Auditor Quotes

Writers write to influence their readers, their preachers, their auditors, but always, at bottom, to be more themselves.

Listen, do you really expect me to believe that God lives beneath the Vatican?- Ezio Auditore

The Auditors fluttered anxiously. And, as always happens in their species when something goes radically wrong and needs fixing instantly, they settled down to try to work how who was to blame.

A Poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness, and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.

People are quick to judge but slow to correct themselves- Ezio Auditore

Requiescat in pace -Ezio Auditore

To say that nothing is true is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile and that we must be the shepherds of our civilization. To say that everything is permitted is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with their consequences, whether glorious of tragic.

I admit that I myself am far from having a complete command of every topic I touch on, but my knowledge of my subject is always greater than the interest or the understanding of my auditors. You see, there is one very good thing about mankind; the mediocre masses make very few demands of the mediocrities of a higher order, submitting stupidly and cheerfully to their guidance

Do not fear the darkness, but welcome it's embrace.

My story is one of many thousands, and the world will not suffer if it ends too soon.

I cannot lie to you any more than I could lie to myself,” Paul said. “I know this. Every man should have such an auditor.

To say that nothing is true, is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shepherds of our own civilization. To say that everything is permitted, is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with their consequences, whether glorious or tragic.

We work in the Dark to serve the Light. We are assassin's.

Nothing is True. Everything is Permitted

When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it. Many decades would pass before I understood the meaning of all three. And now, the twilight of my life, this understanding has passed into contentment. Love, liberty, and time: once so disposable, are the fuels that drive me forward. And love, most especially, mio caro. For you, our children, our brothers and sisters. And for the vast and wonderful world that gave us life, and keeps us guessing. Endless affection, mia Sofia. Forever yours, Ezio Auditore.

I will journey to the black heart of a corrupt empire to root out my foes. But Rome wasn't built in a day and it won't be restored by a lone Assassin. I am Ezio Auditore Da Firenze. This is my Brotherhood.

No one is more worried by the actual physical manifestation of a god than his priests; it's like having the auditors in unexpectedly.

When you keep sweeping things under the carpet, eventually the lump is big enough for the auditors to trip over.

Obviously, he needed to kill Bubba, but how? The man was a trained prison guard twice his size. The tax auditors had been easy. Mr. Ethics had slapped them to death with their own attaché cases. And even then, his neighbours had chipped in to help him hide the bodies. "A tax auditor, you say? No problem. Let me get my spade.

The crowd began to murmur, but then a firm voice stilled it. Giovanni Auditore was speaking.'It is you who is the traitor, Uberto. You, one of my closest associates and friends, in whom I entrusted my life! And I am a fool. I did not see that you are one of them!' Here he raised his voice to a great cry of anguish and of rage.'You may take our lives today, but mark this - we will have yours in return!' -Giovanni Auditore, Before his execution

I am so glad To come accidentally upon My self at the end of a tortuous road And have learned with surprise that God Unworshipped withers to the Futile One. —PATRICK KAVANAGH, FROM “AUDITORS IN

[N]othing is more odious to the auditor, than the artless tongue of a tedious dolt, which dulls the delight of hearing, and slacketh the desire of remembering.

So, Lord Auditor Coz. Did you find some fun? Do I look cheerful? More like manic. It's a joy, Ivan, an absolute joy. The ImpSec internal Security system is lying to me.

She had seen early in life that there was none in this world to audit one's soul. A man could deform himself into the most miserable of creatures, and no holy hand would descend from the clouds and cry Halt. And if there was no auditor, then one must audit one's own soul, tenaciously and without mercy.

A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.

Gvarab was old enough that she often wandered and maundered. Attendance at her lectures was small and uneven. She soon picked out the thin boy with big ears as her one constant auditor. She began to lecture for him. The light, steady, intelligent eyes met hers, steadied her, woke her, she flashed to brilliance, regained the vision lost. She soared, and the other students in the room looked up confused or startled, even scared if they had the wits to be scared. Gvarab saw a much larger universe than most people were capable of seeing, and it made them blink. The light-eyed boy watched her steadily. In his face she saw her joy. What she offered, what she had offered for a whole lifetime, what no one had ever shared with her, he shared. He was her brother, across the gulf of fifty years, and her redemption.

You have no power over us, said the Auditor. We are notalive. BUT YOU ARE DEMONSTRATING ARROGANCE, PRIDE AND STUPIDITY. THESE ARE EMOTIONS. I WOULD SAY THEY ARE SIGNS OF LIFE. "Excuse me?" said the shining figure in white. But you are all alone here! "Excuse me?" YES? said Death. WHAT IS IT? "This is the Apocalypse, yes?" said the shining figure petulantly. WE ARE TALKING. "Yes, right, but is it the Apocalypse? The actual end of the actual whole world?" No, said the Auditor. YES, said Death. IT IS. "Great!" said the figure. What? said the Auditor. WHAT? said Death.

Nada es verdad, todo esta permitido

You are the sort of auditor for whom the rhetoricians designed the exordium.

...the Baron felt cold inside, certain that even the most careful manipulations would not stand up to the close scrutiny of these demonic auditors.

I’m starting to get the enemy and the auditors muddled up in my mind. I’m terrified of both of them, but the auditors know where I live.

There is a plain under a dim sky. It is covered with gentle rolling curves that might remind you of something else if you saw it from a long way away, and if you did see it from a long way away you'd be very glad that you were, in fact, a long way away. Three gray figures floated just above it. Exactly what they were can't be described in normal language. Some people might call them cherubs, although there was nothing rosy-cheeked about them. They might be rumored among those who see to it that gravity operates and that time stays separate from space. Call them auditors. Auditors of reality. They were in conversation without speaking. They didn't need to speak. They just changed reality so that they had spoken. One said, It has never happened before. Can it be done? One said, It will have to be done. There is a personality. Personalities come to an end. Only forces endure. It said this with satisfaction. One said, Besides... there have been irregularities. Where you get personality, you get irregularities. Well-known fact. One said, He has worked inefficiently? One said, No. We can't get him there. One said, That is the point. The word is him. Becoming a personality is inefficient. We don't want it to spread. Supposing gravity developed a personality? Supposing it decided to like people? One said, Got a crush on them, that sort of thing? One said, in a voice that would have been even chillier if it was not already at absolute zero, No. One said, Sorry. Just my little joke. One said, Besides, sometimes he wonders about his job. Such speculation is dangerous. One said, No argument there. One said, Then we are agreed? One, who seemed to have been thinking about something, said, Just one moment. Did you not just use the singular pronoun "my?" Not developing a personality, are you? One said, guiltily, Who? Us? One said, Where there is personality, there is discord. One said, Yes. Yes. Very true. One said, All right. But watch it in future. One said, Then we are agreed? They looked up at the face of Azrael, outlined against the sky. In fact, it was the sky. Azrael nodded, slowly. One said, Very well. Where is this place? One said, It is the Discworld. It rides through space on the back of a giant turtle. One said, Oh, one of that sort. I hate them. One said, You're doing it again. You said "I." One said, No! No! I didn't! I never said "I!"... oh, bugger... It burst into flame and burned in the same way that a small cloud of vapor burns, quickly and with no residual mess. Almost immediately, another one appeared. It was identical in appearance to its vanished sibling. One said, Let that be a lesson. To become a personality is to end. And now... let us go.

She felt livid. They'd all lost so many powers. It was ridiculous to have to communicate by flapping bits of your skin, and as for the tongue... Yuerkkk ... As far as she knew, in the whole life of the universe, no Auditor had ever experienced the sensation of yuerkkk. This wretched body was full of opportunities for yuerkkk. She could leave it at any time and yet, and yet... part of her didn't want to. There was this horrible desire, second by second, to hang on. And she felt hungry. And that also made no sense. The stomach was a bag for digesting food. It wasn't supposed to issue commands. The Auditors could survive quite well by exchanging molecules with their surroundings and making use of any local source of energy. That was a fact. Try telling that to the stomach. She could feel it. It was sitting there, grumbling. She was being harassed by her internal organs. Why the ... why the. . why had they copied internal organs? Yuerkkk. It was all too much. She wanted to... she wanted to... express herself by shouting some, some, some terrible words...

His master plan to get them all out the door early met its first check of the day when he opened his closet door to discover that Zap the Cat, having penetrated the security of Vorkosigan House through Miles's quisling cook, had made a nest on the floor among his boots and fallen clothing to have kittens. Six of them. Zap ignored his threats about the dire consequences of attacking an Imperial Auditor, and purred and growled from the dimness in her usual schizophrenic fashion. Miles gathered his nerve and rescued his best boots and House uniform, at a cost of some high Vor blood, and sent them downstairs for a hasty cleaning by the overworked Armsman Pym. The Countess, delighted as ever to find her biological empire increasing, came in thoughtfully bearing a cat-gourmet tray prepared by Ma Kosti that Miles would have had no hesitation in eating for his own breakfast. In the general chaos of the morning, however, he had to go down to the kitchen and scrounge his meal. The Countess sat on the floor and cooed into his closet for a good half-hour, and not only escaped laceration, but managed to pick up, sex, and name the whole batch of little squirming furballs before tearing herself away to hurry and dress.

It was a typical summer evening in June, the atmosphere being in such delicate equilibrium and so transmissive that inanimate objects seemed endowed with two or three senses, if not five. There was no distinction between the near and the far, and an auditor felt close to everything within the horizon. The soundlessness impressed her as a positive entity rather than as the mere negation of noise.

Bojim se ljudi koji dostojanstvo mere samo veličinom nesreće koju čovek može da podnese. Osećam zazor od ljudi koji ne umeju da se šale. I sa najozbiljnijim stvarima. Možete li, Auditore, da zamislite Njegoša kako se kikoće? Pa njegovim vojvodama i serdarima ništa nije smešno osim unižavanja drugih!

Tej nodded again. “Then he turned up on my front steps. I thought he might be a capper stalking me. So I invited him in, and Rish shot him.” The cousin jerked slightly. The emperor’s eyebrows went up. “Stunned him, sweetling,” Rish corrected, urgently. “Just a little light stun, really.” “And then we dragged him up to our flat,” Tej went on. “This wasn’t in the ImpSec report,” said The Gregor. “It wasn’t relevant by then,” said Ivan Xav, in a distant tone. “Forgive, forget . . .” “So we tied him to a chair for the night,” said Tej. The Lord Auditor Coz made a strange little wheeing sound. He was biting his own hand, Tej noticed. Ivan Xav pointedly ignored him.

No one is a judge in his own case. Therefore ask: who audits the auditors themselves?

The Auditors avoided death by never going so far as to get a life. They strove to be as indistinguishable as hydrogen atoms, and with none of the latter’s joie de vivre.

Chandler could outdrink a sponge, though he had been dealing with auditors all day, and if anything was an excuse to drink to excess, it was auditors.

War is the great auditor of institutions

Pentagon auditors told Smith that as of the end of 2003, about $1 billion in KBR’s supposed costs in Iraq were not credible and should be thrown out.

execrations: A Moment after She repeated her Paternoster:* Now She howled out the most horrible blasphemies, and then chaunted De Profundis,* as orderly as if still in the Choir. In short She seemed a mighty capricious Being: But whether She prayed or cursed, whether She was impious or devout, She always contrived to terrify her Auditors out of their senses. The

Your head wants you to do something for a better future. Your heart wants you to do what you like in the present. They are like two directors of a company. If they are on the same page (what you enjoy doing in present is also good for your future), the company flourishes. They come on the same page when the auditor or observer of the company (your soul) is aware.

This horse is decidedly, or rather has been in his youth, a buttercup," resumed the stranger, continuing the remarks he had begun, and addressing himself to his auditors at the window,

Words were originally magic, and the word retains much of its old magical power even to-day. With words one man can make another blessed, or drive him to despair; by words the teacher transfers his knowledge to the pupil; by words the speaker sweeps his audience with him and determines its judgments and decisions. Words call forth effects and are the universal means of influencing human beings. Therefore let us not underestimate the use of words in psychotherapy, and let us be satisfied if we may be auditors of the words which are exchanged between the analyst and his patient.

I’ve met gibbering horrors from other universes, been psychically entangled with a serial killer fish goddess, stalked by zombies, imprisoned by a megalomaniac billionaire, and I’ve even survived the attention of the Auditors (when I was young, foolish, and didn’t know any better). But I’ve never lost a classified file before, and I don’t ever want there to be a first time. I force myself to sit down

The Auditors had tried to understand religion, because so much that made no sense whatsoever was done in its name. But it could also excuse practically any kind of eccentricity. Genocide, for example. By

But to bang again on this rusty, perforated drum, the primary cause that is identified by every person in the system, every parliamentary report and every purse-lipped auditor remains lack of proper funding.

You bastards are on the top of Imperial Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan's very own shit list now, you bet. But under what name? Only five days on this benighted world, and already total strangers are trying to kill me.

And, as is generally the case around the time a prophet is expected, the Church redoubled its efforts to be holy. This was very much like the bustle you get in any large concern when the auditors are expected, but tended towards taking people suspected of being less holy and putting them to death in a hundred ingenious ways. This is considered a reliable barometer of the state of one’s piety in most of the really popular religions.

He bantered us, challenged us, electrified us . . . At times his eloquence held us silent as images and some witty turn, some humorous phrase brought roars of applause. At times we cheered almost every sentence, like delegates at a political convention, At other moments we rose in our seats and yelled. There was something hypnotic in his rhythm and phrasing. His power over his auditors was absolute. {Garland's thoughts on the great Robert Ingersoll}

It is related of a Swedish priest that, profoundly disturbed by the sight of the effect his address produced upon the auditors, who were dissolved in tears, he said soothingly, "Children, do not weep; the whole thing might be a lie.

one who, though he never digress to read a Lecture, Moral or Political, upon his own Text, nor enter into men’s hearts, further than the Actions themselves evidently guide him…filleth his Narrations with that choice of matter, and ordereth them with that Judgement, and with such perspicuity and efficacy expresseth himself that (as Plutarch saith) he maketh his Auditor a Spectator. For he setteth his Reader in the Assemblies of the People, and in their Senates, at their debating; in the Streets, at their Seditions; and in the Field, at their Battels. Quoted by Shelby Foote in his The Civil War: A Narrative – Volume 2: Fredericksburg to Meridian, Bibliographical Note, from Thomas Hobbes’ Forward to Hobbes’ translation of The Peloponnesian War by Thucydides

The minister whose sermons are made up merely of flowers of rhetoric, sprigs of quotation, sweet fancy, and perfumed commonplaces, is—consciously or unconsciously—posing in the pulpit. His literary charlotte-russes, sweet froth on a spongy, pulpy base, never helped a human soul,—they give neither strength nor inspiration. If the mind and heart of the preacher were really thrilled with the greatness and simplicity of religion, he would, week by week, apply the ringing truths of his faith to the vital problems of daily living. The test of a strong, simple sermon is results,—not the Sunday praise of his auditors, but their bettered lives during the week. People who pray on their knees on Sunday and prey on their neighbors on Monday, need simplicity in their faith.

Here is a man,” said the Captain, addressing himself to his fair auditors, and indicating the commander with his outstretched hook, “that has fell down more than any man alive; that has had more accidents happen to his own self than the Seamen’s Hospital to all hands; that took as many spars and bars and bolts about the outside of his head when he was young, as you’d want a order for on Chathamyard* to build a pleasure-yacht with; and yet that got his opinions in that way, it’s my belief, for there an’t nothing like ’em afloat or ashore.

The aficionado, or lover of the bullfight, may be said, broadly, then, to be one who has this sense of the tragedy and ritual of the fight so that the minor aspects are not important except as they relate to the whole. Either you have this or you have not, just as, without implying any comparison, you have or have not an ear for music. Without an ear for music the principle impression of an auditor at a symphony concert might be of the motions of the players of the double bass, just as the spectator at the bullfight might remember only the obvious grotesqueness of a picador.

Four men entered Gregor's office. Miles recognized them at once; he was Barrayaran enough that his first thought was a conscience-stricken, My God, what have I done wrong? Good sense reasserted itself; his feats of evil would have had to have been downright heroic to rate the attention of four Imperial Auditors at one time.

The interrogation and banter [with the IRS auditor] went on until lunch. In the process, Clark learned a valuable lesson that all Americans figure out sooner or later: if the government wants to fuck you, it is only a matter of when and what position they prefer. KY is optional and applied purely at the government's discretion.

In Pawtucket, Rhode Island, in 1824, came the first known strike of women factory workers; 202 women joined men in protesting a wage cut and longer hours, but they met separately. Four years later, women in Dover, New Hampshire, struck alone. And in Lowell, Massachusetts, in 1834, when a young woman was fired from her job, other girls left their looms, one of them then climbing the town pump and making, according to a newspaper report, “a flaming Mary Wollstonecraft speech on the rights of women and the iniquities of the ‘moneyed aristocracy’ which produced a powerful effect on her auditors and they determined to have their own way, if they died for it.

Love, liberty, and time: once so disposable, are the fuels that drive me forward. And for the vast and wonderful world that gave us life, and keeps us guessing

How did people come to chant rude poems while pulling certain ropes or gathering certain fruit, and why did nobody do anything of the kind while producing any of the modern things? Why is a modern newspaper never printed by singing in chorus? Why do shopmen seldom, if ever, sing? If reapers sing while reaping, why should not auditors sing while auditing and bankers while banking?

Countless others, however, failed to escape the relentless pursuit of the auditors, who assured society that law would prevail. They hunted those who tried to circumvent their rules, which were harsh to prevent the city’s power supply from failing. The rules had to be harsh to avoid bad precedents. Nobody had the freedom to spontaneously use their imagination. This was the order of things.

The day came indeed when her breathless auditors learnt from her in bewilderment that what ailed him was that he was, alas, simply not serious. Maisie wept on Mrs Wix’s bosom after hearing that Sir Claude was a butterfly; considering moreover that her governess but half-patched it up in coming out at various moments the next few days with the opinion that it was proper to his ‘station’ to be careless and free.

Fiction cannot move so much, but that the attention may be easily transferred; and though it must be allowed that pleasing melancholy be sometimes interrupted by unwelcome levity, yet let it be considered likewise, that melancholy is often not pleasing, and that the disturbance of one man may be the relief of another; that different auditors have different habitudes; and that, upon the whole, all pleasure consists in variety.

Here’s the thing about birthdays. Your dad didn’t pull out. You didn’t do shit. You didn’t earn anything. I’ll tell you who else has or had birthday celebrations each year: Charles Manson, Jim Jones, Osama bin Laden, Pol Pot, Jeremy Piven, and Ted Bundy. All the people you hate in life, all the pedophiles, all the murderers, all the IRS auditors have birthdays. I don’t think we should celebrate Idi Amin’s birthday and I don’t think we should celebrate yours either.

I myself once heard a great fool (a great scholar I would have said) undertaking in a laborious discourse to explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity; in the unfolding whereof, that he might shew his wit and reading, and together satisfy itching ears, he proceeded in a new method, as by insisting on the letters, syllables, and proposition, on the concord of noun and verb, and that of noun substantive, and noun adjective; the auditors all wondered, and some mumbled to themselves that hemistich of Horace, Why all this needless trash?

Chief Moroka was not as great an orator as most of the Native chiefs but he excelled in philosophy. In that respect his witty expressions and dry humour were equal to those of Moshueshue, the Basuto King. He spoke in a staccato voice, with short sentences and a stop after each, as though composing the next sentence. His speeches abounded in allegories and proverbial sayings, some traditional and others spontaneous. His own maxims had about them the spice of originality which always provided his auditors with much food for thought. [104]

When standing and talking – [he] bent the head forward condescendingly to his listener (a trick inherited from his mother), was easily audible in any drawing-room through the buzz of conversation and filled and permeated a room with his presence… Attitude when seated and talking – Leant forward from his waist towards his listener; fixed his eyes full upon him; made much play with his right arm and hand, moving the arm freely from the shoulder, and letting the large hand with its full and fleshy palm move freely on the wrist. When he made a point… would throw himself back in the chair and look at his auditor as much as to say: ‘What can you find to say to that?

Henry Ford’s antisemitism was rank, and it was unchecked. He spewed it freely in private tirades among friends, family, close business cohorts, newspaper reporters, or pretty much anybody within earshot. He lectured his sometimes-weary auditors in the Ford Motor Company offices, in private chats, in interviews, at dinners, even on camping trips. Ford “attributes all evil to Jews or to the Jewish capitalists,” a close friend wrote in his diary after witnessing a late-night, round-the-campfire diatribe. Ford whined about “New York Jews” and railed about “Wall Street Kikes.” He even ordered his engineers to forgo the use of any brass in his Model T automobile, calling it “Jew metal.

Look at it, a whole drawerful, men and women, every one of them a real executive, or auditor, or manager of some business, and when I recommend one, I know somebody is getting something for his money. They're all home, sitting by their phones, hoping I'll call. I won't call. I've got nothing to tell them. What I'm trying to get through your head is: You haven't got a chance. Those people, it hurts me, it makes me lie awake nights, that I've got nothing for them. They deserve something, and there's not a thing I can do. But there's not a chance I'd slip you ahead of any one of them. You're not qualified. There's not a thing on earth you can do, and I hate people that can't do anything.

Hold on, hold on," said Susan. "This makes no sense. Auditors hate everything about life. And you are an Auditor, aren’t you?" "I have no idea what I am," sighed Lady LeJean. "But right now I know that I am everything an Auditor should not be. We … they … we have to be stopped!" "With chocolate?" said Susan. "The sense of taste is new to us. Alien. We have no defences." "But … chocolate?" "A dry biscuit almost killed me," said her ladyship. "Susan, can you imagine what it is like to experience taste for the first time? We built our bodies well. Oh, yes. Lots of tastebuds. Water is like wine. But chocolate … even the mind stops. There is nothing but the taste." She sighed. "I imagine it is a wonderful way to die.

The maxim, by which we commonly conduct ourselves in our reasonings, is, that the objects, of which we have no experience, resemble those, of which we have; that what we have found to be most usual is always most probable; and that where there is an opposition of arguments, we ought to give the preference to such as are founded on the greatest number of past observations. But though, in proceeding by this rule, we readily reject any fact which is unusual and incredible in an ordinary degree; yet in advancing farther, the mind observes not always the same rule; but when anything is affirmed utterly absurd and miraculous, it rather the more readily admits of such a fact, upon account of that very circumstance, which ought to destroy all its authority. The passion of surprise and wonder, arising from miracles, being an agreeable emotion, gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those events, from which it is derived. And this goes so far, that even those who cannot enjoy this pleasure immediately, nor can believe those miraculous events, of which they are informed, yet love to partake of the satisfaction at secondhand or by rebound, and place a pride and delight in exciting the admiration of others. 17 With what greediness are the miraculous accounts of travelers received, their descriptions of sea and land monsters, their relations of wonderful adventures, strange men, and uncouth manners? But if the spirit of religion join itself to the love of wonder, there is an end of common sense; and human testimony, in these circumstances, loses all pretensions to authority. A religionist may be an enthusiast, and imagine he sees what has no reality: He may know his narrative to be false, and yet persevere in it, with the best intentions in the world, for the sake of promoting so holy a cause: Or even where this delusion has not place, vanity, excited by so strong a temptation, operates on him more powerfully than on the rest of mankind in any other circumstances; and self-interest with equal force. His auditors may not have, and commonly have not, sufficient judgment to canvass his evidence: What judgment they have, they renounce by principle, in these sublime and mysterious subjects: Or if they were ever so willing to employ it, passion and a heated imagination disturb the regularity of its operations. Their credulity increases his impudence: And his impudence overpowers their credulity.

From modest origins, the Treasury offices proliferated until they occupied the entire block. The 1791 city directory gives an anatomy of this burgeoning department, with 8 employees in Hamilton’s office, 13 in the comptroller’s, 15 in the auditor’s, 19 in the register’s, 3 in the treasurer’s, 14 in the office for settling accounts between the federal government and the states, and 21 in the customs office on Second Street, with an additional 122 customs collectors and surveyors scattered in various ports. By the standards of the day, this represented a prodigious bureaucracy. For its critics, it was a monster in the making, inciting fears that the department would become the Treasury secretary’s personal spy force and military machine. Swollen by the Customs Service, the Treasury Department payroll ballooned to more than five hundred employees under Hamilton,

New bureaucracy takes the form not of a specific, delimited function performed by particular workers but invades all areas of work, with the result that – as Kafka prophesied – workers become their own auditors, forced to assess their own performance. Take, for example, the ‘new system’ that OFSTED (Office for Standards in Education) uses to inspect Further Education colleges. Under the old system, a college would have a ‘heavy’ inspection once every four years or so, i.e. one involving many lesson observations and a large number of inspectors present in the college. Under the new, ‘improved’ system, if a college can demonstrate that its internal assessment systems are effective, it will only have to undergo a ‘light’ inspection. But the downside of this ‘light’ inspection is obvious – surveillance and monitoring are outsourced from OFSTED to the college and ultimately to lecturers themselves, and become a permanent feature of the college structure (and of the psychology of individual lecturers). The difference between the old/heavy and new/light inspection system corresponds precisely to Kafka’s distinction between ostensible acquittal and indefinite postponement, outlined above. With ostensible acquittal, you petition the lower court judges until they grant you a non-binding reprieve. You are then free from the court, until the time when your case is re-opened. Indefinite postponement, meanwhile, keeps your case at the lowest level of the court, but at the cost of an anxiety that has never ends. (The changes in OFSTED inspections are mirrored by in the change from the Research Assessment Exercise to the Research Excellence Framework in higher education: periodic assessment will be superseded by a permanent and ubiquitous measurement which cannot help but generate the same perpetual anxiety.)

We crossed to the sea wall. It was a clear night, very beautiful, very still - you will not remember it. I took a photo to file away for the auditor who will one day decree whether I gave you a happy childhood or not, but it came out black. I like to think the image is tucked away in your mind, though, informing the man you will one day become. This is what I like to think: that it's all there, or not all of it, just the good stuff - the midsummer stars as keen as anything, the moon gilding the waves silver, the horizon a dark expanse, the world before man. The lack of bearings took down my fever too, Sailor, which was a different type of fever altogether, a fever which on one level I hope you don't inherit, and on another I pray you do, it being the fever that makes life interesting. I felt good, little Sailor, I felt like myself. I started singing to you, not because I can sing, but despite the fact that I can't.

Semper ego auditor tantum? numquamne reponam vexatus totiens rauci Theseide Cordi? inpune ergo mihi recitaverit ille togatas, hic elegos? inpune diem consumpserit ingens Telephus aut summi plena iam margine libri scriptus et in tergo necdum finitus Orestes? nota magis nulli domus est sua quam mihi lucus Martis et Aeoliis vicinum rupibus antrum Vulcani. Quid agant venti, quas torqueat umbras Aeacus, unde alius furtivae devehat aurum pelliculae, quantas iaculetur Monychus ornos, Frontonis platani convulsaque marmora clamant semper et adsiduo ruptae lectore columnae: expectes eadem a summo minimoque poeta. et nos ergo manum ferulae subduximus, et nos consilium dedimus Sullae, privatus ut altum dormiret; stulta est clementia, cum tot ubique vatibus occurras, periturae parcere chartae. cur tamen hoc potius libeat decurrere campo per quem magnus equos Auruncae flexit alumnus, si vacat ac placidi rationem admittitis, edam.

There was little effort to conceal this method of doing business. It was common knowledge, from senior managers and heads of research and development to the people responsible for formulation and the clinical people. Essentially, Ranbaxy’s manufacturing standards boiled down to whatever the company could get away with. As Thakur knew from his years of training, a well-made drug is not one that passes its final test. Its quality must be assessed at each step of production and lies in all the data that accompanies it. Each of those test results, recorded along the way, helps to create an essential roadmap of quality. But because Ranbaxy was fixated on results, regulations and requirements were viewed with indifference. Good manufacturing practices were stop signs and inconvenient detours. So Ranbaxy was driving any way it chose to arrive at favorable results, then moving around road signs, rearranging traffic lights, and adjusting mileage after the fact. As the company’s head of analytical research would later tell an auditor: “It is not in Indian culture to record the data while we conduct our experiments.

Thakur’s findings were not news to Ranbaxy’s top executives. Just ten months earlier, in October 2003, outside auditors started investigating Ranbaxy facilities worldwide. In this case, the audits had been ordered up by Ranbaxy itself. This was a common industry practice: drug companies often hired consultants to audit their facilities as a dry run to see how visible their problems were. If the consultants could find it, they reasoned, then most likely regulators could too. The fact-finding mission by Lachman Consultant Services left Ranbaxy officials under no illusion as to the extent of the company’s failings. At Ranbaxy’s Princeton, New Jersey, facility, auditors found that the company’s Patient Safety Department barely functioned and training was essentially “non-existent.” The staff had no written protocols for investigating patient complaints, which piled up in boxes, uncategorized and unreported. They had no clerical help for basic tasks like mailing out the patients’ samples for testing. “I don’t think there’s the same medicine in this medicine,” was a common refrain from patients. Even when there were investigations, they were so perfunctory and half-hearted that expiration dates were listed as “unknown,” even when they could easily have been found from a product’s lot number. An audit of Ranbaxy’s main U.S. manufacturing plant, Ohm Laboratories in New Jersey, found that the company, though required to report adverse events to the FDA, rarely did so. There was no system to capture patient complaints after hours, and no global medical officer to ensure that any potential negative consequences for patients were being monitored. The consultants from Lachman urged Ranbaxy to address these problems globally. Ranbaxy’s initial reaction to the findings was to question the number of hours, and the resulting invoice, that Lachman had sent for its work.

THIS IS MY ABC BOOK of people God loves. We’ll start with . . .           A: God loves Adorable people. God loves those who are Affable and Affectionate. God loves Ambulance drivers, Artists, Accordion players, Astronauts, Airplane pilots, and Acrobats. God loves African Americans, the Amish, Anglicans, and Animal husbandry workers. God loves Animal-rights Activists, Astrologers, Adulterers, Addicts, Atheists, and Abortionists.           B: God loves Babies. God loves Bible readers. God loves Baptists and Barbershop quartets . . . Boys and Boy Band members . . . Blondes, Brunettes, and old ladies with Blue hair. He loves the Bedraggled, the Beat up, and the Burnt out . . . the Bullied and the Bullies . . . people who are Brave, Busy, Bossy, Bitter, Boastful, Bored, and Boorish. God loves all the Blue men in the Blue Man Group.           C: God loves Crystal meth junkies,           D: Drag queens,           E: and Elvis impersonators.           F: God loves the Faithful and the Faithless, the Fearful and the Fearless. He loves people from Fiji, Finland, and France; people who Fight for Freedom, their Friends, and their right to party; and God loves people who sound like Fat Albert . . . “Hey, hey, hey!”           G: God loves Greedy Guatemalan Gynecologists.           H: God loves Homosexuals, and people who are Homophobic, and all the Homo sapiens in between.           I: God loves IRS auditors.           J: God loves late-night talk-show hosts named Jimmy (Fallon or Kimmel), people who eat Jim sausages (Dean or Slim), people who love Jams (hip-hop or strawberry), singers named Justin (Timberlake or Bieber), and people who aren’t ready for this Jelly (Beyoncé’s or grape).           K: God loves Khloe Kardashian, Kourtney Kardashian, Kim Kardashian, and Kanye Kardashian. (Please don’t tell him I said that.)           L: God loves people in Laos and people who are feeling Lousy. God loves people who are Ludicrous, and God loves Ludacris. God loves Ladies, and God loves Lady Gaga.           M: God loves Ministers, Missionaries, and Meter maids; people who are Malicious, Meticulous, Mischievous, and Mysterious; people who collect Marbles and people who have lost their Marbles . . . and Miley Cyrus.           N: God loves Ninjas, Nudists, and Nose pickers,           O: Obstetricians, Orthodontists, Optometrists, Ophthalmologists, and Overweight Obituary writers,           P: Pimps, Pornographers, and Pedophiles,           Q: the Queen of England, the members of the band Queen, and Queen Latifah.           R: God loves the people of Rwanda and the Rebels who committed genocide against them.           S: God loves Strippers in Stilettos working on the Strip in Sin City;           T: it’s not unusual that God loves Tom Jones.           U: God loves people from the United States, the United Kingdom, and the United Arab Emirates; Ukrainians and Uruguayans, the Unemployed and Unemployment inspectors; blind baseball Umpires and shady Used-car salesmen. God loves Ushers, and God loves Usher.           V: God loves Vegetarians in Virginia Beach, Vegans in Vietnam, and people who eat lots of Vanilla bean ice cream in Las Vegas.           W: The great I AM loves will.i.am. He loves Waitresses who work at Waffle Houses, Weirdos who have gotten lots of Wet Willies, and Weight Watchers who hide Whatchamacallits in their Windbreakers.           X: God loves X-ray technicians.           Y: God loves You.           Z: God loves Zoologists who are preparing for the Zombie apocalypse. God . . . is for the rest of us. And we have the responsibility, the honor, of letting the world know that God is for them, and he’s inviting them into a life-changing relationship with him. So let ’em know.

In sum, auditors had scrutinized Solyndra and found it to have, from its inception, a fatally flawed business model that was hurtling toward collapse. Yet, the president touted it as a success story that would be spurring jobs, growth, and spectacular success for the foreseeable future.

need to download and install Python, get the recent most stable version from python.org and install it on your computer. If you already have Python installed on your Linux computer, do not uninstall the older 2.x as this may break your operating system. Instead, install the latest version alongside it. You may be required to use the command python3 and not python to initialize the interpreter though. All the information you need is provided on the documentation page of the Python.org website. We recommend you take the time to read the ‘Beginners Guide’ if you are still new to Python. Practical hacking: Free online hacking practice servers There is a saying in the world of information security that the best defense is a good offense. This is what has inspired many cyber security companies to make available deliberately vulnerable websites and servers to encourage developers, auditors, pentesters, system admins, and security professionals to practice their hacking skills online.

Auditors are to the world of finance what anti-doping lab technicians are to the Tour de France; they both test thousands of random samples each year and find nothing wrong.

She had seen early in life that there was none in this world to audit one’s soul. A man could deform himself into the most miserable of creatures, and no holy hand would descend from the clouds and cry Halt. And if there was no auditor, then one must audit one’s own soul, tenaciously and without mercy.

Meawhile, Goldsmith had been studying the special surveillance program with growing unease. Addington's behavior with the NSA auditors was 'a wake-up call for me,' Goldsmith said, warning him that he had better look even more closely. Cheney and Addington, Goldsmith came to believe, manipulated the legal advice they sought. 'They were geniuses at this,' Goldsmith said. 'They could divide up all these problems in the bureaucracy, ask different people to decide things in their lanes, control the facts they gave them, and then put the answers together to get the result they want.

If Brenner and Potenza had replied with the auditor-equivalent of 'you're not the boss of me,' they would have been right. The two men could have pressed their document request and told the big, loud man from the White House to get out of their way. But that kind of thing did not happen often to an emissary of the vice president, Addington least of all.

El cuerpo no es más que un elemento en el sistema del sujeto y de su mundo, y la tarea le arranca los movimientos necesarios por una especie de atracción a distancia, como las fuerzas fenomenales en acción en mi campo visual me arrancan, sin cálculo, las reacciones motrices que establecerán entre sí el mejor equilibrio, o como las usanzas de nuestro medio, la constelación de nuestros auditores nos arrancan inmediatamente las palabras, las actitudes, el tono que resultan convenientes; no porque busquemos cómo camuflar nuestros pensamientos o cómo agradar, sino porque somos literalmente lo que los demás piensan de nosotros y lo que nuestro mundo es.

Southern resistance, had made the contest an “Abolition war.” Northern Democrats and white Southerners denounced “abolition war” as the inhumane path to sanguinary race war. Both sides felt something deeply sacred at stake, and no one more than Douglass. Yes, he acknowledged, the war was for Union and for the Constitution, but it must be a wholly new Union, and a new Constitution to replace the old one now torn and tattered. The country must not “put old wine in new bottles,” he argued, nor make “new cloth into old garments.” Douglass warned that liberal and open-minded people such as abolitionists themselves were rarely as unified as the forces of reaction and darkness. But in this historic moment, they had to be. “That old union,” he shouted, “whose canonized bones we saw hearsed in death and inurned under the frowning battlements of Sumter, we shall never see again while the world standeth.” Stop fighting for a “dead past,” Douglass urged his auditors, and instead fight “for the living present.”9 Here flowed a set of rebirth metaphors flaming, bloody, and much bolder than the succinct, if beautiful, suggestion in Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. “Mission of the War” stood as Douglass’s radical

Even ImpSec has to bend and spread ’em for an Imperial Auditor.

If others qualify, it's a great going; if an auditor qualifies, it's not.

We need industrious people in the education sector. The job is beyond the four walls of a classroom. Teaching itself is an empire. In it is the job of a healer, a doctor, a businessman, a researcher, a visionary, an accountant, an auditor, a leader, a manager, a designer...the list is so long, it scares the typical teacher.

Estados Unidos, 2013. Se lanza la película El lobo de Wall Street, con Leonardo DiCaprio como actor principal. Se basa en la autobiografía de un excorredor de bolsa Jordan Belfort, escrita después de salir de prisión. La película fue un éxito: con una inversión inicial cerca de los cien millones de dólares, recaudó más de cuatrocientos millones.24 Lo que todavía no se sabía durante el lanzamiento de la película es que al menos una parte de su financiamiento provino, probablemente, de transacciones fraudulentas de empresas de Wall Street y del distrito Manhattan: Goldman Sachs y quizás también JPMorgan Chase y Deutsche Bank.25 Entre 2009 y 2015, más de cuatro mil quinientos millones de dólares en fondos pertenecientes al Fondo de Desarrollo de Malasia fueron aparentemente malversados, escribe el Departamento de Justicia de Estados Unidos.26 Los dineros del fondo terminaron en manos privadas en vez de impulsar el desarrollo económico a largo plazo de Malasia. Según el citado Departamento de Justicia, el entonces director de Goldman Sachs, Tim Leissner, conspiró con autoridades de Malasia para lavar el dinero en Estados Unidos comprando «bienes raíces... de lujo en la ciudad de Nueva York y en otros lugares, y obras de arte y financiando importantes películas de Hollywood», incluida El Lobo de Wall Street.27 Además, a los auditores KPMG y Deloitte al menos se les investiga por negligencia grave.28 En suma, es como si el Chapo Guzmán hubiera legalizado parte de su dinero proveniente del narcotráfico a través de una película taquillera sobre el narcotráfico. El rol de Goldman Sachs durante el caso destaca en todo sentido. En 2010, el banco de inversión fue descrito por el periodista Matt Taibbi como «gran calamar vampiro envuelto alrededor del rostro de la humanidad, atascando incansablemente su embudo de sangre en cualquier cosa que huela a dinero».29 El caso de Malasia permite ver cuánta razón hay detrás de esa caricatura verbal: para poder abrir la puerta y entrar a trabajar para el Fondo Soberano de Malasia, Goldman Sachs pagó primero sobornos de mil seiscientos millones de dólares.30 Una vez en el negocio, las primeras comisiones recibidas por coordinar la suscripción de seis mil quinientos millones de dólares en bonos para el Fondo Soberano fueron de seiscientos millones de dólares.31 Los cuatro mil quinientos millones de dólares desaparecidos del Fondo Soberano fueron movidos con ayuda de Goldman Sachs, lo que incluyó el uso de vehículos corporativos registrados en territorios offshore. En 2020, Goldman Sachs Group acordó pagar dos mil novecientos millones de dólares a las autoridades de Estados Unidos y tres mil novecientos millones al Gobierno de Malasia por su rol en el escándalo.32 Quien piense que por un par de mil millones de dólares desviados y un escándalo de dimensiones internacionales una empresa debería salir del mercado, está equivocado. De hecho, las cosas podrían haber sido peores para el gigante financiero. Sus acuerdos extrajudiciales han reemplazado probables condenas que hubieran conllevado las pérdidas de clientes institucionales. Así se entiende que los costosos acuerdos extrajudiciales de Goldman Sachs hicieran subir el valor de sus acciones. Es «demasiado calamar para fallar», había sentenciado Te Economist

Lately, I have been thinking about the importance of a great network as envisioned by the Almighty. The question in my mind is whether it is more viable to audit your network or expand it for more and better options or both.

Many people reading these words were probably “volun-told” to become auditors.

She’d remembered a detail from Ezio Auditore’s teaching on the subject of loyalty and treason: if the pupils of the person you are speaking to dilate and their pulse increases, they are hiding something.

Berning was the sort of person Ivar knew he could control. Like the other junior boffins at Ernst & Ernst, Berning saw every new client as an opportunity to advance, to prove to the Ernst brothers that he was partnership material. The International Match account was an exciting opportunity, Berning’s first major chance at a promotion from the firm’s lowest ranks. Although Berning had the qualities of a fine auditor, he was not a businessman. He was persistent, with a sharp eye for detail, but he was also cautious and careful.

Berning concluded that he couldn’t run the risk of using Ivar’s new numbers. He simply had to find a way to send the Wisconsin regulators something that added up at least $4,400,000, the amount Lee Higginson already had told investors was International Match’s income. In an extraordinary auditor-to-client letter, Berning wrote to Ivar on December 11, that “In view of the fact that the circular stated that the earnings for the first six months ‘were in excess of $4,400,000’, I thought it best to increase this amount slightly.” Increase this amount slightly? Yes, at Berning’s request, Ernst & Ernst reported net income for International Match of $4,475,000, a nice round number that was higher than the income Ivar and Lee Higginson previously had reported to investors. In a letter to Lee Higginson, Berning did not highlight the fact that he had adjusted the earnings. Instead, he merely noted, somewhat opaquely, that “the figures shown on the attached are subject to any necessary adjustment upon the final closing of the books of the various companies at the end of the fiscal year.”60 Meanwhile, Berning and Ivar still had not met in New York. Berning summed up his most recent work in a letter to Ivar: “It is therefore to be sincerely hoped that the enclosed will be the final chapter with respect to the State of Wisconsin.”61 Indeed, with the “adjusted” numbers, it was.

Those branching and converging money flows, he thought, looked familiar: They struck Gambaryan as the typical, contrived complexity of someone splitting up and reassembling their illicit funds in the hopes of throwing an auditor off their trail.

Ivar tried dangling a carrot in front of his auditor. He invited the Bernings to sail with him from Canada to the Far East, all expenses paid. It had become obvious to Ivar that Berning was jealous of his international travels. Mrs Berning also coveted the trips her husband told her about, especially Ivar’s time in five-star hotels, restaurants, and luxury cruise cabins. She was delighted by Ivar’s invitation and the couple eagerly accepted. The next month, when Berning gently reminded Ivar that the Wisconsin regulators had not gone away, Ivar suggested that they simply send them updated versions of the financial statements with no additional detail. Berning agreed, even though it was obvious that Wisconsin wanted more.

The money Ivar had spent on the Bernings’ vacation was well worth it. As the details of the new preferred issue were being finalized, Ivar’s auditor – the one man who might have asked penetrating questions about the accounting details of the deal – had been just where Ivar wanted him: strolling the streets of London and Paris with his wife. Ivar said he wanted A.D. Berning to meet Krister Littorin in Stockholm. He also wanted to take care of Mrs Berning. Ivar advised that “Miss Littorin asks if Mrs Berning should like to stay with her in the south of Sweden a couple of days in which case she would meet you in Malmoe.”54 Mrs Berning was delighted to receive such royal treatment.