mill: hulled rice, half-wet and fragrant.
~ Du Fu,
811:Why, would become the second mystery. The first was the 2,500-square-foot marijuana farm that Mr. Mondella had installed in a secret basement under the factory in Red Hook, Brooklyn, behind an unmarked roll-down gate, behind the cars, behind a pair of closet doors, behind a set of button-controlled shelves, behind a fake wall and down a ladder in a hole in the floor. ~ Anonymous,
812:She arches her body like a cat on a stretch. She nuzzles her cunt into my face like a filly at the gate. She smells of the sea. She smells of rockpools when I was a child. She keeps a starfish in there. I crouch down to taste the salt, to run my fingers around the rim. She opens and shuts like a sea anemone. She's refilled each day with fresh tides of longing. ~ Jeanette Winterson,
813:so, this evening, she said to my grandfather, “Yes, some day when the weather is fine I shall go for a drive as far as the gate of the park.” And in saying this she was quite sincere. She would have liked to see Swann and Tansonville again; but the mere wish to do so sufficed for all that remained of her strength, which its fulfilment would have more than exhausted ~ Marcel Proust,
814:1007
The Soul Selects Her Own Society
The Soul selects her own Society -Then -- shuts the Door -To her divine Majority -Present no more -Unmoved -- she notes the Chariots -- pausing -At her low Gate -Unmoved -- an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat -I've known her -- from an ample nation -Choose One -Then -- close the Valves of her attention -Like Stone -~ Emily Dickinson,
815:Airlines need staff to fly and maintain their aircraft. They need to pay applicable taxes and gate fees. They need to buy new planes, repair worn-out parts, manage their company pension plan, and everything else a service industry has to do. But by far, the largest chunk of their non-payroll operating budget goes to fuel. That's what costs the most for any given flight. ~ Andy Weir,
816:birth but wakes the spirit to the sense Of outward shows, whose unexperienced shape New modes of passion to its frame may lend; Life is its state of action, and the store Of all events is aggregated there That variegate the eternal universe; Death is a gate of dreariness and gloom, That leads to azure isles and beaming skies And happy regions of eternal hope. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
817:I have heard of a monk who in his cell had a glorious vision of Jesus revealed to him. Just then a bell rang, which called him away to distribute loaves of bread among the poor beggars at the gate. He was sorely tried as to whether he should lose a scene so inspiring. He went to his act of mercy; and when he came back the vision remained more glorious than ever. ~ Theodore L Cuyler,
818:I'm very careful with what I let my ear gate hear on my own. I don't care if I go out and something is playing that I wouldn't put on myself, that doesn't bother me but when I feed off and get nourishment from music, it's through things that are encouraging and lift me up, things that have integrity and purpose and that's what Christian Worship Music is all about. ~ Christian Hosoi,
819:Reality is the most effective mask of reality. Our fondest wish, attained, ceases to be our fondest wish. Success is the greatest of disappointments. The spirit is most alive when it is lost. Anxiety was Kafka's composure, as despair was Kierkegaard's happiness. Kafka said impatience is our greatest fault. The man at the gate of the Law waited there all of his life. ~ Guy Davenport,
820:We must be trained to clarify minds, heal broken hearts, and create homes where sunshine will make an environment in which mental and spiritual health may be nurtured. Our schooling must not only teach us how to bridge the Niagara River gorge, or the Golden Gate, but must teach us how to bridge the deep gaps of misunderstanding and hate and discord in the world. ~ Spencer W Kimball,
821:A few beasts have frozen to death in their posture of sleep. Yet they appear not dead so much as deep in meditation. No breath issues from them. Their bodies unmoving, their awareness swallowed in darkness. After all the other beasts have gone through the Gate, these dead remain like growths on the face of the earth. Their horns angle up into space, almost alive. I ~ Haruki Murakami,
822:Were not faster-than-the-speed-of-light generation. Were not even the Next-New-thing-Generation. Were the Soon-To-Be-Obselete kids, and we've crowded in here to hide from the future and the past. We know what's up-- the future looms ahead like a black-wrought iron gate and the past is charging after us like a badass Doberman, only this one doesn't have any let-up in him. ~ Tim Tharp,
823:Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. He knows where the Old Ones broke through of old, and where They shall break through again. He knows where They have trod earth's fields, and where They still tread them, and why no one can behold Them as They tread. ~ H P Lovecraft,
824:Either appear as you are
Or be as you appear
Be like the sun in compassion and mercy
Be like the light in covering others' shame
Be like a stream in generosity and beneficence
Be like earth in modesty and humility
Be like the sea in tolerance
Be like death in irritability and anger
Either appear as you are
Or be as you appear
The Dervish Gate ~ Ahmet mit,
825:At the hour of midnight the Salerian gate was silently opened, and the inhabitants were awakened by the tremendous sound of the Gothic trumpet. Eleven hundred and sixty-three years after the foundation of Rome, the Imperial city, which had subdued and civilised so considerable a part of mankind, was delivered to the licentious fury of the tribes of Germany and Scythia. ~ Edward Gibbon,
826:Every person encounters the open door here and there in the course of life, and it occurs to everyone at one time or another that everything visible is symbolic and that spirit and eternal life are living behind the symbol. Of course, very few people go through the gate and abandon the beautiful phenomenon of the outside world for the interior reality that they intuit. ~ Hermann Hesse,
827:I walk through the gate and into the courtyard.  Laney, bellissima Laney, is standing in a wooden vat in one of my dress shirts, unbuttoned and opened, so that her breasts and her black lace panties were partially exposed. Stunning. I stand and take her in, trying to calm the race my heart is running. “Are you going to stand there or are you going to join me?” She smiles. ~ M J Fields,
828:Lord Jesus,' Christy whispered, 'I want You to hold the key. I want You to decide what should happen in my heart's garden. I want You to let in or send out anything or anybody You want. Especially with guys. I don't want to ever unlock that gate again. I want you to open it only when the right man comes along. Take the key, Lord. Take all my keys. I'll wait for you. ~ Robin Jones Gunn,
829:The fact is in a city like Chicago, for example, unemployment in the black community is around 20 percent for adults, 35 percent for youth, they bail out the banks, public schools, there is a deep divide. We need a plan for reconstruction and redevelopment and I hope that - police are the gatekeepers but behind that gate are these problems of disparities and injustice. ~ Jesse Jackson,
830:If you clenched your right hand in a fist, that would be my San Francisco, knocking on the Golden Gate. Your little finger would be sunny downtown on the bay, and your thumb would be our Ocean Beach out on the blue Pacific. They called it the Sunset...It sat on the very edge of the continent, with fog so dense and silver you hardly ever saw a sunset in the Sunset... ~ Andrew Sean Greer,
831:Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house;
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night;
Hallo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out "Olivia!" O, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth
But you should pity me ~ William Shakespeare,
832:two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the gate to search you if they choose, and to keep out Monks and Ladies. For, Sanctity as well as Beauty has been known to yield to the temptation of smuggling, and in the same way: that is to say, by concealing the smuggled property beneath the loose folds of its dress. So Sanctity and Beauty may, by no means, enter. ~ Charles Dickens,
833:We were alone together for three days, we knew no one in the city, I could be anyone, say anything, do anything. I felt like a war prisoner who's suddenly been released by an invading army and told that he can start heading home now, no forms to fill out, no debriefing, no questions asked, no buses, no gate passes, no clean clothes to stand in line for—just start walking. ~ Andr Aciman,
834:As he pushed her by the shoulder toward the gate, the rising howl commenced. Nightmares had beome a science. Someone, a mere human, had taken the time to dream up this satanic howling. And what success! It was the sound of panic itself, mounting and straining toward the extinction they all knew, individually, to be theirs. It was a sound you were obliged to take personally. ~ Ian McEwan,
835:She felt hands seize her as the soldiers who hadn’t been knocked down fell upon her in a wave, trying to wrestle her to the ground. They were kindling in her hands, insubstantial. She threw them off, and one struck the temple’s gate hard enough to buckle the stone pillar. Is this all you are? something inside her demanded. Cowards clutching your guns? Give me a challenge. ~ Leigh Bardugo,
836:Flight 2039 to Boston is now boarding at gate 14A," a voice announced over the PA system.
Nellie sighed. "I love Irish accents." She paused. "And Australian accents. And English accents." A dreamy look came over her face. "Theo had an awesome accent."
Dan snorted. "Yeah, there was just that one tiny problem. He turned out to be a two-timing, backstabbing thief. ~ Rick Riordan,
837:Make me a willow cabin at your gate
And call upon my soul within the house.
Write loyal cantons of contemned love
And sing them loud even in the dead of night.
Halloo your name to the reverberate hills
And make the babbling gossip of the air
Cry out “Olivia!” Oh, you should not rest
Between the elements of air and earth,
But you should pity me. ~ William Shakespeare,
838:Renovating temples does not mean building great gate towers or receptacles for offerings. What we should focus on is the regular conduct of worship according to tradition, regular satsang, devotional singing, and so forth. Our devotion and faith give life to temples, not rituals and ceremonies. Children, we should remember this when we are involved in temple matters. ~ Mata Amritanandamayi,
839:The guy selling programs just outside Gate A pauses just long enough in his spiel to ask me how I'm feeling. I tell him I'm feeling fine. He says, 'Do you thank God?' I tell him, 'Every day.' He says, 'Right on, brotha," and goes back to telling people how much they need a program, how much they need a scorecard, just two dollars unless you're a Yankee fan, then you pay four. ~ Stephen King,
840:The guy selling programs just outside Gate A pauses just long enough in his spiel to ask me how I'm feeling. I tell him I'm feeling fine. He says, 'Do you thank God?' I tell him, 'Every day.' He says, 'Right on, brotha,' and goes back to telling people how much they need a program, how much they need a scorecard, just two dollars unless you're a Yankee fan, then you pay four. ~ Stephen King,
841:The Riddle was old, for it was as old as the Gate, and the Gate had guarded the head of the Valley since men first walked upon the World. The words of the Riddle were an ancient secret, passed down from father to son, from grandfather to grandson, from uncle to nephew, and – in at least one case – from the most distrusted old man in the village to his worryingly young “friend”. ~ Jonny Nexus,
842:Charlie Rose is too much of a ladies' man for my liking. He thinks a lot of himself with his bluer-than-blue eyes and charming smile. I'm sure in his day he's enchanted more women than we have horses."
Nell gave the mare a quick hug and kissed her neck. "Sorry again, Georgia." With a lighthearted chuckle, she stepped through the gate.
And came face-to-face with Charlie. ~ Caroline Fyffe,
843:There was the gate next, which she(Liesel)clung to. A gang of tears trudged from her eyes as she held on and refused to go inside. People started to gather on the street, until Rosa Hubermann swore at them, after which they reversed back whence they came.
~ Markus ZusakA TRANSLATION OF ROSA HUBERMANN’S ANNOUNCEMENT~ Markus Zusak

‘What are you arseholes looking at? ~ Markus Zusak,
844:Children who begin working at an early age with music have, as habit, much less pre-attentional or unconscious gating in the neural network that attends to sound. Gating, in general, develops over time and with exposure, the pre-attentional self learning to gate whatever is not important to the conscious mind. Children, by nature, have much less gating than adults—gating ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
845:We’d been walking in endless rectangles and now we were near the candy store again. The lights were out, the security gate down. We leaned up against the wall of a bank and I could feel the cool stone on my back, the billions of dollars thrumming through wires beneath and behind me, or on the night waves above. I wasn’t quite sure how they traveled. Or how much they got out anymore. ~ Sam Lipsyte,
846:What happens beyond this gate may frighten or excite you, but don’t let any of it trick you. We will try to convince you it’s real, but all of it is a performance. A world built of make-believe. So while we want you to get swept away, be careful of being swept too far away. Dreams that come true can be beautiful, but they can also turn into nightmares when people won’t wake up. ~ Stephanie Garber,
847:For every first-class dog that entered the lifeboats, twenty-nine steerage women and nineteen children died. Emily Badman and Kathy Gilnagh seemed destined to be counted among the lost, having found themselves penned in behind a drawn gate, deep within the stern. An armed, junior officer stood on the other side. "Following orders," he insisted. "It's not time for you to go up. ~ Charles Pellegrino,
848:Her fingers travel back to the cathedral spire. South to the Gate of Dinan. All evening she has been marching her fingers around the model, waiting for her great-uncle Etienne, who owns this house, who went out the previous night while she slept, and who has not returned. And now it is night again, another revolution of the clock, and the whole block is quiet, and she cannot sleep. ~ Anthony Doerr,
849:How the stars shone. How sweet the earth smelled. The orchard gate creaked, and a footstep pressed on the sand. And she entered, fragrant as a flower, and fell into my arms. Oh, sweet kisses, lingering caresses. Slowly, trembling, I gazed upon her beauty. Now my dream of true love is lost forever. My last hour has flown, and I die, hopeless, and never have I loved life more.” They ~ Veronica Rossi,
850:She can't afford to commit more troops,' Holly whispered. 'The gate is her priority, and she needs to have as many Berserkers watching her back as possible. We are secondary at this point.' 'That will be her undoing,' Artemis gasped, already suffering under the weight of the flak jacket. 'Artemis Fowl will never be secondary.' 'I thought you were Artemis Fowl the Second?' said Holly. ~ Eoin Colfer,
851:On a fading summer evening, late in the last hours of his old life, Peter Jaxon-son of Demetrius and Prudence Jaxon, First Family; descendent of Terrence Jaxon, signatory of the One Law; great-great-nephew of the one known as Auntie, Last of the First; Peter of Souls, the Man of Days and the One Who Stood-took his position on the catwalk above Main Gate, waiting to kill his brother. ~ Justin Cronin,
852:On a fading summer evening, late in the last hours of his old life, Peter Jaxon—son of Demetrius and Prudence Jaxon, First Family; descendent of Terrence Jaxon, signatory of the One Law; great-great-nephew of the one known as Auntie, Last of the First; Peter of Souls, the Man of Days and the One Who Stood—took his position on the catwalk above Main Gate, waiting to kill his brother. ~ Justin Cronin,
853:Mary Poppins walked down the garden path and opened the gate. Once outside in the Lane, she set off walking very quickly as if she were afraid the afternoon would run away from her if she didn’t keep up with it. At the corner she turned to the right and then to the left, nodded haughtily to the Policeman, who said it was a nice day, and by that time she felt that her Day Out had begun. ~ P L Travers,
854:You get them to the main gate, don't stop until you're outside," Bell tells her, then turns, directing his words at the others. "You understand? All of you, follow Lilac. Follow Lilac. Don't stop. Run."
"Lily runs," the girl says softly. "Lilac dances."
"Not today," Lilac says. "Today, we run so fast that Lily won't believe it when we tell her. Right?"
The girl nods, wide-eyed. ~ Greg Rucka,
855:But there are no safe spaces. 'Home' can be unsafe and dangerous because it bears the likelihood of intimacy and thus thinner boundaries. Staying 'home' and not venturing out from our group comes from woundedness, and stagnates our growth. To bridge means loosening our borders, not closing off to others. Bridging is the work of opening the gate to the stranger, within and without. ~ Gloria E Anzald a,
856:I like perfume.” “Perfume?” he repeated with mock outrage. “Do you have any idea what it will be like for a man with my reputation to purchase perfume? The humiliation alone will cause ticks and tremors. I’ll be lucky if I survive such a thing.” She giggled as they began their walk back towards the gate house. “You are a strong man.  You will endure.” “You are very cruel.” “I know. ~ Kathryn Le Veque,
857:I'm sad. Pressed down by sorrow. I'm angry. Pissed at God, if there is one, and the way things are. I'm scared. Confused by the whys. Why are we here? Is there, really, some intelligent design? Why do we cry for someone who leaves us if there's some Grand Pearly Gate in the sky? Why worry about how we build our lives if the ultimate ending for all is death, a single breath away? (358) ~ Ellen Hopkins,
858:The weather in Paris was unusually warm as Peter Haskell’s plane landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport. The plane taxied neatly to the gate, and a few minutes later, briefcase in hand, Peter was striding through the airport. He was almost smiling as he got on the customs line, despite the heat of the day and the number of people crowding ahead of him in line. Peter Haskell loved Paris. ~ Danielle Steel,
859:It was nearing 9 O'clock, and the fist duck was drawing down. Behind the trees, the first star pricked out, low and brilliant. The light breeze of the day had dropped, and the evening was very still. The stream sounded loud. I walked down to the gate and stood leaning on the top bar, enjoying the scent of the roses, and straining to listen for any sound from the lane or the road beyond. ~ Mary Stewart,
860:Our Journey Had Advanced;
Our journey had advanced;
Our feet were almost come
To that odd fork in Being's road,
Eternity by term.
Our pace took sudden awe,
Our feet reluctant led.
Before were cities, but between,
The forest of the dead.
Retreat was out of hope,-Behind, a sealed route,
Eternity's white flag before,
And God at every gate.
~ Emily Dickinson,
861:The saints have said, "Even suppose God, should forgive thee, after a wasted life, thou wilt not attain to the ranks of the righteous and must deplore thy loss; therefore keep a strict, watch over thy tongue, thine eye, and each of thy seven members, for each of these is, as it, were, a possible gate to hell. Say to thy flesh, 'If thou art rebellious, verily I will punish thee'; ~ Abu Hamid al-Ghazali,
862:Well, Matthew mused, perhaps the boy of five years ago could neither plot a war nor win it. But the man of today might find a method to end Ausley’s reign of terror. It was worth putting one’s thoughts to, wasn’t it? Matthew stared for a moment at the closed gate, beyond which lay both an ending and a beginning. Then he turned his mount, his face, and his mind toward the century of wonders. ~ Anonymous,
863:It is very seldom that any one is in prison for an ordinary crime unless early in life he entered a path that almost invariably led to the prison gate. Most of the inmates are the children of the poor. In many instances they are either orphans or half-orphans; their homes were the streets and byways of big cities, and their paths naturally and inevitably took them to their final fate. ~ Lyndon B Johnson,
864:She can't afford to commit more troops,' Holly whispered. 'The gate is her priority, and she needs to have as many Berserkers watching her back as possible. We are secondary at this point.'
'That will be her undoing,' Artemis gasped, already suffering under the weight of the flak jacket. 'Artemis Fowl will never be secondary.'
'I thought you were Artemis Fowl the Second?' said Holly. ~ Eoin Colfer,
865:to shriek and to slam the door shut repeatedly—with a deafening clang each time—until the keeper, notified by a visitor, hurried over to remedy the situation. A herd of roe-deer in a European zoo stepped out of their corral when the gate was left open. Frightened by visitors, the deer bolted for the nearby forest, which had its own herd of wild roe-deer and could support more. Nonetheless, ~ Yann Martel,
866:A bar, as any good dictionary will tell you, is a rod of wood or iron that can be used to fasten a gate. From this came the idea of a bar as any let or hindrance that can stop you going where you want to; specifically the bar in a pub or tavern is the bar-rier behind which is stored all the lovely intoxicating liquors that only the bar-man is allowed to lay is hands on without forking out. ~ Mark Forsyth,
867:Staying At Bamboo
an evening sitting under
the eaves of the pines
at night sleeping
in Bamboo Lodge
the sky so clear you'd say
it was drugs
meditation so deep, thought
I'd gone home to the hills
but Clever can't beat
Stupid
and Quick won't match
Quiet
Untoiling-ness!
(you just can't pave the Way)
that's it!
the Gate of Mystery!
~ Bai Juyi,
868:We’re not the Faster-than-the-Speed-of-Light Generation anymore. We’re not even the Next-New-Thing Generation. We’re the Soon-to-Be-Obsolete Kids, and we’ve crowded in here to hide from the future and the past. We know what’s up – the future looms straight ahead like a black wrought-iron gate and the past is charging after us like a badass Doberman, only this one doesn’t have any letup in him. ~ Tim Tharp,
869:The house lies on the outskirts of the desert community, lone and isolated. A strong wind blows over the surrounding land, swirling dust demons across the darkness of the fields. In the black of sky, a million stars tremble around the full moon. In the split rail fence encircling the large yard, the front gate stands open; as the wind moves it, the wood seems to be alive, shivering. He ~ Alexandra Sokoloff,
870:You can find your way across this country using burger joint the way a navigatior uses stars....We have munched Bridge burgers in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge and Cable burgers hard by the Golden Gate, Dixie burgers in the sunny South and Yankee Doodle burgers in the North....We had a Capitol Burger - guess where. And so help us, in the inner courtyard of the Pentagon, a Penta burger. ~ Charles Kuralt,
871:You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep. ~ E E Cummings,
872:One soft humid early spring morning driving a winding road across Mount Tamalpais, the 2,500-foot mountain just north of the Golden Gate Bridge, a bend reveals a sudden vision of San Francisco in shades of blue, a city in a dream, and I was filled with a tremendous yearning to live in that place of blue hills and blue buildings, though I do live there, I had just left there after breakfast. ~ Rebecca Solnit,
873:Those who dedicate themselves to the processes of discipline and self improvement set down by the old masters, are preparing themselves to enter the house of wisdom by the proper gate. On the other hand, such foolish mortals as believe they can breathe, chant, intone, psychologize or affirm themselves into a state of all knowing are trying to pick locks for which they have not filed the key. ~ Manly P Hall,
874:1015
The Spry Arms Of The Wind
The spry Arms of the Wind
If I could crawl between
I have an errand imminent
To an adjoining Zone I should not care to stop
My Process is not long
The Wind could wait without the Gate
Or stroll the Town among.
To ascertain the House
And is the soul at Home
And hold the Wick of mine to it
To light, and then return ~ Emily Dickinson,
875:Exclusion (The Soul Selects Her Own Society)
The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
~ Emily Dickinson,
876:Teddy thought of his wife and his sister as two sides of the same shining coin. Nancy was an idealist, Ursula a realist; Nancy an optimist with a lively heart, while Ursula’s spirit was freighted with the grief of history. Ursula was forever cast out of Eden and making the best of it while Nancy, cheerful and undaunted, was sure her search for the gate back into the garden would be successful. ~ Kate Atkinson,
877:A Barna poll shows that for every American who believes he or she is going to Hell, there are 120 who believe they’re going to Heaven.[4] Yet Christ said otherwise: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matthew 7:13-14). ~ Randy Alcorn,
878:Overnight At The Riverside Tower
Evening colors linger on mountain paths.
Out beyond this study perched over River Gate,
At the cliff's edge, frail clouds stay
All night. Among waves, a lone, shuddering
Moon. As cranes trail off in flight, silent,
Wolves snarl over their kill. I brood on
Our wars, sleepless here and, to right
A relentless Heaven and Earth, powerless.
~ Du Fu,
879:She knew that God tore down the old world every evening and built a new one by sun-up. It was wonderful to see it take form with the sun and emerge from the gray dust of its making. The familiar people and things had failed her so she hung over the gate and looked up the road towards way off. She knew now that marriage did not make love. Janie's first dream was dead, so she became a woman. ~ Zora Neale Hurston,
880:I do a lot of counting. Cigarette butts, trees, fence slats, clouds, or the number of paving stones between one phone pole and the next, the windows along the way to the bus stop in the morning, the pedestrians I see from the bus between one stop and the next, red ties on an afternoon in the city. How many steps from the office to the factory gate. I count to keep the world in order, I said. Paul ~ Herta M ller,
881:The Way, the Taoist path of life, is represented by (or exists on) the border between the twin serpents. The Way is the path of proper Being. It’s the same Way as that referred to by Christ in John 14:6: I am the way, and the truth and the life. The same idea is expressed in Matthew 7:14: Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. ~ Jordan Peterson,
882:Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose ~ T S Eliot,
883:Mercy’s platoon hastily established a strongpoint near the Rubbish Gate and held off all three cohorts. Most of our men were killed, but none ran. Mercy himself lost an eye, a finger, was wounded in shoulder and hip, and had more than a hundred holes in his shield when help arrived. He came to me more dead than alive. In the end, the mutineers scattered rather than face the rest of the Black Company. ~ Glen Cook,
884:Cutter and I were there when they opened the Sycamore Glen pool for the summer. So I actually saw, with my own eyes, the spider web that was woven across the gate, keeping all the people from just walking right on in like they’d done every year. Our new neighbors shuffled their feet and sighed real loud as they waited for the lifeguards to figure out what to do. They held their towels and ~ Marybeth Mayhew Whalen,
885:The Way, the Taoist path of life, is represented by (or exists on) the border between the twin serpents. The Way is the path of proper Being. It’s the same Way as that referred to by Christ in John 14:6: I am the way, and the truth and the life. The same idea is expressed in Matthew 7:14: Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it. ~ Jordan B Peterson,
886:I, Lalla, willingly entered through the garden-gate, There, O Joy! I found Siva united with Sakti; There and then I got absorbed drinking at the Lake of Nectar. Immune to harm am I, dead as I am to the world, though still alive. [bk1sm.gif] -- from The Ascent of Self: A Reinterpretation of the Mystical Poetry of Lalla-Ded, by B. N. Paramoo

~ Lalla, I, Lalla, willingly entered through the garden-gate
,
887:old man. He turned his head and looked north and south along the road and then craned his thick neck to glance back over his shoulder at the college gate. He was thirty yards away from me. The college gate itself was purely a ceremonial thing. Two tall brick pillars just rose up from a long expanse of tended lawn behind the sidewalk. Connecting the pillars was a high double gate made from iron bars bent ~ Lee Child,
888:The Gate, which I suppose we must now call Kurald Galain, is an iteration of control,’ Caladan replied, ‘over a force that was and remains pervasive, existing as it does in opposition to Chaos.’ ‘To Chaos? Not Light?’ ‘Light, if you would consider this, is an absolution of Chaos. In its purity it finds order, with substance and hue. This is how Chaos seeks, in its own fashion, its own obliteration. ~ Steven Erikson,
889:There is usually a huge relief that accompanies being in the Underworld, when we have done a thorough Descent. It is impossible to explain this properly before it happens. All that trauma, relinquishing everything at gate after gate and then – how can there be peace? How stillness? How serenity? Everything else has run out, been used up, paid as a price to enter this place and there is nothing left. ~ Jane Meredith,
890:To be a poet, I realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity. To be a true poet is to become God.    I tried to explain this to my friends on Heaven’s Gate. “Piss, shit,” I said. “Asshole motherfucker, goddamn shit goddamn. Cunt. Pee-pee cunt. Goddamn! ~ Dan Simmons,
891:LEONATO
Well, then, go you into hell?

BEATRICE
No, but to the gate; and there will the devil meet me, like an old cuckold, with horns on his head, and say 'Get you to heaven, Beatrice, get you to heaven; here's no place for you maids:' so deliver I up my apes, and away to Saint Peter for the heavens; he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long. ~ William Shakespeare,
892:The man that I named The Giver passed along to the boy knowledge, history, memories, color, pain, laughter, love, and truth. Every time you place a book in the hands of a child, you do the same thing. It is very risky. But each time a child opens a book, he pushes open the gate that separates him from Elsewhere. It gives him choices. It gives him freedom. Those are magnificent, wonderfully unsafe things. ~ Lois Lowry,
893:Kingsley smiled his Cheshire smile. And without a word, he called up the white darkness - the subvertio - a spell that unlocked what could not be unlocked, that destroyed what could not be destroyed. There was a rumbling, a shaking, like the strongest earthquake, and the iron gate crumbled, and the path began to melt. the demon shrieked, but Kingsley just looked at Mimi the entire time. "Azrael... ~ Melissa de la Cruz,
894:There’s Father a-standing at the yard-gate,” said Martin Poyser. “I reckon he wants to watch us down the field. It’s wonderful what sight he has, and him turned seventy-five.” “Ah, I often think it’s wi’ th’ old folks as it is wi’ the babbies,” said Mrs. Poyser; “they’re satisfied wi’ looking, no matter what they’re looking at. It’s God A’mighty’s way o’ quietening ‘em, I reckon, afore they go to sleep. ~ George Eliot,
895:How many people would like to be good, if only they might be good without taking trouble about it! They do not like goodness well enough to hunger and thirst after it, or to sell all that they have that they may buy it; they will not batter at the gate of the kingdom of heaven; but they look with pleasure on this or that aerial castle of righteousness, and think it would be rather nice to live in it. ~ George MacDonald,
896:It may here be observed, that all who are offended by us are exposed to our view. But the rich man sees Lazarus not with any other righteous man, but in Abraham's bosom. For Abraham was full of love, but the man is convicted of cruelty. Abraham sitting before his door followed after those that passed by, and brought them into his house, the other turned away even them that abode within his gate. ~ Saint John Chrysostom,
897:One of our friends asked Fred about his thoughts on heaven when she was taking a walk with him on a Nantucket beach a few years ago. I’ll bet there was a twinkle in his eye when he told her, “Oh, I think there will be a lot of people surprised to see who’s there!” Fred would never want anyone to think they might not be worthy of getting through heaven’s gate. His God loved everyone—just the way they were! ~ Fred Rogers,
898:Those without the gate frequently question the wisdom and right of the occultist to guard his knowledge by the imposition of oaths of secrecy. We are so accustomed to see the scientist give his beneficent discoveries freely to all mankind that we feel that humanity is wronged and defrauded if any knowledge be kept secret by its discoverers and not at once made available for all who desire to share in it. ~ Dion Fortune,
899:The Return From Town
As I sat down by Saddle Stream
To bathe my dusty feet there,
A boy was standing on the bridge
Any girl would meet there.
As I went over Woody Knob
A youth was coming up the hill
Any maid would follow.
Then in I turned at my own gate,—
And nothing to be sad for—
To such a man as any WIFE
Would pass a pretty lad for.
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay,
900:Kingsley smiled his Cheshire smile. And without a word, he called up the white darkness—the subvertio—a spell that unlocked what could not be unlocked, that destroyed what could not be destroyed.
There was a rumbling, a shaking, like the strongest earthquake, and the iron gate crumbled, and the path began to melt. the demon shrieked, but Kingsley just looked at Mimi the entire time.
"Azrael... ~ Melissa de la Cruz,
901:There’s life in his face again. It occurs to me that this is the best thing I could have done, it’s actually a great way to leave, because it’s giving Gavin the message that we haven’t been defeated, we are up for it, we’re young, we’re in control of our lives again, we can charge into the future with confidence. When we round the corner of the driveway I take his hand and we run down to the gate together. ~ John Marsden,
902:Can you have forgotten that funny old Lilygloves, the chief mole, leaning on his spade and saying, ‘Believe me, your Majesty, you’ll be glad of these fruit trees one day.’ And by Jove he was right.”
“I do! I do!” said Lucy, and clapped her hands.
“But look here, Peter,” said Edmund. “This must be all rot. To begin with, we didn’t plant the orchard slap up against the gate. We wouldn’t have been such fools. ~ C S Lewis,
903:Hutch
of her arms, this was her sin:
where the wood berries bin
of forest was new and full,
she crept out by its tall
posts, those wooden legs,
and heard the sound of wild pigs.
calling and did not wait nor care.
The leaves wept in her hair
as she sank to a pit of needles
and twisted out the ivyless
gate, where the wood berries bin
was full and a pig came in.
~ Anne Sexton,
904:The world of reality exists. The world of fantasy exists. The great boundary between the world of reality and the world of fantasy is the boundary of pleasure and fallacy. So many people enter into the world of realities through the the gate of betrayal and pain of the world of fantasies. If you live in the world of fantasies, ponder!If you live in the world of realities, learn and use your lessons. ~ Ernest Agyemang Yeboah,
905:They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld Of Paradise, so late their happy seat, Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms: Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon; The world was all before them, where to choose Their place of rest, and Providence their guide; They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, Through Eden took their solitary way. ~ John Milton,
906:But they were beautiful. When they died, rippling in rainbow colors, their many-hued messages unseen, unheard by their fleeing herdmates, the beauty of their death agony was beyond words. We sold their photoreceptive skins to Web corporations, their flesh to worlds like Heaven’s Gate, and ground their bones to powder to sell as aphrodisiacs to the impotent and superstitious on a score of other colony worlds. On ~ Dan Simmons,
907:THE MONASTERY GATE was as weak as Finn surmised, the timbers splintering after three strong kicks from Finn’s boot. Using his spear as a wedge, he ripped and tore the rotted wood away until there was a large enough hole to pass through. After ducking and looking, he went first, leaping nimbly through the gap. Cnán followed, more readily and eagerly than she had anticipated, and Yasper came close on her heels. ~ Neal Stephenson,
908:Brutes find out where their talents lie; A bear will not attempt to fly, A foundered horse will oft debate Before he tries a five barred gate. A dog by instinct turns aside Who sees the ditch too deep and wide, But man we find the only creature Who, led by folly, combats nature; Who, when she loudly cries-Forbear! With obstinacy fixes there; And where the genius least inclines, Absurdly bends his whole designs. ~ Jonathan Swift,
909:No one has heard from him in countless centuries. For all we know, the Grizzly might have killed him when he behind the Gate or he could have possessed him. You have no idea what the Grizzly is capable of. Trust me. We have to stop them from opening that jar. If the Grizzly gets out again–” – Ren
“It’ll be a fun time in Disneyland. Y’all think we could arm Mickey? He might be badass with a gun.” – Sundown ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
910:Now No-One Will Be Listening To Songs
Now no-one will be listening to songs.
The days long prophesied have come to pass.
The world has no more miracles. Don't break
My heart, song, but be still: you are the last.
Not long ago you took your morning flight
With all a swallow's free accomplishment.
Now that you are a hungry beggar-woman,
Don't go knocking at the stranger's gate.
~ Anna Akhmatova,
911:Haplo: ‘single, alone.’ That is your name and your destiny,” said his father, his finger rough and hard on Haplo’s chest. “Your mother and I have defeated the odds thrown for us already. Every Gate we pass from now on is a wink at fate. But the time will come when the Labyrinth will claim us, as it claims all except the lucky and the strong. And the lucky and the strong are generally the lonely. Repeat your name. ~ Margaret Weis,
912:This guy is an epic douche. Kick his shiny ass, Atticus, Oberon said.
I compartmentalized his comment and resolved to enjoy it later. I glared at this would be usurper and said in my most authoritative voice, "Aenghus Og, you have broken Druidic law by killing the land around us and opening a gate to hell, unleashing demons on this plane. I judge you guilty and sentence you to death."
Amen, Atticus! Testify! ~ Kevin Hearne,
913:O why doe wretched men so much desire,
To draw their dayes vnto the vtmost date,
And doe not rather wish them soone expire,
Knowing the miserie of their estate,
And thousand perills which them still awate,
Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne,
That euery houre they knocke at deathes gate?
And he that happie seemes and least in payne,
Yet is as nigh his end, as he that most doth playne. ~ Edmund Spenser,
914:I don’t want to be a challenge, either; don’t want to be an alarm system and floodlights and a gate that makes someone want to test his skill and wit against it. I just want to be a big dog in the yard. Next time you come ’round, the dog might be inside. Might be at the vet, might be mama’s li’l puddin’ pup and no threat to anyone at all, but might also take a chunk out of your leg, and so better to try elsewhere. ~ S Bear Bergman,
915:The subtleties of inner-sanctum passes are a degree subject in their own right. Access All Areas means about halfway in, VIP one level further. A laminate trumps a stick-on and a green dot lets you through another gate. After that it helps if you are either part of the show, a family member, or have that demented look that ensures that there are always a few lunatics who make it to where they absolutely should not be. ~ Nick Mason,
916:Claybourne grabbed his arm, stopping his forward movement. “Do we have a plan?”
“Get Emma out alive and I don’t care who the hell dies in the bloody process.” Breaking free of the hold, Swindler began running toward the gate.
“I do hope he’s not including us in the ‘who the hell dies’ arena,” he heard Greystone mutter.
“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you,” Dodger responded. “I do believe the man’s in love. ~ Lorraine Heath,
917:Not that either he or Kaden was lazy. They were both always eager to pitch in, Kaden fixing the wheel on Berdi’s wagon without any prompting, and Rafe proving himself as an experienced farmhand, clearing the trenches in Berdi’s vegetable garden and repairing its sticky sluice gate. Gwyneth and I both watched with more than a little interest as he swung the hoe and lifted heavy rocks to reinforce the channel. Perhaps, ~ Mary E Pearson,
918:She watched the children and he watched her face as she tried to process everything she had just learned. She was innocent; that was true. But there was intelligence in those large eyes. She picked up things very, very quickly. It was more than Aladdin could usually say about those who weren't Street Rats. What a waste, for some father to trap such a smart, interesting girl behind a garden gate, like a prized animal... ~ Liz Braswell,
919:1280
You'Re Right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
~ Emily Dickinson,
920:The life of a poet lies not merely in the finite language-dance of expression but in the nearly infinite combinations of perception and memory combined with the sensitivity to what is perceived and remembered. My three local years on Heaven’s Gate, almost fifteen hundred standard days, allowed me to see, to feel, to hear ─ to remember, as if I literally had been born again. Little matter that I had been born again in hell. ~ Dan Simmons,
921:Prison is a severe and terrible punishment; but for me, thanks to Arthur Balfour, this was not so. I was much cheered on my arrival by the warder at the gate, who had to take particulars about me. He asked my religion, and I replied 'agnostic.' He asked how to spell it, and remarked with a sigh: 'Well, there are many religions, but I suppose they all worship the same God.' This remark kept me cheerful for about a week. ~ Bertrand Russell,
922:Preparedness
Right must not live in idleness,
Nor dwell in smug content;
It must be strong, against the throng
Of foes, on evil bent.
Justice must not a weakling be
But it must guard its own,
And live each day, that none can say
Justice is overthrown.
Peace, the sweet glory of the world,
Faces a duty, too;
Death is her fate, leaves she one gate
For war to enter through.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,
923:The day dawns; the morning star is bright upon the horizon! The iron gate of our prison stands half open. One gallant rush from the North will fling it wide open, while four millions of our brothers and sisters shall march out into liberty. The chance is now given you to end in a day the bondage of centuries, and to rise in one bound from social degradation to the place of common equality with all other varieties of men. ~ Frederick Douglass,
924:The Lights..." said Norv the Raw, as if we might not have noticed.
Before any further statements of the obvious could be made doors of gleaming steel started to slide down from recesses above every entrance above the Gilden Gate. The action accompanied by a squealing noise that set my teeth on edge, the sound of nails down Lundist's chalkboard.
"The doors..." said Norv. I resisted temptation to beat him around the head. ~ Mark Lawrence,
925:It was somewhere between being awake and being asleep—a netherworld of sorts. That was the only explanation for why he was walking in a park, through a large baseball field with short, recently cut grass. No one cuts grass anymore. Slowly, the sights became familiar, and he pieced together the evidence. There, a gazebo surrounded by hurricane fencing, with a sign across the entrance gate reading: “Gazebo Reservations Available. ~ Sam Sisavath,
926:Chapter One The weather in Paris was unusually warm as Peter Haskell’s plane landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport. The plane taxied neatly to the gate, and a few minutes later, briefcase in hand, Peter was striding through the airport. He was almost smiling as he got on the customs line, despite the heat of the day and the number of people crowding ahead of him in line. Peter Haskell loved Paris. He generally traveled to Europe ~ Danielle Steel,
927:One presenter was reporting on the fatal shooting of a suspected organized crime figure behind a downtown strip club, which involved much breathless speculation laid over meaningless pictures, mostly of the closed gate in the pink fence, above a ticker that said Moscow Comes to Phoenix, which Reacher figured would annoy Ukrainians everywhere, the two countries being entirely separate now, and proud of it, at least in one direction. ~ Lee Child,
928:Reading the very best writers—let us say Homer, Dante, Shakespeare, Tolstoy—is not going to make us better citizens. Art is perfectly useless, according to the sublime Oscar Wilde, who was right about everything. He also told us that all bad poetry is sincere. Had I the power to do so, I would command that these words be engraved above every gate at every university, so that each student might ponder the splendor of the insight. ~ Harold Bloom,
929:Rooks have clustered on either side of the long road. It is as if they line a grand parade route for our passage. Their black feathers are stark as soot against the white road and the snow. They stab at the ground with their strange bare bills and gray unfeathered faces. The birds are like rough-edged black stones on a string around this stripped cold neck of road. The old books tell us rooks bring the virtuous dead to heaven’s gate. ~ Ned Hayes,
930:Through Heaven's Gate and Back speaks to all of us that have been abused as children. Lee Thornton's descriptions of the aftereffects of repeated trauma and a profound Near-Death Experience (NDE) are not only true but explained in a way that the reader can take in. It is rare to find a book so well written that it has both sexual abuse and an NDE under one cover. We definitely will be recommending this book to our patients. ~ Charles L Whitfield,
931:They said no man was an island, and Anita figured that was probably true. But women were; they had to be. And even if someone bothered to sail over and disembark, he'd soon discover that there was always a castle at the center of the island, surrounded by a deep moat, with a rickety drawbridge and archers manning the battlements and a big pot of oil posed above the gate, ready to boil alive anyone who dared to cross the threshold. ~ Tommy Wallach,
932:I had been for some hours extremely pressed by the necessities of nature; which was no wonder, it being almost two days since I had last disburdened myself. I was under great difficulties between urgency and shame. The best expedient I could think of, was to creep into my house, which I accordingly did; and shutting the gate after me, I went as far as the length of my chain would suffer, and discharged my body of that uneasy load. ~ Jonathan Swift,
933:It is so easy to practice a creditable degree of so seeming virtue, and so difficult to purify and direct the affections of the heart, that I feel myself in continual danger of appearing better than I am; and I verily believe it is possible to make one’s whole life a display of splendid virtue and agreeable qualities, without ever setting foot towards the narrow path, or even one’s face towards the strait gate.” – Hannah More ~ Karen Swallow Prior,
934:They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,
Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful faces thronged and fiery arms:
Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them soon;
The world was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide;
They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary way. ~ John Milton,
935:I spoke the hardest words and almost broke:
'There is another kinsman still
More close to you than I. He will
Be given legal right to take
You if he will. Tomorrow make
Your prayer, and I will settle this
With elder in the gate.' No kiss
That night. But when she left, still dark,
She took my hand and drew and arc
And said, 'The God of Exodus
And flood at dawn will fight for us.'
That was our only touch. ~ John Piper,
936:Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate-posts and paving-stones along the weary road that others have tramped before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us. ~ Evelyn Waugh,
937:Questioning the Chrysanthemums
by River Queen Since none else autumn’s mystery can explain,
I come with murmured questions to your gate:
Who, world-disdainer, shares your hiding-place?
Of all the flowers why do yours bloom so late?
The garden silent lies in frosty dew;
The geese return; the cricket mourns his fate.
Let not speech from your silent world be banned:
Converse with me, since me you understand! ~ Cao Xueqin,
938:I still to this day maintain that in that million-and-a-half feet of film [Heaven's Gate] that we shot, we thought we were making a great American film. I honestly believe that Michael [Cimino] was under a tremendous amount of pressure, and Michael's response to pressure from what I saw was to double down and to get more aggressive and to get more kind of arrogant, but I don't think it was real. I think it was the response to pressure. ~ Richard Masur,
939:[Consider] a fence or gate erected across a road] The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it." ~ Gilbert K Chesterton,
940:Anxiety
The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun,
The crisping steam of a train
Melts in the air, while two black birds
Sweep past the window again.
Along the vacant road, a red
Bicycle approaches; I wait
In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy
To leap down at our gate.
He has passed us by; but is it
Relief that starts in my breast?
Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still
She has no rest.
~ David Herbert Lawrence,
941:Alice dug into her pocket and pulled out her notebook, hurrying to make a note of the sensation and the day and the people in it, chewing on the end of her fountain pen as her gaze tripped over the sunlit house, the willow trees, the shimmering lake, and the yellow roses climbing on the iron gate. It was like the garden from a storybook- it 'was' the garden from a storybook- and Alice loved it. She was never going to leave Loeanneth. Never. ~ Kate Morton,
942:..perhaps all our lovers are merely hints and symbols; vagabond languages scrawled on gate-posts and paving stones along the weary road that others have trampled before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond each other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace or two ahead of us. ~ Evelyn Waugh,
943:Dachau has been my own lifelong point of no return. Between the moment when I walked through the gate of that prison, with its infamous motto, 'Arbeit Macht Frei,' and when I walked out at the end of a day that had no ordinary scale of hours, I was changed, and how I looked at the human condition, the world we live in, changed ... Years of war had taught me a great deal, but war was nothing like Dachau. Compared to Dachau, war was clean. ~ Martha Gellhorn,
944:Practice acceptance on yourself so you can be kinder with your child. Practice nonjudgmental awareness of your life so you can save your loved ones from the cruelty of your own impossible standards and your hard-hearted disappointment. Practice greater faith and lesser blame. Take this blink of time when you are still stumbling at the gate, still awkward at the tasks, to turn down the sound and tumble freely in a state of grace. Life ~ Karen Maezen Miller,
945:I Am A King
I am a King,
Or an Emperor rather,
I wear crown-imperial
And prince's-feather;
Golden-rod is the sceptre
I wield and wag,
And a broad purple flag-flower
Waves for my flag.
Elder the pithy
With old-man and sage,
These are my councillors
Green in old age;
Lord-and-ladies in silence
Stand round me and wait,
While gay ragged-robin
Makes bows at my gate.
~ Christina Georgina Rossetti,
946:One of the many reasons why gardens are increasingly precious to us in this day and age is that they help us to escape from the tyranny of speed. Our skies are streaked with jets, our roads have turned to race-tracks, and in the cities the crowds rush to and fro as though the devil were at their heels. But as soon as we open the garden gate, Time seems almost to stand still, slowing down to the gentle ticking of the Clock of the Universe. ~ Beverley Nichols,
947:The man that I named the Giver passed along to the boy knowledge, history, memories, color, pain, laughter, love, and truth. Every time you place a book in the hands of a child, you do the same thing. It is very risky. But each time a child opens a book, he pushes open the gate that separates him from Elsewhere. It gives him choices. It gives him freedom. Those are magnificent, wonderfully unsafe things. [from her Newberry Award acceptance speech] ~ Lois Lowry,
948:It wasn't until she was on the ramp leading to the plane that she realized what she'd left behind. Her bangle, the one she never removed, the one Kaushik had hooked his finger through that first night, drawing her to him. She saw it now in her mind, sitting in the gray plastic tray she'd placed it in before passing through the security gate. She turned around, began walking in the opposite direction, back to the woman who had taken her boarding pass. ~ Anonymous,
949:Tell you what." I closed the blade with a satisfying snick. "Remember that time you tried to kill me because I wouldn't open a gate to hell?"

"The memory's a bit fuzzy..."
I opened the knife again.
"Yes, now that you mention it, I do recall something like that happening, although my motivation was certainly never to kill you. Can't you view it as me inspiring you to figure out how to use the Paths? I didn't actually want you to die. ~ Kiersten White,
950:Before one goes through the gate one may not be aware there is a gate One may think there is a gate to go through and look a long time for it without finding it One may find it and it may not open If it opens one may be through it As one goes through it one sees that the gate one went through was the self that went through it no one went through a gate there was no gate to go through no one ever found a gate no one ever realized there was never a gate ~ R D Laing,
951:The relic from before birth Enters one's heart one day. Be as careful as if you were holding a full vessel, Be as gentle as if you were caressing an infant. The gate of earth should be shut tight, The portals of heaven should be first opened. Wash the yellow sprouts clean, And atop the mountain is thunder shaking the earth. [1786.jpg] -- from Immortal Sisters: Secret Teachings of Taoist Women, Edited by Thomas Cleary

~ Sun Buer, Refining the Spirit
,
952:an evening sitting under the eaves of the pines at night sleeping in Bamboo Lodge the sky so clear you'd say it was drugs meditation so deep, thought I'd gone home to the hills but Clever can't beat Stupid and Quick won't match Quiet Untoiling-ness! (you just can't pave the Way) that's it! the Gate of Mystery! [2158.jpg] -- from A Drifting Boat: Chinese Zen Poetry, Edited by J. P. Seaton / Edited by Dennis Maloney

~ Po Chu-i, Staying at Bamboo Lodge
,
953:After having been standing by the gate of the garden for a long time, Siddhartha realised that his desire was foolish, which had made him go up to this place, that he could not help his son, that he was not allowed to cling him. Deeply, he felt the love for the run-away in his heart, like a wound, and he felt at the same time that this wound had not been given to him in order to turn the knife in it, that it had to become a blossom and had to shine. ~ Hermann Hesse,
954:I’m going?” Malcolm asked nervously.
“Yep.”
“But I don’t know anything about hunting bears.”
“We aren’t hunting a bear,” Raithe said. “You just heard her.”
“Then why am I terrified?”
“Because it will be dark by the time we get out there, because I’m going, and because the gods are infatuated with me this month.”
“Tell me again why I’m going.”
Raithe ran toward the gate. “It’s your reward for hitting people with rocks. ~ Michael J Sullivan,
955:Proverbs 1:20-23 20 Wisdom shouts in the streets.        She cries out in the public square. 21 She calls to the crowds along the main street,        to those gathered in front of the city gate: 22 “How long, you simpletons,        will you insist on being simpleminded?   How long will you mockers relish your mocking?        How long will you fools hate knowledge? 23 Come and listen to my counsel.   I’ll share my heart with you        and make you wise. ~ Anonymous,
956:The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao.
The name that can be named is not the eternal name.
The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth.
The named is the mother of ten thousand things.
Ever desireless, one can see the mystery.
Ever desiring, one can see the manifestations.
These two spring from the same source but differ in name;
this appears as darkness.
Darkness within darkness.
The gate to all mystery. ~ Lao Tzu,
957:We use enough metal in caskets and underground vaults that we could rebuild the Golden Gate Bridge every January. The embalming fluid they pumped into my grandfather causes a higher incidence of leukemia and brain and colon cancer in funeral directors. The waste from the dead, along with embalming fluids, is pumped into the sewer, draining straight off the embalming table and down the drain, accompanied by the bleach that’s used to disinfect the body. ~ Lee Gutkind,
958:15-Look, I am with you, and I will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."
16-When Jacob woke up, he thought, "Surely the LORD is in this place, and I was unaware of it."
17-And he was afraid and said, "How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven!"... ~ Anonymous, The Bible, Genesis 28:16, Berean Study Bible,
959:I let the front door slam shut behind me and the fly screen rattle. It was as if each door was kicking me out of the old life I'd lived in that house. I was being thrown out into the world, new. The broken, leaning gate creaked open, let me out, and I gently placed it shut. I was gone, and from down the street, maybe fifty yards away, I looked back for a second at the house where I lived. It wasn't the same any more. It never would be. I kept walking. ~ Markus Zusak,
960:The man that I named the Giver passed along to the boy knowledge, history, memories, color, pain, laughter, love, and truth. Every time you place a book in the hands of a child, you do the same thing. It is very risky. But each time a child opens a book, he pushes open the gate that separates him from Elsewhere. It gives him choices. It gives him freedom. Those are magnificent, wonderfully unsafe things.

[from her Newberry Award acceptance speech] ~ Lois Lowry,
961:"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're about to begin boarding. If we could ask for your cooperation, please stay seated until you row has been called." ... That's what they say - but somehow, by the time it comes out of the speaker, it sounds like, "Everybody up and rush the door! Everybody up and try to squeeze your big fat butts in the small gate door area! Immediately! ... Do whatever you have to do to get on board. This is the last helicopter out of Vietnam!" ~ Brian Regan,
962:Most of us feel on some level like race horses chomping at the bit, pressing at the gate, hoping and praying for someone to open the door and let us run out. We feel so much pent up energy, so much locked up talent. We know in our hearts that we were born to do great things, and we have a deep-seated dread of wasting our lives. But the only person who can free us is ourselves. Most of us know that. We realize that the locked door is our own fear. ~ Marianne Williamson,
963:Oddly, the scars were just as beautiful as the wings. They revealed history, told a story. I opened my eyes and trailed my fingers along the feathers as I reached for the lilac pinafore. Everything in the background faded away. The store, the humans in their stupor, the cowering gate guardian — it all vanished from my awareness. All I knew was the feel of his wings. I wanted to rub my face against them, breathe in their sweet scent, wrap them around me… ~ Debra Dunbar,
964:We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. ~ T S Eliot,
965:Although no one said so, intuitively I knew they were my celestial welcoming committee. It was as if they had all gathered just outside heaven's gate, waiting for me. The first person I recognized was Joe Kulbeth, my grandfather. He looked exactly as I remembered him, with his shock of white hair. ...as I stared into his face, an ecstatic bliss overwhelmed me. ... I couldn't get past the joy of our reunion. How either of us reached heaven seemed irrelevant. ~ Don Piper,
966:Heaven and hell are not very distant, they are neighbors; only a small fence divides them. You can jump that fence, even without a gate. You go on jumping from this to that. In the morning you may be in heaven; by evening you are in hell. This moment heaven, that moment hell. It is just an attitude, just a state of your mind, just how you are feeling. Many times, in a single life, you may visit hell, and many times you may visit heaven. In a single day also. ~ Rajneesh,
967:Rejected
When Dr. Charles O'Donnell died
They sank a box with him inside.
The plate with his initials three
Was simply graven-'C.O.D.'
That night two demons of the Pit
Adown the coal-hole shunted it.
Ten million million leagues it fell,
Alighting at the gate of Hell.
Nick looked upon it with surprise,
A night-storm darkening his eyes.
'They've sent this rubbish, C.O.D.
I'll never pay a cent!' said he.
~ Ambrose Bierce,
968:Their morning training was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a plainly dressed man. Lugo, the youngest initiate at the chapter house, noticed him first and nearly received a blow to the head as a result of his inattention. Shouting at the rest of the men to stop their drill, Andreas glared at the man who was standing inside the chapter house gate. “How might we assist you?” he called across the yard, more than a little annoyed at the interruption. ~ Neal Stephenson,
969:We walked and wheeled and trudged past the gates without the eye of the camera to note the grandeur of the event. Without costume. Without photographers. I didn't know it then, but this was what I wished the world would see: bundles of children footing their way across the icy path, the too-young paying no mind to the words at the main gate, the words that arched their way into Auschwitz's sky, and the still-young-but-now-too-old blinking at their meaning. ~ Affinity Konar,
970:At that moment their conversation was interrupted by a most barbaric sound – a great horn was being blown. A number of men rushed forward and heaved the great town gates shut. Thinking that perhaps some danger threatened the town, Stephen looked round in alarm. “Sir, what is happening?” “Oh, it is these people’s custom to shut the gate every night against the wicked heathen,” said the gentleman, languidly, “by which they mean everyone except themselves. But ~ Susanna Clarke,
971:Patanjali, declares that the true secret of evolution is the manifestation of the perfection which is already in every being; that this perfection has been barred and the infinite tide behind is struggling to express itself. These struggles and competitions are but the results of our ignorance, because we do not know the proper way to unlock the gate and let the water in. This infinite tide behind must express itself; it is the cause of all manifestation. ~ Swami Vivekananda,
972:There's one thing I've learned about mortals. They're a lot more resilient and a whole bunch more resourceful than they usually give themselves credit for. Why else do you think the Fae have always had such a fascination with them? Why d'you think Auberon uses changelings to guard the Gate? Trolls are stronger, cheaper, more plentiful, and nobody cares if they get exploded or ripped to pieces. But he uses mortals. Because they're full of hidden strengths. ~ Lesley Livingston,
973:It is the dogma that is the drama—not beautiful phrases, nor comforting sentiments, nor vague aspirations to loving-kindness and uplift, nor the promise of something nice after death—but the terrifying assertion that the same God who made the world, lived in the world and passed through the grave and gate of death. Show that to the heathen, and they may not believe it; but at least they may realize that here is something that a man might be glad to believe. ~ Dorothy L Sayers,
974:And Whoever is in charge of all this will walk with us, and will help us to sort out the mysteries and help us to complete the healing. Walls will fall and we will see each other more clearly - all of us, the Mormons and the Catholics and the Jews and the Moslems and the straights and the gays and the women and the men. Confusions will lift like fog lifts from the Golden Gate Bridge on a good summer day, and we will each see our next step and will take it. ~ Carol Lynn Pearson,
975:This is a Christian country. Why, so is hell. Inasmuch as Strait is the way and narrow is the gate, and few - few - are they that enter in thereat has had the natural effect of making hell the only really prominent Christian community in any of the worlds; but we don't brag of this and certainly it is not proper to brag and boast that America is a Christian country when we all know that certainly five-sixths of our population could not enter in at the narrow gate. ~ Mark Twain,
976:My cell buzzed midstorm with a text from Soul that said, We are here. See lights in house. No answer at door. NO DOOR. Please advise. Are wet.
I chuckled and texted back, Side gate. Enter through window. To the guys, I said, “Soul’s back and she must be human because she can text. And she’s not alone, and she’s wet. Oh. And she noted that we have no front door.”
“She’s clearly got mad powers of observation even when she’s a dragon,” Alex said. ~ Faith Hunter,
977:Neuroimaging in the brain shows that once the areas of the brain that process incoming sensory data are sensitized to incoming data, that is, once the gating channels are opened more widely, the sections of the brain that gate that particular type of sensory data stay open. The baseline gating level increases even if the degree of sensory stimulus is not increased. The metaphysical background of the world begins to emerge into sensing on a regular basis. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
978:When she opened her car door, she noticed the electronic memo on the driver's seat. Scooping it up, she got behind the wheel. As she headed toward the gate, she flicked on the memo. Roarke's voice drawled out.
"I don't like the idea of you shivering unless I cause it. Stay warm."
Frowning, she tucked the memo in her pocket before experimentally touching the temperature gauge. The blast of heat had her yelping in shock.
She grinned all the way to Cop Central. ~ J D Robb,
979:The gate was made out of blocks of stone bigger across than I am tall. Something else supposedly built by the old gods, it was topped by a solid stone lintel with two carved lions that were supposed to roar if an enemy of the king passed beneath them. At least they were said to be lions. The stone had been weathered by the centuries, and only indistinct monster figures remained, facing each other over a short pillar. They remained silent as we passed under. ~ Megan Whalen Turner,
980:Every city is a ghost.
New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park. ~ Libba Bray,
981:I have walked in Death to the very precipice of the Ninth Gate," Abhorsen said quietly. "I know the secrets and horrors of the Nine Precincts. I do not know what lies beyond, but everything that lives must go there, in the proper time. That is the rule that governs our work as the Abhorsen, but it also governs us. You are the fifty-third Abhorsen, Sabriel. I have not taught you as well as I should—let this be my final lesson. Everyone and everything has a time to die. ~ Garth Nix,
982:It is the dogma that is the drama -- not beautiful phrases, nor comforting sentiments, nor vague aspirations to loving-kindness and uplift, nor the promise of something nice after death -- but the terrifying assertion that the same God who made the world lived in the world and passed through the grave and gate of death. Show that to the heathen, and they may not believe it; but at least they may realize that here is something that a man might be glad to believe. ~ Dorothy L Sayers,
983:12 Therefore, whatever you want others to do for you, do also the same for them — this is the Law and the Prophets. Entering the Kingdom 13 “Enter through the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the road is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who go through it. 14 How narrow is the gate and difficult the road that leads to life, and few find it. 15 “Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravaging wolves. 16 You’ll ~ Anonymous,
984:Not only did Mao Zedong Thought lead us to victory in the revolution in the past; it is - and will continue to be - a treasured possession of the Chinese Communist Party and of our country. That is why we will forever keep Chairman Mao's portrait on Tiananmen Gate as a symbol of our country, and we will always remember him as a founder of our Party and state. Moreover, we will adhere to Mao Zedong Thought. We will not do to Chairman Mao what Khrushchev did to Stalin. ~ Deng Xiaoping,
985:I closed my eyes. The only things I knew about why Empty Ones worked the way we did was that we had room for extra souls because we started out with less, and that we could make gates because of our innately human sense of home. But my home was here. How on earth was I supposed to find another one?
“The gate needs to be opened and closed before dawn,” Cresseda said, a hint of strain flowing through her voice.
“YES. THANKS FOR THAT. VERY HELPFUL RIGHT NOW. ~ Kiersten White,
986:It had come from one of two corgis who were even now slamming their preposterous bodies into each other not far away, trying to roll each other over, which runs contrary to the laws of mechanics even in the case of corgis that are lean and trim, which these were not.

This struggle, which appeared to be only one skirmish in a conflict of epochal standing, had driven all lesser considerations, such as guarding the gate, from the combatants' sphere of attention... ~ Neal Stephenson,
987:A Tourist On a great rock by the Jaffa Gate sat a golden girl from Scandinavia and oiled herself with suntan oil as if on the beach. I told her, don’t go into these alleys, a net of bachelors in heat is spread there, a snare of lechers. And further inside, in half-darkness, the groaning trousers of old men, and unholy lust in the guise of prayer and grief and seductive chatter in many languages. Once Hebrew was God’s slang in these streets, now I use it for holy desire. ~ Yehuda Amichai,
988:MARIA: But unluckily that iron gate, that Ha, Ha, give me a feeling of restraint and hardship. I cannot get out, as the starling said.
HENRY: And for the world you would not get out without the key and without Mr. Rushworth's authority and protection, or I think you might with little difficulty pass round the edge of the gate, here, with my assistance; I think it might be done, if you really wished to be more at large, and could allow yourself to think it not prohibited. ~ Jane Austen,
989:when my echoing footsteps brought it suddenly into my mind that there was a dreadful truth in the legend of the Ghost's Walk, that it was I who was to bring calamity upon the stately house and that my warning feet were haunting it even then. Seized with an augmented terror of myself which turned me cold, I ran from myself and everything, retraced the way by which I had come, and never paused until I had gained the lodge-gate, and the park lay sullen and black behind me. ~ Charles Dickens,
990:A full and powerful soul not only copes with painful even terrible losses, deprivations, robberies, insults; it emerges from such hells with a greater fullness and powerfulness, and most essential of all with a new increase in the bliss-Fulness of love.

I believe that he who has divined something of the most basic conditions for his growth in love will understand what Dante meant when he wrote over the gate of his inferno: 'I, too, was created by eternal love. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche,
991: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 cliches, 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. ~ Vladimir Nabokov,
992:…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 cliches, 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… ~ Vladimir Nabokov,
993:Sometimes, it is true, a sense of isolation enfolds me like a cold mist as I sit alone and wait at life’s shut gate. Beyond there is light, and music, and sweet companionship; but I may not enter. Fate, silent, pitiless, bars the way…Silence sits immense upon my soul. Then comes hope with a smile and whispers, ‘there is joy is self-forgetfulness.’ So I try to make the light in others’ eyes my sun, the music in others; ears my symphony, the smile on others’ lips my happiness. ~ Helen Keller,
994:The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Life is a long journey; the road marked out by the steps of previous travelers has no end in sight. But later on in the tale, another verse appears: Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate, And though we pass them by today, Tomorrow we may come this way And take the hidden paths that run Towards the Moon or to the Sun. The road doesn’t have to be infinite after all. Take the hidden paths. ~ Peter Thiel,
995:Regarding perfection, that's a very difficult question. I can say that I have superseded most in my sadhana [practice]. I am in it, and my mind and my intelligence gets better in my sadhana, and it reaches a certain place. When I stretch, I stretch in such a way that my awareness moves, and a gate of awareness finally opens... My body is a laboratory, you can say. I don't stretch my body as if it is an object. I do yoga from the self towards the body, not the other way around. ~ B K S Iyengar,
996:..she began to stand around the gate and expect things. What things? She didn't know exactly. Her breath was gusty and short. She knew things that nobody ever told her. For instance, the words of the trees and the wind. .. She knew the world was a stallion rolling in the blue pasture of ether. She knew that God tore down the old world every evening and built a new one by sun-up. It was wonderful to see it take form with the sun and emerge from the gray dust of its making. ~ Zora Neale Hurston,
997:May you be children of God, pure and unblameable, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (cf. Phil. 1:15): and may you never be entangled in the snares of the wicked that go round about, or bound with the chains of your sins. May the Word in you never be smothered with the cares of this life and so make you unfruitful: but may you walk in the King's Highway, turning aside neither to the right hand nor to the left, but led by the Spirit through the narrow gate. ~ Gregory of Nazianzus,
998:She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. " I'ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to 'ate you, there's easy enough ways of making it 'appen. You don't need my help with the poor thing." And with that, she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. "Not for her," he said, under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, "for me..." and he leaned his head against the cold iron gate. ~ Cassandra Clare,
999:Under the Mountain dark and tall The King has come unto his hall! His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread, And ever so his foes shall fall. The sword is sharp, the spear is long, The arrow swift, the Gate is strong; The heart is bold that looks on gold; The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong. The dwarves of yore made mighty spells, While hammers fells like ringing bells In places deep, where dark things sleep, In hollow halls beneath the fells. -from The Hobbit (Dwarves Battle Song) ~ J R R Tolkien,
1000:On the appointed day -- I think it was the next day, but no matter -- Traddles and I repaired to the prison where Mr. Creakle was powerful. It was an immense and solid building, erected at a vast expense. I could not help thinking, as we approached the gate, what an uproar would have been made in the country, if any deluded man had proposed to spend one half the money it had cost, on the erection of an industrial school for the young, or a house of refuge for the deserving old. ~ Charles Dickens,
1001:O White Wind, Numbing The World
O WHITE wind, numbing the world
to a mask of suffering hate!
and thy goblin pipes have skirl’d
all night, at my broken gate.
O heart, be hidden and kept
in a half-light colour’d and warm,
and call on thy dreams that have slept
to charm thee from hate and harm.
They are gone, for I might not keep;
my sense is beaten and dinn’d;
there is no peace but a grey sleep
in the pause of the wind.
~ Christopher John Brennan,
1002:Every town-gate and village taxing-house had its band of citizen-patriots, with their national muskets in a most explosive state of readiness, who stopped all comers and goers, cross-questioned them, inspected their papers, looked for their names in lists of their own, turned them back, or sent them on, or stopped them and laid them in hold, as their capricious judgment or fancy deemed best for the dawning Republic One and Indivisible, of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death. ~ Charles Dickens,
1003:Exchanges
All that I had I brought,
Little enough I know;
A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
A rose to match thy snow:
All that I had I brought.
Little enough I sought:
But a word compassionate,
A passing glance, or thought,
For me outside the gate:
Little enough I sought.
Little enough I found:
All that you had, perchance!
With the dead leaves on the ground,
I dance the devil's dance.
All that you had I found.
~ Ernest Christopher Dowson,
1004:From day to day, from moment to moment, she increased so much this twofold plenitude that she attained an immense and inconceivable degree of grace. So much so, that the Almighty made her the sole custodian of his treasures and the sole dispenser of his graces. She can now ennoble, exalt and enrich all she chooses. She can lead them along the narrow path to heaven and guide them through the narrow gate to life. She can give a royal throne, sceptre and crown to whom she wishes. ~ Louis de Montfort,
1005:Our entire case as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints rests on the validity of this glorious First Vision. ... Nothing on which we base our doctrine, nothing we teach, nothing we live by is of greater importance than this initial declaration. I submit that if Joseph Smith talked with God the Father and His Beloved Son, then all else of which he spoke is true. This is the hinge on which turns the gate that leads to the path of salvation and eternal life. ~ Gordon B Hinckley,
1006:Every town-gate and village taxing-house had its band of citizen-patriots,* with their national muskets in a most explosive state of readiness, who stopped all comers and goers, cross-questioned them, inspected their papers, looked for their names in lists of their own, turned them back, or sent them on, or stopped them and laid them in hold, as their capricious judgment or fancy deemed best for the dawning Republic One and Indivisible, of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death.* ~ Charles Dickens,
1007:Instructions For Wayfarers They will declare: Every journey has been taken. You shall respond: I have not been to see myself. They will insist: Everything has been spoken. You shall reply: I have not had my say. They will tell you: Everything has been done. You shall reply: My way is not complete. You are warned: Any way is long, any way is hard. Fear not. You are the gate - you, the gatekeeper. And you shall go through and on . . . —Alexandros Evangelou Xenopouloudakis, THIRD WISH ~ Robert Fulghum,
1008:My Wheel Is In The Dark
10
My wheel is in the dark!
I cannot see a spoke
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.
My foot is on the Tide!
An unfrequented road—
Yet have all roads
A clearing at the end—
Some have resigned the Loom—
Some in the busy tomb
Find quaint employ—
Some with new—stately feet—
Pass royal through the gate
Flinging the problem back
At you and I!
~ Emily Dickinson,
1009:Under Her Dark Veil
Under her dark veil she wrung her hands.
"Why are you so pale today?"
"Because I made him drink of stinging grief
Until he got drunk on it.
How can I forget? He staggered out,
His mouth twisted in agony.
I ran down not touching the bannister
And caught up with him at the gate.
I cried: 'A joke!
That's all it was. If you leave, I'll die.'
He smiled calmly and grimly
And told me: 'Don't stand here in the wind.' "
~ Anna Akhmatova,
1010:I am your lover, come to my side, I will open the gate to your love. Come settle with me, let us be neighbors to the stars. You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my love. Even so, you have always been connected to me. Concealed, revealed, in the unknown, in the un-manifest. I am life itself. You have been a prisoner of a little pond, I am the ocean and its turbulent flood. Come merge with me, leave this world of ignorance. Be with me, I will open the gate to your love. ~ Rumi,
1011:She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. " I'ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to 'ate you, there's easy enough ways of making it 'appen.
You don't need my help with the poor thing."
And with that, she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. "Not for her," he said, under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, "for me..." and he leaned his head against the cold iron gate. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1012:The pig squealed as if it were being murdered. Eva had the pig by its hind legs. She dragged it backward as it screeched with every breath. Westley yanked open the gate so she could drag it inside. She let it go and it ran to the back of the pen, still squealing. Eva was breathing hard as she brushed her hands together, a triumphant glint in her eye. Her cheeks were pink and her red hair was in disarray, more strands hanging loose than in her braid. He lost his breath for a moment. ~ Melanie Dickerson,
1013:He knew very well that love could be like the most beautiful singing, that it could make death inconsequential, that it existed in forms so pure and strong that it was capable of reordering the universe. He knew this, and that he lacked it, and yet as he stood in the courtyard of the Palazzo Venezia, watching diplomats file quietly out the gate, he was content, for he suspected that to command the profoundest love might in the end be far less beautiful a thing than to suffer its absence. ~ Mark Helprin,
1014:Julian was always trying to convince her that E.T. had already visited Earth multiple times. One night in Dolores Park, while they were hanging out on the swings in the playground, Julian told her about meeting an alien abductee in Golden Gate Park the weekend before.
"He had an implant in his lower back - he totally showed me the scar and everything," Julian said [...].
"Yeah, I'm sure that's what he was showing you."[...]
"You're just jealous you didn't get to see his ass. ~ Malinda Lo,
1015:As the plane pulled away from its gate that day, I looked out my window and back at the airport, knowing that my mother stood somewhere behind its black-glass windows, dressed in her winter coat and waving me on. I remember the jet engines firing, shockingly loud. And then we were rattling down the runway and beginning to tilt upward as the acceleration seized my chest and pressed me backward into my seat for that strange, in-between half moment that comes before finally you feel lifted. ~ Michelle Obama,
1016:Dying! Dying In The Night!
158
Dying! Dying in the night!
Won't somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
And "Jesus"! Where is Jesus gone?
They said that Jesus—always came—
Perhaps he doesn't know the House—
This way, Jesus, Let him pass!
Somebody run to the great gate
And see if Dollie's coming! Wait!
I hear her feet upon the stair!
Death won't hurt—now Dollie's here!
~ Emily Dickinson,
1017:We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea. ~ T S Eliot,
1018:coming?” “Kraken,” Sin Fen said. “They live near gates, usually staying deep, only rising when a gate opens. Which is why they’ve so rarely been recorded in history. Ships that encounter them either are destroyed by the kraken or sucked through the gate.” “Kraken,” Neeley said. “All right.” “You wanted to do this,” Sin Fen reminded her. “I’m always open to a new adventure,” Neeley said. Sin Fen gave her a hard stare. “There is darkness in you. A certain fatalism.” “Perhaps,” Neeley acknowledged. ~ Bob Mayer,
1019:Dinantra was watching from the patron’s box on the lowest tier, which was backed by a tiled wall and shaded by a roof of fluttering silk awnings. The Duke of Endland sat in silence among her gaggle of courtiers, arms crossed and ears flattened against the autumnal sweep of his slicked-back hair. His eyes were fixed firmly on Gabriel, who in turn was staring across the sand-strewn expanse at the huge wrought-iron gate that stood opposite the corridor they’d emerged from a few minutes earlier ~ Nicholas Eames,
1020:Through the gate in the mountain comes the buran, the wind that destroys. Shepherds and the flocks of shepherds die at the cold touch of the buran.
From the iron gate of the winds in the sky comes the buran, and where it breathes is desolation.
Before the time of our fathers and their fathers and the memory of the oldest men there came through the gate of the mountain the Destroyer.
Genghis Khan, the Destroyer, rode through the gateway of Mongolia and in his path there was desolation. ~ Harold Lamb,
1021:Guard Of The Eastern Gate
Halifax sits on her hills by the sea
In the might of her pride,-Invincible, terrible, beautiful, she
With a sword at her side.
To right and to left of her, battlements rear
And fortresses frown;
While she sits on her throne without favour or fear
With her cannon as crown.
Coast guard and sentinel, watch of the weal
Of a nation she keeps;
But her hand is encased in a gauntlet of steel,
And her thunder but sleeps.
~ Emily Pauline Johnson,
1022:They hammered on the outer gate and called, but there was at first no answer; and then to their surprise someone blew a horn, and the lights in the windows went out. A voice shouted in the dark: 'Who's that? Be off! You can't come in. Can't you read the notice: No admittance between sundown and sunrise?' 'Of course we can't read the notice in the dark,' Sam shouted back. 'And if hobbits of the Shire are to be kept out in the wet on a night like this, I'll tear down your notice when I find it. ~ J R R Tolkien,
1023:Since ... 'the kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent take it by force' (Mt. 11:12), and it is impossible for the faithful to enter it by any other way, unless they come through the narrow gate of trials and tribulations, the divine oracle rightly commands us, saying: 'Strive to enter by the narrow door' (Lk. 13:24). Again He says, 'By your endurance you will gain your souls' (Lk. 21:19), and, 'Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of heaven' (Acts 14:22). ~ Symeon the New Theologian,
1024:Once, hurrying through a busy airport to get to my gate on time for a connecting flight, I came upon a lady in a wheelchair. Amidst the chaos of the hundreds of people rushing around us, my eyes met hers. The sweetest smile appeared on her face. I smiled back, but I knew she would never fully realize how that small gesture had filled my soul. I believe that God is in our everyday. Many moments occur in our lives which reveal his face, his touch, his voice. Look for him today. He will be found. ~ Kathy Troccoli,
1025:Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.
Which was the real - the butterfly or the man ?
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?
The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns in time to the shallows of a transparent stream.
The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.
So must rank and riches vanish.
You know it, still you toil and toil - what for? ~ Li Bai,
1026:Conceit, arrogance and egotism are the essentials of patriotism... Patriotism assumes that our globe is divided into little spots, each one surrounded by an iron gate. Those who have had the fortune of being born on some particular spot consider themselves nobler, better, grander, more intelligent than those living beings inhabiting any other spot. It is, therefore, the duty of everyone living on that chosen spot to fight, kill and die in the attempt to impose his superiority upon all the others. ~ Emma Goldman,
1027:It is the utterly unknown people who can grow in all directions like an exuberant tree. It is in our interior lives that we find that people are too much themselves. It is in our private life that we find them swelling into the enormous contours, and taking on the colours of caricature. Many of us live publicly with featureless public puppets, images of the small public abstractions. It is when we pass our own private gate, and open our own secret door, that we step into the land of the giants. ~ G K Chesterton,
1028:Alec had been so fun to be around, always smiling joyously at even the smallest thing, regardless of what happened around him. That was the worst part: he had gone away with the blue-coated guards happily, the sunny smile still on his face, as the guards’ rough hands grabbed and pulled, taking him out and up to the gates, where the guards had held him until Alec had been zeroed at a gate ceremony that night—all while little Charley had been forced to remain in the underground dorms—bedtime as usual. ~ Joel Ohman,
1029:Carrying body and soul and embracing the one, can you avoid separation? Can you let your body become as supple as a newborn child’s? In the opening and shutting of heaven’s gate, can you play the feminine part? Can you love your people and govern your domain without self-importance? Giving birth and nourishing; having, yet not possessing; working, yet not taking credit; leading without controlling or dominating. One who heeds this power brings the Tao to this very earth. This is the primal virtue. ~ Wayne W Dyer,
1030:Finnikin waited, thinking of all the things he had to tell her.

That perhaps he was the resurdus of Seranonna's prophecy, the one to break the spell at the main gate. And that she, Evanjalin, was the light of his sometimes very dark heart who would lead him.

Then he heard the crunch of footsteps and she was there and he opened his coat and wrapped her inside, holding her tight until the beat of their hearts slowed to the same pace and her lips were against the base of his throat. ~ Melina Marchetta,
1031:Merlin
O Merlin in your crystal cave
Deep in the diamond of the day,
Will there ever be a singer
Whose music will smooth away
The furrow drawn by Adam's finger
Across the memory and the wave?
Or a runner who'll outrun
Man's long shadow driving on,
Break through the gate of memory
And hang the apple on the tree?
Will your magic ever show
The sleeping bride shut in her bower,
The day wreathed in its mound of snow
and Time locked in his tower?
~ Edwin Muir,
1032:I don't know what's going on in the world," he said. "Everything seemed so reasonable and scientific until I discovered my son was a fraud with the ability to hide my own memories from me. And now you come along. The captain at the gate told me you were executed and buried yesterday."
"He spoke to you? He didn't say a word to me," I said.
"Don't change the subject, young man. I'm accusing you of violating the laws of nature."
"Nature's virtue is intact. I just know some different laws. ~ Orson Scott Card,
1033:The amazing thing is that chaotic systems don't always stay chaotic," Ben said, leaning on the gate. "Sometimes they spontaneously reorganize themselves into an orderly structure." "They suddenly become less chaotic?" I said, wishing that would happen at HiTek. "No, that's the thing. They become more and more chaotic until they reach some sort of chaotic critical mass. When that happens, they spontaneously reorganize themselves at a higher equilibrium level. It's called self-organized criticality. ~ Connie Willis,
1034:The flimsy little protestations that mark the front gate of every novel, the solemn statements that any resemblance to real persons living or dead is entirely coincidental, are fraudulent every time. A writer has no other material to make his people from than the people of his experience ... The only thing the writer can do is to recombine parts, suppress some characterisitics and emphasize others, put two or three people into one fictional character, and pray the real-life prototypes won't sue. ~ Wallace Stegner,
1035:Hinduism... gave itself no name, because it set itself no sectarian limits; it claimed no universal adhesion, asserted no sole infallible dogma, set up no single narrow path or gate of salvation; it was less a creed or cult than a continuously enlarging tradition of the Godward endeavour of the human spirit. An immense many-sided many-staged provision for a spiritual self-building and self-finding, it had some right to speak of itself by the only name it knew, the eternal religion, Sanatana Dharma. ~ Sri Aurobindo,
1036:I am glad you encouraged me with the 'Stoke' [his painting 'Stoke-by-Nayland', circa 1835] What say you to a summer morning? July or August, at eight or nine o'clock, after a slight shower during the night, to enhance the dews in the shadowed part of the picture, under 'Hedge row elms and hillocks green.' Then the plough, cart, horse, gate, cows, donkey, &c. are all good paintable material for the foreground, and the size of the canvas sufficient to try one's strength, and keep one at full collar. ~ John Constable,
1037:We might have been ready to offer sympathy, but in actuality there were stronger reasons to want to congratulate her for having found such a powerful motive to feel sad. We should have envied her for having located someone without whom she so firmly felt she could not survive, beyond the gate let along in a bare student bedroom in a suburb of Rio. If she had been able to view her situation from a sufficient distance, she might have been able to recognise this as one of the high points in her life. ~ Alain de Botton,
1038:An Epitaph [hangman's Hands Laid In This Tomb An]
Hangman's hands laid in this tomb an
Imp of Satan's getting, whom an
Ancient legend says that woman
Never bore-he owed his birth
To Sin herself. From Hell to Earth
She brought the brat in secret state
And laid him at the Golden gate,
And they named him Henry Vrooman.
While with mortals here he stayed,
His father frequently he played.
Raised his birth-place and in other
Playful ways begot his mother.
~ Ambrose Bierce,
1039:Deep in thought, Alex was startled by the clink of the garden gate opening and closing again. Avigail’s face brightened as she replaced her teacup on its saucer and stood. “Ah, there you are. You look exhausted!” In her sixties, the woman walking up the garden path was tall and olive skinned, hair white as snow. The likeness to the professor is remarkable, Alex thought as he shook her hand. She even moves like him. “Dr. Stern, I’m Alex. I knew your father. I’m so sorry.” It was all he could think to say. ~ Dan Eaton,
1040:A Christian woman's true freedom lies on the other side of a very small gate...humble obedience...but that gate leads out into a largeness of life undreamed of by the liberators of the world, to a place where the God-given differentiation between the sexes is not obfuscated but celebrated, where our inequalities are seen as essential to the image of God, for it is in male and female, in male as male and female as female, not as two identical and interchangeable halves, that the image is manifested. ~ Elisabeth Elliot,
1041:Observe immigrants not as they come travel-wan up the gang-plank, nor as they issue toil-begrimed from the pit's mouth or mill-gate, but in their gatherings, washed, combed, and in their Sunday best.... They are hirsute, low-browed, big-faced persons of obviously low mentality... They simply look out of place in black clothes and stiff collar, since clearly they belong in skins, in wattled huts at the close of the Great Ice Age. These ox-like men are descendants of those who always stayed behind. ~ Edward Alsworth Ross,
1042:The zazen I speak of is not learning meditation. It is simply the Dharma gate of repose and bliss, the practice-realization of totally culminated enlightenment. It is the manifestation of ultimate reality. Traps and snares can never reach it. Once its heart is grasped, you are like the dragon when he gains the water, like the tiger when she enters the mountain. For you must know that just there (in zazen) the right Dharma is manifesting itself and that, from the first, dullness and distraction are struck aside. ~ D gen,
1043:The zazen I speak of is not learning meditation. It is simply the Dharma gate of repose and bliss, the practice-realization of totally culminated enlightenment. It is the manifestation of ultimate reality. Traps and snares can never reach it. Once its heart is grasped, you are like the dragon when he gains the water, like the tiger when she enters the mountain. For you must know that just there (in zazen) the right Dharma is manifesting itself and that, from the first, dullness and distraction are struck aside. ~ Dogen,
1044:Death is not our foe. There is no foe. There is only the stunningly fragile human body, a holy creation capable of loving with such astonishing strength but which is weak to the curses of a fallen world. It is the frailty of flesh and blood that causes us to succumb to forces greater than ourselves. We are like butterflies, delicate and wonderful, here on earth for only a brilliant moment and then away we fly. Death is appointed merely to close the door to our suffering and open wide the gate to Paradise. ~ Susan Meissner,
1045:If you have made the good profession, if you claimed to have passed through the gate, if you have received baptism in a public declaration of your faith, and you begin to walk-it doesn't matter how long it appears you're walking in that path-if you step off that path and there's no discipline and you continue on that path, you can have no assurance whatsoever of your salvation. And it is not that you lost your salvation, it's that you're showing now that you never had it. If we would only preach these truths ~ Paul Washer,
1046:The constant exercise of riding across the estate lands, walking the fields, helping a farmer repair a gate or retrieve an ewe that had jumped a garden wall, had wrought considerable changes in West. He'd lost so much weight that his garments hung on his frame. The bloat had melted from his face and neck, revealing a firm jawline and hard profile. All the time spent outdoors had imparted healthy color to his complexion, and he appeared years younger, an air of vitality replacing the look of sleepy indolence. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
1047:To be a poet, I realized, a true poet, was to become the Avatar of humanity incarnate; to accept the mantle of poet is to carry the cross of the Son of Man, to suffer the birth pangs of the Soul-Mother of Humanity. To be a true poet is to become God.    I tried to explain this to my friends on Heaven’s Gate. “Piss, shit,” I said. “Asshole motherfucker, goddamn shit goddamn. Cunt. Pee-pee cunt. Goddamn!” They shook their heads and smiled, and walked away. Great poets are rarely understood in their own day. The ~ Dan Simmons,
1048:Today, whether it is a student who holds a sit-in to get the army recruiters off his campus, or the mother of a dead soldier who refuses to leave the front gate of the president's ranch, we continue to be saved by brave people who risk ridicule and rejection but end up turning huge tides of public opinion in the direction of righteousness. We owe them enormous debts of gratitude. It is not easy to stand up for what is right, especially when everyone else is afraid to leave the comfortable path of conformity. ~ Michael Moore,
1049:I am your lover, come to my side, I will open the gate to your love.
Come settle with me, let us be neighbors to the stars.
You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my love.
Even so, you have always been connected to me.
Concealed, revealed, in the unknown, in the un-manifest.
I am life itself. You have been a prisoner of a little pond,
I am the ocean and its turbulent flood. Come merge with me,
leave this world of ignorance. Be with me, I will open the gate to your love. ~ Rumi,
1050:This, as Joseph had pointed out on retreat, is the lie we tell ourselves our whole lives: as soon as we get the next meal, party, vacation, sexual encounter, as soon as we get married, get a promotion, get to the airport check-in, get through security and consume a bouquet of Auntie Anne’s Cinnamon Sugar Stix, we’ll feel really good. But as soon as we find ourselves in the airport gate area, having ingested 470 calories’ worth of sugar and fat before dinner, we don’t bother to examine the lie that fuels our lives. ~ Anonymous,
1051:This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth. ~ Virginia Woolf,
1052:I am your lover, come to my side, I will open the gate to your love.
Come settle with me, let us be neighbors to the stars.
You have been hiding so long, endlessly drifting in the sea of my love.
Even so, you have always been connected to me.
Concealed, revealed, in the unknown, in the un-manifest.
I am life itself. You have been a prisoner of a little pond,
I am the ocean and its turbulent flood. Come merge with me,
leave this world of ignorance. Be with me, I will open the gate to your love ~ Rumi,
1053:Judith Eva Barsi:
There she is,
A celebrity locked behind an iron gate,
Watching her own tiny image,
On the screen of her new pink television.

California gets sticky and hot in July,
And starting a fire is very strange.
Her fairy-tale board books are so well-worn,
And she’s not the only girl
Whose best friend was a cat with no whiskers.

At the silence of the dinner table,
She screamed so loud
That nobody heard her.
If all dogs go to heaven,
What about children? ~ Rebecca McNutt,
1054:Mountain’s realization comes through the details of the breath, mountain appears in each step. Mountain then lives inside our bones, inside our heart-drum. It stands like a huge mother in the atmosphere of our minds. Mountain draws ancestors together in the form of clouds. Heaven, Earth and human meet in the raining of the past. Heaven, Earth and human meet in the winds of the future. Mountain mother is a birth gate that joins the above and below, she is a prayer house, she is a mountain. Mountain is a mountain. ~ Joan Halifax,
1055:The amazing thing is that chaotic systems don't always stay chaotic," Ben said, leaning on the gate. "Sometimes they spontaneously reorganize themselves into an orderly structure."

"They suddenly become less chaotic?" I said, wishing that would happen at HiTek.

"No, that's the thing. They become more and more chaotic until they reach some sort of chaotic critical mass. When that happens, they spontaneously reorganize themselves at a higher equilibrium level. It's called self-organized criticality. ~ Connie Willis,
1056:The last year of her college career was wheeling slowly round. She could see ahead her examination and her departure. She had the ash of disillusion gritting under her teeth. Would the next move turn out the same? Always the shining doorway ahead; and then, upon approach, always the shining doorway was a gate into another ugly yard, dirty and active and dead. Always the crest of the hill gleaming ahead under heaven: and then, from the top of the hill only another sordid valley full of amorphous, squalid activity. ~ D H Lawrence,
1057:The worship of the nation has been able to make men tolerate under its authority what they could never have tolerated from princes: a submission to rule, which, through sumptuary laws on food and drink, through conscription, through a cast-iron system of compulsory instruction for all on State ordered lines, and through a State examination at the gate of every profession, has almost killed the citizen's power to react upon that which controls him, and has almost destroyed that variety which is the mark of life. ~ Hilaire Belloc,
1058:What is read and understood and contemplated and intellectually grasped is our own, madam, to live and work with. A lifetime's study will not make accessible to us more than a fragment of our own ancestral past, let alone the aeons before our race was formed. But that fragment we must thoroughly possess and hand on. Hoc opus, hic labor est. There is, I am tempted to assert, no easy way, no short cut: we are, in attempting those, like Bunyan's Ignorance who found a path to Hell at the very gate of the City of Heaven. ~ A S Byatt,
1059:The gate is perfectly simple," Temeraire said. "There is only a bar across the fence, which one can lift very easily, and then it swings open; Nitidus could do it best, for his forehands are the smallest. Though it is difficult to keep the animals inside the pen, and the first time I learned how to open it, they all ran away," he added. "Maximus and I had to chase after them for hours and hours--it was not funny at all," he said, ruffled, sitting back on his haunches and contemplating Laurence with great indignation. ~ Naomi Novik,
1060:tone. He broke a smile. “Of course. Many times.” “And you have no doubt, personally, that the woman you saw at the gate across the street after the shots was Jennifer Witt.” To his credit, realizing what it meant, Alvarez took some time, staring at Jennifer. “I have nothing against the woman, but it was her.” “Your Honor!” “All right, Mr. Freeman. The jury will disregard that last answer. Mr. Alvarez, please just answer the question.” The court recorder, Adrienne, read back Powell’s question, and this time Alvarez ~ John Lescroart,
1061:Up there we see everything, Oakland to the left, El Cerrito and Richmond to the right, Marin forward, over the Bay, Berkeley below, all red rooftops and trees of cauliflower and columbine, shaped like rockets and explosions, all those people below us, with humbler views; we see the Bay Bridge, clunkety, the Richmond Bridge, straight, low, the Golden Gate, red toothpicks and string, the blue between, the blue above, the gleaming white Land of the Lost/Superman's North Pole Getaway magic crystals that are San Francisco. ~ Dave Eggers,
1062:If you're writing in the mainstream... Whatever that is - the norm. The norm is likely going to be funded because you're giving people what they're used to and what they're gonna get. But anything outside of that norm is going to struggle to get funded. The people who are not "the norms" deserve the chance to make art. I think it's great for all of us to consume all these voices, and that happens when you support these voices that need to be supported because they're not the automatic choice coming out of the gate. ~ Kimberly Peirce,
1063:There is always a moment when stories end, a moment when everything is blue and black and silent, and the teller does not want to believe it is over, and the listener does not, and so they both hold their breath and hope fervently as pilgrims that it is not over, that there are more tales to come, more and more, fitted together like a long chain coiled in the hand. They hold their breath; the trees hold theirs, the air and the ice and the wood and the Gate. But no breath can be held forever, and all tales end. ~ Catherynne M Valente,
1064:Consider the cost when Christians ignore Jesus commands to sell their possessions and give to the poor and instead choose to spend their resources on better comforts, larger homes, nicer cars, and more stuff. Consider the cost when these Christians gather in churches and choose to spend millions of dollars on nice buildings to drive up to, cushioned chairs to sit in, and endless programs to enjoy for themselves. Consider the cost for the starving multitudes who sit outside the gate of contemporary Christian affluence. ~ David Platt,
1065:Those without the gate frequently question the wisdom and right of the occultist to guard his knowledge by the imposition of oaths of secrecy. We are so accustomed to see the scientist give his beneficent discoveries freely to all mankind that we feel that humanity is wronged and defrauded if any knowledge be kept secret by its discoverers and not at once made available for all who desire to share in it.
The knowledge is reserved in order that humanity may be protected from its abuse at the hands of the unscrupulous. ~ Dion Fortune,
1066:There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it." This ~ G K Chesterton,
1067:Unfortunately, there’s a downside to the dopamine system, and that is addiction. Addictive drugs take over the role of reward signals that feed into the dopamine neurons. Gambling, pornography, and drugs such as cocaine cause the brain to flood itself with dopamine in response. So, too, do addictive ideas, most notably addictive bad ideas, such as those propagated by cults that lead to mass suicides (think Jonestown and Heaven’s Gate), or those propagated by religions that lead to suicide bombing (think 9/11 and 7/7). ~ Michael Shermer,
1068:Indeed, conceit, arrogance, and egotism are the essentials of patriotism. Let me illustrate. Patriotism assumes that our globe is divided into little spots, each one surrounded by an iron gate. Those who have had the fortune of being born on some particular spot, consider themselves better, nobler, grander, more intelligent than the living beings inhabiting any other spot. It is, therefore, the duty of everyone living on that chosen spot to fight, kill, and die in the attempt to impose his superiority upon all the others. ~ Emma Goldman,
1069:On my way out, I stopped again at Boloor's house to thank him. He was leaving home as well, and as we walked to the gate together, I filled his ears with praise of Shailaja's fish curry. 'Really, that good, was it?' Boloor asked. 'But then, I wouldn't know,' he continued, this stalwart president of the Mogaveera Vyavasthpaka Mandali and secretary of the Akhila Karnataka Fishermen's Parishad, of the National Fishworkers' Federation and of the Coastal Karnataka Fishermen Action Committee. ' You see, I don't eat fish. ~ Samanth Subramanian,
1070:The Shroud
Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,—O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
(I, that would not wait to wear
My own bridal things,
In a dress dark as my hair
Made my answerings.
I, to-night, that till he came
Could not, could not wait,
In a gown as bright as flame
Held for them the gate. )
Death, I say, my heart is bowed
Unto thine,—O mother!
This red gown will make a shroud
Good as any other!
~ Edna St. Vincent Millay,
1071:What will happen when my heart stops beating?" Momo asked.
When that moment comes," said the professor, "time will stop for you as well. Or rather, you will retrace your steps through time, through all the days and nights, myths and years of your life, until you go out through the great, round, silver gate you entered by."
What will I find on the other side?"
The home of the music you've sometimes faintly heard in the distance, but by then you'll be part of it. You yourself will be a note in its mighty harmonies. ~ Michael Ende,
1072:And then Lucas is walking up the incline, to his own death. He doesn't spare a glance for me. Not that I deserve one. He's dying, not just because of what we made him do but for what I am. Like the others, he knew there was something strange about me. And like the others, he will die. When he disappears through the far gate, I have to turn away and stare at the wall. The gunshots are hard to ignore. The crowd roar, pleased by the violent display.
Lucas was only the beginning, the opening act. We are the show. ~ Victoria Aveyard,
1073:Work is love made visible. And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy. For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger. And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine. And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night. ~ Khalil Gibran,
1074:For a few awful, shameful seconds, I seriously contemplate dashing through the gate and joining the line at Passport Control. It’s moving fairly quickly; in the minutes it will take Mum to recover any shreds of composure, I’ll be into Security, where if she tries to follow me, she’ll be detained by the guards.
I’m a bad daughter even to think that. A terrible daughter. Not only am I leaving my mother on her own for two whole months, I’m fantasizing about running away from her and possibly getting her arrested. ~ Lauren Henderson,
1075:It’s all right,” said the Fool urgently. “You’ll be perfectly safe with me.” “Yes, I will, won’t I,” said Magrat, trying to look around him to see where the others had gone. “They’re staging the play outside, in the big courtyard. We’ll get a lovely view from one of the gate towers, and no one else will be there. I put some wine up there for us, and everything.” When she still looked half-reluctant he added, “And there’s a cistern of water and a fireplace that the guards use sometimes. In case you want to wash your hair. ~ Terry Pratchett,
1076:neuropharmacologist Franz Vollenweider observes . . . A fundamental feature of information processing dysfunction in psychosis is the inability of these patients to screen out, inhibit, filter, or gate extraneous stimuli and to attend selectively to salient features of the environment. Gating deficits may cause these subjects to become overloaded with excessive exteroceptive and interoceptive stimuli, which in turn could lead to a breakdown in cognitive integrity and difficulty in distinguishing self from nonself.4 ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
1077:Why are you here?”
“Oh— I came to tell the chieftain we’re going to die.” The girl said it quickly and with the same casual indifference as if she were announcing that the sun sets in the evening.
Persephone narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me? What did you say? Who’s going to die?”
“All of us.”
“All of whom?”
“Us.” The girl looked puzzled, but this time Persephone wasn’t certain if it was the tattoos or not.
“You and I?”
Suri sighed. “Yes— you, me, the funny man with the horn at the gate, everyone. ~ Michael J Sullivan,
1078:Within my heart a garden grows,
wild with violets and fragrant rose.
bright daffodils line the narrow path,
my footsteps silent as i pass.
sweet tulips nod their heads in rest;
i kneel in prayer to seek gods best.
for round my garden a fence stands firm
to guard my heart so i can learn
who should enter, and who should wait
on the other side of my locked gate.
i clasp the key around my neck
and wonder if the time is yet.
if i unlocked the gate today,
would you come in? or run away? ~ Robin Jones Gunn,
1079:Goddamn it, Chutsky, I have to do this, and I have to do this now, my way, without worrying about Miranda or any of that shit, and if you don’t like it shut up and go home.” She yanked at the chain and it fell open. “But I’m going in and I’m going to find Samantha, and I’m going to take down Bobby Acosta,” she said, and she yanked the lock off its chain and kicked at the gate. It bounced open with a tortured squeal and my sister glared at Chutsky and then at me. “See you later,” she said, and she whipped away through the gate. ~ Jeff Lindsay,
1080:You took a walk on a Sunday afternoon and came to a nice neighborhood, very refined. You saw a small one of these trees through the iron gate leading to someone's yard and you knew that soon that section of Brooklyn would get to be a tenement district. The tree knew. It came there first. Afterwards, poor foreigners seeped in and the quiet old brownstone houses were hacked up into flats, feather beds were pushed out on the window sills to air and the Tree of Heaven flourished. That was the kind of tree it was. It liked poor people. ~ Betty Smith,
1081:Diptych (2)
Lines for Jane and Jonathan Wells
How the white horses gallop through the city
At nightfall, when the fog rolls in from the sea
And one by one the street lamps fail to light.
The curtain of the port rises on nothing—
No buoys and no boats. Only the cry
Of a gull flying somewhere over the water,
And then the whinnying of the last horse
Rearing before the gate it will pass through
On its hind legs to join the rest of the herd.
Only this—and the light above your door.
~ Christopher Merrill,
1082:Instructions For Wayfarers

They will declare: Every journey has been taken.
You shall respond: I have not been to see myself.
They will insist: Everything has been spoken.
You shall reply: I have not had my say.

They will tell you: Everything has been done.
You shall reply: My way is not complete.

You are warned: Any way is long, any way is hard.
Fear not. You are the gate - you, the gatekeeper.
And you shall go through and on . . .

—Alexandros Evangelou Xenopouloudakis,
THIRD WISH ~ Robert Fulghum,
1083:Come Neti, my chief keeper of the gates of Kur, and listen carefully to what I say: Lock up and bolt the seven gates of Kur, then, one by one, open each gate and let Innana enter through the crack. Bring her down. But as she enters, take her regal costume from her, take the crown, the necklace, and the beads that fall across her breast, the golden breastplate on her chest, the bracelet and the rod and line. Strip her of everything, even the royal robe, and let the holy priestess of the earth, the queen of heaven, enter here bowed low. ~ Hal Duncan,
1084:There is plenty of room left for exact experiment in art, and the gate has been opened for some time. What had been accomplished in music by the end of the eighteenth century has only begun in the fine arts. Mathematics and physics have given us a clue in the form of rules to be strictly observed or departed from, as the case may be. Here salutary discipline is come to grips first of all with the function of forms, and not with form as the final result … in this way we learn how to look beyond the surface and get to the root of things. ~ Paul Klee,
1085:Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. Contrary ~ Ben Sasse,
1086:There was a wall. It did not look important. It was built of uncut rocks roughly mortared. An adult could look right over it, and even a child could climb it. Where it crossed the roadway, instead of having a gate it degenerated into mere geometry, a line, an idea of boundary. But the idea was real. It was important. For seven generations there had been nothing in the world more important than that wall. Like all walls it was ambiguous, two-faced. What was inside it and what was outside it depended upon which side of it you were on. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
1087:Since the gate was so clearly locked—locked and double-locked and chained and barred; who, she wondered, wants so badly to get in?—she made no attempt to get out of her car, but pressed the horn, and the trees and the gate shuddered and withdrew slightly from the sound. After a minute she blew the horn again and then saw a man coming toward her from inside the gate; he was as dark and unwelcoming as the padlock, and before he moved toward the gate he peered through the bars at her, scowling. “What you want?” His voice was sharp, mean. ~ Shirley Jackson,
1088:Anyone with less intestinal fortitude, inhuman or not, would've been curled up on the floor sucking his thumb. I basked in the attention and took it as my due. I'd always known I was a star. Without me, the Auphe were nothing. I was the key, and the gate was a lock only I could open. At this moment I was, as I'd always suspected, God. Spreading my arms, I let my head fall back and closed my eyes, my streaming hair a silk touch on my shoulder blades. "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Opening my eyes, I smiled gently at the Auphe. ~ Rob Thurman,
1089:There are no clean victories for black people, nor, perhaps, for any people. The presidency of Barack Obama is no different. One can now say that an African American individual can rise to the same level as a white individual, and yet also say that the number of black individuals who actually qualify for that status will be small. One thinks of Serena Williams, whose dominance and stunning achievements can’t, in and of themselves, ensure equal access to tennis facilities for young black girls. The gate is open and yet so very far away. ~ Ta Nehisi Coates,
1090:There was a wall. It did not look important. It was built of uncut rocks roughly mortared. An adult could look right over it, and even a child could climb it. Where it crossed the roadway, instead of having a gate it degenerated into mere geometry, a line, an idea of boundary. But the idea was real. It was important. For seven generations there had been nothing in the world more important than that wall.
Like all walls it was ambiguous, two-faced. What was inside it and what was outside it depended upon which side of it you were on. ~ Ursula K Le Guin,
1091:Dregs
The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof,
(This is the end of every song man sings!)
The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain,
Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain;
And health and hope have gone the way of love
Into the drear oblivion of lost things.
Ghosts go along with us until the end;
This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend.
With pale, indifferent eyes, we sit and wait
For the dropped curtain and the closing gate:
This is the end of all the songs man sings.
~ Ernest Christopher Dowson,
1092:He's a funny one," said Ida. "Here's how he sound." She pursed her lips and, expertly, imitated the red-winged blackbird's call: not the liquid piping of the wood thrush, which dipped down into the dry tchh tchh tchh of the cricket's birr and up again in delerious, sobbing trills; not the clear, three-note whistle of the chickadee or even the blue jay's rough cry, which was like a rusty gate creaking. This was an abrupt, whirring, unfamiliar cry, a scream of warning -congeree!- which choked itself off on a subdued, fluting note. ~ Donna Tartt,
1093:He put his head down and charged at the mirror. Perhaps it was a teleportation door to another section of the city, perhaps a simple doorway to a room beyond. Or perhaps, Alton dared to imagine in those few desperate seconds, this was some interplanar gate that would being him into a strange and unknown plane of existence!
He felt the tingling excitement of adventure pulling him on as he neared the wonderer thing - then he felt only the impact, the shattering glass, and the unyielding stone wall behind it.
Perhaps it was just a mirror. ~ R A Salvatore,
1094:I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I. ~ Thomas Hardy,
1095:Marjan chose a cream dress with a nice scooped collar, one that revealed her slender collarbones and neck. Instead of the high boots of the earlier evening, she slipped on a pair of tan leather pumps over her stocking-clad feet. With her hair tied back and her mother's ruby earrings, she felt just about ready. She took her best coat from the rack and opened the kitchen door.
Julian looked at her hungrily as she stepped out of the back gate. "Breathless," he said, shaking his head. "That's what you do to me, Miss Aminpour. Leave me breathless. ~ Marsha Mehran,
1096:None of us mentioned An Evening of Long Goodbyes, whose race had been so catastrophic that, by the end, neither Frank nor I could summon the will to gloat. He had begun badly, getting his head stuck in the gate and having to be extricated by the stewards, and continued with a series of humiliating and distinctly uncanine trips and stumbles, disgracing himself beyond redemption in the third lap, when his muzzle came off and, to the boos of the crowd, he abandoned the race to leap over the hoardings and snatch a hot dog from the hand of a small boy. ~ Paul Murray,
1097:William Ernest Henley Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. ~ Preeti Shenoy,
1098:1210
What If I Say I Shall Not Wait!
277
What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate—
And pass escaped—to thee!
What if I file this Mortal—off—
See where it hurt me—That's enough—
And wade in Liberty!
They cannot take me—any more!
Dungeons can call—and Guns implore
Unmeaning—now—to me—
As laughter—was—an hour ago—
Or Laces—or a Travelling Show—
Or who died—yesterday!
~ Emily Dickinson,
1099:never forget that lady. TRACY MORGAN: You know when I first saw Lorne Michaels? I was working at Yankee Stadium, before I got into show business. It’s where I met my wife fourteen years ago. I used to see Lorne Michaels go in Gate 4 every day. I was selling T-shirts and all that. I was a vendor at Yankee Stadium. Now look where I’m at. It was so ironic that I met Lorne Michaels like that. And now years later, he’s my boss and I’m working on his show. I didn’t know him. I was a kid from the ghetto, trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents. ~ James Andrew Miller,
1100:If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy, but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all His mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump", and it jumps but I don't love, I'm nothing.
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere.
So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.
(1 Cornithians 13 : 1-7) ~ Anonymous,
1101:John 6:35—He who comes to the Bread of Life will never go hungry. John 8:12—She who follows the Light of the world will never walk in darkness. John 10:7–9—Whoever enters through the Gate to the Sheep will be saved. John 10:11–14—He who belongs to the Good Shepherd receives protection and is known by the Shepherd. John 11:25—She who believes in the Resurrection and the Life will live, even though she dies. John 14:6—Whoever follows the Way and the Truth and the Life comes to the Father. John 15:1, 5—He who remains in the True Vine will bear much fruit. ~ Beth Moore,
1102:I called. Why wasn't anyone here?"- Elena We were here." Clay said. "Around, anyway. You should have left a message." I did. Two hours ago." - Elena Well that explains it. I've been out, by the gate all day, waiting for you, and you know Jer never checks the machine."- Clayton I didn't know how Clay had known I was coming back today when I hadn't left a message. Nor did I question why he'd spent the entire day waiting at the gate. Clay's behavior couldn't be measured by human standard's of normalcy... or by any standards of normalcy at all. Bitten ~ Kelley Armstrong,
1103:I Wrung My Hands
I wrung my hands under my dark veil. . .
"Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?"
-- Because I have made my loved one drunk
with an astringent sadness.
I'll never forget. He went out, reeling;
his mouth was twisted, desolate. . .
I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters,
and followed him as far as the gate.
And shouted, choking: "I meant it all
in fun. Don't leave me, or I'll die of pain."
He smiled at me -- oh so calmly, terribly -and said: "Why don't you get out of the rain?"
~ Anna Akhmatova,
1104:Now while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold, a company of the heavenly host came to meet them; to whom it was said by the other two Shining Ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name; and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, 'Blessed are they that are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb.' ~ John Bunyan,
1105:You go back to the Baldur's Gate days, we literally had 32-pixel characters strutting across the screen, and we'd have a couple lines of voice and a lot of text. On one hand, it's a reflection of the evolution of the technology. On the other hand, though, I think it's a reflection of our aspirations. We've always felt that the medium can get more and more cinematic, and I think when it follows the convention of Mass Effect 2 film, it grows more and more compelling. There's a hundred years of knowledge and learning in that space that we can then apply. ~ Greg Zeschuk,
1106:And when my father would tell me I would say to him, ‘Get to that lake—get my mother there—don’t let it happen again, not this time. Just once let’s tell it: how you got to the lake and built a house of fir boughs.’

And my father became very Chinese then. He said, There’s more beauty in the truth even if it is dreadful beauty. The storytellers at the city gate twist life so that it looks sweet to the lazy and the stupid and the weak, and this only strengthens their infirmities and teaches nothing, cures nothing, nor does it let the heart soar. ~ John Steinbeck,
1107:There are those, however, that are not frightened of grief: dropping deep into the sorrow, they find therein a necessary elixir to the numbness. When they encounter one another, when they press their foreheads against the bark of a centuries-old tree...their eyes well with tears that fall easily to the ground. The soil needs this water. Grief is but a gate, and our tears a kind of key opening a place of wonder thats been locked away. Suddenly we notice a sustaining resonance between the drumming heart within our chest and the pulse rising from the ground ~ David Abram,
1108:Mr. Micawber was waiting for me within the gate, and we went up to his room (top story but one), and cried very much. He solemnly conjured me, I remember, to take warning by his fate; and to observe that if a man had twenty pounds a-year for his income, and spent nineteen pounds nineteen shillings and sixpence, he would be happy, but that if he spent twenty pounds one he would be miserable. After which he borrowed a shilling of me for porter, gave me a written order on Mrs. Micawber for the amount, and put away his pocket-handkerchief, and cheered up. ~ Charles Dickens,
1109:She was watching morning television on a local Phoenix affiliate, which had shoved recipes and fashion aside in favor of crime. One presenter was reporting on the fatal shooting of a suspected organized crime figure behind a downtown strip club, which involved much breathless speculation laid over meaningless pictures, mostly of the closed gate in the pink fence, above a ticker that said Moscow Comes to Phoenix, which Reacher figured would annoy Ukrainians everywhere, the two countries being entirely separate now, and proud of it, at least in one direction. ~ Lee Child,
1110:About a week after they had come back, a load of mail came to the island. They were the first letters the men had received in several weeks, and for a night it relieved the changeless pattern of their lives. One of the infrequent rations of beer was given out the same night, and the men finished their three cans quickly, and sat about without saying very much. The beer had been far too inadequate to make them drunk; it made them only moody and reflective, it opened the gate to all their memories, and left them sad, hungering for things they could not name. ~ Norman Mailer,
1111:The stretch of the Appian Way past the Catacombs of San Sebastiano is the least interesting and most crowded (even dangerous). Avoid it by taking the pedestrian and bike path (open daily except Wed), which begins just past the Catacombs of San Sebastiano, at the intersection with Via delle Sette Chiese. To reach the path, go through the arch at #126. The quiet path parallels the Appian Way and takes you directly to the Catacombs of San Callisto. On Wednesdays, when the gate is closed, you’ll have to stay straight on Via Appia Antica, being careful of traffic. ~ Rick Steves,
1112:   Did Chuang Chou dream he was the butterfly?
    Or the butterfly dream he was Chuang Chou?
    In the single bodys transformations
    See the vortex of the Myriad Creatures.
    No mystery then that the Magic Seas
    Shrank again to crystal streams,
    Or down by Chang-ans Green Gate
    The gardener was Marquis of Tung-Ling.
    If this is the fate of fame and power,
    What is it for- this endless striving?
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Old Poem
,
1113:For me, the most efficient and compelling way to do that is to identify, right out of the gate, the character’s problem. And this is how the audience will see the character. The character is her problems. We remember her conflicts because that is who she is and why we are witnessing this particular segment of her life. Remember that thing I said (in the interlude on page 9!) about how a story is defined by the break in its status quo? So, too, is a character defined by her problems—and her problems represent exactly that breach of status quo I’m talking about. ~ Chuck Wendig,
1114:After Passing The Examination
For ten years I never left my books;
I went up ... and won unmerited praise.
My high place I do not much prize;
The joy of my parents will first make me proud.
Fellow students, six or seven men,
See me off as I leave the City gate.
My covered couch is ready to drive away;
Flutes and strings blend their parting tune.
Hopes achieved dull the pains of parting;
Fumes of wine shorten the long road ...
Shod with wings is the horse of him who rides
On a Spring day the road that leads to home.
~ Bai Juyi,
1115:As Cole and Pike slipped out, Stone said, “Want the M4? It’s ideal for urban assault.” Cole frowned at Stone. “You have an M4?” “Shit, yeah, man. Suppressed. Frangible bullets so you don’t kill a buncha people in the next house. Straight from the Delta Armory.” Cole looked at Pike. “Is he kidding?” “Let’s go.” Pike jogged away, and Cole fell in behind him. They slowed as they neared the house, then lingered at the nearest side gate to let a car pass. Neither spoke, and neither needed to. Pike had been on missions as long as a week, and never uttered a word. Pike ~ Robert Crais,
1116:From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the victories I seemed to score;
From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divinity,
Thou, who wouldst give no sign, deliver me.

Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust, instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn image of Thy head.
From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and the needle's eye,
Take from me all my trumpery lest I die. ~ C S Lewis,
1117:Rain
Since I lived a stranger in the City of Hsün-yang
Hour by hour bitter rain has poured.
On few days has the dark sky cleared;
In listless sleep I have spent much time.
The lake has widened till it almost joins the sky;
The clouds sink till they touch the water's face.
Beyond my hedge I hear the boatmen's talk;
At the street-end I hear the fisher's song.
Misty birds are lost in yellow air;
Windy sails kick the white waves.
In front of my gate the horse and carriage-way
In a single night has turned into a river-bed.
~ Bai Juyi,
1118:The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must I fly? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you see yonder wicket-gate? [Matt. 7:13,14] The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light? [Ps. 119:105; 2 Pet. 1:19] He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto: so shalt thou see the gate; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do.
{18} So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. ~ John Bunyan,
1119:I called. Why wasn't anyone here?"- Elena
We were here." Clay said. "Around, anyway. You should have left a message."
I did. Two hours ago." - Elena
Well that explains it. I've been out, by the gate all day, waiting for you, and you know Jer never checks the machine."- Clayton
I didn't know how Clay had known I was coming back today when I hadn't left a message. Nor did I question why he'd spent the entire day waiting at the gate. Clay's behavior couldn't be measured by human standard's of normalcy... or by any standards of normalcy at all.
Bitten ~ Kelley Armstrong,
1120:There was a pause. “I thought—I thought you were going to try to open the gate. Not that I want to push you, but . . . I don’t know, I think it’s the right thing to do.”
I scowled up at the ceiling, picking at the rug under my fingers. “Well, yeah, it probably is, but is pisses me off that they’re just assuming I will.”
Lend laughed, the sound making some of the tension in my shoulders relax. “Yeah, that’s paranormals for you. Always bossing people around. Prophecies this, prophecies that.”
“And do any of their prophecies say please? No, not a single one. ~ Kiersten White,
1121:Whenever I feel unhappy about the state of the world,' the Prime Minister thought to himself, 'I think about the Arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport, where happy, smiling passengers greet their friends and relatives. It seems to me that love is everywhere. It isn't big news - but it's always there. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, friends and strangers. When the planes hit New York, people's last phone calls weren't messages of hate. They were messages of love. If you look for it, you'll find - I think - that love actually is all around us ... ~ Anonymous,
1122:It was that evening, when my mother abdicated her authority, that marked the beginning, along with the slow death of my grandmother, of the decline of my will and of my health. Everything had been decided at the moment when, unable to bear the idea of waiting until the next day to set my lips on my mother's face, I had made my resolution, jumped out of bed, and gone, in my nightshirt, to stay by the window through which the moonlight came, until I heard M. Swann go. My parents having gone with him, I heard the garden gate open, the bell ring, the gate close again... ~ Marcel Proust,
1123:A young Latin guy with thick shoulders and dull eyes came out when I stopped, as if he had been waiting. “You the magazine guy?” The magazine guy. “That’s right. Elvis Cole. I have a ten o’clock with Ms. Morales.” “I gotta unlock the gate. See the empty spot where it says Delivery? Park there. You might want to put up the top and lock it.” “Think it’ll be safe?” That would be me, flashing the ironic smile at their overkill battlestar security. “For sure. They only steal clean cars.” That would be him, putting me in my place. He shook his head sadly as I drove past. “I ~ Robert Crais,
1124:Do not be inaccessible. None is so perfect that he does not need at times the advice of others. He is an incorrigible ass who will never listen to any one. Even the most surpassing intellect should find a place for friendly counsel. Sovereignty itself must learn to lean. There are some that are incorrigible simply because they are inaccessible: They fall to ruin because none dares to extricate them. The highest should have the door open for friendship; it may prove the gate of help. A friend must be free to advise, and even to upbraid, without feeling embarrassed. ~ Baltasar Gracian,
1125:Thus it transpired that even Berlin could be mysterious. Within the linden's bloom the streetlight winks. A dark and honeyed hush envelops us. Across the curb one's passing shadow slinks: across a stump a sable ripples thus. The night sky melts to peach beyond that gate. There water gleams, there Venice vaguely shows. Look at that street--it runs to China straight, and yonder star above the Volga glows! Oh, swear to me to put in dreams your trust, and to believe in fantasy alone, and never let your soul in prison rust, nor stretch your arm and say: a wall of stone. ~ Vladimir Nabokov,
1126:In pain shall you bring forth children, woman, and you shall turn to your husband and he shall rule over you. And do you not know that you are Eve? God's sentence hangs still over all your sex and His punishment weighs down upon you. You are the devil's gateway; you are she who first violated the forbidden tree and broke the law of God. It was you who coaxed your way around him whom the devil had not the force to attack. With what ease you shattered that image of God: Man! Because of the death you merited, even the Son of God had to die... Woman, you are the gate to hell. ~ Tertullian,
1127:The first thing I did when I was forty years old, I put handcuffs on and I jumped off Alcatraz prison and swam to San Francisco handcuffed. That made national publicity. Then, there were three or four years where I would do more difficult feats. Another birthday I towed a thousand pound boat across the Golden Gate. On my 65th Birthday I towed 65 boats a mile and a half in Tokyo. On my 70th Birthday I towed 70 boats with 70 people in it with my feet and hands tied a mile and a half in Long Beach.... My next Birthday I will be 93. I'm gonna tow my wife across the bathtub. ~ Jack LaLanne,
1128:I left through the front door just like the Koreans, nodded at the officers the way strangers do, and mumbled something about the heat. Spurlow nodded back and Lange ignored me, but the red-haired guy locked eyes with me and didn’t let go. I kept walking, just a man going to his car at the end of the day, only I wasn’t. Each step was careful and measured, and with each step I hoped they wouldn’t stop me. When I passed through the gate, Spurlow and Lange were inside, but the red-haired guy was in the door. He was watching me with eyes so narrow they looked like slits. Joe ~ Robert Crais,
1129:Even more than black death he dreaded the gaudy gate: the mask of sweet red rubber, the violet overhead lights, the rattling ride through washed corridors, the steaming, breathing, percolating apparatus, basins of pink sterilizer, the firm straps binding every limb, the sacred pure garb of the surgeons, their eyes alone showing, the cute knives and angled scissors, the beat of your own heart pounding through the burnished machinery, the green color of the surgeon’s enormous compassionate eyes, framed, his quick breath sucking and billowing the gauze of his mask as he carved. ~ Adam Begley,
1130:Alex closed his eyes and listened: a storefront gate sliding down. A dog barking hoarsely. The lowing of trucks over bridges. The velvety night in his ears. And the hum, always that hum, whih maybe wasn't an echo after all, but the sound of time passing.
th blu nyt
the stRs u cant c
th hum tht nevr gOs awy
A sound of clicking heels on the pavement punctured the quiet. Alex snapped open his eyes, and he and Bennie both turned – whirled, really, peering for Sasha in the ashy dark. But it was another girl, young and new to the city, fiddling with her keys." (p. 336) ~ Jennifer Egan,
1131:First Love Remembered
PEACE in her chamber, wheresoe'er
It be, a holy place:
The thought still brings my soul such grace
As morning meadows wear.
Whether it still be small and light,
A maid's who dreams alone,
As from her orchard-gate the moon
Its ceiling showed at night:
Or whether, in a shadow dense
As nuptial hymns invoke,
Innocent maidenhood awoke
To married innocence:
There still the thanks unheard await
The unconscious gift bequeathed:
For there my soul this hour has breathed
An air inviolate.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
1132:WEATHERS This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I; When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, And nestlings fly; And the little brown nightingale bills his best, And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,' And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, And citizens dream of the south and west, And so do I. This is the weather the shepherd shuns, And so do I; When beeches drip in browns and duns, And thresh and ply; And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, And meadow rivulets overflow, And drops on gate bars hang in a row, And rooks in families homeward go, And so do I. ~ Thomas Hardy,
1133:Always make a note of what you are doing and where it leads. By and by, you will become aware of that which is ego and that which is nature; which is real and which is false. It will take time and alertness, observation. And don't deceive yourself - because only ego leads to misery, nothing else. Don't throw the responsibility on the other; the other is irrelevant. Your ego leads to misery, nobody else leads you into misery. Ego is the gate of hell, and the natural, the authentic, the real that comes from your center, is the door to heaven. You will have to find it and work it out. ~ Rajneesh,
1134:Science fiction is a dialogue, a tennis match, in which the Idea is volleyed from one side of the net to the other. Ridiculous to say that someone 'stole' an idea: no, no, a thousand times no. The point is the volley, and how it's carried, and what statement is made by the answering 'statement.' In other words — if Burroughs initiates a time-gate and says it works randomly, and then Norton has time gates confounded with the Perilous Seat, the Siege Perilous of the Round Table, and locates it in a bar on a rainy night — do you see both the humor and the volley in the tennis match? ~ C J Cherryh,
1135:The poor lady must have dropped that", she said, and undid the gate stepping out to get it. Jared put his hand on it, "No". Mrs Jeffries stared down at him. "What do you mean...no?" Jared and Mrs.Jeffries stared back at each other,neither breaking eye contact in a perfect deadlock. Then Jared smiled at her. "I mean", he said with conviction, "it's mine." "It's what?" Jared stood up, pocketing the lipstick. "I know", he responded. "Everyone tells me i'm more of a summer". Mrs.Jeffries continued to stare. Jared continued to speak. "I'm going to go now. Me... and my lipstick. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan,
1136:Mary properly bore the name of Virgin, and possessed to the full all the attributes of purity. She was a virgin in both body and soul, and kept all the powers of her soul and her bodily senses far above any defilement. This she did authoritatively, steadfastly, decisively and altogether inviolably at all times, as a closed gate preserves the treasure within, and a sealed book keeps hidden from sight what is written inside. The Scriptures say of her, 'This is the sealed book' (cf. Rev. 5:1-6:1; Dan. 12:4) and 'this gate shall be shut, and no man shall enter by it' (Ezek. 44:2). ~ Gregory Palamas,
1137:So we rode through a broken gate in a broken wall into a broken town, and it was dusk, and the day's rain had finally lifted, and a shaft of red sunlight came from beneath the western clouds as we entered the ruined town. We rode straight into the light of that swollen sun which reflected from my helm that had the silver wolf on its crest, and it shone from my mail coat and from my arm rings and from the hilts of my two swords, and someone shouted that I was the king. I rode Witnere, who tossed his great head and pawed at the ground, and I was dressed in my shining war glory. ~ Bernard Cornwell,
1138:The sound of running footsteps made them all start. Then the refectory door opened and the round, freckled face of Sister Belinda appeared. She was breathing heavily, and her veil was crooked, showing short tufts of red hair sprouting around her glowing face like unruly weeds in a parched garden.
“Excuse me, Mother, Sisters,” she said. “But there is a police car waiting at the gate and what looks like the Black Maria behind it. Also, another car approaching from the farm and a uniformed constable coming in via the beach path. It would appear that the filth have us surrounded. ~ Sharon J Bolton,
1139:That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies; GEN22.18 And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice. GEN22.19 So Abraham returned unto his young men, and they rose up and went together to Beersheba; and Abraham dwelt at Beersheba. GEN22.20 And it came to pass after these things, that it was told Abraham, saying, Behold, Milcah, she hath also born children unto thy brother Nahor; ~ Anonymous,
1140:in?’ ‘I’ve got a key. Thanks.’ ‘No problem.’ Archer pushed open the gate as the guy returned his attention to the grill and walked towards the front door. He slid one of the two keys in the lock and twisted, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him. Inside, it was quiet. The sounds of birdsong from the trees and sizzling meat from the grill were suddenly gone. He moved up the stairs, past the second floor, and continued up to arrive outside the door to the third floor apartment. He took the second key and slid it into the lock. It fitted. This was the place. Archer paused. Then ~ Tom Barber,
1141:Lake Haven hadn’t become a fashionable summer getaway for the East Coast elite until somewhere around the fifties, about the time Grandma and Grandpa had opened the East Beach Lake Cottages. The houses built on the lake since then had big windows and rooms set at angles designed to capture the best views. But Ross house had its own unique charm. Once you entered through the stone gate, you knew you were entering an area of wealth and refined taste. You’d expect to find the woman of the house in Ralph Lauren, perhaps on her way to a golf game. You would not expect to find Nancy Yates. ~ Julia London,
1142:This web of time–the strands of which approach one another, bifurcate, intersect or ignore each other through the centuries–embraces every possibility. We do not exist in most of them. In some you exist and not I, while in others I do, and you do not, and yet in others both of us exist. In this one, in which chance has favored me, you have come to my gate. In another, you, crossing the garden, have found me dead. In yet another, I say these very same words but am in error, a phantom Time is forever dividing itself toward innumerable futures."

from “Garden of Forking Paths ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
1143:guards were in no hurry. We were glad of it. As we were passing through some of the villages, many Germans watched us, showing no surprise. No doubt they had seen quite a few of these processions … On the way, we saw some young German girls. The guards began to tease them. The girls giggled. They allowed themselves to be kissed and tickled, bursting with laughter. They all were laughing, joking, and passing love notes to one another. At least, during all that time, we endured neither shouting nor blows. After four hours, we arrived at the new camp: Buna. The iron gate closed behind us. ~ Elie Wiesel,
1144:With his divine alchemy he turns not only water into wine, but common things into radiant mysteries, yea, every meal into a eucharist, and the jaws of the sepulchre into an outgoing gate. I do not mean that he makes any change in the things or ways of God, but a mighty change in the hearts and eyes of men, so that God's facts and God's meanings become their faiths and their hopes. The destroying spirit, who works in the commonplace, is ever covering the deep and clouding the high. For those who listen to that spirit great things cannot be. Such are there, but they cannot see them, ~ George MacDonald,
1145:La Vierge Au Donateur
Here by the ample river’s argent sweep,
Bosomed in tilth and vintage to her walls,
A tower-crowned Cybele in armoured sleep
The city lies, fat plenty in her halls,
With calm parochial spires that hold in fee
The friendly gables clustered at their base,
And, equipoised o’er tower and market-place,
The Gothic minister’s winged immensity;
And in that narrow burgh, with equal mood,
Two placid hearts, to all life’s good resigned,
Might, from the altar to the lych-gate, find
Long years of peace and dreamless plenitude.
~ Edith Wharton,
1146:Nothing defined the latter half of England's Victorian age more than the way in which Darwin's claims shook the collective faith of Victorian society. The cataclysmic effect of Darwin's ideas on his society is described by historians as a crisis of faith that turned the once-hopeful period into an "age of anxiety" and an "age of doubt." The years surrounding the publication of Darwin's work are the narrow gate through which the age of belief passed into the age of unbelief, not only for England but for the entire Western world within the shockingly brief period of one generation. ~ Karen Swallow Prior,
1147:Will winced. “In our last few months together, I have seen unbelievable things that appear to have been spat out of hell itself. And I can’t help but wonder just what exactly does the Carian Gate hold back from this world, if we haven’t seen it yet?” Fastening his cuff, Devyl met his worried stare with a knowing smirk. “The most corrupt, horrifying evil that ever gurgled up from the farting arse of the cosmos.” “Lucifer?” He snorted and clapped Will on the back. “We should be so lucky. Nay, Mr. Death … what’s coming up from the sea makes Lucifer look like a petulant, harmless child. ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon,
1148:Yet Percy, even in the glimpses he had had in the streets, as he drove from the volor station outside the People's Gate, of the old peasant dresses, the blue and red-fringed wine carts, the cabbage-strewn gutters, the wet clothes flapping on strings, the mules and horses -- strange though these were, he had found them a refreshment. It had seemed to remind him that man was human, and not divine as the rest of the world proclaimed -- human, and therefore careless and individualistic; human, and therefore occupied with interests other than those of speed, cleanliness, and precision. ~ Robert Hugh Benson,
1149:If... God highly exalted Christ because He humbled Himself, suffered dishonour, was tempted and endured a shameful cross and death for our sake, how will He save, glorify and raise us up if we neither choose humility, nor show love to our fellows, nor gain our souls by enduring temptation (cf. Lk. 21:19), nor follow the saving Guide through the 'strait gate' and along the 'narrow way' leading to eternal life (Mt. 7:14)? To this end we were called, says Peter, the chief Apostle, ' Because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should follow His steps' (I Pet. 2:21). ~ Gregory Palamas,
1150:In the politics of eternity, the seduction by a mythicized past prevents us from thinking about possible futures. The habit of dwelling on victimhood dulls the impulse of self-correction. Since the nation is defined by its inherent virtue rather than by its future potential, politics becomes a discussion of good and evil rather than a discussion of possible solutions to real problems. Since the crisis is permanent, the sense of emergency is always present; planning for the future seems impossible or even disloyal. How can we even think of reform when the enemy is always at the gate? If ~ Timothy Snyder,
1151:Mona Lisa
Yon strange blue city crowns a scarped steep
No mortal foot hath bloodlessly essayed:
Dreams and illusions beacon from its keep.
But at the gate an Angel bares his blade;
And tales are told of those who thought to gain
At dawn its ramparts; but when evening fell
Far off they saw each fading pinnacle
Lit with wild lightnings from the heaven of pain;
Yet there two souls, whom life’s perversities
Had mocked with want in plenty, tears in mirth,
Might meet in dreams, ungarmented of earth,
And drain Joy’s awful chalice to the lees.
~ Edith Wharton,
1152:Moon, that against the lintel of the west
Your forehead lean until the gate be swung,
Longing to leave the world and be at rest,
Being worn with faring and no longer young,
Do you recall at all the Carian hill
Where worn with loving, loving late you lay,
Halting the sun because you lingered still,
While wondering candles lit the Carian day?
Ah, if indeed this memory to your mind
Recall some sweet employment, pity me,
That even now the dawn's dim herald see!
I charge you, goddess, in the name of one
You loved as well: endure, hold off the sun. ~ Edna St Vincent Millay,
1153:Zoom-In
Snow flowers in the midst of lonely night,
Lonely moments wrapped in the mist,
The walkway, lit with the dim light of moon,
Cold and black road at
The gate of deserted house,
A forlorn voice, clings desperately to the window,
Doorsill, drowned in an unknown fear,
Everything, bewildered andspeechless,
Weary and desolate,
A lone candle on the table,
With the head thrown back
Eyes, fixed at the door.
Coffee cup on the table, cold and quite,
Distressing thoughts, daydreams and I,
A lonely book, in my cold lap and I.
~ Amjad Islam Amjad,
1154:The Brinktown jail is one of the most ingenious ever propounded by civic authorities. It must be remembered that Brinktown occupies the surface of a volcanic butte, overlooking a trackless jungle of quagmire, thorn, eel-vine skiver tussock. A single road leads from city down to jungle; the prisoner is merely locked out of the city. Escape is at his option; he may flee as far through the jungle as he sees fit: the entire continent is at his disposal. But no prisoner ever ventures far from the gate; and, when his presence is required, it is only necessary to unlock the gate and call his name. ~ Jack Vance,
1155:The other four houses yielded jewelry, wallets, credit cards, laptops, iPads and Kindles, even a couple of expensive looking vases....

"You didn't do anything stupid like writing IOUs and signing your name, did you?"
"That's an excellent idea," said Danny. He stepped back through the gate, waited for a count of five, and then returned to Eric. Now Eric was standing, and when he saw Danny he visibly sagged with relief. "What kind of moron are you?"
"The fun-loving kind," said Danny. "I'm not an idiot, of course I didn't sign my name to IOUs."
"Good."
"I signed yours. ~ Orson Scott Card,
1156:Caden/Asshole drove a Land Rover.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.
And it was clean. I paused after I opened the door and could only stand there. It was impeccably clean.
He’d already gotten inside. “Please don’t tell me the leather offends you.”
“It’s so clean.”
“Yeah?”
I had no clue what came over me, but I broke out in a “Ta-daa!” and my arms lifted like heaven’s gate had been thrown open. A full choir and orchestra played out in my voice. “Behold the gloriousness!” Then I dropped my arms and was met with silence.
He tilted his head. “How much did you drink? ~ Tijan,
1157:Jesus had an affinity for prisoners. He had been one, after all. He must have often felt anxiety and isolation in jail, but He identified with the prisoners. He made a point of befriending the worst and most hated, because His message was that no one was beyond reach of divine love, despite society's way of stating the opposite. God, what a nut.

Finally we stood outside an inner gate, showed our IDs to the guards, and got our hands stamped with fluorescent ink. "You don't glow, you don't go," said one cheerful, pockmarked guard, which was the best spiritual advice I'd had in a long time. ~ Anne Lamott,
1158:They'd fallen into an easy routine, the three of them. Breakfast together in the morning, then Hughie would leave for work and she and Nell would get started in the house. Lil found she liked having a second shadow, enjoyed showing Nell things, explaining how they worked and why. Nell was a big one for asking why-why did the sun hide at night, why didn't the fire flames leap out of the gate, why didn't the river get bored and run the other way?-and Lil loved supplying answers, watching as understanding dawned on Nell's little face. For the first time in her life, Lil felt useful, needed, whole. ~ Kate Morton,
1159:Before opening the gate, I was told, the doorman would push one of two buttons. One would ring a bell that would bring the maître d’ bustling out to meet the patrons. The other button would sound an alarm that meant revenue agents. The doorman would delay the federal agents as long as he could. By the time they got inside there was no evidence of liquor in the place, except for a few drinks sitting in front of individual customers. If they tried to confiscate those, an angry argument would ensue about whether the prohibition law meant it was illegal to drink liquor or simply precluded its sale. The ~ Ray Kroc,
1160:I wish I could tell you that the thought of deserting Vera never entered my mind, that my friend was in danger and I went to her rescue without hesitation. Truly, though, at that moment I hated her. I hated her for being clumsy at the worst possible time, for staring up at me with her panicked brown eyes, electing me to be her savior even though Grisha was the only one she had ever kissed. I knew that I could not live with the memory of those eyes pleading for me, and she knew it, too, and I hated her even as I jumped down from the gate, lifted her to her feet, and hauled her to the iron bars. ~ David Benioff,
1161:A bright moon rising above Tian Shan Mountain,
Lost in a vast ocean of clouds.
The long wind, across thousands upon thousands of miles,
Blows past the Jade-gate Pass.
The army of Han has gone down the Baiteng Road,
As the barbarian hordes probe at Qinghai Bay.
It is known that from the battlefield
Few ever live to return.
Men at Garrison look on the border scene,
Home thoughts deepen sorrow on their faces.
In the towered chambers tonight,
Ceaseless are the women's sighs.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Moon Over Mountain Pass
,
1162:Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly,
And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking.
Which was the realthe butterfly or the man ?
Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things?
The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea
Returns anon to the shallows of a transparent stream.
The man, raising melons outside the green gate of the city,
Was once the Prince of the East Hill.
So must rank and riches vanish.
You know it, still you toil and toil,what for?

by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly
,
1163:I had no thought, that night—none, I am quite sure—of what was soon to happen to me. But I have always remembered since, that when we had stopped at the garden gate to look up at the sky, and when we went upon our way, I had for a moment an undefinable impression of myself as being something different from what I then was. I know it was then, and there, that I had it. I have ever since connected the feeling with that spot and time, and with everything associated with that spot and time, to the distant voices in the town, the barking of a dog, and the sound of wheels coming down the miry hill. ~ Charles Dickens,
1164:I have done everything that you have asked, Brother Saxon,’ he told Eadulf. ‘Brother Madagan has regained consciousness but is weak. Abbot Ségdae has also recovered and is trying to organise the brethren to face our enemies with more discipline.’ He glanced rather shamefaced at Fidelma. ‘We did not acquit ourselves well at the gate when the warrior came, Sister. For that I must apologise.’ Fidelma was forgiving. ‘You are Brothers of the Faith and not warriors. There is no blame on you.’ She was still peering anxiously southward where she had detected the movement of a body of horsemen. Brother ~ Peter Tremayne,
1165:Then he skipped out, and saw Sid just starting up the outside stairway that led to the back rooms on the second floor. Clods were handy and the air was full of them in a twinkling. They raged around Sid like a hail-storm; and before Aunt Polly could collect her surprised faculties and sally to the rescue, six or seven clods had taken personal effect, and Tom was over the fence and gone. There was a gate, but as a general thing he was too crowded for time to make use of it. His soul was at peace, now that he had settled with Sid for calling attention to his black thread and getting him into trouble. ~ Mark Twain,
1166:THE GATE TO BLISS Meditation is the gate that opens that [infinite joy] to us. Prayers, ceremonials, and all the other forms of worship are simply kindergartens of meditation. You pray, you offer something. A certain theory existed that everything raised one’s spiritual power. The use of certain words, flowers, images, temples, ceremonials like the waving of lights brings the mind to that attitude, but that attitude is always in the human soul, nowhere else. People are all doing it; but what they do without knowing it, do knowingly. That is the power of meditation. Slowly and gradually we are ~ Swami Vivekananda,
1167:A pathway of destruction and carnage made its way through the city and devastated the palace and the Ishtar Gate. The structures crumbled to mounds of painted bricks and broken bodies. Then as quickly as the destruction had fallen upon them it was gone. The funnel cloud retracted to the sky and the storm vanished. And everything was eerily still.              Then cries of pain and misery from human victims echoed throughout the city. Countless thousands lay dead, half again as many injured. They were bruised, cut, maimed and crushed by the debris of mud brick and stone that now lay across the city. ~ Brian Godawa,
1168:One And One Are Two
1 and 1 are 2 That's for me and you.
2 and 2 are 4 That's a couple more.
3 and 3 are 6
Barley-sugar sticks.
4 and 4 are 8
Tumblers at the gate.
5 and 5 are 10
Bluff seafaring men.
6 and 6 are 12
Garden lads who delve.
7 and 7 are 14
Young men bent on sporting.
8 and 8 are 16
Pills the doctor's mixing.
9 and 9 are 18
Passengers kept waiting.
10 and 10 are 20
Roses - pleasant plenty!
11 and 11 are 22
Sums for brother George to do.
12 and 12 are 24
Pretty pictures, and no more.
~ Christina Georgina Rossetti,
1169:Several months ago there was a somewhat, in some people's eyes, relatively normal Cal--or by and large normal--the best he was able to be as half Auphe. Occasionally he did lose his shit, attacked and ate deer while on road trips through the woods, created massive holes in between dimensions to shove through malevolently murderous pucks, and once in a while ripped out an Auphe's throat with his teeth. He also opened a gate or two to save his friends, blew up an antihealer from the inside out to save the world, cleaned his guns while watching porn, and generally was a smart-ass to everyone.
Normal. ~ Rob Thurman,
1170:Something else too. Private Gallagher sees it first, points–slowly, but emphatically. On the other side of the green is exactly what the sergeant told them to look for: a big detached house, two storeys, standing in its own grounds. It’s a mini-mansion of modern design, masquerading as a country house of an earlier age–but given away by its anachronistic excess. It’s a Frankenstein’s monster of a house, with a half-timbered front, Gothic arches on the ground-floor windows, pilasters framing the front door, gables adhering like barnacles to the roof ridge. The sign on the gate says WAINWRIGHT HOUSE. “Good ~ M R Carey,
1171:Ineluctable modality of the visible: at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, that rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Limits of the diaphane. But he adds: in bodies. Then he was aware of them bodies before of them coloured. How? By knocking his sconce against them, sure. Go easy. Bald he was and a millionaire, MAESTRO
DI COLOR CHE SANNO. Limit of the diaphane in. Why in? Diaphane, adiaphane. If you can put your five fingers through it it is a gate, if not a door. Shut your eyes and see. ~ James Joyce,
1172:No matter, they weren’t going anywhere. Never again. Two skeletons buried beneath a dead city. No more fitting a barrow for a warrior of the Apocalypse and a Malazan soldier. That seemed just, poetic even. He would not complain, and when he stood at this sergeant’s side at Hood’s Gate, he would be proud for the company.So much had changed inside him. He was no believer in causes, not any more. Certainty was an illusion, a lie. Fanaticism was poison in the soul, and the first victim in its inexorable, ever-growing list was compassion. Who could speak of freedom, when one’s own soul was bound in chains? ~ Steven Erikson,
1173:Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul. ~ William Ernest Henley,
1174:Prayer
Echo of the clocktower, footstep
in the alleyway, sweep
of the wind sifting the leaves.
Jeweller of the spiderweb, connoisseur
of autumn’s opulence, blade of lightning
harvesting the sky.
Keeper of the small gate, choreographer
of entrances and exits, midnight
whisper travelling the wires.
Seducer, healer, deity or thief,
I will see you soon enough—
in the shadow of the rainfall,
in the brief violet darkening a sunset—
but until then I pray watch over him
as a mountain guards its covert ore
and the harsh falcon its flightless young.
~ Dana Gioia,
1175:Less violent diversions can also be cited. An inspection of the pupils of Magdalen College, Oxford, in the very early years of the sixteenth century, revealed that ‘Stokes was unchaste with the wife of a tailor … Stokysley baptised a cat and practised witchcraft … Gregory climbed the great gate by the tower and brought a Stranger into College … Pots and cups are very seldom washed but are kept in such a dirty state that one shudders to drink out of them … Kyftyll played cards with the butler at Christmas time for money.’ Other students were accused of keeping as pets a ferret, a sparrowhawk and a weasel. ~ Peter Ackroyd,
1176:Walt looked over his shoulder at a sound and both men watched as Vanni opened the corral gate, mounted Chico and rode away from the ranch, down along the riverbank. “Well, she’s getting away from you. If you have a case to plead and don’t want to do it in front of her father and brother, I guess you’ll have to go after her.” Paul put his still-full cup of coffee on the patio table. “Can I borrow a horse, sir?” “Knock yourself out,” the general said. “Thank you, sir,” he said, clambering down the deck stairs and taking off for the stable. Walt watched him run. Then he shook his head and said, “Holy Jesus.” * ~ Robyn Carr,
1177:There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear;
She is coming, my life, my fate.
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"
And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"
The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"
And the lily whispers, "I wait."

She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red. ~ Alfred Tennyson,
1178:We healed each other,” Lexi said, without removing her attention from her husband. “We were both lost and knocked down, but we held on tight, and raised each other from the ashes. He brought me my rainbow, Elsie,” she huffed a loving laugh and said, “he brought me the stars.”

I didn’t know what that reference meant, but I could feel the magnitude of what he meant to her. Lexi slipped out of the car and I did too. I walked to the back gate, staying out of sight. I glanced back, seeing Austin, with his gang tattoos and intimidating stature, taking Lexi in his arms and pressing a soft kiss on her mouth. ~ Tillie Cole,
1179:When I got to know Mandela better, he explained that as a young man he had a quick temper. In prison he learned to control his emotions in order to survive. His years in jail had given him the time and motivation to look deeply into his own heart and to deal with the pain he found. He reminded me that gratitude and forgiveness, which often result from pain and suffering, require tremendous discipline. The day his imprisonment ended, he told me, “as I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison. ~ Hillary Rodham Clinton,
1180:A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

- "Auguries of Innocence ~ William Blake,
1181:It will generally be found that, as soon as the terrors of life reach the point at which they outweigh the terrors of death, a man will put an end to his life. But the terrors of death offer considerable resistance; they stand like a sentinel at the gate leading out of this world. Perhaps there is no man alive who would not have already put an end to his life, if this end had been of a purely negative character, a sudden stoppage of existence. There is something positive about it; it is the destruction of the body; and a man shrinks from that, because his body is the manifestation of the will to live. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
1182:Obscur Et Fronce
Dark, wrinkled as a purple pink,
It breathes, it nestles in that bed of moss,
Still damp from love, which hugs the slope,
The white thighs' slope, to crater's heart.
Threads, gossamer, milky tears
Wept, wept, in scouring wind
That drove them on clots of scarlet scree
Till they tumbled on the edge, were gone.
My dreams touch kisses, kisses to the gate.
Soul envies couplings of the flesh,
Its tear-bottle this, its nest of sobs.
Ecstatic olive! Seductive flute!
Throat sucking almond-sweet sublime!
Moss-circled, female, promised land!
~ Arthur Rimbaud,
1183:It will generally be found that, as soon as the terrors of life reach the point at which they outweigh the terrors of death, a man will put an end to his life. But the terrors of death offer considerable resistance; they stand like a sentinel at the gate leading out of this world. Perhaps there is no man alive who would not have already put an end to his life, if this end had been of a purely negative character, a sudden stoppage of existence. There is something positive about it; it is the destruction of the body; and a man shrinks from that, because his body is the manifestation of the will to live. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer,
1184:Summer is the season of motion, winter is the season of form. In summer everything moves save the fixed and inert. Down the hill flows the west wind, making wavelets in the shorter grass and great billows in the standing hay; the tree in full leaf sways its heavy boughs below and tosses its leaves above; the weed by the gate bends and turns when the wind blows down the road. It is the shadow of moving things that we usually see, and the shadows are themselves in motion. The shadow of a branch, speckled through with light, wavers across the lawn, the sprawling shadow of the weed moves and sways across the dust. ~ Henry Beston,
1185:Cooper grinned at me. “So, are you going to see me off at the airport? Stand in the terminal lounge, staring out the window, waiting for my plane to take off?”
I snorted. “Um, no. I was going to drop you off at the departure terminal so I didn’t have to get a parking spot.”
He gaped and narrowed his eyes. “When you get home, do me a favour and Google the word chivalry,” he said flatly. “It’s spelled c-h-i-v—”
“Shut up,” I said with a laugh.
“Or even look up the definition of ‘nice boyfriend’. I’m pretty sure it says ‘does not drop off loved one at terminal gate’ or ‘does not tell boyfriend to shut up’. ~ N R Walker,
1186:For the young, there is nothing unattainable; a good thing desired with the whole force of a passionate will, and yet impossible, is to them not credible. Yet, by death, by illness, by poverty, or by the voice of duty, we must learn, each one of us, that the world was not made for us, and that, however beautiful may be the things we crave, Fate may nevertheless forbid them. It is the part of courage, when misfortune comes, to bear without regretting the ruin of our hopes, to turn away our thoughts from vain regrets. This degree of submission to power is not only just and right: it is the very gate of wisdom. ~ Bertrand Russell,
1187:something hard, she presses her lips together just in time to silence a yelp that nearly escapes her throat. “Move!” the guard yells, but marches by without stopping. Finally, Mila senses a structure overhead. They are beneath the main entrance—the arched vehicle gate. A gust of wind lashes at their backs and Mila reaches for her hat to keep it from blowing away. She tugs its brim low over her brow and glances down at Felicia, who is white in the face but whose expression is remarkably calm. Stay focused, Mila reminds herself. You’re so close! Count your steps. One . . . two . . . They creep backward. Three . . . ~ Georgia Hunter,
1188:Wait a second,” Andy said, snapping his fingers. “You're Vietnamese.” “Don't say it,” Sun warned. But Andy, a grin stretched across his face, couldn't resist. “You're a Vietnam vet.” Sun’s face became even harder, something Andy hadn't thought possible. “Never heard that one before. Open the pen there.” Andy lifted the latch on the gate and Sun led the sheep out of the pen and over to the entrance door. “I've visited Viet Nam twice,” Andy said. “Beautiful place. All of those war movies make it look like hell, but it's actually very tranquil, don't you think?” “I wouldn't know. I've never been there. I’m an American. ~ Lee Goldberg,
1189:But when you walk through yonder gate,” Churchill said, pointing toward the Middle Tower at the end of the causeway, which was visible only as a crenellated cutout in the orange sky, “you’ll find yourself in a London you no longer know. The changes wrought by the Fire were nothing. In that London, loyalty and allegiance are subtle and fluxional. ’Tis a chessboard with not only black and white pieces, but others as well, in diverse shades. You’re a Bishop, and I’m a Knight, I can tell that much by our shapes, and the changes we have wrought on the board; but by fire-light ’Tis difficult to make out your true shade. ~ Neal Stephenson,
1190:When I look back on that time, it’s with the strangest stew of emotions: love, longing, terror, horror, regret, and the deep sweetness only those who’ve been near death can know. I think it’s how Adam and Eve must have felt. Surely they looked back at Eden, don’t you think, as they started barefoot down the path to where we are now, in our glum political world of bullets and bombs and satellite TV? Looked past the angel guarding the shut gate with his fiery sword? Sure. I think they must have wanted one more look at the green world they had lost, with its sweet water and kind-hearted animals. And its snake, of course. ~ Stephen King,
1191:There was always something yet unseen. The ground itself was daily renewed, kicked up and muddled by passing travelers, such that it was impossible to repeat the same journey twice. Alif thought of all the times he had left the duplex in Baqara District bent on some mundane errand: the courtyard gate closing behind him with a rattle, rattling again when he returned the same way; to him, ordinary and frustrating, to the world, a process full of tiny variations, all existing, as Sheikh Bilal had said, simultaneously and without contradiction. He had been given eternity in modest increments, and had thought nothing of it. ~ G Willow Wilson,
1192:The Call Of The Nightingale
Awake! awake!
Sleep no more, my gentle mate!
With your tiny tawny bill,
Wake the tuneful echo shrill,
On vale or hill;
Or in her airy rocky seat,
Let her listen and repeat
The tender ditty that you tell,
The sad lament,
The dire event,
To luckless Itys that befell.
Thence the strain
Shall rise again,
And soar amain,
Up to the lofty palace gate
Where mighty Apollo sits in state
In Jove's abode, with his ivory lyre,
Hymning aloud to the heavenly choir,
While all the gods shall join with thee
In a celestial symphony.
~ Aristophanes,
1193:As the carriage proceeded past the main gate, the estate mansion came into view. Contrary to Pandora's expectations, it wasn't at all cold and imposing. It was a gracious, low-slung residence of two stories, inhabiting its surroundings with comfortable ease. Its classic lines were softened by an abundance of glossy green ivy that mantled the cream stucco façade, and arbors of pink roses that arched cheerfully over the courtyard entrance. Two extended wings curved around the front gardens, as if the house had decided to fill its arms with bouquets. Nearby, a slope of dark, dreaming forest rested beneath a blanket of sunlight. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
1194:Down the street, tree branches strung in purple Halloween lights began to shudder and sway. Dusty whirlwinds rose from the ground, and from the north came a great rush of wind.
From Congo Square, she thought. Where the slaves danced and sang.
"...and St. Louis Cemetery," whispered in her ear.
The wind blew as cold as the icy breath of Lake Superior. Blowing veins seizured round the wrought iron gate. Yet the music continued. The only one oblivious to the sudden shift in the air--as if she were expecting it--was Angelique, who continued her dance, face to the sky. As though nothing had changed, though everything had. ~ Eve Wallinga,
1195:The best antidote to worry is action. If there is an action that will lessen the likelihood of a dreaded outcome occurring, and if that action doesn't cost too much in terms of effort or freedom, then take it. The worry about whether we remembered to close the baby gate at the top of the stairs can be stopped in an instant by checking. Then it isn't a worry anymore; it's just a brief impulse. Almost all of the worry parents feel about keeping their children safe evolves from the conflict between intuition and inaction.

Your choices when worrying are clear: take action, have faith, pray, seek comfort, or keep worrying. ~ Gavin de Becker,
1196:At The Last
Where are you--you whose loving breath
Alone can stay my soul from death?
The world's so wide, I seek it through,
Yet--dare I dream to win to you?
Perhaps your dear desired feet
Pass me in this grey muddy street.
Your face, it may be, has its shrine
In that dull house that's next to mine.
But I believe, O Life, O Fate,
That when I call on Death and wait
One moment at the unclosing gate
I shall turn back for one last gaze
Along the trampled, sordid ways,
And in the sunset see at last,
Just as the barred gate holds me fast,
Your face, your face, too late.
~ Edith Nesbit,
1197:Faith Is Sometimes Spelled R-I-S-K Then the word of the LORD came to him: “Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food.”      So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”      “As surely as the LORD your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take ~ R T Kendall,
1198:For a moment, at the frontier, the bonds of custom are broken and unrestraint is triumphant … Each frontier did indeed furnish a new field of opportunity, a gate of escape from the bondage of the past; and freshness, and confidence, and scorn of older society, impatience of its restraints and its ideas, and indifference to its lessons, have accompanied the frontier. What the Mediterranean Sea was to the Greeks, breaking the bond of custom, offering new experiences, calling out new institutions and activities, that, and more, the ever retreating frontier has been to the United States directly, and to the nations of Europe more remotely. ~ Max More,
1199:The iron fettering on the gate read "Arbeit Macht Frei".
"What do you think that means?" asked a man from behind them in line.
"Abandon hope all ye who enter here," replied Alexander.
"No," said Misnoy. "It means, 'Work will set you free,'"
"Like I was saying."
Misnoy laughed. "This must be a Class One camp. For political prisoners. Probably Sachsenhausen. In Buchenwald, the engraving didn't say that. It was for more serious, more permanent offenders."
"Like you?"
"Like me." He smiled pleasantly. "Buchenwald read, 'Jeden das Seine. To Each His Own.'"
"The Germans are so fucking inspiring," said Alexander. ~ Paullina Simons,
1200:this one four or five feet high. The horse’s ears pricked and its stride lengthened as it approached the jump. Rachel’s body stretched along the animal’s neck as they soared over the top rail. The girl slumped as Rachel slowed the horse and walked to her side. Rachel dismounted and handed the girl the reins. “Cool him out.” With a hard look at Mike and Sean, the slim man moved to the entrance. He focused intently on Rachel as she opened the gate. After the girl and horse passed through and headed for the barn, the man stepped up behind Rachel. “You were supposed to train the horse so that my daughter can ride it,” he said quietly. ~ Melinda Leigh,
1201:Corus lay on the southern bank of the Oloron River, towers glinting in the sun. The homes of wealthy men lined the river to the north; tanners, smiths, wainwrights, carpenters, and the poor clustered on the bank to the south. The city was a richly colored tapestry: the Great Gate on Kings-bridge, the maze of the Lower City, the marketplace, the tall houses in the Merchants' and the Gentry's quarters, the gardens of the Temple district, the palace. This last was the city's crown and southern border. Beyond it, the royal forest stretched for leagues. It was not as lovely as Berat nor as colorful as Udayapur, but it was Alanna's place. ~ Tamora Pierce,
1202:Failure

Because God put His adamantine fate
Between my sullen heart and its desire,
I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate,
Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire.
Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy,
But Love was as a flame about my feet;
Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat
Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry --

All the great courts were quiet in the sun,
And full of vacant echoes: moss had grown
Over the glassy pavement, and begun
To creep within the dusty council-halls.
An idle wind blew round an empty throne
And stirred the heavy curtains on the walls. ~ Rupert Brooke,
1203:The words now had meaning. All poetry had meaning, and sorrow she had never envisaged. Behind, veiled in soft rain as the dragon-prowed barge slid across the grey water to Pera, she saw for the last time close at hand the soft, frescoed height of the Seraglio, heart of the Ottoman world, its domes and chimneys and towers, its tall cypresses and gardens picked out in grisaille and gold.

Today, perhaps, the Gate of the Dead would perform its true office for a small boy whose heritage no one knew; who had lived in squalor and perished in fright. A sacrifice to diminish the soul. A sacrifice to colour all the rest of one’s days. ~ Dorothy Dunnett,
1204:Outside, I take in the fact that the night is deeply dusky and warm, and that feels like a balm after the cold air inside. I notice a strong smell from the glowing white roses that hang over the churchyard gate and the dark fluttering of bats that swarm from a high corner of the church tower. Around us, as we walk in the tired grass, gravestones whose cadaverous foundations have failed them lean against one another for support. I see a Celtic cross, the contours of lichen covered stone mounds, writing everywhere, words of remembrance, and, above us, the dark, pointed leaves of the yew tree greedily sucking away the last of the light. ~ Gilly Macmillan,
1205:A plaque just outside remembers June 30, 1944. That night, Nazi forces were planning to blow up the arch to slow the Allied advance. To save their treasured landmark, Volterrans ripped up the stones that pave Via Porta all’Arco and plugged the gate, managing to convince the Nazi commander that there was no need to blow up the arch. Today, all the stones are back in their places, and like silent heroes, they welcome you through the oldest standing Etruscan gate into Volterra. Locals claim this as the only surviving round arch of the Etruscan age; most experts believe this is where the Romans got the idea for using a keystone in their arches. ~ Rick Steves,
1206:The Sunlit House
White, through the gate it gleamed and slept
In shattered sunshine. The parched garden flowers
Their scarlet petals from the beds unswept
Like children unloved and ill-kept
Dreamed through the hours Two blue hydrangeas by the blistered door burned
brown
Watched there, and no one in the town
Cared to go past it night or day
Though why this was they wouldn't say
But I, the stranger, knew that I must stay.
Pace up the weed-grown paths and down Till one afternoon - there is just a doubt Bit I fancy I heard a tiny shout From an upper window a bird flew out And I went my way.
~ Charlotte Mary Mew,
1207:Tip had turned his liberty to hopeful account by becoming a billiard-marker. He had troubled himself so little as to the means of his release, that Clennam scarcely needed to have been at the pains of impressing the mind of Mr Plornish on that subject. Whoever had paid him the compliment, he very readily accepted the compliment with HIS compliments, and there was an end of it. Issuing forth from the gate on these easy terms, he became a billiard-marker; and now occasionally looked in at the little skittle-ground in a green Newmarket coat (second-hand), with a shining collar and bright buttons (new), and drank the beer of the Collegians. ~ Charles Dickens,
1208:Alone
THE lilies clustered fair and tall;
I stood outside the garden wall;
I saw her light robe glimmering through
The fragrant evening's dusk and dew.
She stopped above the lilies pale;
Up the clear east the moon did sail;
I saw her bend her lovely head
O'er her rich roses blushing red.
Her slender hand the flowers caressed,
Her touch the unconscious blossoms blessed;
The rose against her perfumed palm
Leaned its soft cheek in blissful calm.
I would have given my soul to be
That rose she touched so tenderly!
I stood alone, outside the gate,
And knew that life was desolate.
~ Celia Thaxter,
1209:Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs. It was they who led me from door to door, and with them have I felt about me, searching and touching my world. It was my songs that taught me all the lessons I ever learnt; they showed me secret paths, they brought before my sight many a star on the horizon of my heart. They guided me all the day long to the mysteries of the country of pleasure and pain, and, at last, to what palace gate have they brought me in the evening at the end of my journey? [1884.jpg] -- from Gitanjali, by Rabindranath Tagore

~ Rabindranath Tagore, (101) Ever in my life have I sought thee with my songs (from Gitanjali)
,
1210:He who is capable of really reading a writer will have his every question answered by the works themselves. For example, Kafka depicts the dreams & visions of his lonely, difficult life and it is these dreams & visions alone that should preoccupy us & not the interpretations that sharp-witted critics can give these writings. Their interpreting is an intellectual sport, one that is good for clever people who can read & write books on African sculpture or 12-tone music but who never get to the heart of works of art because they stand at the gate fumbling with their 100 keys, blind to the fact that the gate is not really locked. ~ Hermann Hesse,
1211:Mr. Sheets
The Devil stood before the gate
Of Heaven. He had a single mate:
Behind him, in his shadow, slunk
Clay Sheets in a perspiring funk.
'Saint Peter, see this season ticket,'
Said Satan; 'pray undo the wicket.'
The sleepy Saint threw slight regard
Upon the proffered bit of card,
Signed by some clerical dead-beats:
'Admit the bearer and Clay Sheets.'
Peter expanded all his eyes:
''Clay Sheets?'-well, I'll be damned!' he cries.
'Our couches are of golden cloud;
Nothing of earth is here allowed.
I'll let you in,' he added, shedding
On Nick a smile-'but not your bedding.'
~ Ambrose Bierce,
1212:The penny finally dropped for me. I could see that Jesus bowed before our hatred to enter into our darkness—and he did—but instead of his Father forsaking him at that moment, his Father was in him and in the Holy Spirit. That is what John had been trying to help me see. On the cross Jesus brought his union with his Father in the Holy Spirit into His union with me, with us, with the world in our sin. The divine embrace. Heaven’s gate! In that moment all my questions stopped, and I wept at the genius and the stunning humility and the love of Jesus for me, for us all. I in them—I, with my Father and the Holy Spirit—in them and they in me. Then ~ C Baxter Kruger,
1213:One grave in every graveyard belongs to the ghouls. Wander any graveyard long enough and you will find it - water stained and bulging, with cracked or broken stone, scraggly grass or rank weeds about it, and a feeling, when you reach it, of abandonment. It may be colder than the other gravestones, too, and the name on the stone is all too often impossible to read. If there is a statue on the grave it will be headless or so scabbed with fungus and lichens as to look like fungus itself. If one grave in a graveyard looks like a target for petty vandals, that is the ghoul-gate. If the grave wants to make you be somewhere else, that is the ghoul-gate. ~ Neil Gaiman,
1214:It is inspiriting without doubt to whizz in a motor-car round the earth, to feel Arabia as a whirl of sand or China as a flash of rice-fields. But Arabia is not a whirl of sand and China is not a flash of rice-fields. They are ancient civilizations with strange virtues buried like treasures. If we wish to understand them it must not be as tourists or inquirers, it must be with the loyalty of children and the great patience of poets. To conquer these places is to lose them. The man standing in his own kitchen-garden, with fairyland opening at the gate, is the man with large ideas. His mind creates distance; the motor-car stupidly destroys it.... ~ G K Chesterton,
1215:Just put them on, Archie, there’s a good chap, you can’t walk around like that, the Muggle on the gate’s already getting suspicious –’ ‘I bought this in a Muggle shop,’ said the old wizard stubbornly. ‘Muggles wear them.’ ‘Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these,’ said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. ‘I’m not putting them on,’ said old Archie in indignation. ‘I like a healthy breeze round my privates, thanks.’ Hermione was overcome with such a strong fit of the giggles at this point that she had to duck out of the queue, and only returned when Archie had collected his water and moved away again. ~ J K Rowling,
1216:Oh, you're very clever," said Ellie. She almost gasped the words: her fury made her breathless. She pushed through the school gate in front of Angel. Her head was high and the colour bright in her cheeks. She had the contemptuous look Angel was often to meet in women, who, feeling their calm threatened by the unconventional, from fear of inadequacy fall back on rage; and Ellie's anger came suddenly in a great gust, so that she longed to spin round and hit Angel's pale face. "You would," she cried. "Of course, you would think such things. Who would expect you to believe in Holy Matrimony? Why, it would be very strange if you did. ~ Elizabeth Taylor,
1217:Time is endless in thy hands, my lord.
There is none to count thy minutes.

Days and nights pass and ages bloom and fade like flowers.
Thou knowest how to wait.

Thy centuries follow each other perfecting a small wild flower.

We have no time to lose,
and having no time we must scramble for a chance.
We are too poor to be late.

And thus it is that time goes by
while I give it to every querulous man who claims it,
and thine altar is empty of all offerings to the last.

At the end of the day I hasten in fear lest thy gate be shut;
but I find that yet there is time.

~ Rabindranath Tagore, Endless Time
,
1218:Underground Airlines is a figure of speech: it's the root of a grand, extended metaphor, "pilots" and "stewards" and "baggage handlers" and "gate agents." Connecting flights and airport security. The Airlines flies on the ground, in package trucks and unmarked vans and stolen tractor-trailers. It flies in the illicit adjustment of numbers on packing slips, in the suborning of plantation guards and the bribing of border security agents, in the small arts of persuasion: by threat or cashier's check or blow job. The Airlines is orders placed by imaginary corporations for unneeded items to be shipped to such-and-such a place at such-and-such a time. ~ Ben H Winters,
1219:Begging Aid
Whilst our children
Become smaller than guns,
Elders become big
Circus Lions
Away from home.
Whilst the manes age
In the Zoos
That now our homelands
Have become,
Markets of leftovers,
Guns are taller
Than our children.
In the beggarhood
Of a Circus
That now is home,
The whip of the Ringmaster
Cracks with a snap
That eats through
The backs of our being.
Hands stretching
In a prayer
Of submission
In a beggarhood
Of Elders delicately
Performing the tightrope
To amuse the Gate
For Tips
That will bring home
Toys of death.
~ David Rubadiri,
1220:There is a sign on the gate of this [BYU] campus that reads: 'Enter to learn; go forth to serve.' I invite you, every one of you, to make that your motto. Mediocrity will never do. You are capable of something better. Give it your very best. You will never again have such an opportunity. Pray about it. Work at it. Make it happen. Drink in the great knowledge here to be obtained from this dedicated faculty. Qualify yourselves for the work of the world that lies ahead. It will largely compensate you in terms of what it thinks you are worth. Walk the high road of charity, respect, and love for others and particularly those who are less fortunate. ~ Gordon B Hinckley,
1221:When your three-year-old erupts in anger because there are no orange Popsicles left in the freezer, his downstairs brain, including the brain stem and amygdala, has sprung into action and latched the baby gate. This primitive part of his brain has received an intense surge of energy, leaving him literally unable to act calmly and reasonably. Massive brain resources have rushed to his downstairs brain, leaving little to power his upstairs brain. As a result, no matter how many times you tell him that you have plenty of purple Popsicles (which he liked better than orange last time anyway), he’s probably not going to listen to reason in this moment. ~ Daniel J Siegel,
1222:And, ah! his castle. The faery solitude of the place, with its turrets of mistly blue, its courtyard, its spiked gate, his castle that lay on the very bosom of the sea with seabirds mewing about its attics, the casements opening onto the green and purple, evanescent departures of the ocean, cut off by the tide from land for half a day . . . that castle, at home neither on the land nor on the water, a mysterious, amphibious place, contravening the materiality of both earth and waves, with the melancholy of a mermaiden who perches on her rocks and waits, endlessly, for a lover who had drowned far away, long ago. That lovely, sad, sea-siren of a place. ~ Angela Carter,
1223:Madison looked from Jason, who jerked his head toward the gate, signaling her to get moving, to Longbranch, whose cold, direct gaze said Jason would pay in blood for any kind of double-cross.
One thing was clear: Jason Haley had been lying to her since the moment he set foot on her porch. Was he really plotting with the Roses? Or had he decided to sacrifice himself to get her into the sanctuary?
Madison threw her arms around Jason's neck as if she couldn't face being parted from him and whispered fiercely in his ear, "You lying lunatic bastard. They're going to kill you."
"I love you too," he murmured. "Go find Seph. Help him. ~ Cinda Williams Chima,
1224:Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!
Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge
Constant my heart through the abyss unknown,
Its glory my sole guide while space surge
About me. Seventy light-years! As I near
That gate of light that men call death, its cold
Pale gleam begins to pulse, a throbbing sphere,
Systole and diastole of eager gold,
New life immortal, warmth of passion bleed
Till night's black velvet burn to crimson. Hark!
It is thy voice, Thy word, the secret seed
Of rapture that admonishes the dark.
Swift! By necessity most righteous drawn,
Hermes, authentic augur of the dawn!
~ Aleister Crowley, Logos
,
1225:WEATHERS
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,'
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I. ~ Thomas Hardy,
1226:In the tall tales told by firelight there was always a brief and laconic conversation. Because the bad guy had to be told why he had to die, as if reference to injured parties like Emily Lair and Peter and Lydia McCann and the gate guard’s grandchildren could conjure up spirits and console them, and also because the bad guy had to be given the chance to either repent or snarl further defiance, either of which could turn a story classic, depending on the hero’s next reply. But tales were tales, and not the real world. Reacher said nothing, and shot the fat man in the head, twice, a double tap, pop pop, and then he watched the kitchen door. Which stayed shut. ~ Lee Child,
1227:Mam drove the same way she walked, freestyle, also known as bumpily. She didn’t really go in for right- and left-hand lanes, which was fine this side of Faha where the road is cart-wide and Mohawked with a raised rib of grass and when two cars meet there is no hope of passing, someone has to throw back a left arm and reverse to the nearest gap or gate, which Faha folks do brilliantly, flooring the accelerator and racing in soft zigzag to where they have just been, defeating time and space both and making a nonsense of past and present, here and there. As any student of Irish history ancient and recent will know, we are a nation of magnificent reversers. ~ Niall Williams,
1228:Sonnet Lxvi
TO all those happy blessings which ye haue,
with plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown:
this one disparagement they to you gaue,
that ye your loue lent to so meane a one.
Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon,
could not on earth haue found one fit for mate,
ne but in heauen matchable to none,
why did ye stoup vnto so lowly state.
But ye thereby much greater glory gate,
then had ye sorted with a princes pere:
for now your light doth more it selfe dilate,
and in my darknesse greater doth appeare.
Yet since your light hath once enlumind me,
with my reflex yours shall encreased be.
~ Edmund Spenser,
1229:Beneath the rubbernecking Chums of Chance wheeled streets and alleyways in a Cartesian grid, sketched in sepia, mile on mile. "The Great Bovine City of the World," breathed Lindsey in wonder. Indeed, the backs of cattle far outnumbered the tops of human hats. From this height it was as if the Chums, who, out on adventures past, had often witnessed the vast herds of cattle adrift in everchanging cloudlike patterns across the Western plains, here saw that unshaped freedom being rationalized into movement only in straight lines and at right angles and a progressive reduction of choices, until the final turn through the final gate that led to the killingfloor. ~ Thomas Pynchon,
1230:Belated
BLITHE summer blossom, born too late,
Wilt make my desert garden fair?
Lo Winter's hand is on the gate,
His breath is in the curdling air.
Still yesterweek, but yesterweek,
Thou hadst, unfolding in warm light,
Spread ripening to the crimson streak
And seed to make the next year bright.
But now there fall the latter rains,
The chills that brown the ferns are come;
Southward, above the shivering plains,
The eddying swallows hasten home.
Oh flower too frail, too late of birth,
There is no sun for such as thou:
Droop down upon the barren earth;
What boots it to have blossomed now?
~ Augusta Davies Webster,
1231:Logos
Out of the night forth flamed a star -mine own!
Now seventy light-years nearer as I urge
Constant my heart through the abyss unknown,
Its glory my sole guide while space surge
About me. Seventy light-yaers! As I near
That gate of light that men call death, its cold
Pale gleam begins to pulse, a throbbing sphere,
Systole and diastole of eager gold,
New life immortal, wartmth of passion bleed
Till night's black velvet burn to crimson. Hark!
It is thy voice, Thy word, the secret seed
Of rapture that admonishes the dark.
Swift! By necessity most righteous drawn,
Hermes, authentic augur of the dawn!
~ Aleister Crowley,
1232:My favourite quotes, Part Three
-- from Michael Connelly's "Harry Bosch" series

The Closers
Bosch studied the mud-walled structure behind the musician and wondered if Don Francisco Avila had any idea what he was helping to set in motion when he staked his claim to the spot in 1818. A city would grow tall and wide from this place. A city as great as any other. And just as mean. A destination city, a city of invention and reinvention.

A place where the dream seemed as easy to reach as the sign they put up on the hill, but a place where the reality was always something different. The road to that sign on the hill had a locked gate across it. ~ Michael Connelly,
1233:The louder she screamed, the harder he whipped; and where the blood ran fastest, there he whipped longest. He would whip her to make her scream, and whip her to make her hush; and not until overcome by fatigue, would he cease to swing the blood-clotted cowskin. I remember the first time I ever witnessed this horrible exhibition. I was quite a child, but I well remember it. I never shall forget it whilst I remember anything. It was the first of a long series of outrages, of which I was doomed to be a witness and a participant. It struck me with awful force. It was the blood-stained gate, the entrance to the hell of slavery, through which I was about to pass. ~ Frederick Douglass,
1234:Forty years ago, Richard Branson, who ultimately founded Virgin Air, found himself in a similar situation in an airport in the Caribbean. They had just canceled his flight, the only flight that day. Instead of freaking out about how essential the flight was, how badly his day was ruined, how his entire career was now in jeopardy, the young Branson walked across the airport to the charter desk and inquired about the cost of chartering a flight out of Puerto Rico. Then he borrowed a portable blackboard and wrote, “Seats to Virgin Islands, $39.” He went back to his gate, sold enough seats to his fellow passengers to completely cover his costs, and made it home on time. ~ Seth Godin,
1235:I divined and chose a distant place to dwell
T'ien-t'ai; what more is there to say?

Monkeys cry where valley mists are cold,
My grass gate blends with the color of the crags,
I pick leaves to thatch a hut among the pines,
Scoop out a pond and lead a runnel from the spring.

By now I am used to doing without the world,
Picking ferns, I pass the years that are left.
The trail to Cold Mountain is faint
the banks of Cold Stream are a jungle

birds constantly chatter away
I hear no sound of people
gusts of wind lash my face

flurries of snow bury my body
day after day, no sun
year after year no spring. ~ Hanshan,
1236:It opens, the gate to the garden
with the docility of a page
that frequent devotion questions
and inside, my gaze
has no need to fix on objects
that already exist, exact, in memory.
I know the customs and souls
and that dialect of allusions
that every human gathering goes weaving.
I've no need to speak
nor claim false privilege;
they know me well who surround me here,
know well my afflictions and weakness.
This is to reach the highest thing,
that Heaven perhaps will grant us:
not admiration or victory
but simply to be accepted
as part of an undeniable Reality,
like stones and trees.

~ Jorge Luis Borges, Simplicity
,
1237:Xxxvii
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my swimming brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,
His guardian sea-god to commemorate,
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort
And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
1238:In the sleep to me is given
Our last eden of stars up high
City of clean water towers,
Golden Bakchisarai

There behind a colored fencing
By the pensive water stalled
Village of the Tsar's gardens
With rejoicing we recalled.

And the eagles of Catherine
Suddenly recognized - it's that!
He had flown to valley bottom
From the ornate bronze-clad gate.

That the song of parting heartache
In the memory longer lives,
The dark-bodied mother autumn
Brought to me the redding leaves

And she sprinkled on her soles
Where we parted in the sun
And from where for land of shadows
You had left, my soothing one. ~ Anna Akhmatova,
1239:It was Fidelma's favourite walk, a winding path by the river in the Castle grounds. The Castle with its turrets and ivied walls was a five-star hotel which attracted celebrities and regulars who came for the fishing and shooting. She could do that walk in her sleep, over the bridge, down three steps, by a sign that read 'Please Close the Gate' and all of a sudden the sound of the river, squeezing its way under the bridge and then bursting out as it opened into a wide sweep, making its way upstream, girdling the small islands that it passed. The sound was like water bursting in childbirth, or so a woman who had had many children once told her, and she remembered it. ~ Edna O Brien,
1240:One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation. “Just put them on, Archie, there’s a good chap. You can’t walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate’s already getting suspicious —” “I bought this in a Muggle shop,” said the old wizard stubbornly. “Muggles wear them.” “Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these,” said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.
“I’m not putting them on,” said old Archie in indignation. “I like a healthy breeze ’round my privates, thanks. ~ J K Rowling,
1241:Your prowess with a lightsaber is childish vanity. Your physical Force powers are no more than a conjurer's trick, sleight of hand to dazzle the ordinary beings you should be serving. You profane these powers by using them as weapons in war. And you fail to grasp the single, simple, uncompromising duty of the true Jedi. The Jedi is the rock-lion at the gate who says, "I will defend these beings with my life, and that is the sum of me." Etain Tur-Mukan died to save one life, a man she did not even know, but felt compelled to save, and that is what made her stronger in the Force and a truer Jedi than any of you acrobats, tricksters, and specious, empty philosophers. ~ Karen Traviss,
1242:Regret
There is a haunting phantom called Regret,
A shadowy creature robed somewhat like woe,
But fairer in the face, whom all men know
By her said mien, and eyes forever wet.
No heart would seek her; but once having met
All take her by the hand, and to and fro
They wander through those paths of long agoThose hallowed ways 'twere wiser to forget.
One day she led me to that lost land's gate
And bade me enter; but I answered 'No!
I will pass on with my bold comrade Fate;
I have no tears to waste on thee- no timeMy strength I hoard for heights I hope to climb,
No friend art thou, for souls that would be great.'
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
1243:When the boat had gone a few oar-strokes away from land they were still standing on the beach, gazing after the boy whom an unknown woman had left naked in their arms. They were holding hands, and other people gave way before them, and I could see no one except them. Or were they perhaps so extraordinary that other people melted away and vanished into thin air around them?
When I had clambered up with my bag onto the deck of the mail-boat North Star, I saw them walking back together on their way home: on the way to our turnstile-gate; home to Brekkukot, our house which was to be razed to the ground tomorrow. They were walking hand in hand, like children. ~ Halld r Kiljan Laxness,
1244:Coucy
The rooks aclamor when one enters here
Startle the empty towers far overhead;
Through gaping walls the summer fields appear,
Green, tan, or, poppy-mingled, tinged with red.
The courts where revel rang deep grass and moss
Cover, and tangled vines have overgrown
The gate where banners blazoned with a cross
Rolled forth to toss round Tyre and Ascalon.
Decay consumes it. The old causes fade.
And fretting for the contest many a heart
Waits their Tyrtaeus to chant on the new.
Oh, pass him by who, in this haunted shade
Musing enthralled, has only this much art,
To love the things the birds and flowers love too.
~ Alan Seeger,
1245:Song In A Minor Key
There's a place I know where the birds swing low,
And wayward vines go roaming,
Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god
Is pale, in scented gloaming.
And at sunset there comes a lady fair
Whose eyes are deep with yearning.
By an old, old gate does the lady wait
Her own true love's returning.
But the days go by, and the lilacs die,
And trembling birds seek cover;
Yet the lady stands, with her long white hands
Held out to greet her lover.
And it's there she'll stay till the shadowy day
A monument they grave her.
She will always wait by the same old gate, -The gate her true love gave her.
~ Dorothy Parker,
1246:New York City is the most fatally fascinating thing in America. She sits like a great witch at the gate of the country, showing her alluring white face and hiding her crooked hands and feet under the folds of her wide garments--constantly enticing thousands from far within, and tempting those who come from across the seas to go no farther. And all these become the victims of her caprice. Some she at once crushes beneath her cruel feet; others she condemns to a fate like that of galley slaves; a few she favors and fondles, riding them high on the bubbles of fortune; then with a sudden breath she blows the bubbles out and laughs mockingly as she watches them fall. ~ James Weldon Johnson,
1247:Sonnet Xxxvii
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my swimming brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,
His guardian sea-god to commemorate,
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort
And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
1248:When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings. ~ William Shakespeare,
1249:The Kindly Neighbor
I have a kindly neighbor, one who stands
Beside my gate and chats with me awhile,
Gives me the glory of his radiant smile
And comes at times to help with willing hands.
No station high or rank this man commands,
He, too, must trudge, as I, the long day's mile;
And yet, devoid of pomp or gaudy style,
He has a worth exceeding stocks or lands.
To him I go when sorrow's at my door,
On him I lean when burdens come my way,
Together oft we talk our trials o'er
And there is warmth in each good-night we say.
A kindly neighbor! Wars and strife shall end
When man has made the man next door his friend.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,
1250:Jeg har alltid sagt at du ikke legger tilstrekkelig vekt på bifigurene. En roman skal ligne en gate full av ukjente, hvor to-tre personer man kjenner til bunns, går forbi. Ikke flere. Se på andre forfattere, som Proust - de visste å gjore bruk av bifigurene. De bruker dem for å ydmyke hovedpersonene og gjore dem mindre. Det finnes ikke noe mer helsebringende i en roman enn å gi heltene en slik leksjon i ydmykhet. Tenk på de små bondekonene i Krig og fred, de som krysser veien foran vognen til fyrst Andrej og ler. De er de forste som ser ham, han snakker til dem, rett inn i orene deres, og dermed lofter leserens blikk seg, nå blir det bare ett eneste ansikt, en eneste sjel. ~ Ir ne N mirovsky,
1251:I CANNOT tell you now;
When the wind's drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind's a whisper at last--
Maybe I'll tell you then--
some other time.

When the rose's flash to the sunset
Reels to the rack and the twist,
And the rose is a red bygone,
When the face I love is going
And the gate to the end shall clang,
And it's no use to beckon or say, "So long"--
Maybe I'll tell you then--
some other time.

I never knew any more beautiful than you:
I have hunted you under my thoughts,
I have broken down under the wind
And into the roses looking for you.
I shall never find any
greater than you. ~ Carl Sandburg,
1252:Septimus had no need to untie Spit Fyre as the dragon had already chewed his way through the rope. They followed Aunt Zelda and Jenna out the side door at the foot of the turret and down to the Palace Gate. Aunt Zelda kept up a brisk pace. Showing a surprising knowledge of the Castle’s narrow alleyways and sideslips, she hurtled along. Oncoming pedestrians were taken aback at the sight of the large patchwork tent approaching them at full speed. They flattened themselves against the walls, and, as the tent passed by with the Princess, the ExtraOrdinary Apprentice and a feral-looking boy with bandaged hands—not to mention a dragon—in its wake, people rubbed their eyes in disbelief. ~ Angie Sage,
1253:But Agon did not force this prison upon you. He is the jailer of many, but you are the one who possesses the keys to your own cell. He may hunt you, but he did not lock you away here, nor force upon you the choices you have made these last few years. Your prison is in your mind, where you limit yourself, where you take on the voice of the Beast and speak to yourself the way he would if he could only get to you. But he does not need to if you will do the work for him. Fear is what locked you away, Ifferon, and fear is a tool of Agon. When you fear you open the gate that lets him into your mind. His greatest weapon is fear, for it drives strong men to madness. So why then be afraid? ~ Dean F Wilson,
1254:To live life to the fullest, you must stand guard at the gate of your garden and let only the very best information enter. You truly cannot afford the luxury of a negative thought—not even one. The most joyful, dynamic and contented people of this world are no different from you or me in terms of their makeup. We are all flesh and bones. We all come from the same universal source. However, the ones who do more than just exist, the ones who fan the flames of their human potential and truly savor the magical dance of life do different things than those whose lives are ordinary. Foremost amongst the things that they do is adopt a positive paradigm about their world and all that is in it. ~ Anonymous,
1255:PSALM 127 [†] Unless the LORD builds the house,         those who build it labor in vain.     Unless the LORD  x watches over the city,         the watchman stays awake in vain. 2[†]     It is in vain that you rise up early         and go late to rest,     eating the bread of anxious  y toil;         for he gives to his  z beloved  a sleep.     3[†] Behold,  b children are a heritage from the LORD,          c the fruit of the womb a reward. 4[†]     Like arrows in the hand of  d a warrior         are the children [1] of one’s youth. 5    Blessed is the man         who fills his quiver with them!     He shall not be put to shame         when he speaks with his enemies  e in the gate. [2] ~ Anonymous,
1256:Hope
Hope is with you when you believe
The earth is not a dream but living flesh,
that sight, touch, and hearing do not lie,
That all thing you have ever seen here
Are like a garden looked at from a gate.
You cannot enter. But you're sure it's there.
Could we but look more clearly and wisely
We might discover somewhere in the garden
A strange new flower and an unnamed star.
Some people say that we should not trust our eyes,
That there is nothing, just a seeming,
There are the ones who have no hope.
They think the moment we turn away,
The world, behind our backs, ceases to exist,
As if snatched up by the hand of thieves.
~ Czeslaw Milosz,
1257:She loved airports. She loved the smell, she loved the noise, and she loved the whole atmosphere as people walked around happily tugging their luggage, looking forward to going on their holidays or heading back home. She loved to see people arriving and being greeted with a big cheer by their families and she loved to watch them all giving each other emotional hugs. It was a perfect place for people-spotting. The airport always gave her a feeling of anticipation in the pit of her stomach as though she were about to do something special and amazing. Queuing at the boarding gate, she felt like she was waiting to go on a roller coaster ride at a theme park, like an excited little child. ~ Cecelia Ahern,
1258:The name of the song is called "HADDOCKS' EYES."' 'Oh, that's the name of the song, is it?' Alice said, trying to feel interested. 'No, you don't understand,' the Knight said, looking a little vexed. 'That's what the name is CALLED. The name really IS "THE AGED AGED MAN."' 'Then I ought to have said "That's what the SONG is called"?' Alice corrected herself. 'No, you oughtn't: that's quite another thing! The SONG is called "WAYS AND MEANS": but that's only what it's CALLED, you know!' 'Well, what IS the song, then?' said Alice, who was by this time completely bewildered. 'I was coming to that,' the Knight said. 'The song really IS "A-SITTING ON A GATE": and the tune's my own invention. ~ Lewis Carroll,
1259:Conny and I stood in line, along with other people, outside Checkpoint Charlie, the gate for foreigners into East Berlin. Many of those in line were Dutch, and I saw they were being passed without difficulty. Everything seemed routine: Hand your passport to a guard, walk down the line, and receive your passport back with a stamp that allowed you to spend the one day in East Berlin. I hoped it would be as easy for us when it was our turn to be checked. Finally we were in front of the window. The guard looked at our passports, looked in a book and then turned and said something to another man behind him. “Is there a problem?” I asked the man. He turned and gave me a stern look. “Come with ~ Corrie ten Boom,
1260:There Is A Green Hill
THERE is a green hill far away,
Without a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified,
Who died to save us all.
We may not know, we cannot tell
What pains he had to bear,
But we believe it was for us
He hung and suffer’d there.
He died that we might be forgiven,
He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to heaven,
Sav’d by his precious blood.
There was no other good enough
To pay the price of sin;
He only could unlock the gate
Of heaven, and let us in.
O dearly, dearly has he lov’d,
And we must love him too,
And trust in his redeeming blood,
And try his works to do.
~ Cecil Frances Alexander,
1261:anthologies like Accessing the Future (gathering together voices of disabled people to create SF tales of disability), The Sum of Us (an anthology complicating ideas of care and caregiving), Alison Sinclair’s Darkborn series (presenting the social changes that would occur in a world where half the population is blind), Tanya Huff’s novel Gate of Darkness, Circle of Light (which features a protagonist with an intellectual disability who resists containment or control), Ada Hoffmann’s short story “You Have To Follow the Rules” (which transports the reader into a world where autism is the norm and asks us to reconsider how we codify rules of social interaction and privilege neurotypicality), ~ Lynne M Thomas,
1262:Sonnet Xxxvii: Pardon, Oh, Pardon
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my swimming brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,
His guardian sea-god to commemorate,
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort
And vibrant tail, within the temple gate.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
1263:Well, it’s not so much a trembling,’ was the answer—‘though they do quiver—as a complete derangement of the nervous system. They can’t sign their names to the book; sometimes can’t even hold the pen; look about ’em without appearing to know why, or where they are; and sometimes get up and sit down again, twenty times in a minute. This is when they’re in the office, where they are taken with the hood on, as they were brought in. When they get outside the gate, they stop, and look first one way and then the other; not knowing which to take. Sometimes they stagger as if they were drunk, and sometimes are forced to lean against the fence, they’re so bad:—but they clear off in course of time. ~ Charles Dickens,
1264:I clicked the gate shut and slipped down the alley. Through one fence after another, I caught glimpses of people in their dining rooms and living rooms, eating and watching TV dramas. Food smells drifted into the alley through kitchen windows and exhaust fans. One teenaged boy was practicing a fast passage on his electric guitar, with the volume turned down. In a second floor window, a tiny girl was studying at her desk, an earnest expression on her face. A married couple in a heated argument sent their voices out to the alley. A baby was screaming. A telephone rang. Reality spilled out into the alley like water from an overfilled bowl - as sound, as smell, as image, as plea, as response. ~ Haruki Murakami,
1265:The Great Hunt
I cannot tell you now;
When the wind’s drive and whirl
Blow me along no longer,
And the wind’s a whisper at last—
Maybe I’ll tell you then—
some other time.
When the rose’s flash to the sunset
Reels to the rack and the twist,
And the rose is a red bygone,
When the face I love is going
And the gate to the end shall clang,
And it’s no use to beckon or say, “So long”—
Maybe I’ll tell you then—
some other time.
I never knew any more beautiful than you:
I have hunted you under my thoughts,
I have broken down under the wind
And into the roses looking for you.
I shall never find any
greater than you.
~ Carl Sandburg,
1266:Down the blue mountain in the evening,
Moonlight was my homeward escort.
Looking back, I saw my path
Lie in levels of deep shadow....
I was passing the farm-house of a friend,
When his children called from a gate of thorn
And led me twining through jade bamboos
Where green vines caught and held my clothes.
And I was glad of a chance to rest
And glad of a chance to drink with my friend....
We sang to the tune of the wind in the pines;
And we finished our songs as the stars went down,
When, I being drunk and my friend more than happy,
Between us we forgot the world.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Down Zhongnan Mountain
,
1267:Sonnet 29

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings. ~ William Shakespeare,
1268:Bushland
Not sweeter to the storm-tossed mariner
Is glimpse of home, where wife and children wait
To welcome him with kisses at the gate,
Than to the town-worn man the breezy stir
Of mountain winds on rugged pathless heights:
His long-pent soul drinks in the deep delights
That Nature hath in store. The sun-kissed bay
Gleams thro' the grand old gnarled gum-tree boughs
Like burnished brass; the strong-winged bird of prey
Sweeps by, upon his lonely vengeful way -While over all, like breath of holy vows,
The sweet airs blow, and the high-vaulted sky
Looks down in pity this fair Summer day
On all poor earth-born creatures doomed to die.
~ Arthur Patchett Martin,
1269:Duet At Shanxi Normal University Linfen, China
As I walked out late along Paragon Road
among students going hither and thither,
I heard a trained voice – male, operatic –
singing quietly to itself, ‘Maria, Maria’,
then Mandarin lyrics. I couldn’t understand
so I asked, ‘You sing “Maria”?’
He shook his head. I said, ‘You know,
“Maria” from West Side Story ...’ He
shook his head some more – so I sang
and he joined me and we sang
down Paragon Road to the gate,
my ‘Maria’, his Chinese song.
At the gate, between smiling sentries,
I tapped him on the shoulder and said,
‘Same melody has got me thinking,
it’s the same bloody song, mate!’
~ Andrew Burke,
1270:The only way through is that kissing gate."
"Why is it called that?"
"I don't know." Lottie considered the gate thoughtfully. "I suppose because a kiss would be the unavoidable consequence of two people trying to pass through it at the same time."
"An interesting theory." Sydney paused inside the narrow gate. Leaning against one side of it, he sent her a challenging smile, knowing full well that she could not go through without brushing against him.
Lottie raised her brows. "By some chance are you expecting me to test it?"
Lord Sydney lifted one shoulder in a relaxed shrug, watching her with a vagabond charm that was nearly irresistible. "I won't stop you, if you feel so inclined. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
1271:When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
  I all alone beweep my outcast state,
  And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
  And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
  Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
  Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
  Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
  With what I most enjoy contented least;
  Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
  Haply I think on thee,— and then my state,
  Like to the lark at break of day arising
  From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
    For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
    That then I scorn to change my state with kings. ~ William Shakespeare,
1272:Once I reached the gate, a wave of relief swept over me. It was obvious the whole thing was being stage-managed. The Chinese government was in control. I would soon be on my way. We walked out onto the runway. It was cloudy. Cold. I could see a big airplane in front of me with silver wings. I climbed the steps with the First Secretary. When I reached the door, two women appeared in front of me. Flight attendants. All smiles. “Welcome back!” I peered into the plane. There was no one on board. It was a charter. Just for us. I turned back to say goodbye, and the consul and his staff were all waving at me. I tried to say, “Thank you,” but I couldn’t get the words out because I was crying like a baby. ~ Masaji Ishikawa,
1273:Wow,” I breathe as we walk along the road past the parked cars, and come to an arched gate set in a low wall, a drive slanting steeply downhill through the archway. A few Vespa scooters are leaning against the wall, by the gateposts, and at the bottom of the drive is a small house, all its windows blazing with light, music pouring out into the dark velvety night air. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. A modern fairy tale, where Hansel and Gretel don’t get put into a witch’s oven, but dance all night under the stars.
And maybe there’ll be a prince to make the fairy take complete, I can’t help thinking, before I firmly forbid myself from speculating about whether Luca will be here. ~ Lauren Henderson,
1274:/Farsi From the un-manifest I came, And pitched my tent, in the Forest of Material existence. I passed through mineral and vegetable kingdoms, Then my mental equipment carried me into the animal kingdom; Having reached there I crossed beyond it; Then in the crystal clear shell of human heart I nursed the drop of self in a Pearl, And in association with good men Wandered round the Prayer House, And having experienced that, crossed beyond it; Then I took the road that leads to Him, And became a slave at His gate; Then the duality disappeared And I became absorbed in Him. [bk1sm.gif] -- from Munajat: The Intimate Invocations, by Sheikh Ansari / Translated by A. G. Farhadi

~ Khwaja Abdullah Ansari, I Came
,
1275:Sonnet Iiii
NEw yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate,
Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight:
and bidding th'old Adieu, his passed date
bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright.
And calling forth out of sad Winters night,
fresh loue, that long hath slept in cheerlesse bower:
wils him awake, and soone about him dight
his wanton wings and darts of deadly power.
For lusty spring now in his timely howre,
is ready to come forth him to receiue:
and warnes the Earth with diuers colord flowre,
to decke hir selfe, and her faire mantle weaue.
Then you faire flowre, in who[m] fresh youth doth raine,
prepare your selfe new loue to entertaine.
~ Edmund Spenser,
1276:What was it, she wondered, this need to brandish his shiny new metropolitan life at her? As soon as she'd met him at the arrivals gate on his return from Thailand, lithe and brown and shaven-headed, she knew that there was no chance of a relationship between them. Too much had happened to him, too little had happened to her. Even so this would be the third girlfriend, lover, whatever, that she had met in the last nine months, Dexter presenting them up to her like a dog with a fat pigeon in his mouth. Was it some kind of some sick revenge for something? Because she got a better degree than him? Didn't he know what this was doing to her, sat at table nine with their groins jammed in each other's faces? ~ David Nicholls,
1277:My name is Alem Kelo. I live with the Fitzgeralds, my foster family, at 202 Meanly Road, Manor Park, London. I have also lived in Ethiopia and Eritrea. I have spent a few nights in a hotel in Datchet, one night in a children’s home in Reading, and for a short while I stayed in a hotel in Forest Gate, which was a bit rough. I have stayed in all these places in the last year. To be really honest I would prefer to live in Africa with my mother and my father but they have both been killed and there is war in my country. Things are very hard for me. Look at me, look at all the things that I am capable of, and think of all the things you could call me – a student, a lover of literature, a budding architect, ~ Benjamin Zephaniah,
1278:Without warning, a 9.5 Richter scale earthquake began just off the coast of California, near San Francisco. For the U.S. Geologic Survey, there had been no indications of a pending super quake. Seismic monitors were showing no activity for California for the previous six months, which had the scientists concerned, but they weren’t terribly worried about it. The shockwaves from the quake extended into San Francisco itself, but the scientists were shocked when it didn’t extend to Oakland, to any of the towns and cities south of the San Francisco International Airport, or anything from the Golden Gate Bridge northward. Unfortunately, the suddenness of the quake made it too late to warn the citizens of that city. ~ Cliff Ball,
1279:you reckon it could have been Pete?” I glanced off to the east and saw Pete basking in the sun beside the garden gate. He was purring and washing himself, which means that he was spitting in his paw and wiping the spit over his face. That’s the way a cat takes a bath. I take tremendous pride in my personal appearance. I cultivate a rich, manly smell. I bathe regularly, in the sewer. Now, let’s look at Pete. He takes spit-baths. Has anyone ever seen him in the sewer? No sir. But has Sally May ever referred to him as a stinking cat? No sir. So there you are, and that’s one of two dozen reasons why I hate cats and Pete in particular. I had to get that off my chest. Now, where was I? “Well, Drover, we’ve broken ~ John R Erickson,
1280:Sonnet Lxxxi
Fayre is my loue, when her fayre golden heares,
with the loose wynd ye wauing chance to marke:
fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appeares,
or in her eyes the fyre of loue does sparke.
Fayre when her brest lyke a rich laden barke,
with pretious merchandize she forth doth lay:
fayre whe[n] that cloud of pryde, which oft doth dark
her goodly light with smiles she driues away.
But fayrest she, when so she doth display,
the gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight:
throgh which her words so wise do make their way
to beare the message of her gentle spright,
The rest be works of natures wonderment,
but this the worke of harts astonishment.
~ Edmund Spenser,
1281:Many women are singing together of this:
one is in a shoe factory cursing the machine,
one is at the aquarium tending a seal,
one is dull at the wheel of her Ford,
one is at the toll gate collecting,
one is tying the cord of a calf in Arizona,
one is straddling a cello in Russia,
one is shifting pots on the stove in Egypt,
one is painting her bedroom walls moon color,
one is dying but remembering a breakfast,
one is stretching on her mat in Thailand,
one is wiping the ass of her child,
one is staring out the window of a train
in the middle of Wyoming and one is
anywhere and some are everywhere and all
seem to be singing, although some can not
sing a note. ~ Anne Sexton,
1282:Al-Azhar mosque in El Hussein Square. One of Cairo’s oldest houses of worship, it once doubled as a university, renowned in Europe and throughout the Arab world for its scholarship. Standing on the footpath, Alex took a moment to admire the structure, named after Fatima al-Zahra, daughter of the Prophet Muhammad. Five minarets stretched toward the sky, each with balconies and intricately carved columns. There were six entrances. The main one now before him was built in the eighteenth century and known as Bab El Muzayini, the barber’s gate. Students had once been shaved there. The mosque was a potpourri of architectural styles, built piecemeal over its thousand-year history. But the overall effect was quite beautiful. ~ Dan Eaton,
1283:Cassandra continued her obstacle course along the wall, hoping to find a gate or a door, anything permitting entry. The sun was rising in the sky and the birds had relaxed their singing. The air was heavy with the sweet, swooning perfume of a climbing rose. Although it was autumn, Cassandra was becoming hot. To think she had once imagined England a cold country to which the sun was a stranger. She stopped to wipe sweat from her brow and bumped her head on something low-hanging.
The gnarled bough of a tree reached armlike over the wall. An apple tree, Cassandra realized, when she saw that the branch bore fruit- shiny, golden apples. They were so ripe, so deliciously fragrant, that she couldn't resist picking one. ~ Kate Morton,
1284:Sonnet Xxvii: Heart's Compass
Sometimes thou seem'st not as thyself alone,
But as the meaning of all things that are;
A breathless wonder, shadowing forth afar
Some heavenly solstice hushed and halcyon;
Whose unstirred lips are music's visible tone;
Whose eyes the sun-gate of the soul unbar,
Being of its furthest fires oracular;—
The evident heart of all life sown and mown.
Even such Love is; and is not thy name Love?
Yea, by thy hand the Love-god rends apart
All gathering clouds of Night's ambiguous art;
Flings them far down, and sets thine eyes above;
And simply, as some gage of flower or glove,
Stakes with a smile the world against thy heart.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
1285:The Poets
Half god, half brute, within the self-same shell,
Changers with every hour from dawn till even,
Who dream with angels in the gate of heaven,
And skirt with curious eyes the brinks of hell,
Children of Pan, whom some, the few, love well,
But most draw back, and know not what to say,
Poor shining angels, whom the hoofs betray,
Whose pinions frighten with their goatish smell.
Half brutish, half divine, but all of earth,
Half-way 'twixt hell and heaven, near to man,
The whole world's tangle gathered in one span,
Full of this human torture and this mirth:
Life with its hope and error, toil and bliss,
Earth-born, earth-reared, ye know it as it is.
~ Archibald Lampman,
1286:He had not far to go; he knew indeed how many steps it was from the gate of his lodging house: exactly seven hundred and thirty. He had counted them once when he had been lost in dreams. At the time he had put no faith in those dreams and was only tantalising himself by their hideous but daring recklessness. Now, a month later, he had begun to look upon them differently, and, in spite of the monologues in which he jeered at his own impotence and indecision, he had involuntarily come to regard this "hideous" dream as an exploit to be attempted, although he still did not realise this himself. He was positively going now for a "rehearsal" of his project, and at every step his excitement grew more and more violent. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky,
1287:In fact, there was little I now recalled about Little House, save the main character, Laura, and her family, and the occasional cameo from a bear or panther in their woods. But as I returned to my gate, I realized there was something I could remember. At the very end of the book, Laura tells herself, This is now, and feels happy because the now could not be forgotten as it was happening. “Isn’t that wonderful?” my mother said to me after she finished reading it. Her arm was around me, and she squeezed me tight. “This is now, Libby Lou. And it’s all ours.” It was a night like any other, except the flood of bad memories from the following years had not washed it away. And though it was no longer now, it was still ours. ~ Camille Pag n,
1288:Sonnet Xlv: Secret Parting
Because our talk was of the cloud-control
And moon-track of the journeying face of Fate,
Her tremulous kisses faltered at love's gate
And her eyes dreamed against a distant goal:
But soon, remembering her how brief the whole
Of joy, which its own hours annihilate,
Her set gaze gathered, thirstier than of late,
And as she kissed, her mouth became her soul.
Thence in what ways we wandered, and how strove
To build with fire-tried vows the piteous home
Which memory haunts and whither sleep may roam,—
They only know for whom the roof of Love
Is the still-seated secret of the grove,
Nor spire may rise nor bell be heard therefrom.
~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti,
1289:In every believer's heart there is a constant struggle between the old nature and the new. The old nature is very active, and loses no opportunity of plying all the weapons of its deadly armoury against newborn grace; while on the other hand, the new nature is ever on the watch to resist and destroy its enemy. Grace within us will employ prayer, and faith, and hope, and love, to cast out the evil; it takes unto it the "whole armour of God," and wrestles earnestly. These two opposing natures will never cease to struggle so long as we are in this world. The battle of "Christian" with "Apollyon" lasted three hours, but the battle of Christian with himself lasted all the way from the Wicket Gate to the river Jordan. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
1290:While Lounging In A Chair
While lounging in a chair, I looked up at the ceiling
Where, teasing my imagination,
A circle hangs above the quiet lamp,
And spins just like a ghostly shadow.
Within the flicker there's a trace of autumn sunset:
As if, above the rooftop and the garden,
Unable to fly off, afraid to land,
Dark flocks of blackbirds circle. . .
No, it's not wings I hear, but hooves at the front gate!
I hear the trembling hands . . .
How chill the pallor of a lovely face!
How bitter parting's whisper! . .
Lost and in silence, I survey the distant road
Beyond the dimming garden,While the impatient flock of blackbirds,
Unsheltered, circles still.
~ Afanasy Afanasyevich Fet,
1291:I am Lews Therin Telamon, the Dragon. I ruled these lands, unified, during the Age of Legends. I was leader of all the armies of the Light, I wore the Ring of Tamyrlin. I stood first among the Servants, highest of the Aes Sedai, and I could summon the Nine Rods of Dominion.” Rand stepped forward. “I held the loyalty and fealty of all seventeen Generals of Dawn’s Gate. Fortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag, my authority supersedes your own!” “Artur Hawkwing—” “My authority supersedes that of Hawkwing! If you claim rule by the name of he who conquered, then you must bow before my prior claim. I conquered before Hawkwing, though I needed no sword to do so. You are here on my land, Empress, at my sufferance!” Thunder broke in the distance. ~ Anonymous,
1292:Of course, this anti sprawl letter-writers all lived in sprawling suburbs in the former Everglades. Now that they were settled in their gated communities, they wanted to slam the gate behind them. It is easy to fulminate about the costs of south Florida’s growth- its gridlock, environmental degradation, inadequate municipal services, and cookie-cutter landscape- but there is no denying the allure of its 75-degree January afternoons. Even in south Florida fails to manage its growth or preserve its natural beauty, it will still be more attractive than Cleveland or Buffalo in the winter. And even if it fails to diversity its economy or protect its aquifers, it will still look like paradise to residents of Havana or Caracas. ~ Michael Grunwald,
1293:The only way through is that kissing gate.”
“Why is it called that?”
“I don’t know.” Lottie considered the gate thoughtfully. “I suppose because a kiss would be the unavoidable consequence of two people trying to pass through it at the same time.”
“An interesting theory.” Sydney paused inside the narrow gate. Leaning against one side of it, he sent her a challenging smile, knowing full well that she could not go through without brushing against him.
Lottie raised her brows. “By some chance are you expecting me to test it?”
Lord Sydney lifted one shoulder in a relaxed shrug, watching her with a vagabond charm that was nearly irresistible. “I won’t stop you, if you feel so inclined.”

-Lottie & Nick ~ Lisa Kleypas,
1294:Sonnet 37 - Pardon, Oh, Pardon, That My Soul Should
Make
XXXVII
Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make,
Of all that strong divineness which I know
For thine and thee, an image only so
Formed of the sand, and fit to shift and break.
It is that distant years which did not take
Thy sovranty, recoiling with a blow,
Have forced my swimming brain to undergo
Their doubt and dread, and blindly to forsake
Thy purity of likeness and distort
Thy worthiest love to a worthless counterfeit:
As if a shipwrecked Pagan, safe in port,
His guardian sea-god to commemorate,
Should set a sculptured porpoise, gills a-snort
And vibrant tail, within the temple-gate.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
1295:WHEN I play on my fiddle in Dooney.
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.
I passed my brother and cousin:
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.
When we come at the end of time
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;
For the good are always the merry,
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle,
And the merry love to dance:
And when the folk there spy me,
They will all come up to me,
With "Here is the fiddler of Dooney!"
And dance like a wave of the sea.

~ William Butler Yeats, Fiddler Of Dooney
,
1296:Even the Inquisitor's eyebrows shot up when Magnus strode through the gate. The High Warlock was wearing black leather pants, a belt with a buckle in the shape of a jeweled M, and a cobalt-blue Prussian military jacket open over a white lace shirt. He shimmered with layers of glitter. His gaze rested for a moment on Alec's face with amusement and a hint of something else before moving on to Jace, prone on the ground.
"Is he dead?" he inquired. "He looks dead."
"No," snapped Maryse. "He's not dead."
"Have you checked? I could kick him if you want." Magnus moved toward Jace.
"Stop that!" the Inquisitor snapped, sounding like Clary's third-grade teacher demanding that she stop doodling on her desk with a marker. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1297:A nation can survive its fools, and even the ambitious. But it cannot survive treason from within. An enemy at the gates is less formidable, for he is known and carries his banner openly. But the traitor moves amongst those within the gate freely, his sly whispers rustling through all the alleys, heard in the very halls of government itself. For the traitor appears not a traitor; he speaks in accents familiar to his victims, and he wears their face and their arguments, he appeals to the baseness that lies deep in the hearts of all men. He rots the soul of a nation, he works secretly and unknown in the night to undermine the pillars of the city, he infects the body politic so that it can no longer resist. A murderer is less to fear. ~ Taylor Caldwell,
1298:When he awakened from sleep, he said, “Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it.... This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven” (Genesis 28:16–17). In the Celtic world that gateway is present everywhere. In every place is the immediacy of heaven. In every moment we can glimpse the Light that was in the beginning and from which all things have come. As Oliver says, “The threshold is always near.”3 We can step over this threshold and back again in the fleeting span of a second. In a single step we can find ourselves momentarily in that other world, the world of eternal Light, which is woven inseparably through this world—the world of matter that is forever unfolding like a river in flow. ~ John Philip Newell,
1299:The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they’re only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren’t stitched up quite right, the place they could almost slip right into through if the skin wasn’t trying to keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side of the theater where the curtain keeps rising. I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air. I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for to love me. If this isn’t a kingdom then I don’t know what is. ~ Richard Siken,
1300:As we consider this text, two things ought to remain in our minds. It states that we humans do not have the ability to apprehend divine things, but it also states that the ability can be given us from heaven. It is quite plain in the scriptural revelation that spiritual things are hidden by a veil, and by nature, a human does not have the ability to comprehend and get hold of them. He comes up against a blank wall. He takes doctrine and texts and proofs and creeds and theology, and lays them up like a wall—but he cannot find the gate! He stands in the darkness and all about him is intellectual knowledge of God—but not the knowledge of God, for there is a difference between the intellectual knowledge of God and the Spirit-revealed knowledge. ~ A W Tozer,
1301:I became a vegan the day I watched a video of a calf being born on a factory farm. The baby was dragged away from his mother before he hit the ground. The helpless calf strained its head backwards to find his mother. The mother bolted after her son and exploded into a rage when the rancher slammed the gate on her. She wailed the saddest noise I’d ever heard an animal make, and then thrashed and dug into the ground, burying her face in the muddy placenta. I had no idea what was happening respecting brain chemistry, animal instinct, or whatever. I just knew that this was deeply wrong. I just knew that such suffering could never be worth the taste of milk and veal. I empathized with the cow and the calf and, in so doing, my life changed. ~ James McWilliams,
1302:A receptionist is a lazy dame that can’t do anything on earth, and wants to sit out front where everybody can watch her do it. She’s the one in the black silk dress, cut low in the neck and high in the legs, just inside the gate, in front of that little one-position switchboard, that she gets a right number out of now and then, mostly then. You know, the one that tells you to have a seat, Mr Doakes will see you in just a few minutes. Then she goes on showing her legs and polishing her nails. If she sleeps with Doakes she gets twenty bucks a week, if not she gets twelve. In other words, nothing personal about it and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but by the looks of this card I’d say that was you.’
‘It’s quite all right. I sleep fine. ~ James M Cain,
1303:But to be included in Dick Diver’s world for a while was a remarkable experience: people believed he made special reservations about them, recognizing the proud uniqueness of their destinies, buried under the compromises of how many years. He won everyone quickly with an exquisite consideration and a politeness that moved so fast and intuitively that it could be examined only in its effect. Then, without caution, lest the first bloom of the relation wither, he opened the gate to his amusing world. So long as they subscribed to it completely, their happiness was his preoccupation, but at the first flicker of doubt as to its all- inclusiveness he evaporated before their eyes, leaving little communicable memory of what he had said or done. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald,
1304:If you run now, without a moment's rest, you will still be in time to warn King Lune."
Shasta's heart fainted at these words for he felt he had no strength left. And he writhed inside at what seemed the cruelty and unfairness of the demand. He had not yet learned that if you do one good deed your reward usually is to be set to do another and harder and better one. But all he said out loud was:
"Where is the King?"
The Hermit turned and pointed with his staff. "Look," he said. "There is another gate, right opposite to the one you entered by. Open it and go straight ahead: always straight ahead, over level or steep, over smooth or rough, over dry or wet. I know by my art that you will find King Lune straight ahead. But run, run: always run. ~ C S Lewis,
1305:At The Door
I thought myself indeed secure,
So fast the door, so firm the lock;
But, lo! he toddling comes to lure
My parent ear with timorous knock.
My heart were stone could it withstand
The sweetness of my baby's plea,-That timorous, baby knocking and
"Please let me in,--it's only me."
I threw aside the unfinished book,
Regardless of its tempting charms,
And opening wide the door, I took
My laughing darling in my arms.
Who knows but in Eternity,
I, like a truant child, shall wait
The glories of a life to be,
Beyond the Heavenly Father's gate?
And will that Heavenly Father heed
The truant's supplicating cry,
As at the outer door I plead,
"'T is I, O Father! only I"?
~ Eugene Field,
1306:Speaking about time’s relentless passage, Powell’s narrator compares certain stages of experience to the game of Russian Billiards as once he used to play it with a long vanished girlfriend. A game in which, he says,

“...at the termination of a given passage of time...the hidden gate goes down...and all scoring is doubled. This is perhaps an image of how we live. For reasons not always at the time explicable, there are specific occasions when events begin suddenly to take on a significance previously unsuspected; so that before we really know where we are, life seems to have begun in earnest at last, and we ourselves, scarcely aware that any change has taken place, are careering uncontrollably down the slippery avenues of eternity."
~ Anthony Powell,
1307:is something a friend once told me. She said that every single one of us at birth is given an emotional acre all our own. You get one, your awful Uncle Phil gets one, I get one, Tricia Nixon gets one, everyone gets one. And as long as you don’t hurt anyone, you really get to do with your acre as you please. You can plant fruit trees or flowers or alphabetized rows of vegetables, or nothing at all. If you want your acre to look like a giant garage sale, or an auto-wrecking yard, that’s what you get to do with it. There’s a fence around your acre, though, with a gate, and if people keep coming onto your land and sliming it or trying to get you to do what they think is right, you get to ask them to leave. And they have to go, because this is your acre. ~ Anne Lamott,
1308:Alric! Stop it!" Pickering snapped at him. "You mustn't let the men see you crying!"

Fury flared in Alric, and he spun on the count. "No? No? Look at them! They are dying for me. They are dying on my order! I say they do have a right to see their king! They all have a right to see their king!"

Alric wiped the tears from his cheeks and gathered his reins. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having my face put in the dirt! I won't stand it. I'm tired of being helpless. That's my city, built by my ancestors! If my people chose to fight, then, by Maribor, I want them to know it's me they fight!"

The prince put on his helm, drew his father's large sword and spurred his horse forward, not at the trench but at the castle gate itself. ~ Michael J Sullivan,
1309:Among [Applewhite's] other teachings was the classic cult specialty of developing disdain for anyone outside of the Heaven's Gate commune. Applewhite flattered his would-be alien flock that they were an elite elect far superior to the non-initiated humans whom he considered to be deluded zombies.[...]Applewhite effectively fed his paranoid persecution complex to his followers to ensure blind loyalty to the group and himself while fostering alienation from the mundane world. This paradoxical superior/fearful attitude towards “Them” (i.e., anyone who is not one of “Us”) is one of the simplest means of hooking even the most skeptical curiosity seeker into the solipsistic netherworld of a [mentally unbalanced] leader's insecure and threatened worldview. ~ Zeena Schreck,
1310:It is a commonplace that every age, or almost every age, thinks that its own time is one of special difficulty. The barbarians seem always to be at the gate. Alas, in our present day this is rather too literally so. But what many fail to realise is that the barbarians are a more various and numerous group than just those unspeakable villains who behead hostages in the desert. Barbarians might also wear ties and travel business class, they might occupy seats of power in government. They might be us, ourselves, when we give up certain civil liberties and betray our own values in the spurious belief that this will protect us from terrorism, organised crime, unwelcome immigration. Forms of dismantling civilisation might differ, but the result is the same. ~ A C Grayling,
1311:The Truth The Dead Know
Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.
We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.
My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.
And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in the stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone.
~ Anne Sexton,
1312:One of the simplest is the drive for survival, in other words, your very deep sense of self-protection. If, in the field of sensory inflows in which you are immersed, the parts of the self that gate inflows pick up sensory-encoded meanings that can affect your self-organizational integrity, they will have a very deep evolutionary drive to signal your conscious attention. However, if the paradigm or lens through which you view the world around you does not allow you to receive those signals consciously, this can be thought of as repression-driven gating then the unconscious parts of the self may begin to override the conscious programming. In response your emotional state or behavior may change, sometimes significantly. You just won’t know why. ~ Stephen Harrod Buhner,
1313:Listen up, ’cause I’m only gonna say this once,” Ty muttered as they walked to their gate. “I don’t talk when I fly. I sleep. And I don’t listen when I eat, understand? I don’t wanna be buddies. I don’t wanna chat,” he said with a sarcastic lilt to the word. “I don’t wanna know about your childhood or how your momma whipped you with a rubber glove or how much therapy you had to go through ’cause you flunked out of preschool. I don’t wanna hear about how you want to be Director someday or how many collars you got chasin’ those Internet freaks or how proud you are of your bowel movements. I don’t wanna go shopping at Barney’s with you, and I’m not gonna help you pick out your ties to match your socks and, I swear to God, if you get me shot, I’ll kill you. ~ Abigail Roux,
1314:I have heard of certain persons who have been in the habit of hearing a favorite minister, and when they go to another place, they say, "I cannot hear anybody after my own minister; I shall stay at home and read a sermon." Please remember the passage, "Not forsaking the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is." Let me also entreat you not to be so foolishly partial as to deprive your soul of its food.... If you are not content to learn here a little and there a little, you will soon be half starved, and then you will be glad to get back again to the despised minister and pick up what his field will yield you.... Go and glean where the Lord has opened the gate for you. Why the text alone is worth the journey; do not miss it. ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon,
1315:Later, some evil-disposed person invented Kodaks, and Begglely went everywhere slung on to a thing that looked like an overgrown missionary box, and that bore a legend to the effect that if Begglely would pull the button, a shameless Company would do the rest. Life became a misery to Begglely’s friends. Nobody dared to do anything for fear of being taken in the act. He took an instantaneous photograph of his own father swearing at the gardener, and snapped his youngest sister and her lover at the exact moment of farewell at the garden gate. Nothing was sacred to him. He Kodaked his aunt’s funeral from behind, and showed the chief mourner but one whispering a funny story into the ear of the third cousin as they stood behind their hats beside the grave. ~ Jerome K Jerome,
1316:Death is not our foe. There is no foe. There is only the stunningly fragile human body, a holy creation capable of loving with such astonishing strength but which is weak to the curses of a fallen world. It is the frailty of flesh and blood that causes us to succumb to forces greater than ourselves. We are like butterflies, delicate and wonderful, here on earth for only a brilliant moment and then away we fly. Death is appointed merely to close the door to our suffering and open wide the gate to Paradise. If we were made of stone or iron, we would be impervious to disease and injury and disaster, but then we could not give love and receive love, could we? We’d be unable to feel anything at all, and surely incapable of spreading our wings and flying. . . . ~ Susan Meissner,
1317:True Love And New Love
OVER the meadow and down the lane
To the gate by the twisted thorn:
Your feet should know each turn of the way
You trod so many many a day,
Before the old love was put out of its pain,
Before the new love was born.
Kiss her, hold her and fold her close,
Tell her the old true tale:
You ought to know each turn of the phrase,-You learned them all in the poor old days
Before the birth of the new red rose,
Before the old rose grew pale.
And do not fear I shall creep to-night
To make a third at your tryst:
My ghost, if it walked, would only wait
To scare the others away from the gate
Where you teach your new love the old delight,
With the lips that your old love kissed.
~ Edith Nesbit,
1318:Avalokiteśvara’s mantra is: Gate, gate, pāragate, pārasaṃgate, bodhi svāhā. Gate means gone: gone from suffering to the liberation from suffering. Gone from forgetfulness to mindfulness. Gone from duality to ​nonduality. Gate, gate means gone, gone. Pāragate means gone all the way to the other shore. So this mantra is said in a very strong way. Gone, gone, gone all the way over. In Pārasaṃgate, saṃ means everyone, the sangha, the entire community of beings. Everyone gone over to the other shore. Bodhi is the light inside, enlightenment, or awakening. You see, and the vision of reality liberates you. Svāhā is a cry of joy and triumph, like “Eureka!” or “Hallelujah!” “Gone, gone, gone all the way over, everyone gone to the other shore, enlightenment, svāhā! ~ Thich Nhat Hanh,
1319:Veterans' Cemetery
The ceremonies of the day have ceased,
Abandoned to the ragged crow's parade.
The flags unravel in the caterpillar's feast.
The wreaths collapse onto the stones they shade.
How quietly doves gather by the gate
Like souls who have no heaven and no hell.
The patient grass reclaims its lost estate
Where one stone angel stands as sentinel.
The voices whispering in the burning leaves,
Faint and inhuman, what can they desire
When every season feeds upon the past,
And summer's green ignites the autumn's fire?
The afternoon's a single thread of light
Sewn through the tatters of a leafless willow,
As one by one the branches fade from sight,
And time curls up like paper turning yellow.
~ Dana Gioia,
1320:Advice to your 20-year-old self? “I would say, ‘Write everything down because it’s all very fleeting.’ I would say, ‘Keep a journal,’ which I have but I would have been more meticulous. Then I would say, ‘Don’t bow to the gatekeepers at the head of, in my case, show business, but at the gate of any business or any endeavor.’ Don’t bow to the gatekeepers because I think, in essence, there are no gatekeepers. You are the gatekeeper. . . . “Don’t waste your time on marketing, just try to get better. . . . “And also, it’s not about being good; it’s about being great. Because what I find, the older I get, is that a lot of people are good, and a lot of people are smart, and a lot of people are clever. But not a lot of people give you their soul when they perform. ~ Timothy Ferriss,
1321:Amoretti LXXXI: Fayre Is My Love, When Her Fayre
Golden Heares
Fayre is my love, when her fayre golden heares,
With the loose wynd ye waving chance to marke:
Fayre when the rose in her red cheekes appears,
Or in her eyes the fyre of love does sparke.
Fayre when her brest lyke a rich laden barke,
With pretious merchandize she forth doth lay:
Fayre when that cloud of pryde which oft doth dark
Her goodly light with smiles she drives away,
But fayrest she, when so she doth display
The gate with pearles and rubyes richly dight:
Throgh which her words so wise do make their way
To beare the message of her gentle spright.
The rest be works of natures wonderment,
But this the worke of harts astonishment.
~ Edmund Spenser,
1322:Alice Wakes at Two
and Looks Out the Window"

A gate, she thinks,
I'm the gate
of my breathing,
of this powdery chant,
and I'll always mistake stars
for dust exploding
white in the noon sun.
They dance, those jewels,
as will I,
dance to the zoo
with my blue feet on,
with a silver drum,
dance bad words and hard tunes,
dance the colors men blush to.
Once there
I'll climb the fences,
seduce the alarms,
I'll move from lion
to monkey to lamb
and kiss the small packets
of their hearts.
Then come home to bed,
to warm eternity,
to the wheel
that twines my flesh
and spins it to sleep.
So fall, star,
and meet your embrace.
I'll name you True Love
and lick you with wishes. ~ Bob Hicok,
1323:Only those elements time cannot wear: The Angels, the Empyrean, and the First Matter are the elements time cannot wear, for they will last to all time. Man, however, in his mortal state, is not eternal. The Gate of Hell, therefore, was created before man. The theological point is worth attention. The doctrine of Original Sin is, of course, one familiar to many creeds. Here, however, it would seem that the preparation for damnation predates Original Sin. True, in one interpretation. Hell was created for the punishment of the Rebellious Angels and not for man. Had man not sinned, he would never have known Hell. But on the other hand, Dante’s God was one who knew all, and knew therefore that man would indeed sin. The theological problem is an extremely delicate one. ~ Dante Alighieri,
1324:The Sun Cup
The earth is the cup of the sun,
That he filleth at morning with wine,
With the warm, strong wine of his might
From the vintage of gold and of light,
Fills it, and makes it divine.
And at night when his journey is done,
At the gate of his radiant hall,
He setteth his lips to the brim,
With a long last look of his eye,
And lifts it and draineth it dry,
Drains till he leaveth it all
Empty and hollow and dim.
And then, as he passes to sleep,
Still full of the feats that he did,
Long ago in Olympian wars,
He closes it down with the sweep
Of its slow-turning luminous lid,
Its cover of darkness and stars,
Wrought once by Hephaestus of old
With violet and vastness and gold.
~ Archibald Lampman,
1325:There is something magnificent in the performance and the inexorability of ceremony. However tired, however long the journey, he walks with dignity and, when all is said and done, majesty. So it will be here, entering by the Gate of the Sun between the trumpets and the troops, the prefect at his side, the guard and the priests accompanying him: he will enter his city, coming like a bridegroom to an unfamiliar bride. He will see her with the certainty of possession, she him with wonder, curiosity and fear. So Hadrian will walk up the dizzying white steps to the temple, slowly but without pausing for breath, always standing forward of his retinue so that the crowds may see him – not so far forward that they may reach him, but near enough that they feel they could. ~ Elizabeth Speller,
1326:Oscar Hummel
I staggered on through darkness,
There was a hazy sky, a few stars
Which I followed as best I could.
It was nine o'clock, I was trying to get home.
But somehow I was lost,
Though really keeping the road.
Then I reeled through a gate and into a yard,
And called at the top of my voice:
"Oh, Fiddler! Oh, Mr. Jones!"
(I thought it was his house and he would show me the way home.)
But who should step out but A. D. Blood,
In his night shirt, waving a stick of wood,
And roaring about the cursed saloons,
And the criminals they made?
"You drunken Oscar Hummel", he said,
As I stood there weaving to and fro,
Taking the blows from the stick in his hand
Till I dropped down dead at his feet.
~ Edgar Lee Masters,
1327:Zippers are primal and modern at the very same time. On the one hand, your zipper is primitive and reptilian, on the other mechanical and slick. A zipper is where the Industrial Revolution meets the Cobra Cult, don't you think? Ahh. Little alligators of ecstasy, that's what zippers are. Sexy, too. Now your button, a button is prim and persnickety. There's somethin' Victorian about a row o' buttons. But a zipper, why a zipper is the very snake at the gate of Eden, waitin' to escort a true believer into the Garden. Faith, I should be sewin' more zippers into me garments, for I have many erogenous zones that require speedy access. Mmm, old zipper creeper, hanging head down like the carcass of a lizard; the phantom viper that we shun in daytime and communicate with at night. ~ Tom Robbins,
1328:All these rich people with their private-jet escape routes to New Zealand—maybe it’s the operational manager in me, but all I can think about are apocalypse logistics: What zombie pilot is going to fly all those planes, and which zombie air-traffic controller is going to help land them? And who is going to do all the ongoing work of cooking and cleaning and shopping? Is the New Zealand infrastructure prepared for this? And why would people in New Zealand allow planes full of potential plague-germ carriers onto their island, no matter how much money they have? Would money have value in the new postapocalyptic economy—or would toilet paper be worth even more? Do the pilot and crew who flew you to New Zealand get saved, or do they get barred at the security gate of the bunker? ~ Ellen Pao,
1329:To cap off your Trastevere stroll with one more sight, consider visiting Villa Farnesina, a Renaissance villa decorated by Raphael . To get there, face the Church of Santa Maria in Trastevere and leave the piazza by walking along the right side of the church, following Via della Paglia to Piazza di S. Egidio. Exit the piazza near the church and you’ll be on Via della Scala. Follow through the Porta Settimiana, where it changes names to Via della Lungara. On your right, you’ll pass John Cabot University. Look for a white arch that reads Accademia dei Lincei. The villa is through this gate at #230. If you’re in the mood to extend this walk, head to the river, cross the pedestrian bridge, Ponte Sisto, and make your way to Campo de’ Fiori, where the Heart of Rome Walk begins. ~ Rick Steves,
1330:Seeing is for us the most authentic possibility of acquiring something. If god had only made our hands to be like our eyes—so ready to grasp, so willing to relinquish all things—then we could truly acquire wealth. We do not acquire wealth by letting something remain and wilt in our hands but only by letting everything pass through their grasp as if through the festive gate of return and homecoming. Our hands ought not to be a coffin for us but a bed sheltering the twilight slumber and dreams of the things held there, out of whose depths their dearest secrets speak. Once out of our hands, however, things ought to move forward, now sturdy and strong, and we should keep nothing of them but the courageous morning melody that hovers and shimmers behind their fading steps. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
1331:We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always—
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flames are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one. ~ T S Eliot,
1332:An intercom popped on and Paris dais, "Knock. Knock."
Static and then a woman's voice said, "Who's there?"
Kat raised a brow at me, and I shrugged.
"The interruption cow," Paris said, glancing at Luc, who shook his head.
From the intercom, "The inter-"
"Moooooo!" Pars dais, snickerin.
Kat giggled.
Archer rolled his eyes and shook his head.
There was an audible huff from the intercom. "That was stupid. The gate is opening. Give ist a sec."
"That was pretty lame" I said.
Paris chuckled. "I saw it on the Internet. Made me laugh. I got more. Want to hear them?"
"No." My rebuttal was joined by Archer's. Something we agreed on. Huh. Go figure.
"Too bad." Paris eased forward as the gated split, spreading wide. "That wasn't even my best one. ~ Jennifer L Armentrout,
1333:Lord!" he said, "when you sell a man a book you don't sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue--you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night--there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book I mean. Jiminy! If I were the baker of the butcher or the broom huckster, people would run to the gate when I came by--just waiting for my stuff. And here I go loaded with everlasting salvation--yes, ma'am, salvation for their little, stunted minds--and it's hard to make 'em see it. That's what makes it worth while--I'm doing something that nobody else from Nazereth, Maine, to Walla Walla, Washington, has ever thought of. It's a new field, but by the bones of Whitman it's worth while. That's what this country needs--more books! ~ Christopher Morley,
1334:Yet only minutes before, on the roof, a cold Havana between his lips, he had been silent, both he and his wife bundled in winter coats and hats as if about to set out on a journey. Dark against the sky. A statuesque couple. For a while the Brandenburg Gate was only a black mass, scanned off and on by police searchlights. But then the torchlight procession arrived, spreading like a stream of lava which, separated for a short time by the pylons, eventually flowed together again, unremitting, unstoppable, solemn, portentous, lighting up the night, lighting up the Gate to the quadriga of stallions, to the goddess's sign of victory. We too on the roof of Liebermann's house were lit by that fatal glow, even as we were hit with the smoke and stench of a hundred thousand and more torches. ~ G nter Grass,
1335:Early One Morning
Early one morning in May I set out,
And nobody I knew was about.
I'm bound away for ever,
Away somewhere, away for ever.
There was no wind to trouble the weathercocks.
I had burnt my letters and darned my socks.
No one knew I was going away,
I thought myself I should come back some day.
I heard the brook through the town gardens run.
O sweet was the mud turned to dust by the sun.
A gate banged in a fence and banged in my head.
'A fine morning, sir', a shepherd said.
I could not return from my liberty,
To my youth and my love and my misery.
The past is the only dead thing that smells sweet,
The only sweet thing that is not also fleet.
I'm bound away for ever,
Away somehwere, away for ever.
~ Edward Thomas,
1336:JOS20.1 The LORD also spake unto Joshua, saying,  JOS20.2 Speak to the children of Israel, saying, Appoint out for you cities of refuge, whereof I spake unto you by the hand of Moses:  JOS20.3 That the slayer that killeth any person unawares and unwittingly may flee thither: and they shall be your refuge from the avenger of blood. JOS20.4 And when he that doth flee unto one of those cities shall stand at the entering of the gate of the city, and shall declare his cause in the ears of the elders of that city, they shall take him into the city unto them, and give him a place, that he may dwell among them. JOS20.5 And if the avenger of blood pursue after him, then they shall not deliver the slayer up into his hand; because he smote his neighbour unwittingly, and hated him not beforetime. ~ Anonymous,
1337:We came to the street light in the corner, and I wondered how many times Dill stood there hugging the fat pole, watching, waiting, hoping. I wondered how many times Jem and I had made this journey, but I entered the Radley front gate for the seecond time in my life. Boo and I walked up the steps to the porch. His fingers found the doorknob. He gently released my hand, opened the door, enter inside, and shut the door behind him. I never saw him again.
Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between. Boo was our neighbor. He gave us two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of good-luck pennies, and our lives. But neighbors give in return. We never put back into the tree what we took out of it: w had given him nothing, and it made me sad. ~ Harper Lee,
1338:There is a gate across the entrance, which Liam moves aside for me, and there is a scrabbling noise as a red blur comes zooming across the room. Liam reaches down and picks up the dervish, who licks him frantically. "Hello, girl. Nice to see you too. This is Anneke, she's a friend of mine. Anneke, this is Kerry. Like the country." I can finally see that she is an Irish setter, maybe four or five months old, and I reach out to pet her, and Liam drops her unceremoniously in my arms. She is soft and warm, and immediately snuggles cozily against me.
"Cute pup."
"Yeah, I have to say, she has stolen my heart."
"That's just because she's Irish."
"That might be it. Always did have a thing for redheads." This makes me blush, and I focus on cuddling the puppy to cover my discomfit. ~ Stacey Ballis,
1339:Ghalib had arrived at Delhi College in his palanquin having being invited to apply for the new post. But after reaching the college gate, he refused to enter until Mr Thomason, the secretary, came and welcomed him, as he insisted his aristocratic status dictated. After a long stand-off, Mr Thomason came out personally and explained that a formal welcome was appropriate when he attended the Governor’s durbar, but not in the present case, when he came as a candidate for employment. Ghalib replied, ‘I contemplated taking a government appointment in the expectation that this would bring me greater honour than I now receive, not a reduction in those already accorded to me.’ The secretary replied, ‘I am bound by regulations.’ ‘Then I hope you will excuse me,’ Ghalib said, and came away. ~ William Dalrymple,
1340:Pike said, “The hat?” “Still there, in front of the taco stand like you said.” “Mm.” “I’m thinking I’ll go in alone, while you keep an eye on the hat.” “What about the brothers?” “I’ll feel them out. They may not even know what their father was doing.” Pike turned away without another word, slipped into his Jeep, and left. Mr. Small Talk. Sixty-five seconds later, I parked on the street across from the gate, and no one except the hat man paid attention as I walked to the little office. The young guy washing the wrecker kept washing while an older man I hadn’t seen before climbed aboard a light wheel-lifter, and backed past me toward the street. Off to help a stranded motorist. I couldn’t see Pike and didn’t know where he was, but neither did they. Especially the hat in the Subaru. Cold ~ Robert Crais,
1341:The car drives through, stops while the man closes and fastens the prickly gate behind it. The bell shuts off; the stillness is deafening by contrast. The car goes on until the outline of a house suddenly uptilts the searching headlight-beams, log-built, sprawling, resembling a hunting-lodge. But there's no friendliness to it. There is something ominous and forbidding about its look, so dark, so forgotten, so secretive-looking. The kind of a house that has a maw to swallow with - a one-way house, that you feel will never disgorge any living thing that enters it. Leprous in the moonlight festering on its roof. And the two round sworls of light played by the heads of the car against its side, intersecting, form a pear-shaped oval that resembles a gleaming skull. ("Jane Brown's Body") ~ Cornell Woolrich,
1342:Lord!" he said, "when you sell a man a book you don't sell him just twelve ounces of paper and ink and glue — you sell him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour and ships at sea by night — there's all heaven and earth in a book, a real book I mean. Jiminy! If I were the baker or the butcher or the broom huckster, people would run to the gate when I came by — just waiting for my stuff. And here I go loaded with everlasting salvation — yes, ma'am, salvation for their little, stunted minds — and it's hard to make 'em see it. That's what makes it worth while — I'm doing something that nobody else from Nazareth, Maine, to Walla Walla, Washington, has ever thought of. It's a new field, but by the bones of Whitman, it's worth while. That's what this country needs — more books! ~ Christopher Morley,
1343:But Jace", Clary said. "Valentine taught him more than just fighting. He taught him languages, and how to play the piano"
"That was Jocelyn's influence." Sebastian said her name unwillingly, as if he hated the sound of it. "She thought Valentine ought to be able to talk about books, art, music...not just killing things. He passed that on to Jace."
A wrought iron blue gate rose to their left. Sebastian ducked under it and beckoned Clary to follow him. She didn't have to duck but went after him, her hands stuffed into her pockets. "What about you?" she asked.
He held up his hands. They were unmistakably her mother's hands - dexterous, long-fingered, meant for holding a brush or a pen. "I learned to play the instruments of war, " he said, "and paint in blood. I am not like Jace. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1344:Forty years ago, Richard Branson, who ultimately founded Virgin Air, found himself in a similar situation in an airport in the Caribbean. They had just canceled his flight, the only flight that day. Instead of freaking out about how essential the flight was, how badly his day was ruined, how his entire career was now in jeopardy, the young Branson walked across the airport to the charter desk and inquired about the cost of chartering a flight out of Puerto Rico. Then he borrowed a portable blackboard and wrote, “Seats to Virgin Islands, $39.” He went back to his gate, sold enough seats to his fellow passengers to completely cover his costs, and made it home on time. Not to mention planting the seeds for the airline he’d start decades later. Sounds like the kind of person you’d like to hire ~ Seth Godin,
1345:V. R. Lang

You are so serious, as if
a glacier spoke in your ear
or you had to walk through
the great gate of Kiev
to get to the living room.

I worry about this because I
love you. As if it weren't grotesque
enough that we live in hydrogen
and breathe like atomizers, you
have to think I'm a great architect!

and you float regally by on your
incessant escalator, calm, a jungle queen.
Thinking it a steam shovel. Looking
a little uneasy. But you are yourself
again, yanking silver beads off your neck.

Remember, the Russian Easter Overture
is full of bunnies. Be always high,
full of regard and honor and lanolin. Oh
ride horseback in pink linen, be happy!
and ride with your beads on, because it rains. ~ Frank O Hara,
1346:When I lifted the first veil and entered the outer court of the temple of initiation, I saw in half darkness the figure of a woman sitting on a high throne between two pillars of the the temple, one white and one black. Mystery emanated from her and was about her. Sacred symbols shone on her, and on her head a golden tiara surmounted by a two-horned Moon. To enter the Temple one must lift the second veil and pass between the two pillars. And to pass one must obtain the keys, read the book, and understand the symbols. Are you able to do this? She whispered to me “ learn to discern the real from the false. Listen only to the voice that is soundless. Look only on that which is invisible and remember that in thee thyself is the Temple and the gate to it, and the mystery, and the initiation. ~ P D Ouspensky,
1347:In running over the pages of our history for seven hundred years, we shall scarcely find a single great event which has not promoted equality of condition. The Crusades and the English wars decimated the nobles and divided their possessions: the municipal corporations introduced democratic liberty into the bosom of feudal monarchy; the invention of fire-arms equalized the vassal and the noble on the field of battle; the art of printing opened the same resources to the minds of all classes; the post-office brought knowledge alike to the door of the cottage and to the gate of the palace; and Protestantism proclaimed that all men are alike able to find the road to heaven. The discovery of America opened a thousand new paths to fortune, and led obscure adventurers to wealth and power. ~ Alexis de Tocqueville,
1348:This, as Joseph had pointed out on retreat, is the lie we tell ourselves our whole lives: as soon as we get the next meal, party, vacation, sexual encounter, as soon as we get married, get a promotion, get to the airport check-in, get through security and consume a bouquet of Auntie Anne’s Cinnamon Sugar Stix, we’ll feel really good. But as soon as we find ourselves in the airport gate area, having ingested 470 calories’ worth of sugar and fat before dinner, we don’t bother to examine the lie that fuels our lives. We tell ourselves we’ll sleep it off, take a run, eat a healthy breakfast, and then, finally, everything will be complete. We live so much of our lives pushed forward by these “if only” thoughts, and yet the itch remains. The pursuit of happiness becomes the source of our unhappiness. ~ Dan Harris,
1349:A typical Virgin airline employee is the sort of person who will joke with passengers and smile, not just nod their head and say: ‘Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir.’ I shared a story about one occasion when we had a short delay before a Virgin flight and people had to queue up at the gate. One of the passengers jumped the queue and marched up to the desk. Our team member very politely asked him to get back into the queue. He turned on her and said: ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ So she picked up the intercom and announced: ‘I have a young man at gate 23, who seems to be lost – he doesn’t know who he is.’ The other passengers roared with laughter. ‘Fuck you!’ shouted the self-important man. She kept a straight face and replied: ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to get in line for that too, sir! ~ Richard Branson,
1350:He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. ~ James Joyce,
1351:VISION OF A WISARD

How many of you wish to be Wizards when you grow old?
How many of you want to fly?

I wished to become a dragon – he said
And he looked at us with eyes filled with fire

The Wizard of Earth’s Sea
Descended to tell us a secret of
ABRACADABRA
Get to know – he said - God’s true name

The word will initiate Power
Gate keepers of Ancient Knowledge
Will open their doors
Mythological Archetypes will start their dance
Leading you to your tribal clout

Skeletons scattered over the burial grounds
Ancestors with their weapons and spears
Saints and Demons
Doctors and Gypsies
Healers and Witches
Will join you to celebrate

The Birth of Self
Power of Mind over Body
The Vision of the Dominion of Light ~ Nata a Nuit Pantovi,
1352:Homer Clapp
Often Aner Clute at the gate
Refused me the parting kiss,
Saying we should be engaged before that;
And just with a distant clasp of the hand
She bade me good-night, as I brought her home
From the skating rink or the revival.
No sooner did my departing footsteps die away
Than Lucius Atherton,
(So I learned when Aner went to Peoria)
Stole in at her window, or took her riding
Behind his spanking team of bays
Into the country.
The shock of it made me settle down,
And I put all the money I got from my father's estate
Into the canning factory, to get the job
Of head accountant, and lost it all.
And then I knew I was one of Life's fools,
Whom only death would treat as the equal
Of other men, making me feel like a man.
~ Edgar Lee Masters,
1353:I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
the door but tracks of birds;
in the room of the old monk
no one was living, and I
staring through the window
saw but a hair duster hanging
on the wall, itself covered
with dust; emptily I sighed
thinking to go, but then
turning back several times,
seeing how the mist on
the hills was flying, and then
a light rain fell as if it
were flowers falling from
the sky, making a music of
its own; away in the distance
came the cry of a monkey, and
for me the cares of the world
slipped away, and I was filled
with the beauty around me.
by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes

~ Li Bai, Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him
,
1354:...Were you in the military?"
"Are you kidding me? I was in high school."
"High school," he said quietly. "You’re American. And a civilian?"
"Uh, yes. An American civilian."
"Lovely. A straight answer. Keep it up. Did somebody train you?"
"No, nobody trained me. Unless you count the Rhode Island child welfare and juvenile justice systems. Why?"
Malachi held up his hand and ticked off the reasons with his fingers. "You stole a Guard's weapon. If I'm not mistaken, it belonged to a Gate Guard. Which means you managed to do it on your way into the city. You escaped Amid even after he had you in hand. You slashed his leg in just the right place, preventing him from chasing you. Under extreme duress, injured and cornered, you threw a knife and hit a target-"
"It's not like I hit something vital. ~ Sarah Fine,
1355:Long-Term Results The practical value of the solutions obtained is one way to determine if the subjective reports of accomplishments might be temporary euphoria. The nature of these solutions covered a broad spectrum, including: A new approach to the design of a vibratory microtome A commercial building design, accepted by the client Space-probe experiments devised to measure solar properties Design of a linear electron accelerator beam-steering device An engineering improvement to a magnetic tape recorder A chair design modeled and accepted by the manufacturer A letterhead design approved by the customer A mathematical theorem regarding NOR-gate circuits Completion of a furniture-line design A new conceptual model of a photon found to be useful A design of a private dwelling approved by the client Table 9.3 ~ James Fadiman,
1356:At the Arrivals gate, we are greeted by a small crowd, watching us with hungry eyes or eyesockets. We drop our cargo on the floor: two mostly intact men, a few meaty legs, and a dismembered torso, all still warm. Call it leftovers. Call it takeout. Our fellow Dead fall on them and feast right there on the floor like animals. The life remaining in those cells will keep them from full-dying, but the Dead who don’t hunt will never quite be satisfied. Like men at sea deprived of fresh fruit, they will wither in their deficiencies, weak and perpetually empty, because the new hunger is a lonely monster. It grudgingly accepts the brown meat and lukewarm blood, but what it craves is closeness, that grim sense of connection that courses between their eyes and ours in those final moments, like some dark negative of love. ~ Isaac Marion,
1357:How narrow is the gate and strait is the way that leadeth to life, and few there are that find it!”6 are words of our Lord. 8. The narrow gate is this night of sense. The soul detaches itself from sense that it may enter on it, basing itself on faith,7 which is a stranger to all sense, that it may afterwards travel along the strait road of the other night of the spirit, by which it advances towards God in most pure faith, which is the means of union with Him. This road, because so strait, dark, and terrible—for there is no comparison, as I shall show,8 between its trials and darkness and those of the night of sense—is traveled by very few, but its blessings are so much the more. I shall begin now to say somewhat, with the utmost brevity, of the blessings of the night of sense, that I may pass on to the other. ~ Juan de la Cruz,
1358:Pardon me,” he said. His voice was smooth—part Romanian, part American, part Ricardo Montalban discussing Corinthian leather. “You are Myron Bolitar, are you not?” “I am.” He dismissed Jack Lord with a nod. Big Jack was not happy about it, but he moved out of the way. His body swung to the side like a metal gate, allowing only Myron to enter. Pavel Menansi held out a hand. For a moment Myron thought he wanted him to kiss it, but it ended in a brief handshake. “Please,” Pavel said. “Sit here. Next to me.” Whoever was in the seat quickly made himself scarce. Myron sat. Pavel did likewise. “I apologize for my guard’s zeal, but you must understand. People, they want autographs. Parents, they want to discuss their child’s play. But here”—he spread his hands—“this is not the time or place.” “I understand,” Myron said. ~ Harlan Coben,
1359:It was on the steamer carrying him through the Golden Gate that he happened to reach down into the hole in the lining of the right pocket of his overcoat and discover the envelope that his brother had solemnly handed to him almost a month before. It contained a single piece of paper, which Thomas had hastily stuffed into it that morning as they all were leaving the house together for the last time, by way or in lieu of expressing the feelings of love, fear, and hopefulness that his brother's escape inspired. It was the drawing of Harry Houdini, taking a calm cup of tea in the middle of the sky, that Thimas had made in his notebook during his abortive career as a librettist. Josef studied it, feeling as he sailed toward freedom as if he weighed nothing at all, as if every precious burden had been lifted from him. ~ Michael Chabon,
1360:The River Chu cuts through the middle of heaven's gate,
The green water flowing east reaches here then swirls.
On either bank the blue hills face towards each other,
The flatness of a lonely sail comes from by of the sun.
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Visiting The Taoist Priest Dai Tianshan But Not Finding Him
A dog's bark amid the water's sound,
Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain.
Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer,
And at the stream I hear no noonday bell.
Wild bamboo divides the green mist,
A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak.
No-one knows the place to which he's gone,
Sadly, I lean on two or three pines.
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~ Li Bai, Viewing Heaven's Gate Mountains
,
1361:But perhaps the most poetical thing Pompeii has yielded to modern research, was that grand figure of a Roman soldier, clad in complete armor; who, true to his duty, true to his proud name of a soldier of Rome, and full of the stern courage which had given to that name its glory, stood to his post by the city gate, erect and unflinching, till the hell that raged around him burned out the dauntless spirit it could not conquer. We never read of Pompeii but we think of that soldier; we can not write of Pompeii without the natural impulse to grant to him the mention he so well deserves. Let us remember that he was a soldier--not a policeman --and so, praise him. Being a soldier, he staid,--because the warrior instinct forbade him to fly. Had he been a policeman he would have staid, also--because he would have been asleep. ~ Mark Twain,
1362:Our mission is to plant ourselves at the gates of Hope — not the prudent gates of Optimism, which are somewhat narrower; nor the stalwart, boring gates of Common Sense; nor the strident gates of Self-Righteousness, which creak on shrill and angry hinges (people cannot hear us there; they cannot pass through); nor the cheerful, flimsy garden gate of “Everything is gonna be all right.” But a different, sometimes lonely place, the place of truth-telling, about your own soul first of all and its condition, the place of resistance and defiance, the piece of ground from which you see the world both as it is and as it could be, as it will be; the place from which you glimpse not only struggle, but joy in the struggle. And we stand there, beckoning and calling, telling people what we are seeing, asking people what they see. ~ Paul Rogat Loeb,
1363:It comes out from no source, it goes back in through no aperture. It has reality yet no place where it resides; it has duration yet no beginning or end. Something emerges, though through no aperture - this refers to the fact that it has reality. It has reality yet there is no place where it resides - this refers to the dimension of space. It has duration but no beginning or end - this refers to the dimension of time. There is life, there is death, there is a coming out, there is a going back in - yet in the coming out and going back its form is never seen. This is called the Heavenly Gate. The Heavenly Gate is nonbeing. The ten thousand things come forth from nonbeing. Being cannot create being out of being; inevitably it must come forth from nonbeing. Nonbeing is absolute nonbeing, and it is here that the sage hides himself. ~ Zhuangzi,
1364:When American astronaut Neil Armstrong, a devout Christian, visited Israel after his trip to the moon, he was taken on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem by Israeli archaeologist Meir Ben-Dov. When they got to the Hulda Gate, which is at the top of the stairs leading to the Temple Mount, Armstrong asked Ben-Dov whether Jesus had stepped anywhere around there. “I told him, ‘Look, Jesus was a Jew,’” recalled Ben-Dov. “These are the steps that lead to the Temple, so he must have walked here many times.” Armstrong then asked if these were the original steps, and Ben-Dov confirmed that they were. “So Jesus stepped right here?” asked Armstrong again. “That’s right,” answered Ben-Dov. “I have to tell you,” Armstrong said to the Israeli archaeologist, “I am more excited stepping on these stones than I was stepping on the moon. ~ Thomas L Friedman,
1365:There was already a small queue for the tap in the corner of the field. Harry, Ron and Hermione joined it, right behind a pair of men who were having a heated argument. One of them was a very old wizard who was wearing a long flowery nightgown. The other was clearly a Ministry wizard; he was holding out a pair of pinstriped trousers and almost crying with exasperation. ‘Just put them on, Archie, there’s a good chap, you can’t walk around like that, the Muggle on the gate’s already getting suspicious –’ ‘I bought this in a Muggle shop,’ said the old wizard stubbornly. ‘Muggles wear them.’ ‘Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these,’ said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. ‘I’m not putting them on,’ said old Archie in indignation. ‘I like a healthy breeze round my privates, thanks. ~ J K Rowling,
1366:As we get ready to leave, Georgina announces that she wants to keep the kitten. But of course she can't. We walk up and down looking for its mother, calling for its siblings. But the nearby kraals are deserted, of both people and animals. And eventually we have to leave it at the gate of an empty kraal, the closest one to where it found us, hoping that this might be its home. As we start to drive away, the kitten totters down the dirt road after us, a furry ball of khaki with irregular black spots, and Georgina bursts into tears.

'Over the kitten? Really?' I ask, gesturing around the ruins of the torture base and the mass graves. 'With all of this?'

'No,' she sniffs. 'It's not just the kitten. It's everyone here. They've all been abandoned. No one gives a **** about what happened to them. They're completely alone. ~ Peter Godwin,
1367:[Once Ummon asked a lesser light Are you a gardener> Yes it replied Why have turnips no roots> Ummon asked the gardener who could not reply Because said Ummon rainwater is plentiful] I think about this for a moment. Ummon’s koan is not difficult now that I am regaining the knack of listening for the shadow of substance beneath the words. The little Zen parable is Ummon’s way of saying, with some sarcasm, that the answer lies within science and within the antilogic which scientific answers so often provide. The rainwater comment answers everything and nothing, as so much of science has for so long. As Ummon and the other Masters teach, it explains why the giraffe evolved a long neck but never why the other animals did not. It explains why humankind evolved to intelligence, but not why the tree near the front gate refused to. ~ Dan Simmons,
1368:Sugar had grown up in Charleston, South Carolina: possibly the most luscious of the world's garden cities. Behind every wrought-iron gate or exposed-brick wall in the picturesque peninsula blooming between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers lay a sweet-scented treasure trove of camellias, roses, gardenias, magnolias, tea olives, azaleas and jasmine, everywhere, jasmine.
With its lush greenery, opulent vines, sumptuous hedgerows and candy-colored window boxes, it was no wonder the city's native sons and daughters believed it to be the most beautiful place on earth.
In her first years of exile Sugar had tried to cultivate a reminder of the luxuriant garden delights she had left behind, struggling in sometimes hostile elements to train reluctant honeysuckle and sulky sweet potato vines or nurture creeping jenny and autumn stonecrop. ~ Sarah Kate Lynch,
1369:The Jew refers to Shavuot as Atzeret (i.e. holding back, refraining) because after the Counting of the Omer, the festival of Passover gets linked to that of the Holdover (i.e. Pentecost). However, Pentecost in Roman Christianity signals the coming of the Holy Spirit 40 days after Easter. To the Jew, the Counting of the Omer, which starts the day after Passover, symbolizes the Exodus and the freedom from 49 gates of his impurities and falling -in the same incarnation- on the 50th gate is irreversible where soul correction becomes impossible. What is astonishing about all this is that all of these details are graphically expressed -according to the ancient Egyptian decanic Calendar- on the circular zodiac of Dendera where the symbol of the Pig anchors the 50th gate which the Pharaonic spirit of the Jew is trying to evade at all costs. ~ Ibrahim Ibrahim,
1370:The Path To Home
THERE'S the mother at the doorway, and the children at the gate,
And the little parlor windows with the curtains white and straight.
There are shaggy asters blooming in the bed that lines the fence,
And the simplest of the blossoms seems of mighty consequence.
Oh, there isn't any mansion underneath God's starry dome
That can rest a weary pilgrim like the little place called home.
Men have sought for gold and silver; men have dreamed at night of fame;
In the heat of youth they've struggled for achievement's honored name;
But the selfish crowns are tinsel, and their shining jewels paste,
And the wine of pomp and glory soon grows bitter to the taste.
For there's never any laughter howsoever far you roam,
Like the laughter of the loved ones in the happiness of home.
~ Edgar Albert Guest,
1371:At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our son-ship. It is like a pure diamond blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it, we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely. I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is everywhere.3 ~ Cynthia Bourgeault,
1372:First days of Spring-the sky
is bright blue, the sun huge and warm.
Everything's turning green.
Carrying my monk's bowl, I walk to the village
to beg for my daily meal.
The children spot me at the temple gate
and happily crowd around,
dragging to my arms till I stop.
I put my bowl on a white rock,
hang my bag on a branch.
First we braid grasses and play tug-of-war,
then we take turns singing and keeping a kick-ball in the air:
I kick the ball and they sing, they kick and I sing.
Time is forgotten, the hours fly.
People passing by point at me and laugh:
"Why are you acting like such a fool?"
I nod my head and don't answer.
I could say something, but why?
Do you want to know what's in my heart?
From the beginning of time: just this! just this!

~ Taigu Ryokan, First Days Of Spring - The sky
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1373:A King Inside Who Listens

There are many people with their eyes open
whose hearts are shut. What do they see?
Matter.

But someone whose love is alert,
even if the eyes go to sleep,
he or she will be waking up thousands of others.

If you are not one of those light-filled lovers,
restrain your desire-body's intensity.
Put limits on how much you eat
and how long you lie down.

But if you are awake here in the chest,
sleep long and soundly.

Your spirit will be out roaming and working,
even on the seventh level.

Muhammad says, I close my eyes and rest in sleep,
but my love never needs rest.

The guard at the gate drowses.
The king stays awake.

You have a king inside who listens
for what delights the soul.

That king's wakefulness
cannot be described in a poem. ~ Rumi,
1374:Hermione had taken his hand again and was gripping it tightly. He could not look at her, but returned the pressure, now taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. He should have brought something to give them, and he had not thought of it, and every plant in the graveyard was leafless and frozen. But Hermione raised her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. Harry caught it and laid it on his parent's grave.
As soon as he stood up he wanted to leave: He did not think he could stand another moment there. He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she put hers around his waist, and they turned in silence and walked away through the snow, past Dumbledore's mother and sister, back toward the dark church and the out-of-sight kissing gate. ~ J K Rowling,
1375:Professor Slughorn,” wheezed Filch, his jowls aquiver and the maniacal light of mischief-detection in his bulging eyes, “I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?” Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch’s grip, looking furious. “All right, I wasn’t invited!” he said angrily. “I was trying to gate-crash, happy?” “No, I’m not!” said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. “You’re in trouble, you are! Didn’t the headmaster say that nighttime prowling’s out, unless you’ve got permission, didn’t he, eh?” “That’s all right, Argus, that’s all right,” said Slughorn, waving a hand. “It’s Christmas, and it’s not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we’ll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco. ~ J K Rowling,
1376:On the ninth day of the festival, Abram and Mikael positioned themselves to watch the grand parade of the gods. It proceeded down the Processional Way from Esagila all the way past the temple of Ishtar in the north of the city. A large flock of white doves, the bird of the goddess, was released from Ishtar’s temple as they passed, creating a spectacle of peaceful liberation. The parade continued out through the vainglorious Ishtar Gate on to another temple by the river, where they held a banquet of the gods. This was the most public of events. Throngs of people crowded the lanes of the Processional Way, trying to get a glimpse of the gods in their glorious chariots covered with dazzling jewels. Cultic musicians, dancers, and singers accompanied the parade through the city. Priests, royalty and visiting dignitaries received front row seats to the spectacle. ~ Brian Godawa,
1377:Not long since, a strolling Indian went to sell baskets at the house of a well-known lawyer in my neighborhood. “Do you wish to buy any baskets?” he asked. “No, we do not want any,” was the reply. “What!” exclaimed the Indian as he went out the gate, “do you mean to starve us?” Having seen his industrious white neighbors so well off—that the lawyer had only to weave arguments, and, by some magic, wealth and standing followed—he had said to himself: I will go into business; I will weave baskets; it is a thing which I can do. Thinking that when he had made the baskets he would have done his part, and then it would be the white man’s to buy them. He had not discovered that it was necessary for him to make it worth the other’s while to buy them, or at least make him think that it was so, or to make something else which it would be worth his while to buy. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
1378:On the banks of the Euphrates find a secret garden cunningly walled. There is an entrance, but the entrance is guarded. There is no way in for you. Inside you will find every plant that grows growing circular-wise like a target. Close to the heart is a sundial and at the heart an orange tree. This fruit has tripped up athletes while others have healed their wounds. All true quests end in this garden, where the split fruit pours forth blood and the halved fruit is a full bowl for travelers and pilgrims. To eat of the fruits means to leave the garden because the fruit speaks of other things, other longings. So at dusk you leave the place you love, not knowing if you can ever return, knowing you can never return by the same way as this. It may be, some other day, that you will open the gate by chance, and find yourself again on the other side of the wall. ~ Jeanette Winterson,
1379:The Truth the Dead Know"

For my Mother, born March 1902, died March 1959
and my Father, born February 1900, died June 1959

Gone, I say and walk from church,
refusing the stiff procession to the grave,
letting the dead ride alone in the hearse.
It is June. I am tired of being brave.

We drive to the Cape. I cultivate
myself where the sun gutters from the sky,
where the sea swings in like an iron gate
and we touch. In another country people die.

My darling, the wind falls in like stones
from the whitehearted water and when we touch
we enter touch entirely. No one's alone.
Men kill for this, or for as much.

And what of the dead? They lie without shoes
in their stone boats. They are more like stone
than the sea would be if it stopped. They refuse
to be blessed, throat, eye and knucklebone. ~ Anne Sexton,
1380:As Pliable and Christian find themselves walking together toward the narrow gate, we see the stark contrast between the two pilgrims. One is burdened; the other is not. One is clutching a book that is a light to his path. The other is guideless. One is on the journey in pursuit of deliverance from besetting sins and rest for his soul. The other is on the journey in order to obtain future delights that temporarily dazzle his mind. One is slow and plodding because of his great weight and a sense of his own unrighteousness; the other is light-footed and impatient to obtain all the benefits of Heaven. One is in motion because his soul has been stirred up to both fear and hope; the other is dead to any spiritual fears,
longings, or aspirations. One is seeking God; the other is seeking self-satisfaction. One is a true pilgrim; the other is false and fading.
15. ~ John Bunyan,
1381:Lord Gareth leaned close to her ear. "Nervous, Miss Paige?" he teased. She willed her pounding heart to be calm, fought the feeling of foreboding that was squeezing her chest, wished she had a weapon with which to brain Chilcot, who was hopping around on one foot, miming shackles and giggling like the idiot he was. "In truth, my lord, yes. But I'm sure we'll both be happier after the deed is done." "You sound as though the idea does not appeal to you." She watched Cokeham open the iron gate and swagger up to the vicarage, banging the knocker sharply and turning to laugh at Chilcot's foolishness. "I'm sorry. It's just that ..." That you're nothing like Charles, and he's the sort of man I should be marrying, not you. "That what, Miss Paige? Do you find me wanting in some way, shape, or form?" "No, Lord Gareth. It's nothing. Just bridal jitters, that is all." And ~ Danelle Harmon,
1382:Wha Is That At My Bower-Door
1783

Wha is that at my bower-door?
O wha is it but Findlay!
Then gae your gate, ye'se nae be here:
Indeed maun I, quo' Findlay;
What mak' ye, sae like a thief?
O come and see, quo' Findlay;
Before the morn ye'll work mischief:
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.

Gif I rise and let you in-
Let me in, quo' Findlay;
Ye'll keep me waukin wi' your din;"
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay;
In my bower if ye should stay-
Let me stay, quo' Findlay;
I fear ye'll bide till break o' day;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
Here this night if ye remain-
I'll remain, quo' Findlay;
I dread ye'll learn the gate again;
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay.
What may pass within this bower-
Let it pass, quo' Findlay;
Ye maun conceal till your last hour:
Indeed will I, quo' Findlay. ~ Robert Burns,
1383:Christian meets two more ill-fated pilgrims as he continues his expedition down the King's Highway. His ability to discern a false pilgrim has been advanced since his experience with Simple, Sloth, and Presumption.
Christian immediately focuses on three things that seem out of place. First, the tumbling over the wall called Salvation without coming through Christ, the narrow gate, or experiencing any illumination by the Holy Spirit immediately warns Christian that these are trespassers. Second, their testimony of having come from the land of Vain-Glory warns Christian that they are neither humble nor burdened by sin. Third, their wish to arrive at Mt. Zion to receive praise rather than to give praise to the only one worthy of praise alarms Christian. Christian quickly discerns that the motives of Formalist and Hypocrisy are unworthy and contemptuous.
Formalist ~ John Bunyan,
1384:He stopped the flyers
And by his rare example made the coward
Turn terror into sport. As weeds before
A vessel under sail, so men obeyed
And fell below his stem. His sword, Death's stamp,
Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot
He was a thing of blood, whose every motion
Was timed with dying cries. Alone he entered
The mortal gate o' th' city, which he painted
With shunless destiny; aidless came off
And with a sudden reinforcement struck
Corioles like a planet. Now all's his,
When by and by the dim of war gan pierce
His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit
Requickened what in flesh was fatigate,
And to the battle came he, where he did
Run reeking o'er the lives of men as if
'Twere a perpetual spoil; and till we called
Both field and city ours, he never stood
To ease his breast with panting. ~ William Shakespeare,
1385:Nocturne
The earth, still heavy and warm with afternoon,
Dazed by the moon:
The earth, tormented with the moon’s light,
Wandering in the night:
La, La, The moon is a lovely thing to see—
The moon is an agony.
Full moon, moon rise, the old old pain
Of brightness in dilated eyes,
The ache of still
Elbows leaning on the narrow sill,
Of motionless cold hands upon the wet
Marble of the parapet,
Of open eyelids of a child behind
The crooked glimmer of the windown blind,
Of sliding faint remindful squares
Across the lamplight on the rocking-chairs:
Why do we stand so late
Stiff fingers on the moonlit gate?
Why do we stand
To watch so long the fall of moonlight on the sand?
What is it we cannot recall?
Tormented by the moon’s light
The earth turns maundering through the night.
~ Archibald MacLeish,
1386:The hill between the manor and forest displayed layers of Lady Croft's prized gardens. Paved pathways wove through a formal Italian garden, rose garden, water garden, lily pond, and a tulip garden built around Roman ruins.
Maggie stood beside a statue of the goddess Hemera and a row of yew bushes that had been neatly pruned into a wall to form the perimeter of the Croft family maze. Walter sat nearby on a picnic blanket as she scanned the hillside above the maze to see if she could find Libby's copper-streaked hair among the immaculate gardens and all the people dressed in their finest for this entree into Ladenbrooke's gardens.
The Croft family opened the front gate to the public once each summer. Hundreds of people from around the Cotswolds came to peruse Lady Croft's magnificent displays- the golden heather, purple dahlias, peach lilies floating on the pond. ~ Melanie Dobson,
1387:Other mages have an odd attitude towards diviners. By the standards of, say, elemental mages. We can't gate, we can't attack, we can't shield, and when it comes to physical action our magic is about as useful as a bicycle in a trampolining contest. But we can see anywhere and learn anything and there's no secret we can't uncover if we try hard enough. So when an elemental mage looks at a diviner, the elemental mage knows he could take him in a straight fight with no more effort that it would take to tie his shoes. On the other hand, the elemental mage also knows that the diviner could find out every one of his most dirty and embarrassing secrets and, should hi feel like it, post copies of them to everyone the elemental mage has ever met. It creates a mixture of uneasiness and contempt that doesn't encourage warm feelings. There's a reason most of my friends aren't mages. ~ Benedict Jacka,
1388:The park is high. And as out of a house
I step out of its glimmering half-light
into openness and evening. Into the wind,
the same wind that the clouds feel,
the bright rivers and the turning mills
that stand slowly grinding at the sky's edge.
Now I too am a thing held in its hand,
the smallest thing under the sky. --Look:

Is that one sky?:
Blissfully lucid blue,
into which ever purer clouds throng,
and under it all white in endless changes,
and over it that huge, thin-spun gray,
pulsing warmly as on red underpaint,
and over everything this silent radiance
of a setting sun.

Miraculous structure,
moved within itself and upheld by itself,
shaping figures, giant wings, faults
and high mountain ridges before the first star
and suddenly, there: a gate into such
distances as perhaps only birds know... ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
1389:We all accepted that this land was a gate to that other world, the realm of spirits and dreams and the Fair Folk, without any question. The place we grew up in was so full of magic that it was almost a part of everyday life - not to say you'd meet one of them every time you went out to pick berries, or draw water from your well, but everyone we knew had a friend of a friend who'd strayed too far into the forest, and disappeared; or ventured inside a ring of mushrooms, and gone away for a while, and come back subtly changed. Strange things could happen in those places. Gone for maybe fifty years you could be, and come back still a young girl; or away for no more than an instant by moral reckoning, and return wrinkled and bent with age. These tales fascinated us, but failed to make us careful. If it was going to happen to you, it would happen, whether you liked it or not. ~ Juliet Marillier,
1390:The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy says that if you hold a lungful of air you can survive in the total vacuum of space for about thirty seconds. However, it does go on to say that what with space being the mind-boggling size it is the chances of getting picked up by another ship within those thirty seconds are two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand, seven hundred and nine to one against. By a totally staggering coincidence, that is also the telephone number of an Islington flat where Arthur once went to a very good party and met a very nice girl whom he totally failed to get off with—she went off with a gate-crasher. Though the planet Earth, the Islington flat and the telephone have all now been demolished, it is comforting to reflect that they are all in some small way commemorated by the fact that twenty-nine seconds later Ford and Arthur were rescued. ~ Douglas Adams,
1391:Warned
They stood at the garden gate.
By the lifting of a lid
She might have read her fate
In a little thing he did.
He plucked a beautiful flower,
Tore it away from its place
On the side of the blooming bower,
And held it against his face.
Drank in its beauty and bloom,
In the midst of his idle talk;
Then cast it down to the gloom
And dust of the garden walk.
Ay, trod it under his foot,
As it lay in his pathway there;
Then spurned it away with his boot,
Because it had ceased to be fair.
Ah! the maiden might have read
The doom of her young life then;
But she looked in his eyes instead,
And thought him the king of men.
She
She
And
And
looked in his eyes and blushed,
hid in his strong arms' fold;
the tale of the flower, crushed
spurned, was once more told.
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
1392:Am I staring? Forgive me. It's only that I adore the way you laugh."
Pandora blushed up to her hairline. She went to the nearest target and began to jerk out arrows. "Please don't compliment me."
Gabriel went to the next target. "You don't like compliments?"
"No, they make me feel awkward. They never seem true."
"Perhaps they don't seem true to you, but that doesn't mean they're not." After sliding his arrows into a leather quiver, Gabriel came to help collect hers.
"In this case," Pandora said, "it's definitely not true. My laugh sounds like a serenading tree frog swinging on a rusty gate."
Gabriel smiled. "Like silver wind chimes in a summer breeze."
"That's not at all how it sounds," Pandora scoffed.
"But thats how it makes me feel." The intimate note in his voice seemed to vibrate along the network of fine, taut nerves strung all through her. ~ Lisa Kleypas,
1393:Woman and children behind the lines!' he yelled, and all the girls jumped. Henry froze with his mouth open. 'Bang the drum slowly and ask not for whom the bell's ringing, for the answer's unfriendly!' He threw a fist in the air. 'Two years have my black ships sat before Troy, and today its gate shall open before the strength of my arm.' Dotty was laughing from the kitchen. Frank looked at his nephew. 'Henry, we play baseball tomorrow. Today we sack cities. Dots! Fetch me my tools! Down with the French! Once more into the breach, and fill the wall with our coward dead! Half a league! Half a league! Hey, batter, batter!'
Frank brought his fist down onto the table, spilling Anastasia's milk, and then he struck a pose with both arms above his head and his chin on his chest. The girls cheered and applauded. Aunt Dotty stepped back into the dining room carrying a red metal toolbox. ~ N D Wilson,
1394:Should the old federal broadcast rules have been abolished? Maybe, maybe not, but in any case, cable TV was making them iffy and the Internet was just about to start rendering them moot. In any case, when the Washington gatekeepers decided to get rid of that regulatory gate, it was a pivotal moment, practically and symbolically. For most of the twentieth century, national news media had felt obliged to pursue and present some rough approximation of the truth rather than to promote a truth, let alone fictions. With the elimination of the Fairness Doctrine, a new American laissez-faire had been officially declared. If lots more incorrect and preposterous assertions circulated in our most massive mass media, that was a price of freedom. If splenetic commentators could now, as never before, keep believers perpetually riled up and feeling the excitement of being in a mob, so be it. ~ Kurt Andersen,
1395:First Party At Ken Kesey's With Hell's Angels
Cool black night thru redwoods
cars parked outside in shade
behind the gate, stars dim above
the ravine, a fire burning by the side
porch and a few tired souls hunched over
in black leather jackets. In the huge
wooden house, a yellow chandelier
at 3 A.M. the blast of loudspeakers
hi-fi Rolling Stones Ray Charles Beatles
Jumping Joe Jackson and twenty youths
dancing to the vibration thru the floor,
a little weed in the bathroom, girls in scarlet
tights, one muscular smooth skinned man
sweating dancing for hours, beer cans
bent littering the yard, a hanged man
sculpture dangling from a high creek branch,
children sleeping softly in their bedroom bunks.
And 4 police cars parked outside the painted
gate, red lights revolving in the leaves.
December 1965
~ Allen Ginsberg,
1396:At last I could see. “Jesus’s submission to our hostile rejection of him was his way into our . . .” “Flesh,” the apostle finished. “The great darkness. Sarx! Where Ophis had his hold,” he shouted, lifting his hands and jumping to his feet. “Oh! Lord Jesus, yes! Amen! Union with us in our sin!” I thought his heart would burst in joy, as he let out a mighty sigh of relief. I think he believed he had lost me at this critical moment. He drew in a deep breath, then stared dramatically into my heart. “Listen carefully. The Son in whom all things are, who dwells face-to-face with Abba in Ruach HaKodesh, now dwells face-to-face with Adam’s race inside Ophis’s madness. Heaven’s gate,” he called out, raising his hands in worship. “The great ‘I Am’ inside the violent world of ‘I am not.’ All will see! This I know. In that day you will know that I am in My Father, you in Me, and I in you. ~ C Baxter Kruger,
1397:Helaman 3:27   27  Thus we may see that the Lord is merciful unto all who will, in the sincerity of their hearts, call upon his holy name. Helaman 3:28   28  Yea, thus we see that the gate of heaven is open unto all, even to those who will believe on the name of Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God. Helaman 3:29   29  Yea, we see that whosoever will may lay hold upon the word of God, which is quick and powerful, which shall divide asunder all the cunning and the snares and the wiles of the devil, and lead the man of Christ in a strait and narrow course across that everlasting gulf of misery which is prepared to engulf the wicked— Helaman 3:30   30  And land their souls, yea, their immortal souls, at the right hand of God in the kingdom of heaven, to sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and with Jacob, and with all our holy fathers, to go no more out. ~ The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints,
1398:A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. ~ James Joyce,
1399:He had a sure destination. New York. But not just because Magistrate Nathaniel Powers was there. It was also because the almshouse was there, and Headmaster Eben Ausley. Matthew recalled what that insidious, child-brutalizing villain had said to him, five years ago: Consider that your education concerning the real world has been furthered. Be of excellent service to the magistrate, be of good cheer and good will, and live a long and happy life. And never—never—plot a war you have no hope of winning. Well, Matthew mused, perhaps the boy of five years ago could neither plot a war nor win it. But the man of today might find a method to end Ausley’s reign of terror. It was worth putting one’s thoughts to, wasn’t it? Matthew stared for a moment at the closed gate, beyond which lay both an ending and a beginning. Then he turned his mount, his face, and his mind toward the century of wonders. ~ Anonymous,
1400:Finally Bill Mixter would lower his head, lay his bow upon the strings, and draw out the first notes of a tune, and the others would come in behind him. The music, while it lasted, brought a new world into being. They would play some tunes they had learned on the radio, but their knowledge was far older than that and they played too the music that was native to the place, or that the people of the place were native to. Just the names of the tunes were a kind of music; they cal l back the music to my mind still, after so many years: "Sand Riffle," "Last Gold Dollar," "Billy in the Low Ground," "Gate to Go Through," and a lot of others. "A fiddle, now, is an atmospheric thing," said Burley Coulter. The music was another element filling the room and pouring out through the cracks. When at last they'd had their fill and had gone away, the shop felt empty, the silence larger than before. ~ Wendell Berry,
1401:I wanted him dead too, so that if I couldn’t stop thinking about him and worrying about when would be the next time I’d see him, at least his death would put an end to it. I wanted to kill him myself, even, so as to let him know how much his mere existence had come to bother me, how unbearable his ease with everything and everyone, taking all things in stride, his tireless I’m-okay-with-this-and-that, his springing across the gate to the beach when everyone else opened the latch first, to say nothing of his bathing suits, his spot in paradise, his cheeky Later!, his lip-smacking love for apricot juice. If I didn’t kill him, then I’d cripple him for life, so that he’d be with us in a wheelchair and never go back to the States. If he were in a wheelchair, I would always know where he was, and he’d be easy to find. I would feel superior to him and become his master, now that he was crippled. ~ Andr Aciman,
1402:The road climbed higher into the mountains of Nikko National Park, the terraced farm fields giving way grudgingly to forests of tiny trees that seemed to be trimmed, the growth around them carefully cultivated. From a narrow defile the car was passed through a massive wooden gate that swung on a huge arch ornately carved with the figures of fierce dragons. From there a perfectly maintained road of crushed white gravel led up the valley to a broad forested ledge through which a narrow stream bubbled and plunged over the sheer edge. The view from the top was breathtaking. Perched on the far
edge was a traditionally styled Japanese house, low to the ground and rambling in every direction. Tiled roofs, rice-paper screens and walls, carved beams, courtyards, broad verandas, gardens, ponds, and ancient statues and figures gave the spot an unreal air, as if it were a setting in a fairy tale ~ David Hagberg,
1403:Two Women
I know two women, and one is chaste
And cold as the snows on a winters waste,
Stainless ever I act and thought
(As a man, born dumb, in speech errs not) .
But she has malice toward her kind,
A cruel tongue and a jealous mind.
Void of pity and full of greed,
She judges the world by her narrow creed;
A brewer of quarrels, a breeder of hate,
Yet she holds the key to ‘Society’s’ Gate.
The other woman, with heart of flame,
Went mad for a love that marred her name:
And out of the grave of her murdered faith
She rose like a soul that has passed through death.
Her aims are noble, her pity so broad,
It covers the world like the mercy of God.
A soother of discord, a healer of woes,
Peace follows her footsteps wherever she goes.
The worthier life of the two, no doubt,
And yet ‘Society’ locks her out.
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
1404:But the engine started, eventually, after a bunch of popping and churning, and then it idled, wet and lumpy. The transmission was slower than the postal service. She rattled the selector into reverse, and all the mechanical parts inside called the roll and counted a quorum and set about deciding what to do. Which required a lengthy debate, apparently, because it was whole seconds before the truck lurched backward. She turned the wheel, which looked like hard work, and then she jammed the selector into a forward gear, and first of all the reversing committee wound up its business and approved its minutes and exited the room, and then the forward crew signed on and got comfortable, and a motion was tabled and seconded and discussed. More whole seconds passed, and then the truck slouched forward, slow and stuttering at first, before picking up its pace and rolling implacably toward the exit gate. ~ Lee Child,
1405:Eschatology
<i>for Richard Exner</i>
Mind
dwells on apocalypse,
the body digs
the shutting of a gate,
the turning of a sod, a page
once done is
done, a work complete
the change,
the travelling
come down to this,
the great circle of days,
recurrence of the simplest things.
Between two slabs
I dig a wine-cellar,
floor it with brick,
wall it
with brick and board
soon I will stock it, build
a new shed over it,
soon
the eggplants will rise, tomatoes
push up behind the basil,
and my child will be walking.
You write from California
astonished at my faith in Things
What can I say?
There is a place, a border
where chill leaves the words,
where even the fire leaves
and all that is said becomes hopeless.
Deeper still
there is a place where it begins again.
~ David Brooks,
1406:In the first big meadow beyond Freemon’s, I see Camp Papoose has been established, and it is filled with beautiful, dirty, exhausted women and men. I read this morning that by tonight there will be 895 firefighters in town, which is more people than live in this county. And here are a whole mess of them, our literal heroes, sitting in folding chairs outside of tents, eating cans of whatever with plastic forks, half-melted boots still on, suspenders loosened, charcoal-scarred arms coming out of filthy T-shirts, deep fatigue visible through the ash-exaggerated lines on their faces. I thought the sight of the burnt forest would make me cry, but in fact it’s the sight of these off-duty saviors that bring tears. I’ll go home, I think, and make the biggest sign imaginable and hang it on the front gate. THANK YOU FIREFIGHTERS! WE  YOU! There’s nothing that undoes me like the possibility of rescue. ~ Pam Houston,
1407:At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is so to speak His name written in us, as our poverty, as our indigence, as our dependence, as our sonship. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely ... I have no program for this seeing. It is only given. But the gate of heaven is every- where. ~ Thomas Merton,
1408:What do you know of the Knights?” he asked.

Fin shrugged. “I thought knights were only in children’s stories until a few days ago.”

Jeannot smiled. “A man could do worse than to live in the stories of a child. There is, perhaps, no better remembrance.”

“Until the child grows up and finds out the stories aren’t true. You might be knights, but I don’t see any shining armor,” Fin said.

Jeannot stopped near the gate of the auberge and faced her. “Each time a story is told, the details and accuracies and facts are winnowed away until all that remains is the heart of the tale. If there is truth at the heart of it, a tale may live forever. As a knight, there is no dragon to slay, no maiden to rescue, and no miraculous grail to uncover. A knight seeks the truth beneath these things, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us. The race we must run. ~ A S Peterson,
1409:For The One Who Would Not Take His Life In His
Hands
Athlete, virtuoso,
Training for happiness,
Bend arm and knee, and seek
The body's sharp distress,
For pain is pleasure's cost,
Denial is route
To speech before the millions
Or personal with the flute.
The ape and great Achilles,
Heavy with their fate,
Batter doors down, strike
Small children at the gate,
Driven by love to this,
As knock-kneed Hegel said,
To seek with a sword their peace,
That the child may be taken away
From the hurly-burly and fed.
Ladies and Gentlemen, said
The curious Socrates,
I have asked, What is this life
But a childermass,
As Abraham recognized,
A working with the knife
At animal, maid and stone
Until we have cut down
All but the soul alone:
Through hate we guard our love,
And its distinction's known.
~ Delmore Schwartz,
1410:Even the beauteous must die! This vanquishes men and immortals;
But of the Stygian god moves not the bosom of steel.
Once and once only could love prevail on the ruler of shadows,
And on the threshold, e'en then, sternly his gift he recalled.
Venus could never heal the wounds of the beauteous stripling,
That the terrible boar made in his delicate skin;
Nor could his mother immortal preserve the hero so godlike,
When at the west gate of Troy, falling, his fate he fulfilled.
But she arose from the ocean with all the daughters of Nereus,
And o'er her glorified son raised the loud accents of woe.
See! where all the gods and goddesses yonder are weeping,
That the beauteous must fade, and that the perfect must die.
Even a woe-song to be in the mouth of the loved ones is glorious,
For what is vulgar descends mutely to Orcus' dark shades.

~ Friedrich Schiller, Naenia
,
1411:At its root, The Crucible is such a terrifying and illuminating piece of work not because it involves witches and because witches do not exist, but because it depicts the gradual victory of delirium over reason and of passion over truth. In the heat of a hysterical moment, a putatively civilized community elects to abandon the vital traditions that have been slowly built up over centuries and to hand over its institutions to the transient anxieties of an unruly and jealous mob. 'It were better that ten suspected witches should escape than one innocent person be condemned,' warned Increase Mather, a critic of the trials. 'Not on your life,' replied the crowd; for we have some evils to spike. Free expression? Damn you to hell. Presumption of innocence? Hie thee to a monastery. All that we have held dear? Abandon it now, for there are monsters at the gate, and they need to be destroyed post haste. ~ Charles C W Cooke,
1412:Every Sunday we gather in a multimillion-dollar building with millions of dollars in vehicles parked outside. We leave worship to spend thousands of dollars on lunch before returning to hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of homes. We live in luxury. Meanwhile the poor man is outside our gate. And he is hungry. In the time we gather for worship on a Sunday morning almost a thousand children elsewhere die because they have no food. If it were our kids starving, they would all be gone by the time we said our closing prayer. We certainly wouldn't ignore our kids while we sang songs and entertained ourselves, but we are content with ignoring other parents' kids. Many of them are our spiritual brothers and sisters in developing nations. They are suffering from malnutrition, deformed bodies and brains, and preventable diseases. At most, we are throwing our scraps to them while we indulge in our pleasures here. ~ David Platt,
1413:Take an instance: the removal of the motto [In God We Trust] fetched out a clamor from the pulpit; little groups and small conventions of clergymen gathered themselves together all over the country, and one of these little groups, consisting of twenty-two ministers, put up a prodigious assertion unbacked by any quoted statistics and passed it unanimously in the form of a resolution: the assertion, to wit, that this is a Christian country. Why, Carnegie, so is hell. Those clergymen know that, inasmuch as "Strait is the way and narrow is the gate, and few — few — are they that enter in thereat" has had the natural effect of making hell the only really prominent Christian community in any of the worlds; but we don't brag of this and certainly it is not proper to brag and boast that America is a Christian country when we all know that certainly five-sixths of our population could not enter in at the narrow gate. ~ Mark Twain,
1414:Occasionally the poster pictures a pair of cyclists; and then one grasps the fact how much superior for purposes of flirtation is the modern bicycle to the old-fashioned parlour or the played-out garden gate. He and she mount their bicycles, being careful, of course, that such are of the right make. After that they have nothing to think about but the old sweet tale. Down shady lanes, through busy towns on market days, merrily roll the wheels of the “Bermondsey Company’s Bottom Bracket Britain’s Best,” or of the “Camberwell Company’s Jointless Eureka.” They need no pedalling; they require no guiding. Give them their heads, and tell them what time you want to get home, and that is all they ask. While Edwin leans from his saddle to whisper the dear old nothings in Angelina’s ear, while Angelina’s face, to hide its blushes, is turned towards the horizon at the back, the magic bicycles pursue their even course. ~ Jerome K Jerome,
1415:I had grown up in a house with a fence around it, and in this fence was a white smooth wooden gate, two holes bored round and low together so the dog could see through. One night, the moon high, late for me home from the school dance, I remember that I stopped, hand on the gate, and spoke so quietly to myself and to the woman that I would love that not even the dog could have heard.

I don’t know where you are, but you’re living right now, somewhere on this earth. And one day you and I are going to touch this gate where I’m touching it now. Your hand will touch this very wood, here! Then we’ll walk through and we’ll be full of a future and of a past and we’ll be to each other like no one else has ever been. We can’t meet now, I don’t know why. But some day our questions will be answers and we’ll be caught in something so bright...and every step I take is one step closer on a bridge we must cross to meet. ~ Richard Bach,
1416:Human beings have evolved to be extremely good at identifying other individual humans. The race's survival depends on it. A guard lets the wrong person through the gate, and a whole settlement is wiped out. There are a million ways to tell two human beings apart. Not just appearance, either. Gait, odor, pheromones, speech patterns, dialect, nervous habits... even the way people breathe. Even parents of identical twins have little difficulty telling them apart, despite the fact that they are genetically identical and were raised in exactly the same environment, because of tiny differences in appearance and behavior that accrue as the result of differing experiences. The ability of one human to recognize another by appearance is especially acute when it comes to heterosexual males observing nubile females. There is nothing on Earth men pay more attention to than the appearance of sexually attractive young women. ~ Robert Kroese,
1417:A boy trudged down the sidewalk dragging a fishing pole behind him. A man stood waiting with his hands on his hips. Summertime, and his children played in the front yard with their friend, enacting a strange little drama of their own invention. It was fall, and his children fought on the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Dubose's. . . . Fall, and his children trotted to and fro around the corner, the day's woes and triumphs on their faces. They stopped at an oak tree, delighted, puzzled, apprehensive. Winter, and his children shivered at the front gate, silhouetted against a blazing house. Winter, and a man walked into the street, dropped his glasses, and shot a dog. Summer, and he watched his children's heart break. Autumn again, and Boo's children needed him. Atticus was right. One time he said you never really know a man until you stand in his shoes and walk around in them. Just standing on the Radley porch was enough. ~ Harper Lee,
1418:I stood still an hour or thereabouts without trespassing on our orders (for so long the caravan was in passing the gate), to look at it on every side, near and far off; I mean what was within my view: and the guide, who had been extolling it for the wonder of the world, was mighty eager to hear my opinion of it. I told him it was a most excellent thing to keep out the Tartars; which he happened not to understand as I meant it and so took it for a compliment; but the old pilot laughed! "Oh, Seignior Inglese," says he, "you speak in colours."

"In colours!" said I; "what do you mean by that?"

"Why, you speak what looks white this way and black that way - gay one way and dull another. You tell him it is a good wall to keep out Tartars; you tell me by that it is good for nothing but to keep out Tartars. I understand you, Seignior Inglese, I understand you; but Seignior Chinese understood you his own way. ~ Daniel Defoe,
1419:Another hour it would come streaming through the Golden Gate to shroud the romantic city in white, and a young man would hold his girl by the hand and climb slowly up a long white sidewalk with a bottle of Tokay in his pocket. That was Frisco; and beautiful women standing in white doorways, waiting for their men; and Coit Tower, and the Embarcadero, and Market Street, and the eleven teeming hills.
I spun around till I was dizzy; I thought I'd fall down as in a dream, clear off the precipice. Oh where is the girl I love? I thought, and looked everywhere, as I had looked everywhere in the little world below. And before me was the great raw bulge and bulk of my American continent; somewhere far across, gloomy, crazy New York was throwing up its cloud of dust and brown steam. There is something brown and holy about the East; and California is white like washlines and emptyheaded -- at least that's what I thought then. ~ Jack Kerouac,
1420:Love potions? For Will 'erondale? 'Tain't my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you 'as got no need of love potions, and that's a fact."

"No," Will said, a little desperation in his voice. "I was looking for the opposite, really -- something that might put an end to being in love."

"An 'atred potion?" Mol still sounded amused.

"I was hoping for something more akin to indifference? Tolerance?"

She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. "I 'ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to 'ate you, there's easy enough ways of making it 'appen. You don't need my help with the poor thing."

And with that she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. "Not for her," he said under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, "for me..." And he leaned his head against the cold iron gate. ~ Cassandra Clare,
1421:You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we’ll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I’ll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea. ~ E E Cummings,
1422:Oooo, what is that?” Red yelled when she saw the palace. “That’s Buckingham Palace,” Alex said. “It’s where the monarchy resides.” Red was mesmerized. “What a stylish and tasteful place! Look at that beautiful statue out front of it in the middle of the street! That looks exactly like the statue I wanted to build in celebration of Charlie’s and my wedding!” Red left the others and flew down to the gate. She peered through the bars at the palace in delight. She had to hang on to the bars tightly because the fairy dust was making her drift back to the sky. One of the palace guards on duty saw Red and stared at her in disbelief. It wasn’t every day he saw a floating woman at the gate. “Yoo-hoo!” Red called to him. “I just love your hat! Please tell the current monarch that Queen Red of the Center Kingdom says hello —” Conner flew to the gate and pulled Red’s hands off the bars. “Red, come on. You’re gonna get left behind! ~ Chris Colfer,
1423:She had heard about telekinetic phenomena. Where she had heard about it she didn't know, but she knew telekinesis was the ability to move objects by thinking about them. She felt thrilled with the possibilities of her newfound power.
She wondered if she could move larger things, too. She glanced at the Dumpster, narrowed her eyes in concentration, and strained. The side of the Dumpster buckled with a sharp pop. She gasped. Could she bend objects, too?
A noise like rattling chains startled her, and she peered back down the alley. Justin and Mason were shaking the double gate in the fence as if they were trying to break the chain lock. She turned back to the trash piled at the dead end and raised her hands like a great conductor of an orchestra. Soon lettuce leaves, orange peels, coffee grounds, and papers were flying everywhere. With a flick of her wrists, the garbage bounced away from her, heading for Justin and Mason. ~ Lynne Ewing,
1424:I Am Shut Out Of Mine Own Heart
I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me,
nor in the wonders have I part
that fill its hidden empery:
the wildwood of adventurous thought
and lands of dawn my dream had won,
the riches out of Faery brought
are buried with our bridal sun.
And I am in a narrow place,
and all its little streets are cold,
because the absence of her face
has robb'd the sullen air of gold.
My home is in a broader day:
at times I catch it glistening
thro' the dull gate, a flower'd play
and odour of undying spring:
the long days that I lived alone,
sweet madness of the springs I miss'd,
are shed beyond, and thro' them blown
clear laughter, and my lips are kiss'd:
- and here, from mine own joy apart,
I wait the turning of the key: I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me
~ Christopher John Brennan,
1425:My mom raised me as if there were no limitations on where I could go or what I could do. When I look back I realize she raised me like a white kid—not white culturally, but in the sense of believing that the world was my oyster, that I should speak up for myself, that my ideas and thoughts and decisions mattered. We tell people to follow their dreams, but you can only dream of what you can imagine, and, depending on where you come from, your imagination can be quite limited. Growing up in Soweto, our dream was to put another room on our house. Maybe have a driveway. Maybe, someday, a cast-iron gate at the end of the driveway. Because that is all we knew. But the highest rung of what’s possible is far beyond the world you can see. My mother showed me what was possible. The thing that always amazed me about her life was that no one showed her. No one chose her. She did it on her own. She found her way through sheer force of will. ~ Trevor Noah,
1426:Of course, we respect your decision, Farmer Ben,” he said. “I’d like to make one last request, if I may. Would you allow us cubs to sleep in the barn tomorrow night? Sort of our way of saying good-bye to the farm.”
“A sleepover?” said Ben. “Why, sure. After everything you cubs have done for Mrs. Ben and me, it’s the least I can do.”
“Then perhaps you’ll grant me another last request,” said Ferdy. “Would you and the cubs wait while I go home and get my camera and tripod? I’d like to take a group photo right here in the living room.”
“I’d be honored,” said Farmer Ben. “Go on, son. Git!”
Trudy went with Ferdy so she could carry the camera while he carried the tripod. As they headed down the drive to the front gate, Trudy said, “A sleepover and group photo are wonderful ideas, Ferd. Very sweet.”
“Sweet has nothing to do with it,” said Ferdy. “I think I know how to save the Halloween Festival--and, thus, the farm! ~ Stan Berenstain,
1427:One Saturday morning last May, I joined the presidential motorcade as it slipped out of the southern gate of the White House. A mostly white crowd had assembled. As the motorcade drove by, people cheered, held up their smartphones to record the procession, and waved American flags. To be within feet of the president seemed like the thrill of their lives. I was astounded. An old euphoria, which I could not immediately place, gathered up in me. And then I remembered, it was what I felt through much of 2008, as I watched Barack Obama’s star shoot across the political sky. I had never seen so many white people cheer on a black man who was neither an athlete nor an entertainer. And it seemed that they loved him for this, and I thought in those days, which now feel so long ago, that they might then love me, too, and love my wife, and love my child, and love us all in the manner that the God they so fervently cited had commanded. ~ Ta Nehisi Coates,
1428:Philip dobló, caminó junto al puerto de embarcaciones deportivas; luego atravesó Chrissy Field hasta llegar a la bahía y bordeó la orilla del Pacífico, donde las olas serenas que rompían en la playa y el atemporal aroma salino del mar lo serenaron.Tiritó y se abotonó la chaqueta. En la menguante luz del día, el viento frío del Pacífico atravesaba el Golden Gate y pasaba por su lado a toda velocidad, así como las horas de su vida eternamente pasarían, raudas, sin proporcionarle calor ni placer. El viento presagiaba la escarcha de interminables días futuros, días glaciales en los que se levantaría de la cama sin esperanza de que el porvenir le deparara un hogar, amor, contacto de piel, alegría. La mansión de pensamiento puro que había erigido era helada. Qué extraño que no lo hubiera notado antes. Siguió adelante, pero con la tenue certidumbre de que su casa, su vida entera, se había construido sobre cimientos endebles y falsos ~ Irvin D Yalom,
1429:We will die soon; and still our “hope is from him.” May we not expect that when we face illness He will send angels to carry us to His bosom? We believe that when the pulse is faint and the heart is weak, some angelic messenger shall stand and look with loving eyes upon us and whisper, “Come away!” As we approach the heavenly gate, we expect to hear the welcome invitation, “Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”1 We are expecting harps of gold and crowns of glory; we are hoping soon to be among the company of shining ones before the throne; we are looking forward and longing for the time when we shall be like our glorious Lord—for “We shall see him as he is.”2 Then if these are your hopes, O my soul, live for God; live with the desire and resolve to glorify Him from whose grace in your election, redemption, and calling you safely “hope” for the coming glory. ~ Anonymous,
1430:1207
What Care The Dead, For Chanticleer
592
What care the Dead, for Chanticleer—
What care the Dead for Day?
'Tis late your Sunrise vex their face—
And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning
Pour as blank on them
As on the Tier of Wall
The Mason builded, yesterday,
And equally as cool—
What care the Dead for Summer?
The Solstice had no Sun
Could waste the Snow before their Gate—
And knew One Bird a Tune—
Could thrill their Mortised Ear
Of all the Birds that be—
This One—beloved of Mankind
Henceforward cherished be—
What care the Dead for Winter?
Themselves as easy freeze—
June Noon—as January Night—
As soon the South—her Breeze
Of Sycamore—or Cinnamon—
Deposit in a Stone
And put a Stone to keep it Warm—
Give Spices—unto Men—
~ Emily Dickinson,
1431:Long Ago
I loved a maiden, long ago,
She held within her hand my fate;
And in the ruddy sunset glow
We lingered at the garden gate.
The splendor of the western skies
Lay in a halo on her hair.
I gazed with worship in her eyes,
And deemed her true and knew her fair.
'Good night,' I said, and turned away;
She held me with her subtle smile.
I saw her red lips whisper 'stay,'
And so I lingered yet awhile.
'I love you, love you, sweet!' I said,
She laughed, and whispered, 'I love you.'
I kissed her small mouth, ripe and red,
And knew her fair, and deemed her true.
'Twas very, very long ago,
And I was young, and so was she;
My faith as love was strong, for oh!
The maid was all the world to me.
But as the sunset died away
And left the heavens cold and blue,
So died my dream of love one day.
The maid was only fair,
not
true.
~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox,
1432:The Poor Man's Guest
ONE came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.
Then one drew near who bore the flower
Of all the flowers of June and May;
But many griefs had lent me power
And I was strong to turn away.
Then came a beggar to my gate
With shoulders bowed to sorrow's pack,
So weary and so desolate
I had no heart to turn him back.
I let him share my board, my bed,
I warmed him in my shrinking breast,
I gave him all I had, and said:
'You, only you, have been my guest.
'Love passed in many a fair disguise
But never could an entrance win,
But you came in such piteous wise,
Poor friend, I could but let you in.'
Low laughed my guest: 'Kind friend!' said he,
And dropped the rags he was weary of;
And I, betrayed, saw over me
The terrible face of outraged Love.
~ Edith Nesbit,
1433:The girl's arms jutted out at awkward angles, not quite hands on the hips belligerent but not relaxed either, as if they weren't all the way under the girl's control. "I came to find you."
"I didn't know. If I'd known..."
"It doesn't matter now." The girl's attention was unwavering. "This is where you are."
"It is at that."
The girl looked sad. Her soil-dark eyes were clouded over by tears she hadn't been able to shed. "I came here to find you."
"I couldn't have known." Maylene reached out and plucked a leaf from the girl's hair.
"Doesn't matter." She lifted a dirty hand, fingernails flashing chipped red polish, but she didn't seem to know what to do with her outstretched fingers. Little girl fears warred with teenage bravado. Bravado won. "I'm here now."
"All right, then." Maylene walked down the path toward one of the gates. She pulled the key from her handbag, twisted it in the lock, and pushed open the gate. ~ Melissa Marr,
1434:He walked to the exit, skirting the pools of vapor light purely out of habit, but he saw that the last lamp was unavoidable, because it was set directly above the exit gate. So he saved himself a further perimeter diversion by walking through the next-to-last pool of light, too. At which point a woman stepped out of the shadows. She came toward him with a distinctive burst of energy, two fast paces, eager, like she was pleased to see him. Her body language was all about relief. Then it wasn’t. Then it was all about disappointment. She stopped dead, and she said, “Oh.” She was Asian. But not petite. Five-nine, maybe, or even five-ten. And built to match. Not a bone in sight. No kind of a willowy waif. She was about forty, Reacher guessed, with black hair worn long, jeans and a T-shirt under a short cotton coat. She had lace-up shoes on her feet. He said, “Good evening, ma’am.” She was looking past his shoulder. He said, “I’m the only passenger. ~ Lee Child,
1435:The greatest benefit we owe to the artist, whether painter, poet or novelist, is the extension of our sympathies. Appeals founded on generalizations and statistics require a sympathy ready-made, a moral sentiment already in activity; but a picture of human life such as a great artist can give, surprises even the trivial and the selfish into that attention to what is apart from themselves, which may be called the raw material of moral sentiment. When Scott takes us into Luckie Mucklebackit's cottage, or tells the story of The Two Drovers,—when Wordsworth sings to us the reverie of Poor Susan,—when Kingsley shows us Alton Locke gazing yearningly over the gate which leads from the highway into the first wood he ever saw,—when Harnung paints a group of chimney-sweepers,—more is done towards linking the higher classes with the lower, towards obliterating the vulgarity of exclusiveness, than by hundreds of sermons and philosophical dissertations. ~ George Eliot,
1436:The Hermit
I’d gladly climb the highest steeple
To escape those middle minded people

Jet Set Wedding
I wake up screaming clutching my wedding band
The garnet ring is still a constant companion on my finger
But what happened to the marriage?

Fruitland Ave
He taught her not to love nor hate
And he my friend was double gate

The Closing
(On Death and Acceptance)
When he died the funeral took place at her bank
And sadly enough she’s down to her very last frank

The Misogynist
He sits on his throne a hilltop alone
For women’s neurosis cause men’s psychosis

Home Sweet Home
The neurotic builds the dreamhouse
The psychotic becomes his spouse

Monogamy
I’d rather be someone’s concubine, smell the honeysuckle
Taste the wine, than end up being a clinging vine

The Gour Maid
I like champagne, and french brie, and camembert
And men that don’t get in my hair ~ Elissa Eaton,
1437:The Good Man In Hell
If a good man were ever housed in Hell
By needful error of the qualities,
Perhaps to prove the rule or shame the devil,
Or speak the truth only a stranger sees,
Would he, surrendering quick to obvious hate,
Fill half eternity with cries and tears,
Or watch beside Hell's little wicket gate
In patience for the first ten thousand years,
Feeling the curse climb slowly to his throat
That, uttered, dooms him to rescindless ill,
Forcing his praying tongue to run by rote,
Eternity entire before him still?
Would he at last, grown faithful in his station,
Kindle a little hope in hopeless Hell,
And sow among the damned doubts of damnation,
Since here someone could live, and live well?
One doubt of evil would bring down such a grace,
Open such a gate, and Eden could enter in,
Hell be a place like any other place,
And love and hate and life and death begin.
~ Edwin Muir,
1438:The Monk
WHEN in my narrow cell I lie,
The long day's penance done at last,
I see the ghosts of days gone by,
And hear the voices of the past.
I see the blue-gray wood-smoke curled
From hearths where life has rhymed to love,
I see the kingdoms of the world-The glory and the power thereof,
And cry, 'Ah, vainly have I striven!'
And then a voice calls, soft and low:
'Thou gavest My Earth to win My Heaven;
But Heaven-on-Earth thou mayest not know!'
It is not for Thy Heaven, O Lord,
That I renounced Thy pleasant earth-The ship, the furrow, and the sword-The dreams of death, the dreams of birth!
Weary of vigil, fast, and prayer,
Weak in my hope and in my faith-O Christ, for whom this cross I bear,
Meet me beside the gate of Death!
When the night comes, then let me rest
(O Christ, who sanctifiest pain!)
Falling asleep upon Thy breast,
And, if Thou wilt, wake never again!
~ Edith Nesbit,
1439:You Are Tired (I Thi