Ayre Quotes

Wars do not combust without warning. They begin as little fires over the horizon. Wars approach. A wise man watches for the smoke, and prepares to vacate the neighborhood just like Ayrs and Jocasta. My worry is that the next war will be so big, nowhere with a decent restaurant will be left untouched.

Other nights, Ayrs likes me to read him poetry, especially his beloved Keats. He whispers the verses as I recite, as if his voice is leaning on mine.

All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn." [Brigs of Ayr]

The movies, I thought, have got the soundtrack to war all wrong. War isn't rock 'n' roll. It's got nothing to do with Jimi Hendrix or Richard Wagner. War is nursery rhymes and early Madonna tracks. War is the music from your childhood. Because war, when it's not making you kill or be killed, turns you into an infant. For the past eight days, I'd been living like a five-year-old — a nonexistence of daytime naps, mushy food, and lavatory breaks. My adult life was back in Los Angeles with my dirty dishes and credit card bills.

In the smoky firelight the two old men nodded off like a pair of ancient kings passing the aeons in their tumuli. Made a musical notation of their snores. Elgar is to be played by a bass tuba, Ayrs a bassoon.

I will not tip toe through life only to arrive safely at death.

Sometimes you make a sacrifice for what you believe,even if it hurts you your whole life.

people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

Ayrs let long moments fall away. ‘You’re young, Frobisher, you’re rich, you’ve got a brain, and by all accounts you’re not wholly repugnant. I’m not sure why you stay on here.’… …Couldn’t say if Ayrs felt humor, pity, nostalgia or scorn…Jocasta seemed angry with me. ‘What?’ I hissed. ‘My husband loves you,’ said the wife, dressing.

Summer has taken a sensuous turn: Ayrs’s wife and I are lovers. Don’t alarm yourself! Only in the carnal sense.

She [Samantha Lyle] was a realist, someone who knew choices were meant to be made, and that one must suffer the consequences of those choices, no matter what they were.

Sadly, I have to admit, my timing sucks. Not the best - or most romantic - idea to tell your woman "I love you" for the first time whilst impaling the crap out of her.

Been thinking of my grandfather, whose wayward brilliance skipped my father’s generation. Once, he showed me an aquatint of a certain Siamese temple. Don’t recall its name, but ever since a disciple of the Buddha preached on the spot centuries ago, every bandit king, tyrant, and monarch of that kingdom has enhanced it with marble towers, scented arboretums, gold-leafed domes, lavished murals on its vaulted ceilings, set emeralds into the eyes of its statuettes. When the temple finally equals its counterpart in the Pure Land, so the story goes, that day humanity shall have fulfilled its purpose, and Time itself shall come to an end. To men like Ayrs, it occurs to me, this temple is civilization. The masses, slaves, peasants, and foot soldiers exist in the cracks of its flagstones, ignorant even of their ignorance. Not so the great statesmen, scientists, artists, and most of all, the composers of the age, any age, who are civilization’s architects, masons, and priests. Ayrs sees our role is to make civilization ever more resplendent. My employer’s profoundest, or only, wish is to create a minaret that inheritors of Progress a thousand years from now will point to and say, “Look, there is Vyvyan Ayrs!” How vulgar, this hankering after immortality, how vain, how false. Composers are merely scribblers of cave paintings. One writes music because winter is eternal and because, if one didn’t, the wolves and blizzards would be at one’s throat all the sooner.

There's one thing your writing must have to be any good at all. It must have you. Your soul, your self, your heart, your guts, your voice -- you must be on that page. In the end, you can't make the magic happen for your reader. You can only allow the miracle of 'being one with' to take place. So dare to be yourself. Dare to reveal yourself. Be honest, be open, be true...If you are, everything else will fall into place.

We have to be despised by somebody whom we regard as above us or we are not happy; we have to have somebody to worship and envy or we cannot be content.

Dayum! You know Charley's pissed when the f-bomb is flying out her mouth like it's her job to drop them.

Find your fucking balls, Mitch, and reattach them!

You can be flat on your ass but still be a winner.

truth is rarely pure and never simple.” —Oscar Wilde

Behold Lucius I am come, thy weeping and prayers hath mooved mee to succour thee. I am she that is the naturall mother of all things, mistresse and governesse of all the Elements, the initiall progeny of worlds, chiefe of powers divine, Queene of heaven! the principall of the Gods celestiall, the light of the goddesses: at my will the planets of the ayre, the wholesome winds of the Seas, and the silences of hell be diposed; my name, my divinity is adored throughout all the world in divers manners, in variable customes and in many names, for the Phrygians call me the mother of the Gods: the Athenians, Minerva: the Cyprians, Venus: the Candians, Diana: the Sicilians Proserpina: the Eleusians, Ceres: some Juno, other Bellona, other Hecate: and principally the Aethiopians which dwell in the Orient, and the Aegyptians which are excellent in all kind of ancient doctrine, and by their proper ceremonies accustome to worship mee, doe call mee Queene Isis. Behold I am come to take pitty of thy fortune and tribulation, behold I am present to favour and ayd thee, leave off thy weeping and lamentation, put away all thy sorrow, for behold the healthfull day which is ordained by my providence, therefore be ready to attend to my commandement. This day which shall come after this night, is dedicated to my service, by an eternall religion, my Priests and Ministers doe accustome after the tempests of the Sea, be ceased, to offer in my name a new ship as a first fruit of my Navigation.

-Como é que tu achas que é o mundo das pessoas crescidas? -Não sei dizer. Sou um rapa- disse, com muita sinceridade. São muito traiçoeiras, sir? ---- Mr. Darcie (professor) e Maurice P.13, Maurice, E.M. Forster, Livros Cotovia, tradução de Jorge Ayres Roza de Oliveira P.13, Maurice

-Como é que tu achas que é o mundo das pessoas crescidas? -Não sei dizer. Sou um rapaz - disse, com muita sinceridade. - São muito traiçoeiras, sir? -------------~ Mr. Ducie (professor) e Maurice p.13, MAURICE - E.M. FORSTER, Livros Cotovia, 1989, esgotado, tradução: Jorge Ayres Roza de Oliveira

Wars do not combust without warning. They begin as little fires over the horizon. Wars approach. A wise man watches for the smoke, and prepares to vacate the neighborhood, just like Ayrs and Jocasta. My worry is that the next war will be so big, nowhere with a decent restaurant will be left untouched.

We had all opted to take City's financial reporting course work, which, in theory, meant we wanted to write about stock prices and corporate takeovers. That, of course, was a joke. No one still in their twenties, and broke, goes into journalism to write about money—a subject in which they still have zero practical experience.

At least the presence of Harry, her tabby cat, purring softly and weaving in and out of her legs was better than no company at all.

Look at yourself for a change! You’ll be counting the grains of rice I buy next! Talk about tight – Scrooge has nothing on you!

Conscious of the way spinach has a habit of flaunting itself between front teeth, she packed tooth picks in her new clutch bag.

Remember what he said about my picture: I’m lovely and it made him do double cartwheels. Remember also that he’s prone to hyperbole, so don’t take everything he says literally.

If you count proper nouns, the word in English with the most varied spellings is air with a remarkable thirty-eight: Aire, ayr, heir, e’er, ere, and so on.

A blue vein throbbed over Ayrs’s Adam’s apple, and I fought off an unaccountably strong urge to open it up with my penknife. Most uncanny. Not quite déjà vu, more jamais vu.

How lucky am I to be blessed with such a loving family? You and Lindsay are my greatest life's work and I am proud artist.

Kath asleep (and snoring with her mouth open!) in the tack room.

I’m growing fond of your bullshit ... it’s got a nice scent to it.” He chuckles.

This country was not built... by men who sought handouts. John Galt speech, Atlas Shrugged, 1957

Just as my tomorrows would be everybody else’s yesterdays,

all those pills was a terrible mistake. The only thought I had at the time was I’m tired, tired of hurting, tired of guilt, tired of sadness, tired of pain, tired, tired, tired.

goes on, and we have no control over it.

you’re going through hell, keep going.” ―Winston Churchill

we’re meant to experience life like this, one day at a time, without complete answers to all life’s questions. I

She scooted up tighter and kissed him, hearing the stomp and rhythm of lust pulse in her blood. A rhythm as primitive as time.

She kissed him tonight, just like she had the first time twelve years ago, with everything she had.

is a memory, tomorrow is a mystery and today is a gift―which is why it is called the present.” ―Unknown

person with no forgiveness in their heart for the things they’ve done is doing nobody any favors. It’s a punishment worse than death, worse than Hell. Is

longest journey commences with a single step, and the first step is always the hardest.

we may face numerous problems seeming to contradict God’s plan, these shouldn’t be barriers but opportunities to turn a negative into a positive. It’s

Get a job working with your hands, his grandfather had always told him, it's the most satisfying thing you can ever do.  Create, build, repair.

Your heart ... your mind ... they shut down. Not life, though. It doesn’t give you a chance to blink.

I have found the keeper of my balls, Mitch. I’m ready to hand them over.

All of that happiness was overwhelming the shit out of you! You must feel better now that you’re a miserable fucking prick again.

Too long since I’ve felt ebullience.

Civilization is the progress toward a society of privacy.

In the Belgian backwaters, south of Bruges, there lives a reclusive English composer, named Vyvyan Ayrs. You won’t have heard of him because you’re a musical oaf, but he’s one of the greats.

are like stained glass windows; they sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true identity is revealed only if there is light within.” —Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

Can I get two coffees?’ Joanna cringed. That cashier ought to tell her straight that she may have two coffees, but she certainly can’t get them because customers aren’t allowed behind the counter!

Ours is the “land of the free”—nobody denies that—nobody challenges it. (Maybe it is because we won’t let other people testify.) —Roughing It, 1872, ch. 54 (commenting on mistreatment of Chinese in the West)

Joanna swooned on hearing his voice and knew immediately that she would more than merely like him. Could be love at first type, she thought. It was a voice so luscious that only a hunk of a dreamboat could possess

Dark vaild Cotytto, t’ whom the secret flame Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame That ne’re art call’d, but when the Dragon woom Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom, And makes one blot of all the ayr

Looking for my final love with someone who is ready to settle down. Of course dating is great initially, but I don’t wish to be dating indefinitely, so if you’re looking for an indefinite dating partner, please pass me by.

Fortunately the train was not very full, and the corridor immediately outside their carriage was deserted, or somebody might have had a very interesting demonstration of how to kiss a woman who had refused for months to be kissed.

Oh, why don’t you just write him into the will as well, Mama? Why not give him half the estate?” She got down from the table without being excused. Ayrs croaked, “First good idea the girl’s had in seventeen years!” loud enough for her to hear. “At least Frobisher earns his damn keep!

now, I know the answer with absolute certainty: the most destructive force isn’t anything you can hold physically with your hands, it’s something you hold in your heart. It’s a tiny five-letter word, not even hard to pronounce: g-u-i-l-t. It kills you slowly from the inside out, and there are no drugs to numb the pain.

La popolazione di Buenos-Ayres disseminata in lande immense, avendo per tetto mal costrutte capanne, lontane fra loro, in un paese tristissimo, difettante d'acqua e di legna, contrae dall'isolamento, dalle privazioni e dalle distanze, un carattere tetro, insocievole, barbaro; i suoi istinti tengono dell'indiano selvaggio delle frontiere del paese, da cui riceve le piume di struzzo, mantelli per i cavalli e legno per lancie, oggetti tutti d'un paese, in cui la civiltà europea non ha penetrato, scambiandoli coll'acquavite e col tabacco che gli Indiani poi recano in quelle immense pianure dei Pampas donde presero il nome, o cui forse diedero il loro.

She had be by the balls - literally had her fingers wrapped around my balls! Her hand fit them good, Mitch!" I can hear desire in his voice. "At times it was a little painful, I have to admit, but my balls were made to fit in her palm. Mitch, "he says, all too seriously, "I have found the keeper of my balls, Mitch. I'm ready to hand them over.

bizarre flatmates and all-night pirate-themed parties are part of the package of student life. But when she meets Aquila, a reckless party-goer with a secret, Ash learns that there’s something else that drew her to the small village of Blackstone: the presence of the Venantium, gatekeepers of the barrier between our world and the Darkworld - the source of magic and the home of demons.

strange thing about her is that she sometimes draws the future. Only her brother Logan, fighting his cancer diagnosis, knows what she can do. But when a stranger named Ethan appears, determined to protect Caspia and her brother from dangers he won’t explain, she’s not sure what to think. Strangers almost never come to Whitfield. They certainly don’t follow her around, frightening her one moment and treating her like glass the next. And they certainly don’t look exactly like the subject of her most violent drawing.

Estava atento, como era natural, dado que era o único na aula, e sabia que o assunto era sério e se relacionava com o seu próprio corpo. Mas não conseguia identificar-se com ele; caía aos bocados assim que Mr Ducie o juntava, como uma soma impossível. Tentou em vão. A sua mente entorpecida recusava-se a acordar. A puberdade estava ali, mas não a inteligência, e a virilidade aproximava-se sub-repticiamente, tal como deve ser, no meio de um transe. É inútil descrevê-lo, por mais científico e compassivo que se seja. O rapaz consente e é de novo arrastado para o sono, donde só é seduzido quando é chegada a sua hora. (...) Faltavam ainda o amor e a vida, e ele falou deles enquanto avançavam ao longo do mar sem cor. Falou do homem ideal - puro de ascetismo. Traçou a beleza da Mulher. (...) Amar uma mulher digna, protegê-la e servi-la - isto, disse ao rapaz, era o auge da vida. (...) Tudo tem um sentido...tudo; e Deus está no seu céu, tudo está bem na terra. Homem e mulher! Que maravilha! P.15-16, Maurice, editora Cotovia, tradutor Jorge Ayres Roza de Oliveira

S’il est quelquefois logique de s’en rapporter à l’apparence des phénomènes, ce premier chant finit ici. Ne soyez pas sévère pour celui qui ne fait encore qu’essayer sa lyre : elle rend un son si étrange ! Cependant, si vous voulez être impartial, vous reconnaîtrez déjà une empreinte forte, au milieu des imperfections. Quant à moi, je vais me remettre au travail, pour faire paraître un deuxième chant, dans un laps de temps qui ne soit pas trop retardé. La fin du dix-neuvième siècle verra son poète (cependant, au début, il ne doit pas commencer par un chef d’œuvre, mais suivre la loi de la nature) ; il est né sur les rives américaines, à l’embouchure de la Plata, là où deux peuples, jadis rivaux, s’efforcent actuellement de se surpasser par le progrès matériel et moral. Buenos-Ayres, la reine du Sud, et Montevideo, la coquette, se tendent une main amie, à travers les eaux argentines du grand estuaire. Mais, la guerre éternelle a placé son empire destructeur sur les campagnes, et moissonne avec joie des victimes nombreuses. Adieu, vieillard, et pense à moi, si tu m’as lu. Toi, jeune homme, ne désespère point ; car, tu as un ami dans le vampire, malgré ton opinion contraire. En comptant l’acarus sarcopte qui produit la gale, tu auras deux amis !

One day Wallace was fishing in the Irvine when Earl Percy, the governor of Ayr, rode past with a numerous train. Five of them remained behind and asked Wallace for the fish he had taken. He replied that they were welcome to half of them. Not satisfied with this, they seized the basket and prepared to carry it off. Wallace resisted, and one of them drew his sword. Wallace seized the staff of his net and struck his opponent's sword from his hand; this he snatched up and stood on guard, while the other four rushed upon him. Wallace smote the first so terrible a blow that his head was cloven from skull to collar-bone; with the next blow he severed the right arm of another, and then disabled a third. The other two fled, and overtaking the earl, called on him for help; "for," they said, "three of our number who stayed behind with us to take some fish from the Scot who was fishing are killed or disabled." How many were your assailants?" asked the earl. But the man himself," they answered; "a desperate fellow whom we could not withstand." I have a brave company of followers!" the earl said with scorn. "You allow one Scot to overmatch five of you! I shall not return to seek for your adversary; for were I to find him I should respect him too much to do him harm.

Comus. The Star that bids the Shepherd fold, Now the top of Heav'n doth hold, And the gilded Car of Day, [ 95 ] His glowing Axle doth allay In the steep Atlantick stream, And the slope Sun his upward beam Shoots against the dusky Pole, Pacing toward the other gole [ 100 ] Of his Chamber in the East. Mean while welcom Joy, and Feast, Midnight shout, and revelry, Tipsie dance and Jollity. Braid your Locks with rosie Twine [ 105 ] Dropping odours, dropping Wine. Rigor now is gone to bed, And Advice with scrupulous head, Strict Age, and sowre Severity, With their grave Saws in slumber ly. [ 110 ] We that are of purer fire Imitate the Starry Quire, Who in their nightly watchfull Sphears, Lead in swift round the Months and Years. The Sounds, and Seas with all their finny drove [ 115 ] Now to the Moon in wavering Morrice move, And on the Tawny Sands and Shelves, Trip the pert Fairies and the dapper Elves; By dimpled Brook, and Fountain brim, The Wood-Nymphs deckt with Daisies trim, [ 120 ] Their merry wakes and pastimes keep: What hath night to do with sleep? Night hath better sweets to prove, Venus now wakes, and wak'ns Love. Com let us our rights begin, [ 125 ] Tis onely day-light that makes Sin, Which these dun shades will ne're report. Hail Goddesse of Nocturnal sport Dark vaild Cotytto, t' whom the secret flame Of mid-night Torches burns; mysterious Dame [ 130 ] That ne're art call'd, but when the Dragon woom Of Stygian darknes spets her thickest gloom, And makes one blot of all the ayr, Stay thy cloudy Ebon chair, Wherin thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend [ 135 ] Us thy vow'd Priests, till utmost end Of all thy dues be done, and none left out, Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, The nice Morn on th' Indian steep From her cabin'd loop hole peep, [ 140 ] And to the tel-tale Sun discry Our conceal'd Solemnity. Com, knit hands, and beat the ground, In a light fantastick round.

They Should Have Asked My Husband You know this world is complicated, imperfect and oppressed And it’s not hard to feel timid, apprehensive and depressed. It seems that all around us tides of questions ebb and flow And people want solutions but they don’t know where to go. Opinions abound but who is wrong and who is right. People need a prophet, a diffuser of the light. Someone they can turn to as the crises rage and swirl. Someone with the remedy, the wisdom, and the pearl. Well . . . they should have asked my ‘usband, he’d have told’em then and there. His thoughts on immigration, teenage mothers, Tony Blair, The future of the monarchy, house prices in the south The wait for hip replacements, BSE and foot and mouth. Yes . . . they should have asked my husband he can sort out any mess He can rejuvenate the railways he can cure the NHS So any little niggle, anything you want to know Just run it past my husband, wind him up and let him go. Congestion on the motorways, free holidays for thugs The damage to the ozone layer, refugees and drugs. These may defeat the brain of any politician bloke But present it to my husband and he’ll solve it at a stroke. He’ll clarify the situation; he will make it crystal clear You’ll feel the glazing of your eyeballs, and the bending of your ear. Corruption at the top, he’s an authority on that And the Mafia, Gadafia and Yasser Arafat. Upon these areas he brings his intellect to shine In a great compelling voice that’s twice as loud as yours or mine. I often wonder what it must be like to be so strong, Infallible, articulate, self-confident …… and wrong. When it comes to tolerance – he hasn’t got a lot Joyriders should be guillotined and muggers should be shot. The sound of his own voice becomes like music to his ears And he hasn’t got an inkling that he’s boring us to tears. My friends don’t call so often, they have busy lives I know But its not everyday you want to hear a windbag suck and blow. Encyclopaedias, on them we never have to call Why clutter up the bookshelf when my husband knows it all!

He [Mr. Darcy] breathed in the deep smell of ink, paper, and leather; a scent that could always release the stress and anxiety of any situation and bring his mind to a peaceful place.

According to Dr. Ayres, “Over 80 percent of the nervous system is involved in processing or organizing sensory input, and thus the brain is primarily a sensory processing machine.

The vestibular system tells us about up and down and whether we are upright or not. It tells us where our heads and bodies are in relation to the earth’s surface. It sends sensory messages about balance and movement from the neck, eyes, and body to the CNS for processing and then helps generate muscle tone so we can move smoothly and efficiently. This sense tells us whether we are moving or standing still, and whether objects are moving or motionless in relation to our body. It also informs us what direction we are going in, and how fast we are going. This is extremely useful information should we need to make a fast getaway! Indeed, the fundamental functions of fight, flight, and foraging for food depend on accurate information from the vestibular system. Dr. Ayres writes that the “system has basic survival value at one of the most primitive levels, and such significance is reflected in its role in sensory integration.” The receptors for vestibular sensations are hair cells in the inner ear, which is like a “vestibule” for sensory messages to pass through. The inner-ear receptors work something like a carpenter’s level. They register every movement we make and every change in head position—even the most subtle. Some inner-ear structures receive information about where our head and body are in space when we are motionless, or move slowly, or tilt our head in any linear direction—forward, backward, or to the side. As an example of how this works, stand up in an ordinary biped, or two-footed, position. Now, close your eyes and tip your head way to the right. With your eyes closed, resume your upright posture. Open your eyes. Are you upright again, where you want to be? Your vestibular system did its job. Other structures in the inner ear receive information about the direction and speed of our head and body when we move rapidly in space, on the diagonal or in circles. Stand up and turn around in a circle or two. Do you feel a little dizzy? You should. Your vestibular system tells you instantly when you have had enough of this rotary stimulation. You will probably regain your balance in a moment. What stimulates these inner ear receptors? Gravity! According to Dr. Ayres, gravity is “the most constant and universal force in our lives.” It rules every move we make. Throughout evolution, we have been refining our responses to gravitational pull. Our ancient ancestors, the first fish, developed gravity receptors, on either side of their heads, for three purposes: 1) to keep upright, 2) to provide a sense of their own motions so they could move efficiently, and 3) to detect potentially threatening movements of other creatures through the vibrations of ripples in the water. Millions of years later, we still have gravity receptors to serve the same purposes—except now vibrations come through air rather than water.

what caused a law review article to be cited more or less. Fred and I collected citation information on all the articles published for fifteen years in the top three law reviews. Our central statistical formula had more than fifty variables. Like Epagogix, Fred and I found that seemingly incongruous things mattered a lot. Articles with shorter titles and fewer footnotes were cited significantly more, whereas articles that included an equation or an appendix were cited a lot less. Longer articles were cited more, but the regression formula predicted that citations per page peak for articles that were a whopping fifty-three pages long.

A Variation of Dr. Ayres’s “Four Levels of Sensory Integration” By the time a child is ready for preschool, the blocks for complex skill development should be in place. What are these blocks? • Ability to modulate touch sensations through the skin, especially unexpected, light touch, and to discriminate among the physical properties of objects by touching them (tactile sense), • Ability to adjust one’s body to changes in gravity, and to feel comfortable moving through space (vestibular sense), • Ability to be aware of one’s body parts (proprioceptive sense), • Ability to use the two sides of the body in a cooperative manner (bilateral coordination), and • Ability to interact successfully with the physical environment; to plan, organize, and carry out a sequence of unfamiliar actions; to do what one needs and wants to do (praxis).

Sensory Processing Disorder is difficulty in the way the brain takes in, organizes and uses sensory information, causing a person to have problems interacting effectively in the everyday environment. Sensory stimulation may cause difficulty in one’s movement, emotions, attention, or adaptive responses. SPD is an umbrella term covering several distinct disorders that affect how the child uses his senses. Having SPD does not imply brain damage or disease, but rather what Dr. Ayres called “indigestion of the brain,” or a “traffic jam in the brain.” Here is what may happen: • The child’s CNS may not receive or detect sensory information. • The brain may not integrate, modulate, organize, and discriminate sensory messages efficiently. • The disorganized brain may send out inaccurate messages to direct the child’s actions. Deprived of the accurate feedback he needs to behave in a purposeful way, he may have problems in looking and listening, paying attention, interacting with people and objects, processing new information, remembering, and learning.

Always remember, darling girl, men love the pussy and their dicks are always fiending for attention. If you’re not around to give it to them, they’ll get it somewhere else and the novelty of new lips and a new cunt might shock them so much they’ll think they’re in love.

In 1821, the United States government sent Dr. Eli Ayres to West Africa to buy, on what was known as the “Pepper Coast,” land that could be used as a colony for relocated slaves from America. He sailed to the location on the Mesurado River aboard the naval schooner USS Alligator, commanded by Lieutenant Robert Stockton. When they arrived, Stockton forced the sale of some land at gunpoint, from a local tribal chief named King Peter. Soon after this sale was consummated, returned slaves and their stores were landed as colonists on Providence and Bushrod Islands in the Montserado River. However, once the USS Alligator left the new colonists, they were confronted by King Peter and his tribe. It took some doing but on April 25, 1822 this group moved off the low lying, mosquito infested islands and took possession of the highlands behind Cape Montserado, thereby founding present day Monrovia. Named after U.S. President James Monroe, it became the second permanent African American settlement in Africa after Freetown, Sierra Leone. Thus the colony had its beginnings, but not without continuing problems with the local inhabitants who felt that they had been cheated in the forced property transaction. With the onset of the rainy season, disease, shortage of supplies and ongoing hostilities, caused the venture to almost fail. As these problems increased, Dr. Ayres wanted to retreat to Sierra Leone again, but Elijah Johnson an African American, who was one of the first colonial agents of the American Colonization Society, declared that he was there to stay and would never leave his new home. Dr. Eli Ayres however decided that enough was enough and left to return to the United States, leaving Elijah and the remaining settlers behind. The colony was nearly lost if it was not for the arrival of another ship, the U.S. Strong carrying the Reverent Jehudi Ashmun and thirty-seven additional emigrants, along with much needed stores. It didn’t take long before the settlement was identified as a “Little America” on the western coast of Africa. Later even the flag was fashioned after the American flag by seven women; Susannah Lewis, Matilda Newport, Rachel Johnson, Mary Hunter, J.B. Russwurm, Conilette Teage, and Sara Dripper. On August 24, 1847 the flag was flown for the first time and that date officially became known as “Flag Day.” With that a new nation was born!

When I say ‘capitalism,’ I mean a pure, uncontrolled, unregulated laissez-faire capitalism

A creative man is motivated by the desire to achieve,

Objectivism holds that the good must be defined by a rational standard of value, that pleasure is not a first cause, but only a consequence,

Your world is only the product of your sacrifices.

As man is a being of self-made wealth, so he is a being of self-made soul.

Happiness is that state of consciousness which proceeds from the achievement of one’s values.

This god, this one word: “I.

I am a trader. I earn what I get in trade for what I produce. I ask for nothing more or nothing less than what I earn. That is justice.

I have seen the Aurora Borealis twice in my life–once in Anchorage, Alaska while we were walking home from the bar our band was playing at; and the other time in Salmon Arm, BC (Notch Hill area), coming home from a gig we played in Armstrong–gigantic curtains of green and pink waved across the sky; it is a mighty sight to see. High-pitched ethereal tones shook me down to the soles of my feet. The experience filled me with longing and a desire to know about more universal things. It reminded me that the Source loves to dance, too.

But a hair salon? And not just any salon mind, but one called “Ayr Raising”. Doesnae inspire confidence in the establishment.’ ‘Could be worse,’ said West. ‘How on earth could it possibly be worse?’ ‘Could be called “Loch Tress”.’ ‘Dear God.’ ‘Lunatic Fringe.’ ‘Have you finished?’ ‘Hair of the dog.’ ‘I’m going inside.’ *

Like a hypnotist's pendulum, the spectacular chandelier swung to and fro, to and fro before playing tinkling tunes on its descent. Like the crescendo of crashing cymbals in Tchaikovsky’s ‘1812 Overture’, a dramatic finale ensued as it smashed to the ground.

Naples, however, did not need buskers: the cacophony of frenzied traffic made its own music with melodic beeping of horns in a repertoire of rhythms and beats reflecting drivers’ moods. Stravinsky might have composed the music as a choreographer might have choreographed the vehicles’ dances – zigzagging, twisting, turning, stopping and starting.

What is left is smell of coffee and our little conversations we used to speak about. I am left with the coffee you used to love affogato. With a novel you said I must buy you, I read Jane Ayre once an autumn gathering my pain to the seas of melancholy. Have you ever thought of dancing under the lame light? In this cafe I am left with conversations and smells of coffee and I still remember your smell vividly!

The spread of evil is the symptom of a vacuum; whenever evil wins, it is only by default: by the moral failure of whose who evade the fact that there can be no compromise on basic principles. Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal, 1966

65. The Works of John Jewel, ed. J. Ayre (Cambridge, P.S., 1845–50), i, p. 23; ii, p. 991; J. Hall, A Poesie in Forme of a Vision (1563), sig. Biiii; Scot, Discoverie, XV.xxxi; Josten, Ashmole, pp. 85, 88. For Abel as the inventor of magic, L. Thorndike in Mélanges Auguste Pelzer (Louvain, 1947), p. 241. For Solomon, G. Naudé, The History of Magick, trans. J. Davies (1657), pp. 279–82, and G. R. Owst in Studies presented to Sir Hilary Jenkinson, p. 286; Thomas Cromwell was believed to have a Solomon's ring (L.P., v, p. 696). On the Book of Enoch, Thorndike, Magic and Science, i, chap. 13, and on Moses's rod, above, p. 280. For the Book of Daniel, C. du F. Ducange, Glossarium (1884–7), s.v., ‘somnialia’. 66. Kittredge, Witchcraft, pp. 197–8; C. H. Poole, The Customs,

Goodwill is something that can never be bought.

swept throughout my body, and I found myself falling prey to Beau's animalistic urges.

Building a livable world isn't rocket science; it's far more complex than that." - Ed Ayres

Tracy pulled the pillow away from her face and stared up at the ceiling of her huge bedroom. Was that it, she wondered. Was Ross not satisfying his demanding wife in the one place where it really counted for a woman like her mother? In bed. Two weeks ago, in the middle of one of their pointless arguments Faye had shouted at Ross that he wasn’t a man. They’d been in the kitchen and Tracy remembered how she’d frozen at the counter, hardly daring to breathe. Her Daddy’s cheeks had turned white and then a furious shade of red. He’d taken a step toward Faye whose own face blanched as her eyes widened in fear. Even she had realized she’d gone too far. Ross had looked as if he was on the verge of punching his wife in the mouth but then, without another word, he’d turned and strode out of the house. It had been his turn to slam the door that time. He’d done it so hard Tracy could have sworn the whole house shook.

Atlas Okyanusu k›y›s›ndaki limanlar›n önem kazanmas›, Avrupa’n›n Osmanl› Devleti’ne ba¤›ml›l›¤›n› azaltm›flt›r. Avrupa d›fl›ndaki dünya zay›flarken Avrupa, her alanda güç kazanm›flt›r. Özellikle ‹spanyol ve Portekizliler genifl topraklar elde ederek ilk sömürge imparatorluklar›n›n temellerini bu yüzy›lda atm›fllard›r. Bu dönemde Avrupal› devletlerde zenginlik anlay›fl›, toprak sahibi olmak dü- flüncesinden, de¤erli madenlere sahip olmak düflüncesine dönüflmüfltür. Bu dü- flünce, ticaret yaparak bu de¤erleri kazanan ve flehirlerde yaflayan bir tüccarlar zümresinin, burjuvazinin ortaya ç›kmas›n› sa¤lam›flt›r. Avrupa toplumlar›nda meydana gelen de¤ifliklikler, büyük devletler aras›nda rekabetin do¤mas›na yol açm›fl ve bunlar›n daha zengin olma arzular›n› da kamç›lam›flt›r.Ayr›ca, ticari hayat›n geliflmesi de¤erli madenlere olan ihtiyac› da artt›rm›flt›r. Avrupa devletlerinde görülen geliflmeler, devletin

should run deeper than romantic feelings. God’s love never gives up, never fails, and never runs out on you. Remember that.