Auerbach Quotes

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

We want so badly to be happy – to live the kinds of lives that we always hoped we’d live – that we give gifts to ourselves by remembering things not as they were, but as we wish they were.

Truth to tell, at any point in our lives we’ve forgotten more than we know about our own history. The world moves on, and so do we, and what was once important fades away.

Sometimes forgetting is the gift that we give ourselves

It’s a bit poetic that it is so easy to take advantage of those who have no advantages to begin with.

How far can you go into the woods?

The world is a cruel place made crueler still by man.

Now begin in the middle, and later learn the beginning; the end will take care of itself. – Harlan Ellison

Mr. O'Donnell was at the library counter, performing the sort of grim rituals librarians perform with index cards and stumpy pencils and those rubber stamps with columns of rotating numbers. "Ms. Auerbach! What will it be today? Camus? Cervantes?" "Actually I'm looking for a book of poetry by Emily Dickinson" He paused somberly, toying with the twirled tip of his mustache. No matter how seriously librarians are engaged in their work, they are always glad to be interrupted when the theme is books. It makes no difference to them how simple the search is or how behind on time either of you might be running - they consider all queries scrupulously. They love to have their knowledge tested. They lie in wait, they will not be rushed.

The Western Canon does not exist in order to augment preexisting societal elites. It is there to be read by you and by strangers, so that you and those you will never meet can encounter authentic aesthetic power and the authority of what Baudelaire (and Erich Auerbach after him) called “aesthetic dignity.” One

Gertrude Stein maintained that one wrote for oneself and for strangers, a superb recognition that I would extend into a parallel apothegm: one reads for oneself and for strangers. The Western Canon does not exist in order to augment preexisting societal elites. It is there to be read by you and by strangers, so that you and those you will never meet can encounter authentic aesthetic power and the authority of what Baudelaire (and Erich Auerbach after him) called “aesthetic dignity.” One of the ineluctable stigmata of the canonical is aesthetic dignity, which is not to be hired.

Years teach us more than books.

Cancer, Auerbach argued, was a disease unfolded slowly in time. It did not run, but rather slouched to its birth. Auerbach

The Scripture stories do not, like Homer’s, court our favor, they do not flatter us that they may please us and enchant us—they seek to subject us, and if we refuse to be subjected we are rebels.

A coward is a servant of his fears. A hero enslaves his fears.

Faith is belief without proof. Faith is fine, but don't call it science.

It is only during the course of an eventful life that men are differentiated into full individuality.

a can-opener with no tuna made no sense to Boxes.

Our minds work hard to avoid dissonance – if we hold a belief strongly enough, our minds will forcefully reject conflicting evidence so that we can maintain the integrity of our understanding of the world.

Sometimes forgetting is the gift that we give ourselves, and when we do, it’s back to the void, and it’s time for more guesses toward a better life.

Vampires are neither inhuman nor nonhuman nor all-too-human, they are simply more alive than they should be.

Now begin in the middle, and later learn the beginning; the end will take care of itself.

We were explorers. We were adventurers. We were friends.

Our loved ones pass away or simply leave our lives forever too soon, and we think to ourselves, “I wasn’t ready for you to leave. It just wasn’t time,” because we’re never truly ready, because it’s never truly time. So we keep them in our memories. And when we regret that we don’t have more memories of them, maybe our minds give us more gifts; gradually we find ourselves remembering them being with us in times and places that they couldn’t have been, and gradually we stop correcting ourselves because, well, we want them to have been there.

Eudora Welty singles out for praise Austen's "habit of seeing both sides of her own subject - of seeing it indeed in the round". ... Both men and women can be vain about their appearances, selfish about money, overawed by rank, and limited by parochialism; both men and women can function capably, think profoundly, feel deeply, create imaginatively, laugh wittily, and love faithfully. Without vindicating the rights of anyone directly, Austen posits a humanism far ahead of her time. "How really modern she is, after all," Welty concludes of Austen.

Abraham’s actions are explained not only by what is happening to him at the moment, nor yet only by his character (as Achilles’ actions by his courage and his pride, and Odysseus’ by his versatility and foresightedness), but by his previous history; he remembers, he is constantly conscious of, what God has promised him and what God has already accomplished for him—his soul is torn between desperate rebellion and hopeful expectation; his silent obedience is multilayered, has background. Such a problematic psychological situation as this is impossible for any of the Homeric heroes, whose destiny is clearly defined and who wake every morning as if it were the first day of their lives: their emotions, though strong, are simple and find expression instantly.

Basketball is like war in that offensive weapons are developed first, and it always takes a while for the defense to catch up.

Wer nicht zufrieden ist mit dem, was er hat, der waere auch nicht zufrieden mit dem, was er haben moechte.

… human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them to give birth to themselves. —Gabriel García Márquez

Memories extend our lives backward through time, making them feel longer.

You can only master something by loving it.

When you try to reconstruct the series, you find that it isn’t complete, but maybe this never really bothers you, because you can’t miss what you don’t remember.

Interpretation reached such proportions that the real vanished.

To the jaded eye, all vampires seem alike, but they are wonderful in their versatility. Some come to life in moonlight, others are killed by the sun, some pierce with their eyes, others with fangs, some are reactionary, others are rebels, but all are disturbingly close to the mortals they prey on. I can think of no other monsters who are so receptive. Vampires are neither inhuman nor nonhuman nor all-too-human, they are simply more alive than they should be.

It was Plato who bridged the gap between poetry and philosophy; for, in his work, appearance, despised by his Eleatic and Sophist predecessors, became a reflected image of perfection. He set poets the task of writing philosophically, not only in the sense of giving instruction, but in the sense of striving, by the imitation of appearance, to arrive at its true essence and to show its insufficiency measured by the beauty of the Idea.

The Bible’s claim to truth is not only far more urgent than Homer’s, it is tyrannical—it excludes all other claims. The world of the Scripture stories is not satisfied with claiming to be a historically true reality—it insists that it is the only real world, is destined for autocracy.

As a coder and a writer, I always kept a foot in each world. For years, I did not understand how they could possibly converge. But neither made sense in isolation. I studied the humanities to understand logic and programming, and I studied the sciences to understand language and literature.

He didn't mind, though. He hardly noticed at all. Because that's the thing about hope--when it seems that there's no point in moving, it pushes us so forcefully that we come to feel like we /need/ it to keep going... And that's what hope really is, after all. An anesthetic. Something that takes the sharp edges of reality out of focus just enough that we can keep looking at it, keep moving forward with steps that are guided by the assurance that every inch of ground can't possibly be covered in broken glass. And then when it /is/--- when your feet are left as coiled ribbons of wet skin-- you forget what guided you there in the first place.

Where did you come from?” Ben muttered to the toy, like it might answer. Stampie just smiled. And just like Ben’s first night, it felt almost as if the store were smiling back.

it’s often the case that one cannot know the breaking point of a thing until that thing fractures.

Realized dreams often turn into nightmares.

If you're keeping score, win.

Players are people, not horses. You don’t handle them. You work with them, you coach them, you teach them, and, maybe most important, you listen to them.

Vico, who looks at the whole of human history and says, “mind made all this,

I wasn’t scared of the dark, I was scared of what could be hiding in it.

The world moves on, and so do we, and what was once important fades away.

it's a bit poetic that it is so easy to take advantage of those who have no advantages to begin with

Off to the Mines of Moria with you then, foul email.

Who could better motivate Bill Russell than Bill Russell?

Never interrupt a librarian mid-thought!” Ms. Bakadet had said. “She could be on the verge of locating a long-lost book that the next Nobel Prize winner needs to complete their master work!

The concept of the Balloon Project was fairly straightforward. Each student would release a balloon with a note attached, and then would wait for a response from whoever happened to find the balloon.

The writers of Scripture enter into the random everyday depths of popular life, taking seriously whatever is encountered there, clinging to the concrete and refusing to systematize experience in concepts.

Adil olanin pesinden gidilmesi dogrudur, en guclunun pesinden gidilmesi ise kacinilmazdir. Gucu olmayan adalet acizdir; adaleti olmayan guc ise zalim. Gucu olmayan adalete mutlaka bir karsi cikan olur, cunku kotu insanlar her zaman vardir. Adaleti olmayan guc ise tohmet altinda kalir. Demek ki adalet ile gucu bir araya getirmek gerek; bunu yapabilmek icin de adil olanin guclu, guclu olanin ise adil olmasi gerekir. Adalet tartismaya aciktir. Guc ise ilk bakista tartisilmaz bir bicimde anlasilir. Bu nedenle gucu adalete veremedik, cunku guc, adalete karsi cikip kendisinin adil oldugunu soylemisti. Hakli olanin guclu kilamadigimiz icin de guclu olani hakli kildik.

...as hope comforts us, it becomes easier and easier to forget that it too was in the jar that Pandora carried. It's the one horror of the world that wasn't loosed when she opened the lid. It's the one horror that lives in us.

Like Wollstonecraft, Austen rejects the notion that ‘man was made to reason, woman to feel.’ Perhaps Austen was tired of reading passages in conduct books suggesting that young women were innately sensitive, quivering, emotional messes.

Erich Auerbach, bir başka meslektaşı olan Leo Spitzer’le birlikte ‘Weltliteratur’ yani dünya edebiyatı kavramını sistemleştirmeye çalıştı. Aslında bu kavram daha önce Goethe tarafından ortaya atılmıştı. Aynı zamanda bir filozof olan Goethe, ayrı medeniyetlerin yarattığı edebiyattan çok, dünyanın yarattığı edebiyatı anlamaya çalışıyordu. Bu nedenle ileri yaşlarında Farsça öğrendi. İranlı büyük şairleri, Hafız’ı, Sadi’yi, bu arada sizin ortak değeriniz Mevlana Rumi’yi okudu. Meşhur West-Östlicher Diwan’ını yazdı.” “Yani Batı-Doğu Divanı mı oluyor?” “Evet, tam çevirisi bu.” “Max, Mevlana’ya neden ortak değer dediniz?” “Çünkü Konya’da oturmuş ama Farsça yazmış. Eğer Türkçe yazsaydı, üzgünüm ama, dünyanın ondan pek az haberi olurdu. Baksanıza sizin büyük şairleriniz Yunus Emre, Şeyh Galip daha az değerli olmamalarına rağmen dünyada tanınmaz ama Ömer Hayyam, Sadi, Hafız, Rumi çok okunur. Bunda Farsça’nın ve elbette Goethe’nin büyük payı vardır.

Our loved ones pass away or simply leave our lives forever too soon, and we think to ourselves, “I wasn’t ready for you to leave. It just wasn’t time,” because we’re never truly ready, because it’s never truly time. So we keep them in our memories.

if we remembered every detail of every day, we might find ourselves so fixated on the past that most of our memories would be of us just sitting in a dark room thinking about all of our yesterdays---too focused on what was to care at all about what will be.

Sitting in my car that night, I saw it all clearly for the first time. As an adult, I could see the connections that were lost on a child who tends to see the world in snapshots rather than as a sequence. The picture was complete, but I wished I had never seen it at all.

Right as my eyes were about to move onto the next photo in the sequence, they froze and focused on something that vexed me so powerfully that I can now, as I write this, distinctly remember feeling dizzy and capable of only a single, repeating thought. Why am I in this picture?

Examining the Homeric epics from the perspective of when and by whom they were composed, Vico refutes generations of interpreters who had assumed that because Homer was revered for his great epics he must also have been a wise sage like Plato, Socrates, or Bacon. Instead Vico demonstrates that in its wildness and willfulness Homer’s mind was poetic, and his poetry barbaric, not wise or philosophic, that is, full of illogical fantasy, gods who were anything but godlike, and men like Achilles and Patrocles, who were most uncourtly and extremely petulant.

Though I thought Red (Auerbach) wasn't mean enough to (Tommy) Heinsohn it seemed he was too mean to Satch (Sanders) and (Don) Nelson. He'd yell at them for no reason at all, as a pair, and he was cruel. He used to embarrass the whole team as he jumped up and down and yell at them as though they were referees. This offended my sense of justice, and so when of my first reforms when I succeeded Red as coach was to being giving Satch and Nelson the respect they deserved. That season, unfortunately, Satch and Nelson played like ghosts at first. ... It wasn't that they were goofing up, but neither of them seemed to be there, and I couldn't put my finger on exactly what they were doing wrong, but finally I'd boil over and yell at them. Then, of course, they'd play better. For weeks I tried yelling at them only when they were guilty of something, but I didn't work. Then I tried yelling at them when they were clearly innocent; some players, like Heinsohn, could become productively engaged when wrongly accused. But that didn't help either. Then it dawned on me that it didn't matter so much why I yelled at Satch and Nelson; I just had to do it regularly, at certain intervals, the way you take vitamin pills. After only a few months as player -coach I found myself thinking, "Okay, it's 7:20. Time to yell at Satch and Nelson." Needless to say, Red became less of an ogre to me and I became more of one to the players.

Plutarch's Lives, Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Chaucer, Imitation of Christ (Thomas a Kempis), Holy Living and Holy Dying (Jeremy Taylor), Pilgrim's Progress, Macaulay's Essays, Bacon's Essays, Addison's Essays, Essays of Elia (Charles Lamb), Les Miserables (Hugo), Heroes and Hero Worship (Carlyle), Palgrave's Golden Treasury, Wordsworth, Vicar of Wakefield, Adam Bede (George Eliot), Vanity Fair (Thackeray), Ivanhoe (Scott), On the Heights (Auerbach), Eugenie Grandet (Balzac), Scarlet Letter (Hawthorne), Emerson's Essays, Boswell's Life of Johnson, History of the English People (Green), Outlines of Universal History, Origin of Species, Montaigne's Essays, Longfellow, Tennyson, Browning, Whittier, Ruskin, Herbert Spencer.

Come the middle of October, the air was beginning to cool, but like every year, it was happening slowly. It was hard to even feel yet. But the woods could tell. The orange-and-red requiem for the hotter months played vibrantly on the leaves of the oak trees that peppered the side of the road, a beautiful and warm foreground for the choir of deep green pines beyond.

It might be useful here to say a word about Beckett, as a link between the two stages, and as illustrating the shift towards schism. He wrote for transition, an apocalyptic magazine (renovation out of decadence, a Joachite indication in the title), and has often shown a flair for apocalyptic variations, the funniest of which is the frustrated millennialism of the Lynch family in Watt, and the most telling, perhaps, the conclusion of Comment c'est. He is the perverse theologian of a world which has suffered a Fall, experienced an Incarnation which changes all relations of past, present, and future, but which will not be redeemed. Time is an endless transition from one condition of misery to another, 'a passion without form or stations,' to be ended by no parousia. It is a world crying out for forms and stations, and for apocalypse; all it gets is vain temporality, mad, multiform antithetical influx. It would be wrong to think that the negatives of Beckett are a denial of the paradigm in favour of reality in all its poverty. In Proust, whom Beckett so admires, the order, the forms of the passion, all derive from the last book; they are positive. In Beckett, the signs of order and form are more or less continuously presented, but always with a sign of cancellation; they are resources not to be believed in, cheques which will bounce. Order, the Christian paradigm, he suggests, is no longer usable except as an irony; that is why the Rooneys collapse in laughter when they read on the Wayside Pulpit that the Lord will uphold all that fall. But of course it is this order, however ironized, this continuously transmitted idea of order, that makes Beckett's point, and provides his books with the structural and linguistic features which enable us to make sense of them. In his progress he has presumed upon our familiarity with his habits of language and structure to make the relation between the occulted forms and the narrative surface more and more tenuous; in Comment c'est he mimes a virtually schismatic breakdown of this relation, and of his language. This is perfectly possible to reach a point along this line where nothing whatever is communicated, but of course Beckett has not reached it by a long way; and whatever preserves intelligibility is what prevents schism. This is, I think, a point to be remembered whenever one considers extremely novel, avant-garde writing. Schism is meaningless without reference to some prior condition; the absolutely New is simply unintelligible, even as novelty. It may, of course, be asked: unintelligible to whom? --the inference being that a minority public, perhaps very small--members of a circle in a square world--do understand the terms in which the new thing speaks. And certainly the minority public is a recognized feature of modern literature, and certainly conditions are such that there may be many small minorities instead of one large one; and certainly this is in itself schismatic. The history of European literature, from the time the imagination's Latin first made an accommodation with the lingua franca, is in part the history of the education of a public--cultivated but not necessarily learned, as Auerbach says, made up of what he calls la cour et la ville. That this public should break up into specialized schools, and their language grow scholastic, would only be surprising if one thought that the existence of excellent mechanical means of communication implied excellent communications, and we know it does not, McLuhan's 'the medium is the message' notwithstanding. But it is still true that novelty of itself implies the existence of what is not novel, a past. The smaller the circle, and the more ambitious its schemes of renovation, the less useful, on the whole, its past will be. And the shorter. I will return to these points in a moment.

The effect, to be sure, is precisely that which they describe, and is, furthermore, the actual source of the conception of epic which they themselves hold, and with them all writers decisively influenced by classical antiquity. But the true cause of the impression of “retardation” appears to me to lie elsewhere—namely, in the need of the Homeric style to leave nothing which it mentions half in darkness and unexternalized.

Our loved ones pass away or simply leave our lives forever too soon, and we think to ourselves, “I wasn’t ready for you to leave. It just wasn’t time,” because we’re never truly ready, because it’s never truly time. So we keep them in our memories. And when we regret that we don’t have more memories of them, maybe our minds give us more gifts; gradually we find ourselves remembering them being with us in times and places that they couldn’t have been, and gradually we stop correcting ourselves because, well, we want them to have been there.

To be sure, in the case of such long episodes as the one we are considering, a purely syntactical connection with the principal theme would hardly have been possible; but a connection with it through perspective would have been all the easier had the content been arranged with that end in view; if, that is, the entire story of the scar had been presented as a recollection which awakens in Odysseus’ mind at this particular moment. It would have been perfectly easy to do; the story of the scar had only to be inserted two verses earlier, at the first mention of the word scar, where the motifs “Odysseus” and “recollection” were already at hand. But any such subjectivistic-perspectivistic procedure, creating a foreground and background, resulting in the present lying open to the depths of the past, is entirely foreign to the Homeric style; the Homeric style knows only a foreground, only a uniformly illuminated, uniformly objective present.

Don't walk into the future looking backwards

believed that after a person had learned enough at

You have given me nothing of yours, and I have given you nothing of mine.

Harry Tugend had abandoned radio to write films; Allen’s writers were now Arnold Auerbach and Herman Wouk (later famous as the author of The Caine Mutiny and other bestselling novels). Wouk and Auerbach may have been the most rewritten team in radio, for Allen continued to do the script’s final drafts.

As unnatural actors, vampires represent freedom from activity - even, it seems, from sexuality.

To emulate a vampire is to be a spectator disappearing into a spectator: we listen, talk, watch, without touching or becoming. because they glide on the margins of activity, Sandy Stone's vampires dissipate rigid structures of gender and received identity, freeing their acolytes to "celebrate the change, the passing forms.

Auerbach kitaplarından birinde, gözüme onun bir denemesi çarptı. Pascal üzerine yazılmış bu denemenin adı, "Kötünün Zaferi" idi. Auerbach'ın Pascal'dan alıntıladığı giriş bölümü beni çok etkiledi ve son günlerde çeşitli örneklerini öğrendiğim devlet zulmüne bir açıklama getirdi: Adil olanın peşinden gidilmesi doğrudur, en güçlünün peşinden gidilmesi ise kaçınılmazdır. Gücü olmayan adalet acizdir; adaleti olmayan güç ise zalim. Gücü olmayan adalete mutlaka bir karşı çıkan olur, çünkü kötü insanlar her zaman vardır. Adaleti olmayan güç ise töhmet altında kalır. Demek ki adalet ile gücü bir araya getirmek gerek; bunu yapabilmek için de adil olanın güçlü, güçlü olanın ise adil olması gerekir. Adalet tartışmaya açıktır. Güç ise ilk bakışta tartışılmaz biçimde anlaşılır. Bu nedenle gücü adalete veremedik, çünkü güç, adalete karşı çıkıp kendisinin adil olduğunu söylemişti. Haklı olanı güçlü kılamadığımız için de güçlü olanı haklı kıldık.

He couldn’t know how scary having a child could be, knowing there’s a piece of yourself out in the world that you can protect only with warnings and rules that could be ignored and broken;

infected eyes and awkward, hunched comportment.

The Auerbach who is most familiar today is defined by a certain time period: he is the scholar who fled Germany and who wrote under duress in impoverished conditions (most memorably, but least significantly, without a research library) and then later reflected on this tumultuous era, the Auerbach of “Figura” (1938), Mimesis (1946), and “The Philology of World Literature” (1952).

Our lives are so short that it seems a crime to squander any of it by forgetting. Memories extend our lives backward through time, making them feel longer. And that’s what we want. So we try to remember. But sometimes, when we do, we wish that we could just forget again.

His cries were coming from my walkie-talkie. Boxes never came home.

at any point in our lives we’ve forgotten more than we know about our own history. The world moves on, and so do we, and what was once important fades away.

The events of our lives unfold linearly, but in the mental reel of those past experiences, most of the frames that haven't been completely stolen by time are left distorted and blurred by it. When you try to reconstruct the series, you find that it isn't complete, but maybe this never really bothers you, because you can't miss what you don't remember.

uno dei grandi libri della critica letteraria, Mimesis di Erich Auerbach: fu scritto durante la guerra, a Costantinopoli, dove non esistevano biblioteche fornite per studi sui testi europei, e dove non esistevano nemmeno edizioni critiche fidate dei testi. E Auerbach dice: «Del resto, è possibilissimo che il libro debba la sua esistenza proprio alla mancanza d’una grande biblioteca specializzata; se avessi potuto far ricerche, informarmi su tutto quello che è stato scritto intorno a tanti argomenti, forse non mi sarei piú indotto a scriverlo. Sto cercando di dire che forse è addirittura grazie a quella sua parziale ma sperimentata superficialità che Fellini ha concepito un film cosí ambizioso con il rischio di sbagliarlo.

Midgard was the human world, built by the Aesir Gods. Like Asgard, it was surrounded by a defensive wall. The rainbow bridge Bifrost connected Midgard and Asgard. Humans could only cross the bridge after they died, but the gods could and sometimes did cross into the human world at will. The enclosed land where Midgard’s people lived was completely surrounded by an impassable, serpent-infested sea.   Most

far can you go into the woods?

Long before Eichmann’s capture, Auerbach had conducted research on Operation 1005, the large-scale secret campaign to destroy evidence of the Final Solution by digging up the mass graves, pulverizing the bodies in specially adapted cement-mixer apparatuses, and erasing all traces of the atrocities. She also found two people who had participated as slave laborers in this effort. -- The Eichmann Trial, page 53

Odin, also called Woden or Wotan, was the god of inspiration and the giver of poetry, wisdom and battle-rage.  Most of the myths describe him as the firstborn and father of the gods, although some older stories give that role to Tyr.

Death defines life. I'd rather stay undefined.

Conflict occurs when two pasts step on the toes of the present.

To come up with one great sentence, one needs to serve a life sentence.

I need a whole other life not to let this one go to waste.

I have inflammation of the imagination.

A GOOD LIBRARY Besides the works mentioned everyone should endeavor to have the following: Plutarch's Lives, Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, Chaucer, Imitation of Christ (Thomas a Kempis), Holy Living and Holy Dying (Jeremy Taylor), Pilgrim's Progress, Macaulay's Essays, Bacon's Essays, Addison's Essays, Essays of Elia (Charles Lamb), Les Miserables (Hugo), Heroes and Hero Worship (Carlyle), Palgrave's Golden Treasury, Wordsworth, Vicar of Wakefield, Adam Bede (George Eliot), Vanity Fair (Thackeray), Ivanhoe (Scott), On the Heights (Auerbach), Eugenie Grandet (Balzac), Scarlet Letter (Hawthorne), Emerson's Essays, Boswell's Life of Johnson, History of the English People (Green), Outlines of Universal History, Origin of Species, Montaigne's Essays, Longfellow, Tennyson, Browning, Whittier, Ruskin, Herbert Spencer. A good encyclopoedia is very desirable and a reliable dictionary indispensable.

Sure!” replied the crew. SpongeBob came out of the makeup and wardrobe departments feeling quite good about himself. Barry began to explain to SpongeBob what the final stunt was. “Okay, Superstar, this is the most dangerous stunt yet. Only a true daredevil could pull it off.” “Bring it on!” declared SpongeBob. “I’m unstoppable!” “Great! How do you like paddle bikes?” asked Barry. “Love ’em!” SpongeBob exclaimed, though he had never been on one in his life. “You are going to do a stunt that will not only be the most significant stunt for the TV show, but will surely put you in the record books, too!” “All right!” SpongeBob cheered. “Hey, do I get paid extra for that?” “Uh … we’ll talk about that later,” Barry said. “Now get on that paddle bike, Superstar, and let’s make TV history!” Sitting high atop a paddle bike at the edge of Jellyfish

Ammit was the personification of chaos and disorder; a representation of all that the Ancient Egyptians feared and hated.

Austen suggests that a gentleman is made, not born - and made only through a process of painful self-reflection and discovery.

The greatest coach in basketball history began his professional career coaching football players at basketball.

There are only two types of composers: composing composers and decomposing composers.

Babi (alt. spelling Baba) is a bloodthirsty Baboon God.

In one Globetrotter’s skit, it involved Globetrotter’s Captain Meadowlark Lemon collapsing on the ground, and Wilt threw him up in the air several feet high and caught him like a baby. Lemon weighed 210 lbs. Lemon, and other people including Arnold Schwarzenegger, said that Wilt was the strongest athlete that ever lived. On March 9, 2000, his number 13 was retired by the Globetrotters. Wilt’s NBA Career Accomplishments On October 24, 1959 Wilt finally made his NBA debut. Wilt played for the then, “Philadelphia Warriors.” Wilt immediately became the league’s top earner making $30,000 topping Bob Cousy who was making $25,000. The $30,000 is equivalent to $263,000 in today’s currency as per the year 2019. In Wilt’s 1959-1960 season, which was his rookie year, his team made the playoffs. The Warriors beat the Syracuse Nationals then had to go on to play the Eastern Conference Champions, the Boston Celtics. Coach Red Auerbach strategized his forward Tom Heinsohn to commit fouls on Wilt. When the Warriors shot free throws, Heinsohn grabbed and pushed Wilt to stop him from getting back on defense, so quickly. Wilt was a prolific shot blocker, and this allowed Celtics to score quickly without Wilt protecting the basket. The Warriors lost the series 4 games to two after Tom Heinsohn got a last second tip in to seal the win of the series for the Celtics. As a rookie Wilt shocked Warriors' fans by saying he was thinking of retiring from basketball. He was tired of being double- and triple-teamed, and of teams fouling him very hard. Wilt was afraid that he would lose his temper one day which he did in the playoff series versus Boston. Wilt punched Heinsohn and injured his hand. Wilt played for The Philadelphia Warriors, who then relocated to San Francisco, The Philadelphia 76ers, and The Los Angeles Lakers. He won one title with the 76ers then one with the Lakers. First NBA game Wilt scored 43 points and snatched 28 rebounds. Grabbed his rookie career high of 43 rebounds in a win over the New York Knicks.