Blend With Nature Quotes

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I love being a pavement artist; seriously, I do. It's like when guys who would normally hate being freakishly tall discover basketball, or when girls with abnormally long fingers sit down at a piano. Blending in, going unseen, being a shadow in the sun is what I'm good at. Seeing the shadows, it turns out, is not my natural gift.
Ally Carter (Cross My Heart and Hope to Spy (Gallagher Girls, #2))
On no subject are our ideas more warped and pitiable than on death. ... Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life, and that the grave has no victory, for it never fights.
John Muir (A Thousand-Mile Walk to the Gulf)
What a lovely thing a rose is!" He walked past the couch to the open window and held up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in natural objects. "There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters. "It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our desires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have much to hope from the flowers.
Arthur Conan Doyle (The Naval Treaty)
Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement.
George Eliot (Adam Bede)
Our conscious motivations, ideas, and beliefs are a blend of false information, biases, irrational passions, rationalizations, prejudices, in which morsels of truth swim around and give the reassurance, albeit false, that the whole mixture is real and true. The thinking processes attempt to organize this whole cesspool of illusions according to the laws of plausibility. This level of consciousness is supposed to reflect reality; it is the map we use for organizing our life.
Erich Fromm (To Have or to Be? The Nature of the Psyche)
The passive American consumer, sitting down to a meal of pre-prepared food, confronts inert, anonymous substances that have been processed, dyed, breaded, sauced, gravied, ground, pulped, strained, blended, prettified, and sanitized beyond resemblance to any part of any creature that ever lived. The products of nature and agriculture have been made, to all appearances, the products of industry. Both eater and eaten are thus in exile from biological reality.
Wendell Berry
Your life is your artwork and you are to paint life as a beautiful struggle. With your brush, paint the colors of joy in vibrant shades of red. Color the sky a baby blue, a color as free as your heart. With rich, earthy tones shade the valleys that run deep into the ground where heaven meets hell. Life is as chaotic as the color black, a blend of all colors, and this makes life a beautiful struggle. Be grateful for the green that makes up the beautiful canvas, for nature has given you everything that you need to be happy. Most of all, don’t ever feel the need to fill the entire canvas with paint, for the places left blank are the most honest expressions of who you are.
Forrest Curran (Purple Buddha Project: Purple Book of Self-Love)
It’s like my entire conscious state has been reduced to this toxic blend of hope and uncertainty. I hate that I have to act cool and almost pretend I don’t like him when in fact I do, because, God forbid, I might come across as desperate for affection or a little clingy, which everyone should know are perfectly natural human behaviors, after all. Ugh!
Daria Snadowsky (Anatomy of a Boyfriend (Anatomy, #1))
Your true power is not in your difference, but in your consistency of being different. The world will always adjust to consistency, yet struggle with change.
Shannon L. Alder
You bathe in these spirit-beams, turning round and round, as if warming at a camp-fire. Presently you lose consciousness of your own separate existence: you blend with the landscape, and become part and parcel of nature.
John Muir (Wilderness Essays (Peregrine Smith Literary Naturalists))
True love can be overwhelming, and sometimes painful. It is a kaleidoscope of emotions, all sorts of different colours blending together into one. It's gravity so powerful - an unstoppable force. True love is a natural muse; you will puzzle over it, dream about it, and be lost in it. It consumes you wholeheartedly.
Angie karan
When we blend courage and compassion, assertiveness and gentleness, our essential strength and kindness support us in being where we are.
A.H. Almaas (The Unfolding Now: Realizing Your True Nature through the Practice of Presence)
Naturally the villagers blamed bears. No one had ever seen a bear in Gavaldon, but this made them more determined to find one. Four years later, when two more children vanished, the villagers admitted they should have been more specific and declared black bears the culprit, bears so black they blended with the night. But when children continued to disappear every four years, the village shifted their attention to burrowing bears, then phantom bears, then bears in disguise. . . Until it became clear it wasn't it wasn't bears at all.
Soman Chainani (The School for Good and Evil (The School for Good and Evil, #1))
And now the birds were singing overhead, and there was a soft rustling in the undergrowth, and all the sounds of the forest that showed that life was still being lived blended with the souls of the dead in a woodland requiem. The whole forest now sang for Granny Weatherwax.
Terry Pratchett
I heard a thousand blended notes While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man.
William Wordsworth (Lyrical Ballads)
Lines Written In Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure:-- But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there. If this belief from heaven be sent, If such be Nature's holy plan, Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man?
William Wordsworth
No one thing shows the greatness and power of the human intellect or the loftiness and nobility of man more than his ability to know and to understand fully and feel strongly his own smallness. When, in considering the multiplicity of worlds, he feels himself to be an infinitesimal part of a globe which itself is a negligible part of one of the infinite number of systems that go to make up the world, and in considering this is astonished by his own smallness, and in feeling it deeply and regarding it intently, virtually blends into nothing, and it is as if he loses himself in the immensity of things, and finds himself as though lost in the incomprehensible vastness of existence, with this single act of thought he gives the greatest possible proof of the nobility and immense capability of his own mind, which, enclosed in such a small and negligible being, has nonetheless managed to know and understand things so superior to his own nature, and to embrace and contain this same intensity of existence and things in his thought.
Giacomo Leopardi (Zibaldone di pensieri)
I had stopped my chair at that exact place, coming out, because right there the spice of wisteria that hung around the house was invaded by the freshness of apple blossoms in a blend that lifted the top of my head. As between those who notice such things and those who don't, I prefer those who do.
Wallace Stegner (Angle of Repose)
Clear your throat and open your eyes. You are on stage. The lights are on. It’s only natural if you’re sweating, because this isn’t make-believe. This is theater for keeps. Yes, it is a massive stage, and there are millions of others on stage with you. Yes, you can try to shake the fright by blending in. But it won’t work. You have the Creator God’s full attention, as much attention as He ever gave Napoleon. Or Churchill. Or even Moses. Or billions of others who lived and died unknown. Or a grain of sand. Or one spike on one snowflake. You are spoken. You are seen. It is your turn to participate in creation. Like a kindergartener shoved out from behind the curtain during his first play, you might not know which scene you are in or what comes next, but God is far less patronizing than we are. You are His art, and He has no trouble stooping. You can even ask Him for your lines.
N.D. Wilson (Death by Living: Life Is Meant to Be Spent)
The secret Order of Melchizedek can never appear in the physical world while humanity is constituted according to its present plan. It is the supreme Mystery School, and a few have reached the point where they have blended their divine and human natures so perfectly that they are symbolically two-headed. The heart and mind must be brought into perfect equilibrium before true thinking or true spirituality can be attained. The highest function of the mind is reason; the highest function of the heart is intuition, a sensing process not necessitating the normal working of the mind.
Manly P. Hall (Melchizedek and the Mystery of Fire)
In the most surreal, the most joyful, the most beautiful, the most intense, the most alive moments of life, you are absorbed into the horizon which is at its most invisible, elusive, perfect blend of sky and sea.
Connie Kerbs
He seemed like a walking blasphemy, a blend of the angel and the ape.
G.K. Chesterton (The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare)
Those who understand the complexities of human nature know that joy and pain, ugliness and beauty, love and hate, mercy and cruelty and other conflicting emotions often blend and cannot be separated from each other.
Isaac Bashevis Singer
The divine laws are quite simple - they state that every ending is the new beginning. This world isn't ruled only by two forces - the Creation and the Destruction. The third force - Transformation - the force of Nature, exists too, and is, in fact, the blend of the other two.
Tamuna Tsertsvadze (The Guardian Spirit (The Guardians of Nine Heavens 2))
There are two powerful fuels, two forces; motivation and inspiration. To be motivated you need to know what your motives are. Over time - and to sustain you through it - your motivation must become an inner energy; a 'motor' driving you forward, passionately, purposefully, wisely and compassionately... come what may, every day. Inspiration is an outer - worldly - energy that you breathe and draw in. It may come from many places, faces, spaces and stages - right across the ages. It is where nature, spirit, science, mind and time meet, dance, play and speak. It keeps you outward facing and life embracing. But you must be open-minded and open-hearted to first let it in and then let it out again. Together - blended, combined and re-entwined - motivation and inspiration bring connectivity, productivity, creativity and boundless possibilities that is not just 'self' serving but enriching to all humanity and societies...just as it should be.
Rasheed Ogunlaru
Nature did not blend things so inextricably that you can’t draw your own boundaries—place your own well-being in your own hands. It’s quite possible to be a good man without anyone realizing it. Remember that. And this too: you don’t need much to live happily. And just because you’ve abandoned your hopes of becoming a great thinker or scientist, don’t give up on attaining freedom, achieving humility, serving others, obeying God.
Marcus Aurelius (Meditations)
If the omnivore’s dilemma is to determine what is good and safe to eat amid the myriad and occasionally risky choices nature puts before us, then familiar flavor profiles can serve as a useful guide, a sensory signal of the tried and true. To an extent, these familiar blends of flavor take the place of the hardwired taste preferences that guide most other species in their food choices. They have instincts to steer them; we have cuisines.
Michael Pollan (Cooked: A Natural History of Transformation)
Rainbow the blend of bliss of colours!
Lailah Gifty Akita
When you love something like reading—or drawing or music or nature—it surrounds you with a sense of connection to something great. If you are lucky enough to know this, then your search for meaning involves whatever that Something is. It’s an alchemical blend of affinity and focus that takes us to a place within that feels as close as we ever get to “home.” It’s like pulling into our own train station after a long trip—joy, relief, a pleasant exhaustion.
Anne Lamott (Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair)
Down through the middle of the Valley flows the crystal Merced, River of Mercy, peacefully quiet, reflecting lilies and trees and the onlooking rocks; things frail and fleeting and types of endurance meeting here and blending in countless forms, as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her.
John Muir
Every spring in the wet meadows and ditches I hear a little shrilling chorus which sounds for all the world like an endlessly reiterated “We’re here, we’re here, we’re here.” And so they are, as frogs, of course. Confident little fellows. I suspect that to some greater ear than ours, man’s optimistic pronouncements about his role and destiny may make a similar little ringing sound that travels a small way out into the night. It is only its nearness that is offensive. From the heights of a mountain, or a marsh at evening, it blends, not too badly, with all the other sleepy voices that, in croaks or chirrups, are saying the same thing.
Loren Eiseley (The Immense Journey: An Imaginative Naturalist Explores the Mysteries of Man and Nature)
To follow our bliss and dive deeply into the mysteries of fragrance, color, and taste; blend with the magnificent diversity of mother nature; and follow the inner signs to become aware of who we really are - is the Alchemy of Ayurvedic Cookery
Prana Gogia
I am trying to explain as quickly as possible my essential nature, that is, what manner of man I am, what I believe in, and for what I hope, that's it, isn't it? And therefore I tell you that I accept God honestly and simply. But you must note this: If God exists and if He really did create the world, then, as we all know, He created it according to the geometry of only three dimensions in space. Yet there have been some very distinguished ones, who doubt whether the whole universe, or to speak more generally the whole of being, was only created in Euclid's geometry; they even dare to dream that two parallel lines, which according to Euclid can never meet on earth, may meet somewhere in infinity. I have come to the conclusion that, since I can't understand even that, I can't expect to understand about God. I acknowledge humbly that I have no faculty for settling such questions, I have a Euclidian earthly mind, and how could I solve problems that are not of this world? And I advise you never to think about it either, my dear Alyosha, especially about God, whether He exists or not. All such questions are utterly inappropriate for a mind created with a conception of only three dimensions. And so I accept God and am glad to, and what's more I accept His wisdom, His purpose - which are utterly beyond our ken; I believe in the underlying order and the meaning of life; I believe in the eternal harmony in which they say we shall one day be blended. I believe in the Word to Which the universe is striving, and Which Itself was "with God", and Which Itself is God and so on, and so on, to infinity.
Fyodor Dostoevsky (The Brothers Karamazov)
The silvered glamour of the Woman of the Winter Moon may be woman in her greatest power, woman in her guise as Elemental, as Force of Nature. This is woman to be revered. She is a concentration of feminine wisdom gathered and concentrated over the years, blended with the astral knowledge of the soul-star, and blessed by the traditions of the Sacred Feminine that she has made herself, or resurrected from Time, and passed living and intact to her daughters.
Elizabeth S. Eiler (Singing Woman: Voices of the Sacred Feminine)
Let me make a clean breast of it here, and frankly admit that I kept but sorry guard. With the problem of the universe revolving in me, how could I- being left completely to myself at such a thought-engendering altitude- how could I but lightly hold my obligations to observe all whaleships' standing orders, "Keep your weather eye open, and sing out every time." And let me in this place movingly admonish you, ye ship-owners of Nantucket! Beware of enlisting in your vigilant fisheries any lad with lean brow and hollow eye; given to unseasonable meditativeness...: your whales must be seen before they can be killed; and this sunken-eyed young Platonist will tow you ten wakes round the world, and never make you one pint of sperm the richer. Nor are these monitions at all unneeded. For nowadays, the whale-fishery furnishes an asylum for many romantic, melancholy, and absent-minded young men, disgusted with the corking care of earth, and seeking sentiment in tar and blubber. Childe Harold not unfrequently perches himself upon the mast-head of some luckless disappointed whale-ship, and in moody phrase ejaculates:- "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand blubber-hunters sweep over thee in vain. " ... "Why, thou monkey," said a harpooneer to one of these lads, "we've been cruising now hard upon three years, and thou hast not raised a whale yet. Whales are scarce as hen's teeth whenever thou art up here." Perhaps they were; or perhaps there might have been shoals of them in the far horizon; but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it. In this enchanted mood, thy spirit ebbs away to whence it came; becomes diffused through time and space; like Crammer's sprinkled Pantheistic ashes, forming at last a part of every shore the round globe over. There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gentle rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at midday, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!
Herman Melville (Moby Dick)
The energies that make us act out of anger,fear,insecurity and doubt are extremely familiar. They are like an old,dark house we return to whenever things get too hard to handle.It feels risky to leave this house and see what's outside,yet we have to leave if we expect to be loved. So we take the risk.We walk out into the light and offer ourselves to the beloved.This feels wonderful;it's like nothing we have imagined in our old,dark house.But when things get tough,we run back inside,we choose familiarity to fear and lovelessness over the vulnerability of love, until finally we feel safe enough to go back and try love again. This is essentially the rhythm of every intimate relationship-risk and retreat. Over and over we repeat this rhythm,accepting love and pushing it away until finally something miraculous happiness. The old,dark house isn't necessary anymore.We look around, and we have a new house, a house of light. Where did it come from?How did we build it? It was built from the love of the heart.It has silently been weaving our higher and lower natures,blending fear,anger,survival and protection into the energies of devotion,trust,compassion and acceptance.
Deepak Chopra (The Path to Love: Spiritual Strategies for Healing)
Be a constant student of life; See the Divine in Nature and Nature in the Divine; Not say a word and be clearly heard; Lead without force and teach without pride; Take the most mundane things and surroundings, sense their inner magick and be able to open that window for others; Stare into the dark infinity of the night sky and feel it as an awesome source; Love the beauty of paradox and always be able to see the cosmic humor in the darkest times; Be a shapeshifter to blend in or be invisible if needed… and make those around feel safe, and heard; Maintain his calm center and clear mind when all about him is chaos; Open his inner eyes and really see; Say “I don’t know…” and realize that is great wisdom, that is okay; Have compassion for all beings, and know when to be a healer and when to be a witness; Know that the secrets of magick are bestowed upon the open-hearted; Speak to the Gods and know he is heard; Cast a sphere of protection and light; Make up his own mind, walk his own path and never follow another blindly; Know the courage and power of nonviolence and the swift strength of a keen mind; Conjure a tale or myth that the moment requires to be understood; Know the plants and creatures of the wild enough to call them friends and allies; See the God and Goddess within all and everyone; Have a spirit that glows in the dark. —Katlyn Breene
Oberon Zell-Ravenheart (Grimoire for the Apprentice Wizard)
The Kurds know—and never for a moment forget—what most people in the world have never understood. The nation of Iraq is not a centuries-old country with natural boundaries and an organically blended population. Instead, Iraq is a structure of artificial boundaries and unnaturally combined tribes and religions conceived by Europeans just after World War
Stephen Mansfield (The Miracle of the Kurds: A Remarkable Story of Hope Reborn In Northern Iraq)
Was the human nature of the Son of Mary changed into the divine nature of the Son of God? No; the two natures were mysteriously blended in one person—the man Christ Jesus. In
Ellen G. White (Bible Study Guide The Book of Matthew Ellen G. White Notes 2Q 2016)
Humanism is not a single character. It is a magnificent blend of various emotional and behavioral traits that are unique to the human mind.
Abhijit Naskar (The Islamophobic Civilization: Voyage of Acceptance)
eyes gazing out of teacups, eyes blended into nature, eyes appearing in the cracks of sandstone chimneys…
Darcy Coates (Dead Lake)
Then I get up and turn on the light. (Did anyone notice I was in here in the dark? Did they see the lack of light under the crack and notice it like a roach? Did Nia see?) Then I look in the mirror. I look so normal. I look like I’ve always looked, like I did before the fall of last year. Dark hair and dark eyes and one snaggled tooth. Big eyebrows that meet in the middle. A long nose, sort of twisted. Pupils that are naturally large—it’s not the pot—which blend into the dark brown to make two big saucer eyes, holes in me. Wisps of hair above my upper lip. This is Craig.
Ned Vizzini (It's Kind of a Funny Story)
I suppose people who graduate from very selective and expensive colleges, and receive immense reinforcement from colleagues who preceded them there, develop an inflated sense of their ability to effectively manage things, especially complex things. Many of these young, bright people cannot believe that our creaking and foundering systems won't yield to their managerial tinkering, and the net effect must be to turn them into very cynical careerists with nothing left but personal ladder-climbing and wealth accumulation... The political left in America makes up in cynical cowardly avarice for all the mendacious stupidity on the political right, so we end up at this moment in history with a perfect blend of every bad impulse in human nature and none of the virtues.
James Howard Kunstler
If I collected dust, I wouldn’t mind if I got dust on it. My collection would grow and accumulate naturally. Probably my love would blend in with it as well, since I haven’t used it in so long.
Jarod Kintz (This Book is Not for Sale)
Waiting for the end, boys, waiting for the end. What is there to be or do? What's become of me or you? Are we kind or are we true? Sitting two and two, boys, waiting for the end. Shall I build a tower, boys, knowing it will rend Crack upon the hour, boys, waiting for the end? Shall I pluck a flower, boys, shall I save or spend? All turns sour, boys, waiting for the end. Shall I send a wire, boys? Where is there to send? All are under fire, boys, waiting for the end. Shall I turn a sire, boys? Shall I choose a friend? The fat is in the pyre, boys, waiting for the end. Shall I make it clear, boys, for all to apprehend, Those that will not hear, boys, waiting for the end, Knowing it is near, boys, trying to pretend, Sitting in cold fear, boys, waiting for the end? Shall we send a cable, boys, accurately penned, Knowing we are able, boys, waiting for the end, Via the Tower of Babel, boys? Christ will not ascend. He's hiding in his stable, boys, waiting for the end. Shall we blow a bubble, boys, glittering to distend, Hiding from our trouble, boys, waiting for the end? When you build on rubble, boys, Nature will append Double and re-double, boys, waiting for the end. Shall we make a tale, boys, that things are sure to mend, Playing bluff and hale, boys, waiting for the end? It will be born stale, boys, stinking to offend, Dying ere it fail, boys, waiting for the end. Shall we go all wild, boys, waste and make them lend, Playing at the child, boys, waiting for the end? It has all been filed, boys, history has a trend, Each of us enisled, boys, waiting for the end. What was said by Marx, boys, what did he perpend? No good being sparks, boys, waiting for the end. Treason of the clerks, boys, curtains that descend, Lights becoming darks, boys, waiting for the end. Waiting for the end, boys, waiting for the end. Not a chance of blend, boys, things have got to tend. Think of those who vend, boys, think of how we wend, Waiting for the end, boys, waiting for the end. - 'Just A Smack at Auden
William Empson (The Complete Poems)
Man follows Earth, Earth follows Heaven. Heaven follows the Tao. Yet the Tao follows Nature. Tao produced one. One produced two. Two produced Three. Three produced ten thousand beings. Ten thousand beings carry yin and embrace yang; By blending their energies they achieve harmony. Therefore existence and nonexistence produce each other. Difficulty and ease complement each other. Long and short contrast with each other. High and low rely on each other. Sound and voice harmonize with each other. Front and back follow each other. The Tao fulfills its purpose quietly and makes no claim. When success is achieved, withdrawing. The highest good is like water. Water benefits ten thousand beings, Yet it does not contend. Nothing under Heaven is as soft and yielding as water. Yet in attacking the firm and strong, Nothing is better than water.
Alfred Huang (The Complete I Ching: The Definitive Translation)
I forced myself to let my belly relax into a deeper breath. I closed my eyes and felt the solidity of the pavement beneath my feet and the rock beneath that, felt the density of the earth hugging me to it, felt it spinning on its axis, felt it hurtling through space in its trip around the sun, felt th solar system whirling through space as part of our galaxy, felt the flight of galaxies escaping from the site of that primal explosion we call the big bang. Always in times of stress, if I contemplated the vastness of the universe, I did in some measure relax, comforted by the knowledge that I was but a small speck in creation after all, a mote in the enormity of God's eye, a fleeting arrangement of atoms that would in due time cycle back into the earth from which I had come and be reshuffled into something else, blended back into the grace of the natural world. In my very insignificance did I find my immortality. pp 113-114
Sarah Andrews (Bone Hunter (Em Hansen Mystery, #5))
And I learned this long ago, that sweet freedom can be found in the middle of a meadow, upon the back of a faithful mare. Careless and wild we both shall be, on our ride across familiar fields, with steps that blend into the earth below.
Erin Forbes
When the full-grown poet came, Out spake pleased Nature (the round impassive globe, with all its shows of day and night,) saying, He is mine; But out spake too the Soul of man, proud, jealous and unreconciled, Nay, he is mine alone; — Then the full-grown poet stood between the two, and took each by the hand; And to-day and ever so stands, as blender, uniter, tightly holding hands, Which he will never release until he reconciles the two, And wholly and joyously blends them.
Walt Whitman (Selected Poems)
A month ago it would have been my dream just to be in his bedroom watching a movie, but now it’s torture because I want so much more. It’s like my entire conscious state has been reduced to this toxic blend of hope and uncertainty. I hate that I have to act cool and almost pretend I don’t like him when in fact I do, because, God forbid, I come across as desperate for attention or a little clingy, which everyone should know are perfectly natural human behaviors, after all. Ugh!
Daria Snadowsky (Anatomy of a Boyfriend (Anatomy, #1))
When I think of it as happening to somebody else, it seems that the idea of me soaked to the skin, surrounded by countless driving streaks of silver, and moving through when I completely forget my material existence, and view myself from a purely objective standpoint, can I, as a figure in a painting, blend into the beautiful harmony of my natural surroundings. The moment, however, I feel annoyed because of the rain, or miserable because my legs are weary because of the rain, or miserable because my legs are weary with walking, then I have already ceased to be a character in a poem, or a figure in a painting, and I revert to the uncomprehending, insensitive man in the street I was before. I am then even blind to the elegance of the fleeting clouds; unable even to feel any bond of sympathy with a falling petal or the cry of a bird, much less appreciate the great beauty in the image of myself, completely alone, walking through the mountains in spring.
Natsume Sōseki (The Three-Cornered World)
The arrival of Christianity in Ireland brought with it the painful disconnection from the earth that still resonates today. Until then, people lived in harmony with nature. The power and importance of the land was understood and respected. For Christians, this life on earth was only a preparation for the next life. They believed it was acceptable to use and abuse the land as much as we liked in order to achieve our goals in the next life. The pagan religions, however, were deeply ingrained in Ireland, so the clever Christians knew that enforcing their beliefs with brute force wouldn’t work there. In order to facilitate their slow and insidious takeover, they blended the Christian religion with the native earth-based faith, eventually nearly rooting it out, but not completely.
Mary Reynolds (The Garden Awakening: Designs to nurture our land and ourselves)
1 handful fresh or frozen cranberries 2 cups water 8 teaspoons erythritol (a naturally derived low-calorie sweetener; read more about erythritol and other sweeteners in part 2) Place all the ingredients in a blender and blend at high speed. Pour over ice and serve.
Michael Greger (How Not to Die: Discover the Foods Scientifically Proven to Prevent and Reverse Disease)
The Great Pyramid was a fractal resonator for the entire Earth. It is designed according to the proportions of the cosmic temple, the natural pattern that blends the two fundamental principles of creation. The pyramid has golden ratio, pi, the base of natural logarithms, the precise length of the year and the dimensions of the Earth built into its geometry. It demonstrates.... As John Michell has pointed out in his wonderful little book, City of Revelation, 'Above all, the Great Pyramid is a monument to the art of 'squaring the circle''.
Alison Charlotte Primrose (The Lamb Slain With A Golden Cut: Spiritual Enlightenment and the Golden Mean Revelation)
A feeling of superiority counteracts imitation. Had the millions of immigrants who came to this country been superior people—the cream of the countries they came from—there would have been not one U.S.A. but a mosaic of lingual and cultural groups. It was due to the fact that the majority of the immigrants were of the lowest and the poorest, the despised and the rejected, that the heterogeneous millions blended so rapidly and thoroughly. They came here with the ardent desire to shed their old world identity and be reborn to a new life; and they were automatically equipped with an unbounded capacity to imitate and adopt the new. The strangeness of the new country attracted rather than repelled them. They craved a new identity and a new life—and the stranger the new world the more it suited their inclination.
Eric Hoffer (The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements)
I have a system with bathrooms. I spend a lot of time in them. They are sanctuaries, public places of peace spaced throughout the world for people like me. When I pop into Aaron’s, I continue my normal routine of wasting time. I turn the light off first. Then I sigh. Then I turn around, face the door I just closed, pull down my pants, and fall on the toilet— I don’t sit; I fall like a carcass, feeling my butt accommodate the rim. Then I put my head in my hands and breathe out as I, well, y’know, piss. I always try to enjoy it, to feel it come out and realize that it’s my body doing something it has to do, like eating, although I’m not too good at that. I bury my face in my hands and wish that it could go on forever because it feels good. You do it and it’s done. It doesn’t take any effort or any planning. You don’t put it off. That would be really screwed up, I think. If you had such problems that you didn’t pee. Like being anorexic, except with urine. If you held it in as self-punishment. I wonder if anyone does that? I finish up and flush, reaching behind me, my head still down. Then I get up and turn on the light. (Did anyone notice I was in here in the dark? Did they see the lack of light under the crack and notice it like a roach? Did Nia see?) Then I look in the mirror. I look so normal. I look like I’ve always looked, like I did before the fall of last year. Dark hair and dark eyes and one snaggled tooth. Big eyebrows that meet in the middle. A long nose, sort of twisted. Pupils that are naturally large—it’s not the pot— which blend into the dark brown to make two big saucer eyes, holes in me. Wisps of hair above my upper lip. This is Craig. And I always look like I’m about to cry. I put on the hot water and splash it at my face to feel something. In a few seconds I’m going to have to go back and face the crowd. But I can sit in the dark on the toilet a little more, can’t I? I always manage to make a trip to the bathroom take five minutes.
Ned Vizzini (It's Kind of a Funny Story)
One morning she at last succeeded in helping him to the foot of the steps, trampling down the grass before him with her feet, and clearing a way for him through the briars, whose supple arms barred the last few yards. Then they slowly entered the wood of roses. It was indeed a very wood, with thickets of tall standard roses throwing out leafy clumps as big as trees, and enormous rose bushes impenetrable as copses of young oaks. Here, formerly, there had been a most marvellous collection of plants. But since the flower garden had been left in abandonment, everything had run wild, and a virgin forest had arisen, a forest of roses over-running the paths, crowded with wild offshoots, so mingled, so blended, that roses of every scent and hue seemed to blossom on the same stem. Creeping roses formed mossy carpets on the ground, while climbing roses clung to others like greedy ivy plants, and ascended in spindles of verdure, letting a shower of their loosened petals fall at the lightest breeze. Natural paths coursed through the wood — narrow footways, broad avenues, enchanting covered walks in which one strolled in the shade and scent. These led to glades and clearings, under bowers of small red roses, and between walls hung with tiny yellow ones. Some sunny nooks gleamed like green silken stuff embroidered with bright patterns; other shadier corners offered the seclusion of alcoves and an aroma of love, the balmy warmth, as it were, of a posy languishing on a woman’s bosom. The rose bushes had whispering voices too. And the rose bushes were full of songbirds’ nests. ‘We must take care not to lose ourselves,’ said Albine, as she entered the wood. ‘I did lose myself once, and the sun had set before I was able to free myself from the rose bushes which caught me by the skirt at every step.’ They had barely walked a few minutes, however, before Serge, worn out with fatigue, wished to sit down. He stretched himself upon the ground, and fell into deep slumber. Albine sat musing by his side. They were on the edge of a glade, near a narrow path which stretched away through the wood, streaked with flashes of sunlight, and, through a small round blue gap at its far end, revealed the sky. Other little paths led from the clearing into leafy recesses. The glade was formed of tall rose bushes rising one above the other with such a wealth of branches, such a tangle of thorny shoots, that big patches of foliage were caught aloft, and hung there tent-like, stretching out from bush to bush. Through the tiny apertures in the patches of leaves, which were suggestive of fine lace, the light
Émile Zola (Delphi Complete Works of Emile Zola)
Once you start rummaging around in the realm of the unverifiable there is considerable room for creativity, and accusations of sorcery are often blended with self-serving motives. Tribal people, anthropologists have shown, often single out despised in-laws for allegations of witchcraft, a convenient
Steven Pinker (The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined)
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I was from birth an object of mild ridicule because of my movements - especially the perpetual flutter of my hands - and my voice. Like the voices of a number of homosexuals, this is an insinuating blend of eagerness and caution in which even such words as "hello" and "goodbye" seem not so much uttered as divulged. But these natural outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual disgrace were not enough. People could say that I was ignorant of them or was trying without success to hide them. I wanted it to be known that I was not ashamed and therefore had to display symptoms that could not be thought to be accidental.
Quentin Crisp (The Naked Civil Servant)
Lulled into such an opium-like state of listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of the waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature.
Herman Melville
It was likely her due, then, that a familiar voice halted her progress just as she started to ascend the staircase. “You’ve certainly turned the afternoon on its head.” Lucas regarded her with a wry smile from the first landing, his thick brown hair blending into an exceptionally large portrait of Gravethorne’s favorite hounds. “How does it feel to be the most notorious debutante in London?” Sparring with Lucas Bellamy held little appeal to her at the moment, but Amy was incapable of letting a jab go unanswered. She gripped the decorative knob on the newel post and lifted her chin. “Slightly inconvenienced yet decidedly more powerful, I think.
Rachel Pierson (Ruined By Nature)
Alice came upon treasure after treasure: everlasting daisies in pastel pinks and yellows, trails of grey and white feathers, boughs heavy with blossom buds on the gum trees. She breathed in the warm earth and appreciated the sky, a blend of soldier-crab blue and every shade of purple in a pipi shell. The desert's an old dream of the sea.
Holly Ringland (The Lost Flowers of Alice Hart)
One day, soon after her disappearance, an attack of abominable nausea forced me to pull up on the ghost of an old mountain road that now accompanied, now traversed a brand new highway, with its population of asters bathing in the detached warmth of a pale-blue afternoon in late summer. After coughing myself inside out I rested a while on a boulder and then thinking the sweet air might do me good, walked a little way toward a low stone parapet on the precipice side of the highway. Small grasshoppers spurted out of the withered roadside weeds. A very light cloud was opening its arms and moving toward a slightly more substantial one belonging to another, more sluggish, heavenlogged system. As I approached the friendly abyss, I grew aware of a melodious unity of sounds rising like vapor from a small mining town that lay at my feet, in a fold of the valley. One could make out the geometry of the streets between blocks of red and gray roofs, and green puffs of trees, and a serpentine stream, and the rich, ore-like glitter of the city dump, and beyond the town, roads crisscrossing the crazy quilt of dark and pale fields, and behind it all, great timbered mountains. But even brighter than those quietly rejoicing colors - for there are colors and shades that seem to enjoy themselves in good company - both brighter and dreamier to the ear than they were to the eye, was that vapory vibration of accumulated sounds that never ceased for a moment, as it rose to the lip of granite where I stood wiping my foul mouth. And soon I realized that all these sounds were of one nature, that no other sounds but these came from the streets of the transparent town, with the women at home and the men away. Reader! What I heard was but the melody of children at play, nothing but that, and so limpid was the air that within this vapor of blended voices, majestic and minute, remote and magically near, frank and divinely enigmatic - one could hear now and then, as if released, an almost articulate spurt of vivid laughter, or the crack of a bat, or the clatter of a toy wagon, but it was all really too far for the eye to distinguish any movement in the lightly etched streets. I stood listening to that musical vibration from my lofty slope, to those flashes of separate cries with a kind of demure murmur for background, and then I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita's absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that concord.
Vladimir Nabokov (Lolita)
Man is an element of all-living nature that rises in rebellion against nature. He will pay for this defiance with his life. Through this act of defiance, man distinguishes himself from all other living things, which as pure nature are blended into the tapestry of the natural universe. Mankind is the hero of this tragedy, world history the final act of the tragedy itself.
Oswald Spengler (Urfragen: Fragmente aus dem Nachlaß)
The literal meaning of guru yoga is ‘union with the teacher´s nature’. To blend your mind with the teacher’s mind is the most profound of all practices, and the shortest path of realization. It is the life force of the path and the one practice that includes all others. It was through relying on a spiritual teacher that all the bodhisattvas of the past generated the mind of enlightenment and reached perfection.
Dilgo Khyentse (The Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones: The Practice of View, Meditation, and Action: A Discourse Virtuous in the Beginning, Middle, and End)
The brain is a highly connected and interconnected organ, but the activation of those connections are constantly shifting. The great neurobiologist Sir Charles Sherrington, in his Gifford lectures titled Man on His Nature, described the brain as "an enchanted loom where millions of flashing shuttles weave a dissolving pattern, always a meaningful pattern though never an abiding one; a shifting harmony of subpatterns.
Gilles Fauconnier (The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending and The Mind's Hidden Complexities)
Remarks on My Character Waving a flag I retreat a long way beyond any denial, all the way over the scorched earth, and come into an arching grove of evasions, onto those easy paths, one leading to another and covered ever deeper with shade: I'll never dare the sun again, that I can promise. It is time to practice the shrug: "Don't count on me." Or practice the question that drags its broken wing over the ground and leads into the swamp where vines trip anyone in a hurry, and a final dark pool waits for you to stare at yourself while shadows move closer over your shoulder. That's my natural place; I can live where the blurred faces peer back at me. I like the way they blend, and no one is ever sure itself or likely to settle in unless you scare off the others. Afraid but so deep no one can follow, I steal away there, holding my arms like a tree.
William Stafford
To accomplish this herculean feat, governmental bodies captured the legal power to intrude on human affairs in the hope of fixing man’s flawed nature, as though mankind were destined to live on a sterilized Planet Clorox, a land where everything could be made not only perfectly clean but free of risks. Governmental power was bulked up to launch a toxic blend of utopian and draconian measures to outlaw poverty, inequality, and injustice—supposedly. This socioeconomic jihad against liberty emerged after adherents of state-enhanced liberalism revised their ideological arsenal to include ‘positive rights.
L.K. Samuels (Killing History: The False Left-Right Political Spectrum and the Battle between the 'Free Left' and the 'Statist Left')
In my body were many bloods, some dark blood, all blended in the fire of six or more generations. I was, then, either a new type of man or the very oldest. In any case I was inescapably myself. . . . If I achieved greatness of human stature, then just to the degree that I did I would justify all the blood in me. If I proved worthless, then I would betray all. In my own mind I could not see the dark blood as something quite different and apart. But if people wanted to say this dark blood was Negro blood and if they then wanted to call me a Negro - this was up to them. Fourteen years of my life I had lived in the white group, four years I had lived in the colored group. In my experience there had been no main difference between the two. But if people wanted to isolate and fasten on those four years and to say that therefore I was colored, this too was up to them. . . .I determined what I would do. To my real friends of both groups, I would, at the right time, voluntarily define my position. As for people at large, naturally I would go my way and say nothing unless the question was raised. If raised, I would meet it squarely, going into as much detail as seemed desirable for the occasion. Or again, if it was not the person's business I would either tell him nothing or the first nonsense that came into my head.
Jean Toomer
Neither is a memoir the same as a biography, which aims for the most objective, factual account of a life. A memoir, as I understand it, makes no pretense of denying its subjectivity. Its matter is one person’s memory, and memory by nature is selective and colored by emotion. Others who participated in the events I describe will no doubt remember some details differently, though I hope we would agree on the essential truths. I have taken no liberties with the past as I remember it, used no fictional devices beyond reconstructing conversations from memory. I have not blended characters, or bent chronology to convenience. And yet I have tried to tell a good story.
Sonia Sotomayor (My Beloved World)
BREATHE Mindful breathing is a basic wonderful pleasure for life. Breathing calms our body and mind to unify our soul within the present moment. Breathing is a supreme gift from Mother Nature, giving universal pranic energy which one guides within. BELIEVE Intentions, wishes and dreams can come true. Not necessarily all at once, but herein lies the splendour of life’s journey. The secret tonic to success is belief and imagination, blended with confidence to open your heart and follow your dreams. BE Savadhyaya is the practice of inward reflection, honest self-observation and learning. Whatever you do, wherever you are, find contentment and simply be there, because that’s exactly where you need to be.
The technological primacy of Western civilization, it can be argued, owes a sizeable debt to the fact that in Europe recourse to magic was to prove less ineradicable than in other parts of the world.61 For this, intellectual and religious factors have been held primarily responsible. The rationalist tradition of classical antiquity blended with the Christian doctrine of a single all-directing Providence to produce what Weber called ‘the disenchantment of the world’ – the conception of an orderly and rational universe, in which effect follows cause in predictable manner. A religious belief in order was a necessary prior assumption upon which the subsequent work of the natural scientists was to be founded. It was a favourable mental environment which made possible the triumph of technology.
Keith Thomas (Religion and the Decline of Magic: Studies in Popular Beliefs in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century England)
But the relationship between the between the two cultural paradigms has always been a dialectical, not cyclical. The romantics were not repeating their ancestors. On the contrary, they brought about a cultural revolution comparable in its radicalism and effects with the roughly contemporary American, French, and Industrial Revolutions. By destroying natural law and by reorienting concern from the work to the artist they tore up the old regime's aesthetic rule book just as thoroughly as any Jacobin [a 18th century political French club] tore down social institutions. In the words of Ernst Troeltsch: "Romanticism too is a revolution, a thorough and genuine revolution: a revolution against the respectability of the bourgeois temper and against a universal equalitarian ethic: a revolution, above all, against the whole of the mathematico-mechanical spirit of science in western Europe, against a conception of Natural Law which sought to blend utility with morality, against the bare abstraction of a universal and equal Humanity." [Unquote Troeltsch] As will be argued in the subsequent chapters, it was Hegel who captured the essence of this revolution in his pithy definition of romanticism as "absolute inwardness" [absloute Innerlichkeit - in German - אינערליכקייט]. It will also be argued that its prophet was Jean-Jacques Rousseau: if not the most consistent, then certainly the most influential of all the eighteenth-century thinkers. Writing in 1907, Lytton Strachey caught Rousseau's special quality very well: "Among those quick, strong, fiery people of the eighteenth century, he belonged to another world -- to the new world of self-consciousness, and doubt, and hesitation, of mysterious melancholy and quiet intimate delights, of long reflexions amid the solitudes of Nature, of infinite introspections amid the solitudes of the heart." Percy Bysshe Shelley, who derided the philosophes as "mere reasoners," regarded Rousseau as "a great poet.
Timothy C.W. Blanning (The Romantic Revolution)
Let's look at one more quick example of modern evolution at work. In the early 1800s, light-colored lichens covered many of the trees in the English countryside. The peppered moth was a light-colored insect that blended in unnoticeably with the lichens. Predators had great difficulty distinguishing the peppered moth from its background environment, so the moths easily survived and reproduced. Then the Industrial Revolution came to the English country- side. Coal-burning factories turned the lichens a sooty black. The light-colored peppered moth became clearly visible. Most of them were eaten. But because of genetic variation and mutation, a few peppered moths displayed a slightly darker color. These darker moths were better able to blend in with the sooty lichens, and so lived to produce other darker-colored moths. In little over a hun- dred years, successive generations of peppered moths evolved from almost completely white to completely black. Natural selec- tion, rather than "random accident," guided the moth's evolution- ary progress.
David Mills (Atheist Universe: The Thinking Person's Answer to Christian Fundamentalism)
Lougarry was waiting over the brow of the hill, lying so still in the grass that a butterfly had perched within an inch of her nose. The stems bent and shimmered as she rose to her feet, and the butterfly floated away like a wind-borne petal. Fern wondered if , like Ragginbone, the she-wolf possessed the faculty of making herself at one with her surroundings, not invisible but transmuted, so close to nature that she could blend with it at will and be absorbed into its many forms, becoming grass blade and wildflower, still earth and moving air, resuming her true self at the prompting of a thought. It came to Fern that we are all part of one vast pattern of Being, the real world and the shadow-world, sunlight and werelight, Man and spirit, and to understand and accept that was the first step toward the abnegation of ego, the affirmation of the soul. To comprehend the wind, not as a movement of molecules but as the pulse of the air, the pulse of her pulse, was to become the wind, to blow with it through the dancing grasses to the edge of the sky...
Jan Siegel (Prospero's Children)
A BATH   Sitting in the bath with her I carefully remove the paint from her shoulders to her elbows, creating the kind of memory that I will never forget. She takes her turn removing as much paint from off me as she can. The entire bar of soap is slowly reduced to a nib successfully loosening all of the paint from our wet bodies. The colors and suds slip through my hands and fingers as I move across the canvas of her slender physique. The vibrant colors eventually become more muddied as they blend together, sliding off of her and down into the drain. Gripping at her body has never felt so natural––almost sculptural like, gliding across the smoothness of the human medium that captivates me so. She too takes the initiative of making sure that I am washed clean as she feels for me and any dirty thing left clinging to me. Her hands slip passed the ridges of my rib as if to remember, the way that moisture catches between the shapes that mark a turtles back. Her eyes now watch me the way that nature studies her curious guest who seeks for himself the origin of his creation.
Luccini Shurod
Egocentrism is the problem, then, not Egos. Egocentric people are agents for themselves only (and perhaps also for their immediate families), without awareness of or tending of the social and natural environments that sustain their lives. Their consciousness is Ego-centered. A person with a healthy, mature Ego, in contrast, is ecocentric; she understands herself as, first and foremost, an agent for (the health of) her ecosystem (and second, as an agent for the health of her human community, which dwells within that ecosystem; and third, as an agent for her immediate family and self). Spiritual practice helps mature our Egos. Faced with the assertion that the goal of spiritual practice is to eliminate the Ego, the East facet of the Self might respond with a hearty laugh and the blended perspectives of the Trickster, Fool, and Sage, as, for example, expressed by Jay Leeming: Trying to get rid of your ego Is like trying to get rid of your garbage can. No one believes you are serious. The more you shout at the garbage man The more your neighbors remember your name.6 Rather than attempting to jettison the Ego, a sensible person draws on the resources of her East Self to cultivate her relationship to innocence, wisdom, humor, and the great, transpersonal, and universal mysteries of life.
Bill Plotkin (Wild Mind: A Field Guide to the Human Psyche)
When she was younger, Ellie used to believe that her invisibility was a metaphor for something else, assuming it was her awkwardness, her fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. She had thought as she grew older, more confident, wiser, she would outgrow this not being noticed. But lately, Ellie really felt like a ghost. She would be in a place, but not really there. People looked through her, past her. Her invisibility had taken on a life of its own. It wasn't a metaphor anymore, or a defense mechanism or eccentric little tic. She was actually invisible. At least, that was how it felt to her. Ellie wondered whether her parents were to blame. They were, after all, children of the sixties who had met at a love-in or lie-down or something of that sort, about which Ellie knew little except that a lot of drugs had been involved. Could Ellie's lack of physical presence be a genetic mutation caused by acid or mushrooms? Ellie grew up on their hippie commune among the highest, densest redwoods, where they dug their hands deep into the soil and grew their own food, made their own clothes. So perhaps it is there that the mystery is solved. Ellie indeed was a child of the earth, a baby of beiges and taupes and browns and muted greens. Nature doesn't scream and shout, demanding constant attention, and neither did Ellie. Maybe her invisibility was just her blending right in.
Amy S. Foster (When Autumn Leaves)
Look at all the beautiful, delicate layers! It's a perfect mille-feuille! "Heh. I call it... ...Mushroom Mille-Feuille with Duxelles Filling. Eat up!" Incredible! The exciting flavors of multiple kinds of mushrooms meld together with the crispy, ultrathin layers of piecrust in a moist and magical harmony! "The main ingredient Rindo Kobayashi chose was shiitake mushrooms! She used olive oil to cook them into a confit, trapping and magnifying their natural umami flavor!" Wait... this tang! "Aah. Champignon mushrooms and shallots, sautéed to a golden brown in garlic and butter and then simmered to a paste in broth. Cracked nuts and heavy cream were blended in to make a Duxelles, which she then sandwiched between the Mille-Feuille layers. *Duxelles is a mushroom paste often used as a base for fillings or sauces.* A perfectly balanced tart note makes the salty savoriness of the confit stand out... ... while allowing the mellow sweetness of the shiitake to linger on the tongue! Though I can't put my finger on what this sour flavor is from. What is it?" "Ants.❤️ I extracted formic acid from ants and mixed it into my Duxelles!" "WAAAAH?!" Too much formic acid is poisonous, of course. But in small amounts it can be a wonderful culinary accent. It has no extraneous sweetness, just a sharp, invigoratingly tart tang. "Not only that, if you add it to a sweet base, it can create deeper, more nuanced flavors than the more commonly used citrus fruits.
Yuto Tsukuda (食戟のソーマ 30 [Shokugeki no Souma 30] (Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma, #30))
A century ago, Albert Einstein revolutionised our understanding of space, time, energy and matter. We are still finding awesome confirmations of his predictions, like the gravitational waves observed in 2016 by the LIGO experiment. When I think about ingenuity, Einstein springs to mind. Where did his ingenious ideas come from? A blend of qualities, perhaps: intuition, originality, brilliance. Einstein had the ability to look beyond the surface to reveal the underlying structure. He was undaunted by common sense, the idea that things must be the way they seemed. He had the courage to pursue ideas that seemed absurd to others. And this set him free to be ingenious, a genius of his time and every other. A key element for Einstein was imagination. Many of his discoveries came from his ability to reimagine the universe through thought experiments. At the age of sixteen, when he visualised riding on a beam of light, he realised that from this vantage light would appear as a frozen wave. That image ultimately led to the theory of special relativity. One hundred years later, physicists know far more about the universe than Einstein did. Now we have greater tools for discovery, such as particle accelerators, supercomputers, space telescopes and experiments such as the LIGO lab’s work on gravitational waves. Yet imagination remains our most powerful attribute. With it, we can roam anywhere in space and time. We can witness nature’s most exotic phenomena while driving in a car, snoozing in bed or pretending to listen to someone boring at a party.
Stephen Hawking (Brief Answers to the Big Questions)
Why, thou monkey,’ said a harpooneer to one of these lads, ‘we ’ve been cruising now hard upon three years, and thou hast not raised a whale yet. Whales are scarce as hen’s teeth whenever thou art up here.’ Perhaps they were; or perhaps there might have been shoals of them in the far horizon; but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious revery is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it. In this enchanted mood, thy spirit ebbs away to whence it came; becomes diffused through time and space; like Cranmer’s sprinkled Pantheistic ashes, forming at last a part of every shore the round globe over. 10 There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at mid-day, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise forever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!
Herman Melville
When I was younger, I remember taking pride in people’s well-meaning remarks: “You’re so lucky that no one would ever know!” or “You don’t even look like a guy!” or “Wow! You’re prettier than most ‘natural’ women!” They were all backhanded compliments, acknowledging my beauty while also invalidating my identity as a woman. To this day, I’m told in subtle and obvious ways that I am not “real,” meaning that I am not, nor will I ever be, a cis woman; therefore, I am fake. These thoughts surrounding identity, gender, bodies, and how we view, judge, and objectify all women brings me to the subject of “passing,” a term based on an assumption that trans people are passing as something that we are not. It’s rooted in the idea that we are not really who we say we are, that we are holding a secret, that we are living false lives. Examples of people “passing” in media, whether through race (Imitation of Life and Nella Larsen’s novel Passing), class (Catch Me if You Can and the reality show Joe Millionaire), or gender (Boys Don’t Cry and The Crying Game), are often portrayed as leading a life of tragic duplicity and as deceivers who will be punished harshly by society when their true identity is uncovered. This is no different for trans people who “pass” as their gender or, more accurately, are assumed to be cis or blend in as cis, as if that is the standard or norm. This pervasive thinking frames trans people as illegitimate and unnatural. If a trans woman who knows herself and operates in the world as a woman is seen, perceived, treated, and viewed as a woman, isn’t she just being herself? She isn’t passing ; she is merely being.
Janet Mock (Redefining Realness: My Path to Womanhood, Identity, Love & So Much More)
How delicious! Layer upon layer of exquisitely delicate sweetness blooms in the mouth like the unfurling petals of a flower! And it's different from the cake Sarge presented in one very distinct way!" ?! The flavors explode not like a bomb but a firecracker! What a silky-smooth, mild sweetness! "How were you able to create such a uniquely beautiful flavor?" "See, for the cake, I used Colza oil, flour, baking powder... and a secret ingredient... Mashed Japanese mountain yam! That gave the batter some mild sweetness along with a thick creaminess. Simply mashing it instead of pureeing it gave the cake's texture some soft body as well. Then there're the two different frostings I used! The white cream I made by blending into a smooth paste banana, avocado, soy milk, rice syrup and some puffed rice I found at the convenience store. I used this for the filling. *Rice syrup, also called rice malt, is a sweetener made by transforming the starch in rice into sugars. A centuries-old condiment, it's known for being gentle on the stomach. * I made the dark cream I used to frost the cake by adding cocoa powder to the white cream." "I see. How astonishing. This cake uses no dairy or added sugar. Instead, it combines and maximizes the natural sweetness of its ingredients to create a light and wonderfully delicious cake!" "What?!" "He didn't put in any sugar at all?!" "But why go to all that time and effort?!" "For the people patiently waiting to eat it, of course. This cake was made especially for these people and for this season. When it's hot and humid out... even if it's a Christmas Cake, I figured you'd all prefer one that's lighter and softer instead of something rich and heavy. I mean, that's the kind of cake I'd want in this weather.
Yuto Tsukuda (食戟のソーマ 34 [Shokugeki no Souma 34] (Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma, #34))
Each bite is a tidal wave of savory, fatty eel juices... ... made fresh and tangy by the complementary flavors of olive oil and tomato! ...! It's perfect! This dish has beautifully encapsulated the superbness of Capitone Eel!" "Capitone specifically means 'Large Female Eel'! It's exactly this kind of eel that is served during Natale season from Christmas to New Year's. Compared to normal eels, the Capitone is large, thick and juicy! In fact, it's considered a delicacy!" "Yes, I've heard of them! The Capitone is supposed to be significantly meatier than the standard Anguilla." *Anguilla is the Italian word for regular eels.* "Okay. So the Capitone is special. But is it special enough to make a dish so delicious the judges swoon?" "No. The secret to the Capitone's refined deliciousness in this dish lies with the tomatoes. You used San Marzanos, correct?" "Ha Ragione! (Exactly!) I specifically chose San Marzano tomatoes as the core of my dish!" Of the hundreds of varieties of tomato, the San Marzano Plum Tomato is one of the least juicy. Less juice means it makes a less watery and runny sauce when stewed! "Thanks to the San Marzano tomatoes, this dish's sauce remained thick and rich with a marvelously full-bodied taste. The blend of spices he used to season the sauce has done a splendid job of highlighting the eel's natural flavors as well." "You can't forget the wondrous polenta either. Crispy on the outside and creamy in the middle. There's no greater garnish for this dish." *Polenta is boiled cornmeal that is typically served as porridge or baked into cakes.* "Ah. I see. Every ingredient of his dish is intimately connected to the eel. Garlic to increase the fragrance, onion for condensed sweetness... ... and low-juice tomatoes. Those are the key ingredients.
Yuto Tsukuda (食戟のソーマ 25 [Shokugeki no Souma 25] (Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma, #25))
1. Start with your base. Bases come in convenient stick form, but I prefer a liquid one. A sallow skin need a pinkish tone. For a ruddy complexion, beige is flattering. Smooth the base right up to the hairline (you can always wipe spots off the hair with a tissue later) and blend it around the ears, on the earlobe, and down over the neck. 2. If your face is very round, smooth a darker shade at the sides, below the cheekbone, to narrow it. If your nose is too long, put the darker shade at the tip, and at the sides of the nostrils,. There are a number of possibilities depending on your bone structure. 3. A lighter shade will bring out receding features. [...]Use pale pink just under the brow and under the brow and under the eyes to bring out deep-set eyes. I don't use white under my brows because my bone structure doesn't lend itself to that. [...] I hate to see girls with TOO much white under the brow - or too much eye makeup of any kind, for that matter. If the forehead protrudes they shouldn't use the white under the brows at all. It exaggerates it. And if they have a tendency to be puffy - and everybody has puffy days - they look worse with great white blobs under the eyes. 4. The important thing about shading and contouring is to blend so carefully that you can never see where one shade ends and the other begins. 5. So start with three shades of base for the redesigning, plus white if you need it. Add a blusher that you brush on with a large soft brush made for the purpose. I like a brownish shade. It matches my natural complexion and I brush it on under my cheekbones to accent my bone structure. But a very fair skin could use a bluish pink blusher... 5. Translucent powder goes on next. It must be translucent or your careful job of shading will be covered over. And not too much. Just light dusting of it to cover the shine... 6. After powdering, take a tissue and BLOT. Then clothes won't get soiled. 7. I put on the lipstick and smooth it over with my finger - I never rub my lips together. Then I outline the lips carefully with a lipstick pencil. I never use a brush. Then BLOT. There's nothing uglier than lipstick on the teeth.
Joan Crawford (My Way of Life)
During homeroom, before first period, I start a bucket list in one of my notebooks. First on the list? 1) Eat in the cafeteria. Sit with people. TALK TO THEM. 2) And…that’s all I can come up with for now. But this is good. One task to work on. No distractions. I can do this. When my lunch period rolls around, I forgo the safety of my bag lunch and the computer lab and slip into the pizza line, wielding my very own tray of semi-edible fare for the first time in years. “A truly remarkable sight.” Jensen cuts into line beside me, sliding his tray next to mine on the ledge in front of us. He lifts his hands and frames me with his fingers, like he’s shooting a movie. “In search of food, the elusive creature emerges from her den and tries her luck at the watering hole." I shake my head, smiling, moving down the line. “Wow, Peters. I never knew you were such a huge Animal Planet fan.” “I’m a fan of all things nature. Birds. Bees. The like.” He grabs two pudding cups and drops one on my tray. “Pandas?” I say. “How did you know? The panda is my spirit animal.” “Oh, good, because Gran has this great pattern for an embroidered panda cardigan. It would look amazing on you.” “Um, yeah, I know. It was on my Christmas list, but Santa totally stiffed me." I laugh as I grab a carton of milk. So does he. He leans in closer. “Come sit with me.” “At the jock table? Are you kidding?” I hand the cashier my lunch card. Jensen squints his eyes in the direction of his friends. “We’re skinny-ass basketball players, Wayfare. We don’t really scream jock.” “Meatheads, then?” “I believe the correct term is Athletic Types.” We step out from the line and scan the room. “So where were you planning on sitting?" “I was thinking Grady and Marco were my safest bet.” “The nerd table?” I gesture to myself, especially my glasses. “I figure my natural camouflage will help me blend, yo.” He laughs, his honey-blond hair falling in front of his eyes. “And hey,” I say, nudging him with my elbow, “last I heard, Peters was cool with nerdy.” He claps me gently on the back. “Good luck, Wayfare. I’m pulling for ya.
M.G. Buehrlen (The Untimely Deaths of Alex Wayfare (Alex Wayfare, #2))
The dining room was formidably elegant--I couldn’t take it in all at once. A swift glance gave the impression of the family colors, augmented by gold, blended with artistry and grace. The table was high, probably to accommodate the elderly Prince. The chairs, one for each diner, were especially fine--no angles, everything curves and ovals and pleasing lines. The meal, of course, was just as good. Again I left the others to work at a polite conversation. I bent my attention solely to my food, eating a portion of every single thing offered, until at last--and I never thought it would happen again, so long it had been--I was truly stuffed. This restored to me a vestige of my customary good spirits, enough so that when the Prince asked me politely if the dinner had been sufficient, and if he could have anything else brought out, I smiled and said, “It was splendid. Something to remember all my life. But--” I realized I was babbling, and shut up. The Prince’s dark eyes narrowed with amusement, though his mouth stayed solemn--I knew I’d seen that expression before. “Please. You have only to ask.” “I don’t want a thing. It was more a question, and that is: If you can eat like this every day, why aren’t you fatter than five oxen?” Bran set his goblet down, his eyes wide. “Burn it, Mel, I was just thinking the very same!” That was the moment I realized that, though our rank was as high as theirs, or nearly, and our name as old, Branaric and I must have sounded as rustic and ignorant as a pair of backwoods twig gatherers. It ruined my mood. I put my fork down and scrutinized the Prince for signs of the sort of condescending laughter that would--no doubt--make this a rich story to pass around Court as soon as we were gone. Prince Alaerec said, “During my peregrinations about the world, I discovered some surprising contradictions in human nature. One of them is that, frequently anyway, the more one has, the less one desires.” His voice was mild and pleasant, and impossible to divine any direct meaning from. I turned for the first time to his son, to meet that same assessing gaze I remembered from our first encounter. How long had that been trained on me? Now thoroughly annoyed, I said, “Well, if you’re done listening to us sit here and make fools of ourselves, why don’t we get on to whatever it is you’re going to hold over our heads next?” Neither Renselaeus reacted. It was Bran who blinked at me in surprise and said, “Curse it, Mel, where are your wits at? Didn’t Shevraeth tell you? We’re part of their plan to kick Galdran off his throne!
Sherwood Smith (Crown Duel (Crown & Court, #1))
Down through the middle of the Valley flows the crystal Merced, River of Mercy, peacefully quiet, reflecting lilies and trees and the onlooking rocks; things frail and fleeting and types of endurance meeting here and blending in countless forms, as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures, to draw her lovers into close and confiding communion with her.
Cheese Specifications Sample specificationsΔ for cheese include: Cheese, American, processed, medium blend, pasteurized, six 5-pound blocks Cheese, cheddar, natural, U.S. Grade A, medium aged, six 5-pound blocks Cheese, mozzarella, part skim, low moisture, six 5-pound blocks Cheese, cottage, creamed, minimum of 2 percent milk fat by weight, maximum of 80 percent moisture, small curd, 5-pound container
Ruby Parker Puckett (Foodservice Manual for Health Care Institutions (J-B AHA Press))
Coconut oil Deodorant Recipe Here is what you need: -1/4 Cup Baking Soda -1/3 Cup coconut oil -4 tablespoons of cornstarch (adds an antiperspirant effect) -1/4 Cup arrowroot powder - 10 drops of essential oils (optional, but you can use cinnamon or sweet orange) Directions Mix the baking soda, arrowroot powder and cornstarch in a bowl, then add the coconut oil and blend all the dry ingredients together using a fork or pastry cutter. Add the drops of essential oils and then add more coconut oil or baking soda to achieve a desired consistency. Use the natural coconut oil deodorant just as you would use any
Gigi Ann Louis (Coconut Oil: Nature's Answer to Losing Weight, Looking Young and Living Healthy)
As the various barbarian tribes took over different parts of the Empire, they attempted with varying degrees of success to main tain Roman administration, though with their own personnel overseeing it. As they converted to Christianity, they frequently put bishops into their governments as well. Unfortunately, Germanic and Roman principles for governing were radically different, and as a result it took centuries before a stable system would emerge, one drawn from blending the Roman and Germanic cultures with Christianity. That system, known as feudalism, was based on personal bonds (an element of German culture) regulated by oaths (again, German) and a legal contract (an element of Roman culture). The basic idea was that the proper structure for a society was based on lordship, in which one person was owed allegiance and service from others. This applied not only in the political realm but in the economic as well (where it is called “manorialism”). As in any society, politics and economics were tied together by fundamental ideas about the “natural” way people should relate to each other.
Glenn S. Sunshine (Why You Think the Way You Do: The Story of Western Worldviews from Rome to Home)
Living architecture is a long way from becoming a mainstream practice. Yet the ability to mitigate climate change is of the utmost importance to every architect. In the United States we suffer from a lifestyle that absorbs too much of Earth’s resources within a rampant culture of affluenza. Searching for innovative strategies to help solve our current eco-crisis is vital to human survival. New directions in biological design are a magnificent approach to going beyond survivalist routines. Bio-design is the next step toward a resilient harmony where humankind and nature seamlessly blend.
Nina Tandon, Mitchell Joachim (Super Cells: Building With Biology)
When you love something like reading - or drawing or music or nature - it surrounds you with a sense of connection to something great. If you are lucky enough to know this, then your search for meaning involves whatever that Something is. It's an alchemical blend of affinity and focus that takes us to a place within that feels as close as we ever get to "home." It's like pulling into our own train station after a long trip - joy, relief, a pleasant exhaustion.
Anne Lamott (Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair)
Meanwhile, it needs to be recognized, and talked about more frankly, that for philosophy the elephant in the kitchen is organized religion. More precisely, the understanding of human condition often foretold by the blending of science and religion is inhibited by the intervention of supernatural creation stories, each defining a separate tribe. It is one thing to hold and share the elevated spiritual values of theological religion, with a belief in the divine and trust in the existence of an afterlife. It is another thing entirely to adopt a particular supernatural creation story. Faith in a creation story gives comforting membership in a tribe. But it bears stressing that not all creation stories can be true, no two can be true, and most assuredly, all are false. Each is sustained by blind tribalistic faith alone. The study of religion is an essential part of the humanities. It should nonetheless be studied as an element of human nature, and the evolution thereof, and not, in the manner of Christian bible colleges and Islamic madaris, a manual for the promotion of a faith defined by a particular creation story.
Edward O. Wilson (The Origins of Creativity)
Laura's mind was already racing with the creative possibilities presented to her. She whipped out her sketchbook and started to work away with a stump of charcoal, trying to capture the sweep of the hills and the patterns made by the blocks of light and dark. She half closed her eyes, the better to appreciate the variations in tone and depth. She was astonished to find just how brash and vivid and wonderfully discordant colors in nature could be. At this time of year there was no sense that things were attempting to blend or mingle or go unseen. Every tree, bush, and flower seemed to be shouting out its presence, each one louder than the next. On the lower slopes the leaves of the aged oak trees sang out, gleaming in the heat. On every hill bracken screamed in solid swathes of viridian. At Laura's feet the plum purple and dark green leaves of the whinberry bushes competed for attention with their own indigo berries. The kitsch mauve of the heather laughed at all notions of subtlety. She turned to a fresh page and began to make quick notes, ideas for a future palette and thoughts about compositions. She jotted down plans for color mixes and drew the voluptuous curve of the hills and the soft shape of the whinberry leaves.
Paula Brackston (Lamp Black, Wolf Grey)
whereas malice was the beginning and end of Laurence Strange’s character, the new manservant was a more natural blend of light and shade. He possessed a great deal of good sense and was as energetic in defending others from real injury as he was in revenging imaginary insults to himself.
Susanna Clarke (Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell)
Why, thou monkey,” said a harpooneer to one of these lads, “we’ve been cruising now hard upon three years, and thou hast not raised a whale yet. Whales are scarce as hen’s teeth whenever thou art up here.” Perhaps they were; or perhaps there might have been shoals of them in the far horizon; but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it. In this enchanted mood, thy spirit ebbs away to whence it came; becomes diffused through time and space; like Crammer’s sprinkled Pantheistic ashes, forming at last a part of every shore the round globe over. There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at midday, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!
Herman Melville (Moby Dick)
cranberries is a powerful antioxidant, but the high-fructose corn syrup added to cranberry cocktail acts as a pro-oxidant, canceling out some of the benefit.79 Here’s a simple recipe for a whole-food version of a tasty cranberry beverage, what I call my Pink Juice: 1 handful fresh or frozen cranberries 2 cups water 8 teaspoons erythritol (a naturally derived low-calorie sweetener; read more about erythritol and other sweeteners in part 2) Place all the ingredients in a blender and blend at high speed. Pour over ice and serve. At just twelve calories, this recipe has twenty-five times fewer calories and at least eight times more phytonutrients than typical cranberry juice drinks.80 For an extra boost, blend in some fresh mint leaves.
Michael Greger (How Not to Die: Discover the Foods Scientifically Proven to Prevent and Reverse Disease)
Many ancient traditions including Ayurveda believe that most vegetables need to be eaten cooked, not raw. This recipe provides the green goodness of vegetables with spices and calcium to provide a nutrient rich-smoothie or soup. ¼ teaspoon natural salt ¼ teaspoon turmeric 1 teaspoon garam masala 1 tablespoon of ghee 8 ounces of water 16 ounces of fresh vegetables 4 ounces of paneer raw or cooked (cheese curd) Make paneer. Add turmeric, salt, water, oil, and cook for 15 minutes. Add greens and masala and cover with glass top. Watch for brightness in the green color of the vegetables. When you see a rich brilliant green, stop cooking. Blend the vegetables with the paneer and serve with lime.
Ramiel Nagel (Cure Tooth Decay: Heal And Prevent Cavities With Nutrition)
a frigid night of an Italian winter, crimson flows through the veins of nature’s sweet orange, staining its flesh. Cold-pressing releases its addictive oil: tangy, warm, balsamic. Blends well with frankincense, cedar, and clove. And always transports me to Italy. —DB
Jan Moran (Scent of Triumph: A Novel of Perfume and Passion)
A thousand confused thoughts came to birth in her mind and grew there, as the sunbeams grew without along the wall... Her thoughts were all in keeping with the details of this strange landscape, and the harmonies of her heart blended with the harmonies of nature. When the sun reached an angle of the wall where the “Venus-hair” of southern climes drooped its thick leaves, lit with the changing colors of a pigeon’s breast, celestial rays of hope illumined the future to her eyes, and thenceforth she loved to gaze upon that piece of wall, on its pale flowers, its blue harebells, its wilting herbage, with which she mingled memories as tender as those of childhood. The noise made by each leaf as it fell from its twig in the void of that echoing court gave answer to the secret questionings of the young girl
Honoré de Balzac (Eugénie Grandet)
NATURAL FABRIC SOFTENER Makes 1 load ½ cup white vinegar 2 tablespoons baking soda ½ teaspoon (50 drops) lavender essential oil 1. In a small glass or metal bowl, stir together the vinegar and baking soda until the baking soda dissolves. 2. Add the lavender essential oil. 3. Pour this blend into the rinse cycle (or the fabric-softener compartment) while your clothes are washing.
Randi Minetor (Essential Oils of the Bible: Connecting God's Word to Natural Healing)
The blending in people's minds of art, status and virtue is an extension of Bell's principle of sartorial morality: people find dignity in the signs of an honourably futile existence removed from all menial necessities.
Robin Headlam Wells (Human Nature: Fact and Fiction: Literature, Science and Human Nature)
Thanks to the soy-sauce-based kaeshi sauce, the broth does have a clean aftertaste, yes... but you would never expect this strong and sweet an umami flavor just at a glance!" "How on earth could she- Oh! The vegetable toppings... I've seen this combination before... Kozuyu." "Kozuyu?" "Yes, sir! I made this dish based on Kozuyu but with a paitan stock and soy sauce for the kaeshi. It's Kozuyu Chicken Soy Sauce Ramen." KOZUYU It's a traditional delicacy local to the Aizu area in Northwestern Japan. A vegetable soup, its clear broth is made with scallop stock. Considered a ceremonial meal, it is often served in special bowls on auspicious days, such as festivals and holidays. "Oh, so that's what it is!" "She took a local delicacy and reimagined it as a ramen dish. How clever!" "The scallop and paitan stock forms a solid foundation for the overall flavor of the dish." "Who knew that ramen and Kozuyu would complement each other this well?" "It looks like she also used a blend of light soy sauce and white soy sauce for the kaeshi sauce." White soy sauce! While most Japanese soy sauces are made with a mix of soy and wheat... white soy sauce uses a much higher ratio of wheat to soy! This gives it a much sweeter taste and a far lighter color than regular soy sauce, which is why it's called white. Since Kozuyu broth is traditionally seasoned with soy sauce, using white soy sauce makes perfect sense! "But white soy sauce alone isn't enough to explain this umami flavor! Where on earth is it coming from?" "In this dish, the last, most important chunk of umami flavor... ... comes from the vegetables. The burdock root, shiitake mushrooms, string beans... every vegetable I used as a topping... were first dried and then simmered together with the broth!" Aha! That's right! Drying vegetables concentrates the umami flavors and increases their nutritional value! It also ameliorates their natural grassy pungency, giving them a flavor when cooked that is much different than what they had raw! Megumi has captured all of that umami goodness in her broth!
Yuto Tsukuda (食戟のソーマ 9 [Shokugeki no Souma 9] (Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma, #9))
Some Tips to Preserve Flowers Fresh Longer Receiving new and lovely blossoms is among the most wonderful emotions in the world. It creates you feel loved, and unique, critical. Nothing really beats fresh flowers to mention particular feelings of love and devotion. This is actually the reason why you can tell how a celebration that is unique is from the quantity and type of flowers current, sold or whether available one to the other. Without a doubt the rose sector actually flowers online stores can not slow-down anytime soon and are booming. Weddings, Valentines Day, birthday, school, anniversaries, brand all without and the most significant instances a doubt flowers are part of it. The plants could have been picked up professionally or ordered through plants online, regardless of the means, new blossoms can present in a celebration. The challenge with receiving plants, however, is how to maintain their freshness longer. Really, merely placing them on vases filled up with water wouldn’t do the trick, here are a few established ways you'll be able to keep plants clean and sustained for times:  the easiest way to keep plants is by keeping them inside the refrigerator. Here is the reason why most flower shops have huge appliances where they keep their stock. If you have added place in the fridge (and endurance) you're able to just put the flowers before bed-time and put it within the fridge. In the morning you could arrange them again and do the same within the days.  If you are partial to drinking pop, specially the obvious ones like Sprite and 7 Up, you need to use this like a chemical to preserve the flowers fresh. Just serve a couple of fraction of mug of pop to mix within the water in the vase. Sugar is just a natural chemical and soda has high-sugar content, as you know.  To keep the petals and sepals fresh-looking attempt to apply somewhat of hairspray on the couple of plants or aroma. Stay from a length (about one feet) then provide the blossoms a fast spritz, notably to the leaves and petals.  the trick to maintaining cut flowers new is always to minimize the expansion of bacteria while in the same period give you the plants with all the diet it needs. Since it has properties for this function vodka may be used. Just blend of vodka and sugar for the water that you're going to use within the vase but make sure to modify the water daily using the vodka and sugar solution.  Aspirin is also recognized to preserve flowers fresh. Only break a pill of aspirin before you place the plants, and blend it with the water. Remember which you need to add aspirin everytime the water changes.  Another effective approach to avoid the growth of bacteria is to add about a quarter teaspoon of bleach inside the water within the vase. Mix in a few teaspoon of sugar for the blossoms and also diet will definitely last considerably longer. The number are only several of the more doable ways that you can do to make sure that it is possible to enjoy those arrangement of flowers you obtained from the person you worry about for a very long time. They could nearly last but atleast the message it offered will soon be valued inside your heart for the a long time.
Homeland Florists
Use Ayurvedic Herbs – Amla, Shikakai, and Reetha - for long and strong hair. Indian gooseberry (Amla) is a rich source of vitamin C. Therefore, it helps development of collagen and battles off free radicals, advancing hair development and pigmentation. You can blend 2 teaspoons of both Amla and lime juice, and then rub the mixture on your head like a shampoo. Next, wash off with warm water. This will help your hair develop, and will make your hair long, strong, and shiny. 
Emily Kirk (Natural Hair: How to Grow Long and Healthy Hair: Natural Hair-Care Recipes for Hair Growth and Health)
CHOCOLATE SMOOTHIE SERVES 2 5 ounces baby spinach 2 cups frozen blueberries ½ cup unsweetened soy, hemp, or almond milk 1 banana 2–4 dates, pitted 2 tablespoons natural cocoa powder 1 tablespoon ground flaxseeds Blend all the ingredients in a high-powered blender until smooth and creamy.
Joel Fuhrman (Eat to Live: The Revolutionary Formula for Fast and Sustained Weight Loss)
Let’s get to our site,” Anne said. “I’m gonna need a nap before the hunt…and lunch.” “Do you wish you would’ve gotten that rental car this morning?” Jill whispered as Anne and Ella settled into their seats. Shay nodded. “Uh-huh.” Jill had seen many campgrounds, but her jaw sagged, and her foot slipped off the gas pedal twice. Sally rolled on slowly as she stared at the cadre of camouflaged vehicles and tents. One man sat atop his RV in a lawn chair, his binoculars trained on the woods beyond. “They really do take this seriously,” Shay whispered in awe. “This is like a militaristic zone.” Jill backed into a slip covered with a quilt of netting and camouflage tarps strung from the trees high overhead. “What is the reason for all of this?” she asked. “The campground is designed to blend in with nature to be more welcoming to the Bigfoot,” Anne explained. “That’s what they told us when we checked in.” “Oh, is that it? Well, let me just craft a banner that says, ‘We come in peace or bite-sized pieces,”’ Jill said with a sardonic laugh.
Robin Alexander (The Trip)
He wanted the teahouse to blend in with nature and become more of a backdrop for the tea ceremony, so he helped influence its redesign. Over time, the teahouse became a simple hut set in a garden with mud and plaster walls, a thatched roof, a bamboo lattice ceiling, tatami floors, and small paper-covered windows. It became a refuge in the city meant to echo a mountain retreat, where samurai from warring clans, lowly merchants, and even the emperor could come together on equal footing and focus on nothing more than the sensory pleasures of the tea ceremony, such as the gentle bubbling of the tea water on the brazier, the seasonal flower arrangement in the alcove, and the smell of the particular incense chosen to represent the time of year.
Victoria Abbott Riccardi (Untangling My Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto)
The root and bark of life experiences forges our leafy character. We become a manifestation of the stalk of character that we forged while operating in the piney landscape of our environmental demands. What we seriously attend to, how we go about play, and whom we choose as friends and enemies, and other lushes choices that we make in conducting our lives reveals the stem of our character. The most telling of all sylvan experiences are naturally associated with difficult adventures. Conflict brings out budding character traits, its blooming foliage reveals qualities we previously did not know about ourselves. The more challenging experiences we expose ourselves to in life, the more we understand our quintessence, the core of our unique blend of character traits.
Kilroy J. Oldster (Dead Toad Scrolls)
What I know in my soul is that the prejudice, inequality, and broken systems that do exist are wrong and dangerous. As Americans, they anger and shame so many of us. Personally, I can’t just sit on a couch and watch the news, or run a company, while society erupts, or walk into some form of retirement and be still. On the sidelines is not where most of us want to be. We must see beyond what’s in front of us. We must reimagine the promise of America. How? By using empathy to try to understand, raising our voices to condemn darkness, and casting our votes to choose the kind of leadership we want our grandchildren to grow up with. But we must also use our hard skills and resources to craft a better reality for ourselves, our neighbors and those with whom we share this land. We can protest but also plan. Search for the truth and share it broadly. Listen to others, and blend ideas. Criticize, but also create. It’s time to commit to a deeper level of shared accountability—to neighbor as well as to stranger, and to self. Americans will always have differences, because that is the nature of the republic we have created. But we owe our children a less divisive America, just as many of our parents fought for a less divided country than the one they inherited. It is time for all of us to elevate the best of ourselves. It is time to climb, and to reclaim the high ground. To do so we must make a choice, one that we have made before. It is a choice between renewal or decline. Our country has a history of renewal at moments when we’ve faced decline, but we also know that renewing our nation’s honor is not a forgone conclusion. The future is not going to bend toward America because we’re American. We’re going to have to bend it ourselves, nudge it, move it. At every turn, let us choose to replace meanness with kindness; pettiness with significance; hate with love; gridlock with compromise; complaints with creative solutions. As a nation, we must be tough but not at the expense of one another. So let us also champion and celebrate those with strength of character—the upstanders among us—because there are so many whose daily intentions and actions echo the heroism of the past, who strive for honesty in the present, and who are already reimagining the promise of America, and will do so for years to come. Above all, let us choose to believe in each other because now and always—we are in this together.
Howard Schultz (From the Ground Up: A Journey to Reimagine the Promise of America)
Out of all green ends and correlated mystic blend underlying the wholesome beauty only one note could speak and flow when nothing else on the barren wet streets she laughed at my grin speaking of what I missed. How is the realm so lovely when the rain tells me how perfect the self organizing smooth system far less attracted so please the muse to the scene, swirling in utter beauty turn away from conversations of horrific overwhelming tension your sublime nature forces half naked bare legged bathing in geometrical arrangements; a future rebelled, tame and dominate your blessed frightened glass ceiling, breath or goodness spells glitter rains down on your laced chest, taking off your shades and notable note from off your written thoughts on the reality page of mirrored candy smile hair twisting, back alone chasing drinks with cheers toward all we saved in the red ashes; smiling how perfect we feel tonight, I could end any beings or spirit. A sucker for the matter found without presence in unlimited rising smoke you weep and invent forms, or nature reflection internality on how few nerves you leave me squirming producing works of utter biting beauty art works off afternoon body gasping at whatever is near or afar, look how smart you get when you cant always get what you dreamt of, on time naughty morning sun baking eyes in mine.
Brandon Villasenor (Prima Materia (Radiance Hotter than Shade, #1))
Syncretism may have been a fundamental unifying aspect of the Greco-Roman world, but when Christians arrived on the scene they did not want to join in. When Christians looked at the religious activity going on around them, at the veneration of ancestors, the deification of nature, the blending of deities, and a pick-and-mix approach to religion, what they saw was paganism. During the first few centuries of the Church, Christian theologians focused on three practices in particular that they saw as defining this false universal religion: polytheism, sacrifice, and idol worship.
Owen Davies (Paganism: A Very Short Introduction (Very Short Introductions))
I first came to Hokkaido for two reasons: miso ramen and uni, the island's most famous foods and two items on my short list for Last Supper constituents. The only thing they share in common, besides a home, is the intense fits of joy they deliver: the former made from an unholy mix of pork-bone broth, thick miso paste, and wok-crisped pork belly (with the optional addition of a slab of melting Hokkaido butter), the latter arguably the sexiest food on earth, yolk-orange tongues of raw sea urchin roe with a habit-forming blend of fat and umami, sweetness and brine. Fall for uni at your own peril; like heroin and high-stakes poker, it's an expensive addiction that's tough to kick. But my dead-simple plan- to binge on both and catch the first flight back to Tokyo- has been upended by a steam locomotive and Whole Foods foliage, and suddenly Hokkaido seems much bigger than an urchin and a bowl of soup. No one told me about the rolling farmlands, the Fuji-like volcanoes, the stunning national parks, one stacked on top of the other. Nobody said there would be wine. And cheese. And bread.
Matt Goulding (Rice, Noodle, Fish: Deep Travels Through Japan's Food Culture)
Sara Priestley brings a fresh new voice to poetry, blending ancient spiritual traditions with reflections on everyday experience.
Sara Priestley (Quintessence: the poetry of true nature)
Given the nature of spiders, webs are inevitable. And given the nature of human beings, so are religions. Spiders can't help making fly-traps, and men can't help making symbols. That's what the human brain is there for — to turn the chaos of given experience into a set of manageable symbols. Sometimes the symbols correspond fairly closely to some of the aspects of the external reality behind our experience; than you have science and common sense. Sometimes, on the contrary, the symbols have almost no connection with external reality; then you have paranoia and delirium. More often there's a mixture, part realistic and part fantastic; that's religion. Good religion or bad religion — it depends on the blending of the cocktail.
Aldous Huxley (Island)
Now and again, it is necessary to seclude yourself among deep mountains and hidden valleys to restore your link to the source of life. Sit comfortably and first contemplate the manifest realm of existence. This realm is concerned with externals, the physical form of things. Then fill your body with ki and sense the manner in which the universe functions—its shape, its color, and its vibrations. Breathe in and let yourself soar to the ends of the universe; breathe out and bring the cosmos back inside. Next, breathe up all the fecundity and vibrancy of the earth. Finally, blend the breath of heaven and the breath of earth with that of your own body, becoming the breath of life itself. As you calm down, naturally let yourself settle in the heart of things. Find your center, and fill yourself with light and heat.
Morihei Ueshiba (The Art of Peace)
Grievers I've come across function within society, and most days it appears pretty seamless. We volunteer at church. We go to school plays. We shop. We cheer from the sidelines. We try to blend in. We smile. We look normal. We need people to feel okay being open and natural around us, so as not to drive us even further apart from the world. We are not from another planet, but it feels that way, so far removed is our experience from those around us. There is a constant undercurrent of loss, a schism in our brains, which we gradually learn to adapt to, but is ever present. It's as if our brains are operating on two separate tracks. One is the here and now. The second is the parallel track of what could or should have been yet will not be. Most days I can keep the second track hidden. Other times, I haven't got a prayer.
Anna Whiston-Donaldson (Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love)
Fortunately, a little bit of jasmine goes a long way and, as long as you choose a reputable brand of blended oil, you can still reap the benefits.
Amy Leigh Mercree (Essential Oils Handbook: Recipes for Natural Living)
was wonderful. She imagined it must mean nice food to eat, lots of books to read, plenty of turfs for your fire, and trips to the Saturday Rush at the local cinema. Yet there was something even more precious behind that door, something which Maeve thought she could never have for herself but wanted for Kitty. ‘I’ve got a lame foot and an ugly face, as well as a miserable, scraggy little body,’ she had said to Kitty once. ‘But you are straight and strong and beautiful. Darling Kitty, you should have everything. But it’s really important to get an education.’ Naturally, Kitty had protested that Maeve was not ugly, and that her body was not scraggy, but Maeve had just laughed. ‘Never mind that,’ she had said. ‘I know what I know. Now run along wit’ you, I’ve got work to do.’ By the time she sat down, however, Kitty found she was far more cheerful. She had two friends, and the possibility of more, and she was determined to win the teacher’s approval, much though she hated her. For the rest of the morning she did her best to do as Sister Enda said, but she noticed that the woman’s eyes were always upon her and knew, with a little shiver of dread, that her teacher was actually hoping that she would overstep the mark in some undefined way. ‘You’re too perishin’ clean, so you are,’ Bridget informed her, when they were eating their carry-out. ‘You don’t blend in wit’ the other kids, you stand out.
Katie Flynn (Little Girl Lost)
How much does the energy know about me?” “Absolutely everything. More than you know but without the useless judgie parts. Nature doesn’t know right or wrong, only consequences. The magic blends with you even as you resist getting out of the way. Your part is to make a choice about using magic in the first place. Magic doesn’t intervene without being invited into the party.
Martha Carr (The Leira Chronicles: The Complete Austin Series (The Leira Chronicles #1-8))
Aah. This is a Causa ... ... one of Peruvian cuisine's most classic dishes." The word Causa means "mashed potatoes," and the dish is one with deep ties to Peruvian traditions. Various seafoods are sandwiched between layers of mashed potatoes and pressed together into a large roll. One could think of it as a giant potato salad sushi roll. Kobayashi minced the spear squid, blending it together with egg whites and onions in a food processor before seasoning it with lemon, mayonnaise and soy sauce. The resulting ground squid she formed into a patty and fried to make a light and fluffy squid burger. As the centerpiece of her dish, she sandwiched the patty between layers of mashed potatoes seasoned with bright yellow Ají Amarillo. *Ají Amarillo is a type of yellow chili pepper. A traditional seasoning in Peruvian cuisine, it has both spiciness and fruity sweetness.* She used Irish Cobbler potatoes- the pride of Hokkaido- to make the mashed potatoes. Their natural sweetness nicely emphasizes the body of the squid's flavor.
Yuto Tsukuda (食戟のソーマ 29 [Shokugeki no Souma 29] (Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma, #29))
My aunt's life was now practically confined to two adjoining rooms, in one of which she would rest in the afternoon while they, aired the other. They were rooms of that country order which (just as in certain climes whole tracts of air or ocean are illuminated or scented by myriads of protozoa which we cannot see) fascinate our sense of smell with the countless odours springing from their own special virtues, wisdom, habits, a whole secret system of life, invisible, superabundant and profoundly moral, which their atmosphere holds in solution; smells natural enough indeed, and coloured by circumstances as are those of the neighbouring countryside, but already humanised, domesticated, confined, an exquisite, skilful, limpid jelly, blending all the fruits of the season which have left the orchard for the store-room, smells changing with the year, but plenishing, domestic smells, which compensate for the sharpness of hoar frost with the sweet savour of warm bread, smells lazy and punctual as a village clock, roving smells, pious smells; rejoicing in a peace which brings only an increase of anxiety, and in a prosiness which serves as a deep source of poetry to the stranger who passes through their midst without having lived amongst them. The air of those rooms was saturated with the fine bouquet of a silence so nourishing, so succulent that I could not enter them without a sort of greedy enjoyment, particularly on those first mornings, chilly still, of the Easter holidays, when I could taste it more fully, because I had just arrived then at Combray: before I went in to wish my aunt good day I would be kept waiting a little time in the outer room, where the sun, a wintry sun still, had crept in to warm itself before the fire, lighted already between its two brick sides and plastering all the room and everything in it with a smell of soot, making the room like one of those great open hearths which one finds in the country, or one of the canopied mantelpieces in old castles under which one sits hoping that in the world outside it is raining or snowing, hoping almost for a catastrophic deluge to add the romance of shelter and security to the comfort of a snug retreat; I would turn to and fro between the prayer-desk and the stamped velvet armchairs, each one always draped in its crocheted antimacassar, while the fire, baking like a pie the appetising smells with which the air of the room, was thickly clotted, which the dewy and sunny freshness of the morning had already 'raised' and started to 'set,' puffed them and glazed them and fluted them and swelled them into an invisible though not impalpable country cake, an immense puff-pastry, in which, barely waiting to savour the crustier, more delicate, more respectable, but also drier smells of the cupboard, the chest-of-drawers, and the patterned wall-paper I always returned with an unconfessed gluttony to bury myself in the nondescript, resinous, dull, indigestible, and fruity smell of the flowered quilt.
Marcel Proust (Swann's Way)
Proud music of the sea-storm! Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies! Strong hum of forest tree-tops! wind of the mountains! Personified dim shapes! you hidden orchestras! You serenades of phantoms, with instruments alert, Blending, with Nature's rhythmus, all the tongues of nations; You chords left as by vast composers! you choruses!
Walt Whitman
She finds herself, by some miraculous feat, no longer standing in the old nursery but returned to the clearing in the woods. It is the 'green cathedral', the place she first kissed Jack all those weeks ago. The place where they laid out the stunned sparrowhawk, then watched it spring miraculously back to life. All around, the smooth, grey trunks of ancient beech trees rise up from the walls of the room to tower over her, spreading their branches across the ceiling in a fan of tangled branches and leaves, paint and gold leaf cleverly combined to create the shimmering effect of a leafy canopy at its most dense and opulent. And yet it is not the clearing, not in any real or grounded sense, because instead of leaves, the trees taper up to a canopy of extraordinary feathers shimmering and spreading out like a peacock's tail across the ceiling, a hundred green, gold and sapphire eyes gazing down upon her. Jack's startling embellishments twist an otherwise literal interpretation of their woodland glade into a fantastical, dreamlike version of itself. Their green cathedral, more spectacular and beautiful than she could have ever imagined. She moves closer to one of the trees and stretches out a hand, feeling instead of rough bark the smooth, cool surface of a wall. She can't help but smile. The trompe-l'oeil effect is dazzling and disorienting in equal measure. Even the window shutters and cornicing have been painted to maintain the illusion of the trees, while high above her head the glass dome set into the roof spills light as if it were the sun itself, pouring through the canopy of eyes. The only other light falls from the glass windowpanes above the window seat, still flanked by the old green velvet curtains, which somehow appear to blend seamlessly with the painted scene. The whole effect is eerie and unsettling. Lillian feels unbalanced, no longer sure what is real and what is not. It is like that book she read to Albie once- the one where the boy walks through the wardrobe into another world. That's what it feels like, she realizes: as if she has stepped into another realm, a place both fantastical and otherworldly. It's not just the peacock-feather eyes that are staring at her. Her gaze finds other details: a shy muntjac deer peering out from the undergrowth, a squirrel, sitting high up in a tree holding a green nut between its paws, small birds flitting here and there. The tiniest details have been captured by Jack's brush: a silver spider's web, a creeping ladybird, a puffy white toadstool. The only thing missing is the sound of the leaf canopy rustling and the soft scuttle of insects moving across the forest floor.
Hannah Richell (The Peacock Summer)
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A man’s power to connect his thought with its proper symbol, and so to utter it, depends on the simplicity of his character, that is, upon his love of truth and his desire to communicate it without loss. The corruption of man is followed by the corruption of language. When simplicity of character and the sovereignty of ideas is broken up by the prevalence of secondary desires—the desire of riches, of pleasure, of power, and of praise—and duplicity and falsehood take place of simplicity and truth, the power over nature as an interpreter of the will is in a degree lost; new imagery ceases to be created, and old words are perverted to stand for things which are not; a paper currency is employed, when there is no bullion in the vaults. In due time the fraud is manifest, and words lose all power to stimulate the understanding or the affections. Hundreds of writers may be found in every long-civilized nation who for a short time believe and make others believe that they see and utter truths, who do not of themselves clothe one thought in its natural garment, but who feed unconsciously on the language created by the primary writers of the country, those, namely, who hold primarily on nature. But wise men pierce this rotten diction and fasten words again to visible things; so that picturesque language is at once a commanding certificate that he who employs it is a man in alliance with truth and God. The moment our discourse rises above the ground line of familiar facts and is inflamed with passion or exalted by thought, it clothes itself in images. A man conversing in earnest, if he watch his intellectual processes, will find that a material image more or less luminous arises in his mind, contemporaneous with every thought, which furnishes the vestment of the thought. Hence, good writing and brilliant discourse are perpetual allegories. This imagery is spontaneous. It is the blending of experience with the present action of the mind. It is proper creation. It is the working of the Original Cause through the instruments he has already made.
Ralph Waldo Emerson (The Essential Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson)
WHAT’S THE BEST TIME OF THE DAY TO TAKE CBD OIL? Is there the best time of the day to take CBD and maximize the wellness produc’t natural effects? Will regular servings of cannabidiol (CBD) added to a daily routine increase the wellness benefits? As more people learn about the health benefits of CBD, the more they realize that it is best to be consistent establishing a routine. It will help boost the compound’s wellness properties and provide the best effects from CBD. How do I know what is the best time for me to take CBD Oil? SAGELY NATURALS conducted a research on regular CBD users and their experiences; “If you’ve begun incorporating CBD into your daily wellness routine, you may have wondered: What’s the best time of day to take CBD? Is first thing in the morning best or right before lights out? While the best time of day to take CBD is not an exact science, there are ways to figure out what timing your body will respond to best as well as some guidelines depending on what you want to achieve.” As many people have learn about using CBD, the ideal time is whenever best fits in your schedule. CBD ID found out that CBD oils can be spread into three categories to fit into your routine. So the first category is the AM CBD OIL that has awakening effects and best to be taken in the morning. If you like to start off you day with coffee or smoothie, CBD oil can be easily blended in. Second category is the Exclusive CBD OIL and is recommended to use throughout the day to maintain regular level of CBD in their system all day long. The last one is the PM CBD Oil. For best results of your CBD serving in the evening. If CBD oil makes you feel drowsy or relaxed, the evening CBD intake the ideal time for you. How often do I need to take CBD Oil? Based on you physiological needs there are daily servings of CBD oil that helps keep a regular level of CBD in your system. In fact using CBD oil consistently will maximize effects. Consequently, having a routine will ensure a more constant level of cannabinoids in the body.
In his history of biology, Ernst Mayr showed that many biologists originally rejected the theory of natural selection because of their belief that a species was a pure type defined by an essence. They could not wrap their minds around the concept that species are populations of variable individuals and that one can blend into another over evolutionary time.36 In this context, the fear of genetically modified foods no longer seems so strange: it is simply the standard human intuition that every living thing has an essence. Natural foods are thought to have the pure essence of the plant or animal and to carry with them the rejuvenating powers of the pastoral environment in which they grew. Genetically modified foods, or foods containing artificial additives, are thought of as being deliberately laced with a contaminant tainted by its origins in an acrid laboratory or factory. Arguments that invoke genetics, biochemistry, evolution, and risk analysis are likely to fall on deaf ears when pitted against this deep-rooted way of thinking.
Steven Pinker (The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial of Human Nature)
Florida Adoption Step Parent Adoption Forms There is more blended families in Florida than any time in the past. There are also many more parents who are looking to do a stepparent adoption to unify their family. The sad fact is that many children who are in a new home environment don?t have relationship with their natural mother or father. This leaves children looking to their step parent to fill that role. In most cases, the step parent will take on the responsibility of raising and supporting his or her step child, and will develop a relationship with their step child which has the same bond as if the child was the stepparent?s biological child. In these situations, when the step child has been abandoned by an absent parent, a stepparent adoption can bring unity in the family, and provide many legal benefits for the child. A Florida adoption Step Parent Adoption Forms is a straight-forward process. If one of the child?s biological parents has either abandoned the child, or is willing to sign a consent to adoption, then the adoption can be completed fairly easy, even if that parent?s whereabouts are unknown. A stepparent adoption in Florida consists of filing the appropriate adoption documents with the court, serving the absent parent, and going through certain steps that are required to complete the adoption. In Florida, both the stepparent and the child?s biological parent will file a ?Joint Petition for Adoption by Stepparent?. The adoption petition will outline who the parties are, and will let the court know that the stepparent is desiring to adopt his or her step child. Who is required to consent to a Florida adoption Step Parent Adoption Forms? After the adoption paperwork has been filed with the Circuit Court in the county where you reside in Florida, the court will process the adoption forms. The adoption department at the Circuit Court will look to see if the consent from the absent parent can be waived due to abandonment, or if a signed consent is included in the forms. In addition, the court will look to see that the consent to adoption has been signed by any child being adopted who is at least 12 years of age. If the absent parent has abandoned the child, meaning that he has failed to maintain a reasonable degree of interest, concern or responsibility as to the child?s welfare, and has failed to support the financial needs of the child, then the consent of the absent parent will not be required. What happens when the Florida Stepparent Adoption is final? The court will have a final hearing where the Judge will review all the information that has been presented and finalize the adoption. When the Judge signs a ?Final Judgment of Stepparent Adoption?, then the adoption is final. When the adoption is final, the Judge will order the clerk of the court to have a new birth certificate issued, listing the stepparent as the child?s parent on the birth certificate, and also showing the child?s new name on the birth certificate. As far as the birth certificate is concerned, the child was born with the new name and that the adoptive parents were the child?s birth parents. How to start a stepparent adoption in Florida. For anyone who has spoken to an adoption attorney regarding completing a Florida stepparent adoption, they quickly realize how expensive the process can be if they go through an attorney. The good news is that people in Florida have been doing their own step parent adoptions for decades, with the help from an online company, Using an online adoption company like allows you to complete your own Florida stepparent adoption, and save thousands over the cost of an attorney. Their experienced adoption specialists will prepare all your documents for you and send them to you ready to sign and file with the court. You can do your own Florida stepparent adoption
Stepparent Adoption
Broccoli and Potato Soup Serves 6 Ingredients: 2 lbs broccoli, cut into florets 2 potatoes, chopped 1 big onion, chopped 3 garlic cloves, crushed 4 cups water 1 tbsp olive oil 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg Directions: Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion and garlic and sauté, stirring, for 3 minutes or until soft. Add broccoli, potato and four cups of cold water. Cover and bring to the boil then reduce heat to low. Simmer, stirring, for 10 to 15 minutes or until potato is tender. Remove from heat. Blend until smooth. Return to pan. Cook for five minutes or until heated through. Season with nutmeg and pepper before serving.
Vesela Tabakova (Everyday Vegetarian Family Cookbook: 100 Delicious Meatless Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner Recipes you Can Make in Minutes! (FREE BONUS RECIPES: 10 Natural ... Beauty Recipes) (Healthy Cookbook Series))
The CORINNE HOTEL has transferred the mysteries of the past to the present and staying loyal to the original structure of the building it was restored with respect for nature using ecofriendly technology. Our hotel with its interior design blending the modern with the historical past opens the doors to its 39 rooms to host guests who crave luxury and boutique service.
One of the basic ideas of the evangelical movement in the early nineteenth century was that people could help themselves. Rather than wonder and fear the fate God decreed for them, they could actively change their lives by renouncing sin and accepting Christ. From this same pool of thought rose a wave of healers who claimed that disease wasn’t a product of inscrutable humors that needed to be poisoned or purged from the body, but natural phenomena that could be studied and understood. This idea blended Enlightenment rationalism with evangelical optimism.
Joshua Wolf Shenk (Lincoln's Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness)
In nature, a rainbow appears after a storm. It is luminous and shiny after the dark and rainy event that gave birth to it. Likewise with each of us, events both dark and stormy, but also ones that are bright and full of life, have made us who we are individually, and in turn who we are together as a couple. The colors of our relationship rainbow really do blend together to create a close and exciting marriage that is also full of contentment, safety, and predictability for both of us. That way, as life’s storms do rage around us, and the rainbows appear, we are consistent in our love for one another always.
Jeffery W. Turner (Notes to Stephanie: Middle Aged Love Letters and Life Stories)
for they are produced whenever there needs to establish itself in the security necessary to its development a vice which Nature herself has planted in the soul of a child, perhaps by no more than blending the virtues of its father and mother, as she might blend the colours of their eyes.
Marcel Proust (In Search of Lost Time [volumes 1 to 7])
If you’re stuck without lab-tested coffee, here is how to reduce your risks of getting mold toxins in your coffee. First, look for single-estate coffee. That means the beans come from one place, so if you’re lucky enough to get mold-free beans, you don’t have to worry about them being mixed with other moldy beans. This is why blends of coffee are a bad idea, even if they taste good. Second, look for washed coffee, because washed coffee is better than natural-process coffee. Steer clear of natural process entirely. The third thing to do is to look for Central American coffee, which is often better than coffee from other regions. The fourth thing to do is to look for high elevation, as that can reduce mold problems by making stronger plants. Remember, an “organic” label means nothing—most of the best coffees come from small plantations that could never afford an organic certification because the paperwork cost would put them out of business. Plus, organic coffee can sit in dirty water and grow mold toxins just like conventional coffee can.
Dave Asprey (Head Strong: The Bulletproof Plan to Activate Untapped Brain Energy to Work Smarter and Think Faster-in Just Two Weeks)
Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces for individual and social harmony. To accomplish that unity, Anarchism has declared war on the pernicious influences which have so far prevented the harmonious blending of individual and social instincts, the individual and society. Religion, the dominion of the human mind; Property, the dominion of human needs; and Government, the dominion of human conduct, represent the stronghold of man's enslavement and all the horrors it entails. Religion! How it dominates man's mind, how it humiliates and degrades his soul. God is everything, man is nothing, says religion. But out of that nothing God has created a kingdom so despotic, so tyrannical, so cruel, so terribly exacting that naught but gloom and tears and blood have ruled the world since gods began. Anarchism rouses man to rebellion against this black monster. Break your mental fetters, says Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all progress. Property, the dominion of man's needs, the denial of the right to satisfy his needs. Time was when property claimed a divine right, when it came to man with the same refrain, even as religion, "Sacrifice! Abnegate! Submit!" The spirit of Anarchism has lifted man from his prostrate position. He now stands erect, with his face toward the light. He has learned to see the insatiable, devouring, devastating nature of property, and he is preparing to strike the monster dead. "Property is robbery," said the great French Anarchist, Proudhon. Yes, but without risk and danger to the robber. Monopolizing the accumulated efforts of man, property has robbed him of his birthright, and has turned him loose a pauper and an outcast. Property has not even the time-worn excuse that man does not create enough to satisfy all needs. The A B C student of economics knows that the productivity of labor within the last few decades far exceeds normal demand a hundredfold. But what are normal demands to an abnormal institution? The only demand that property recognizes is its own gluttonous appetite for greater wealth, because wealth means power; the power to subdue, to crush, to exploit, the power to enslave, to outrage, to degrade. America is particularly boastful of her great power, her enormous national wealth. Poor America, of what avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are wretchedly poor? If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey. It is generally conceded that unless the returns of any business venture exceed the cost, bankruptcy is inevitable. But those engaged in the business of producing wealth have not yet learned even this simple lesson. Every year the cost of production in human life is growing larger (50,000 killed, 100,000 wounded in America last year); the returns to the masses, who help to create wealth, are ever getting smaller. Yet America continues to be blind to the inevitable bankruptcy of our business of production. Nor is this the only crime of the latter. Still more fatal is the crime of turning the producer into a mere particle of a machine, with less will and decision than his master of steel and iron. Man is being robbed not merely of the products of his labor, but of the power of free initiative, of originality, and the interest in, or desire for, the things he is making.
Emma Goldman (Anarchism and other essays (Illustrated))
Blending into the tinctures and textures of the countryside. The tree which falls without any human hearing still falls, as the creatures who die without being found by a human still die.
Sara Baume (A Line Made by Walking)
The need of theory is supported by the eros of the philosopher. It is not the expression of his will to conquer nature. Therefore, the joys of contemplation are "immediate enjoyments," joys that belong intrinsically to contemplation, and they come without further setting of goals or justification to the one receptive to them. They are not tied to social use, neither dependent upon the opinion of others nor gained from the expectation of future glory. The love for the observation of nature, for the observation of the details of the structure in which nature becomes comprehensible, of the order in which nature is articulated, of the spectacle nature provides for one who takes an interest in its objects, who lets its forms, colors, and sounds affect him, this love accords with the love of oneself. Both discourage highfalutin plans to change the world by the transformation of nature. Both impose moderation on the philosopher. He will be especially adequate to his desire to "contribute" something "to this beautiful system" by his conceiving it as a "system" and as "beautiful." The contribution most his own is that he has the whole in view; that he sees things and beings within the horizon of the whole, that he investigates and orders them as parts, that he knows himself as a part and reflects on his relation to the whole or that he poses the question of the whole. But if he wants to keep the question of the whole in view, he may not lose himself. To conceive the "beautiful system," he must devote himself to it in detail and again return to himself. To be able to observe nature, he may not blend into it. Observation requires both proximity and distance.
Heinrich Meier (On the Happiness of the Philosophic Life: Reflections on Rousseau's Rêveries in Two Books)
And, moreover, you need not for a moment to insinuate that the virtues have taken refuge in cottages and wholly abandoned slated houses. Let me tell you, I particularly abominate that sort of trash, because I know so well that human nature is human nature everywhere, whether under tile or thatch, and that in every specimen of human nature that breathes, vice and virtue are ever found blended, in smaller or greater proportions, and that the proportion is not determined by station. I have seen villains who were rich, and I have seen villains who were poor, and I have seen villains who were neither rich nor poor,
Charlotte Brontë (The Brontës Complete Works)
Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heartstrings to the beings that jar us at every movement. We hear a voice with the very cadence of our own uttering the thoughts we despise; we see eyes—ah! so like our mother’s—averted from us in cold alienation; and our last darling child startles us with the air and gestures of the sister we parted from in bitterness long years ago. The father to whom we owe our best heritage—the mechanical instinct, the keen sensibility to harmony, the unconscious skill of the modelling hand—galls us, and puts us to shame by his daily errors; the long-lost mother, whose face we begin to see in the glass as our own wrinkles come, once fretted our young souls with her anxious humours and irrational persistence.
George Eliot (Adam Bede)
He squinted at the fluorescent light on the white ceiling. The Spanish praying continued. The familiar smell filled the air, that combination of harsh cleaners, bodily functions, wilting fauna and absolutely no natural air circulation. Mike’s head dropped to the left. He saw the back of a woman hunched over a bed. Her fingers moved over the prayer beads. Her head seemed to be resting on a man’s chest. She alternated between sobs and prayers—and a blend of the two. He
Harlan Coben (Hold Tight)
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Aside from the old architecture, narrow winding roads, and driving on the left, I wondered why England looked so different from America; then I realized that the trees and fields, the buildings and barns, the small villages and narrow winding roads all fit together seamlessly, blended by time into a harmony. No one thing intruded on the other. Each fit the scene as though a natural process had ordained symmetry. Nothing jarred the eye; all was quiet beauty and neatness. There was no litter, nothing offensive to the senses. Every snug cottage had its garden, each shop a quaint window; there were no ugly signs. Even the lettering above the shop doors looked wonderfully ancient and elegant.
Robin Olds (Fighter Pilot: The Memoirs of Legendary Ace Robin Olds)
Jon Stone looked like a demented surfer with his spiky, bleached hair and pierced ear, but I knew his background with Delta. Sometimes you forget what that means. Most people think Delta, they’re thinking of Rambo, with the big gun and even bigger muscles. D-boys are deadly warriors, for sure, but you won’t find many who look like Rambo. This is because you can’t rescue hostages or snatch high-value targets from hostile villages unless you find them, so D-boys are also selected to gather intelligence. They are off-the-charts smart, look ordinary, and are trained to blend in anywhere with anyone. This is why D-boys are called operators. Jon Stone had worked the two drunk ex-ROK gangsters for no other reason than gathering intelligence was in his nature. As
Robert Crais (Taken (Elvis Cole, #15; Joe Pike, #4))
Our Eldest Son The first of two Is a disappointment To tell the truth His ways are foreign And wit too keen Words are sharp His spirit mean   Our Eldest Son Has a hustler’s edge He loves to argue And use his head A bestselling poet Emotionally scarred Our Eldest Son Is a wildcard   Our Eldest Son Blames his Dad For everything He never had Blended evil A toxic concoction Our Eldest Son Speaks up too often     Our Eldest Son Lives in the city He prefers the rain And loathes self-pity Verbally battered With Catholic guilt Our eldest son Was born to tilt   Our Eldest Son Now forty-three Has far outlived His expectancy An impulsive nature And troubled mind Our eldest son Is a different kind    
K.W. Peery (Purgatory)
Deep Chocolate Pound Cake Mixing boiling water into the cocoa powder is the key to creating a deep chocolate flavor: This melts the cocoa butter and disperses the cocoa through-out the batter. Adding mini chocolate chips that melt into the cake intensifies the flavor even more. Cut any leftover cake into cubes and layer it in glasses with sweetened whipped cream, fresh raspberries, and a touch of chocolate sauce for pretty individual trifles. 8 servings 2¼ cups unbleached all purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder ¾ teaspoon coarse kosher salt ¼ teaspoon baking soda ½ cup sour cream ½ cup whole milk ¼ cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder ¼ cup honey 2 tablespoons boiling water ¾ cup sugar ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature 2 large eggs 1 teaspoon vanilla extract ½ cup mini semisweet chocolate chips Position rack in center of oven; preheat to 350°F. Butter and flour 9×5×3-inch metal loaf pan; tap out excess flour. Whisk flour, baking powder, coarse salt, and baking soda in medium bowl. Whisk sour cream and milk in small bowl. Sift cocoa into another small bowl. Whisk in honey and 2 tablespoons boiling water until smooth. Cool completely. Using electric mixer, beat sugar and butter in another medium bowl until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Beat in eggs 1 at a time, occasionally scraping down sides of bowl. Beat in vanilla. Add cooled cocoa mixture; stir until smooth, occasionally scraping down bowl. Beat in flour mixture alternately with sour cream mixture in 2 additions each until just blended. Stir in chocolate chips. Transfer batter to prepared pan; smooth top. Bake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 1 hour 8 minutes. Remove cake from pan and cool.
Barbara Fairchild (Bon Appetit Desserts)
She stood fluidly and semiglided out of the room. Despite her size, Mabel moved with the unlabored grace of a natural athlete. Horace too moved like that, blending bulk with finesse in an almost poetic way. She was gone for less than a minute, and when she returned, she handed him a photograph. Myron looked down. A
Harlan Coben (One False Move (Myron Bolitar, #5))
We soar the skies Free to a certain extent, As long as we stay hidden From prying human eyes. Our scales differ in color Our defensive weapons, Tails, horns, talons and all, Are never the same. We are one with nature We blend in with nature The wind helps us soar high in the heavens While the earth grant us healing strength in our hour of need. We are one with the world We are the guardians of our kin When evil conspire to maim and hurt We are protectors of this human race. As majestic animals of fairytales We share our beings with great men They walk in honor and the grace of Fate, Fate that we cannot deny.
Julia Mills (Her Dragon To Slay (Dragon Guards, #1))
Brent about Ev: "I was fire and she was ice...Everly and I were the red and blue that blended seamlessly together to create a whole different color.
Kara Liane (A Force of Nature (Tryst of Fate, #2))
Personal Development The ultimate goal of my development: To realize that we all are unconditionally and equally loved (accepted and appreciated for who we are) and that our worth and well-being come from within. How I can further my personal development: Paying attention to my own needs and well-being. Using anger/resistance as a signal that I feel discounted and that something inside me matters. Noticing feelings I may be blocking out when I turn from my real priorities to substitutes, such as TV, food, errands, or chores. Noticing when my ruminating keeps me from setting priorities and taking action on them. Accepting discomfort and change as a natural part of life. Practicing loving myself kindly and equally to loving others. What hinders my personal development: Feeling that I don’t count. Feeling that I don’t deserve to pursue my own agenda. Giving everything equal importance and, consequently, missing my real priorities. Avoiding the discomfort and disruption required for change. At the core, believing that to be valued and loved I must blend in and go along to get along. How others can support my development: Encouraging me to express my own position. Asking me what I want and what is good for me, and giving me time to figure out the answer. Supporting me when I act responsibly toward myself. Allowing me to acknowledge my anger. Encouraging me to set and keep my own boundaries, limits, and priorities.
David N. Daniels (The Essential Enneagram: The Definitive Personality Test and Self-Discovery Guide -- Revised & Updated)
As Christians in America, we’re often lulled into the false belief that somehow we have a monopoly on the pure and undiluted version of the message of Jesus. Unfortunately, we don’t. Christianity by nature has a tendency to blend in and become obscured by the cultural influences that surround it—such has been the case for nearly 2,000 years of Christian history.
Benjamin L. Corey (Undiluted: Rediscovering the Radical Message of Jesus)
know so well that human nature is human nature everywhere, whether under tile or thatch, and that in every specimen of human nature that breathes, vice and virtue are ever found blended, in smaller or greater proportions, and that the proportion is not determined by station. I have seen villains who were rich, and I have seen villains who were poor, and I have seen villains who were neither rich nor poor,
Emily Brontë (THE BRONTE SISTERS - The Complete Novels (illustrated))
If the human body can act like its own pharmacy, producing its own pain drugs, then might it not also be true that it’s fully capable of dispensing other natural drugs when they’re needed from the infinite blend of chemicals and healing compounds it houses—drugs that act just like the ones doctors prescribe or maybe even better than the drugs doctors prescribe?
Joe Dispenza (You Are the Placebo: Making Your Mind Matter)
his personality there is a complex blending of force and grace, of animal passion and mental clearness, of northern common sense with the promptings of an oriental imagination; and this union in his nature of seeming opposites explains many of the mysteries of his life. Fortunately for lovers of romance, genius cannot be wholly analyzed,
J. Holland Rose (The Life of Napoleon I, Volume 1 of 2)
Hibiscus: Coconut oil and hibiscus are the key to the thick mane of hair we see in individuals living in Kerala, India. Hibiscus has reviving properties – it feeds hair, anticipates untimely greying, and helps cure dandruff. Standard utilization of the blooms can help forestall balding as well. Crush a couple of blooms of hibiscus and blend with sesame oil or coconut oil to make a fine mixture. Apply this to the scalp and hair, leave on for a couple of hours, and then flush with cool water and a mellow cleanser. Have a go at utilizing hibiscus as a part of your approach to helping control male pattern baldness.
Emily Kirk (Natural Hair: How to Grow Long and Healthy Hair: Natural Hair-Care Recipes for Hair Growth and Health)
The image of pollution suggests bringing together what ought to be kept apart. To pollute soil, air, or water is to blend into them foreign materials — machine oil, for example — so that these natural resources no longer nourish or delight very well. Similarly, the introduction of a third lover into a marriage or an idol into the natural human relation to God adds a foreign agent to them; it corrupts these entities by addition.
Cornelius Plantinga Jr. (Not the Way It's Supposed to Be : A Breviary of Sin)
Let the children walk with Nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life.” —John Muir   Many
Loren Mayshark (Death: An Exploration: Learning To Embrace Life's Most Feared Mystery (Death, Dying, Grieving, Grief, Mortality, Loss, Coping with Death Book 1))
A view often implicit in form approaches holds that only generative algorithmic models, specifying unique outputs from given inputs, are scientific, so that the underdetermined nature of blending, as we analyze it, brands our theory as unscientific. This objection is simply wrong. Theories of probability, subatomic particles, chaos, complex adaptive systems, evolution, immunology, and many others could not get off the ground as sciences if they were required to offer models in which the specified inputs determined unique outputs
Gilles Fauconnier (The Way We Think: Conceptual Blending and The Mind's Hidden Complexities)
deliberately prepared and honed from the contrast of your life experience), for there is much that we want to convey to our physical friends. We want you to understand the magnificence of your Being, and we want you to understand who-you-really-are and why you have come forth into this physical dimension. It is always an interesting experience to explain to our physical friends those things that are of a Non-Physical nature, because everything that we offer to you must then be translated through the lens of your physical world. In other words, Esther receives our thoughts, like radio signals, at an unconscious level of her Being, and then translates them into physical words and concepts. It is a perfect blending of the physical and Non-Physical that is occurring here. As we are able to help you understand the existence of the Non-Physical realm from which we are speaking, we will thereby assist you in understanding more clearly who-you-are. For you are, indeed, an extension of that which we are. There are many of us here, and we are gathered together because of our current matching intentions and desires. In your physical environment, we are called Abraham, and we are known as Teachers, meaning those who are currently broader in understanding, who may lead others to that broader understanding. We know that words do not teach, that only life experience teaches, but the combination of life experience coupled with words that define and explain can enhance the experience of learning—and it is in that spirit that we offer these words. There are Universal Laws that affect everything in the Universe—everything that is Non-Physical and everything that is physical. These Laws are absolute, they are Eternal, and they are omnipresent (or everywhere). When you have a conscious awareness of these Laws, and a working understanding of them, your life experience is tremendously enhanced. In fact, only when you have a conscious working knowledge of these Laws are you able to be the Deliberate Creator of your own life experience. You Have an Inner Being While you certainly are the physical Being that you see here in your physical setting, you are much more than that which you see with your physical eyes. You are actually an extension of NonPhysical Source Energy. In other words, that broader, older, wiser Non-Physical you is now also focused into the physical Being that you know as you. We refer to the Non-Physical part of you as your Inner Being. Physical Beings often think of themselves as either dead or alive, and in that line of thinking they sometimes acknowledge that they existed in the Non-Physical realm before coming forth into their physical body, and that, following their physical death, they will return to that Non-Physical realm. But few people actually understand that the Non-Physical part of them remains currently, powerfully, and predominantly focused in the Non-Physical realm while a part of that perspective flows into this physical perspective and their now physical body. An understanding of both of these perspectives and their relationship to each other is essential for a true understanding of whoyou-are and of how to understand what you have intended as you came forth into this physical body. Some call that Non-Physical part the “Higher Self” or “Soul.” It matters not what you call it, but it is of great value for you to acknowledge that your Inner Being exists, for only when you consciously understand the relationship between you and your Inner Being do you have true guidance. We
Esther Hicks (The Law of Attraction: The Basics of the Teachings of Abraham)
Harp of the North, farewell! The hills grow dark, On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, The deer, half seen, are to the covert wending. Resume thy wizard elm! the fountain lending, And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy; Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending, With distant echo from the fold and lea, And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee.
Walter Scott (Lady of the Lake)
The strongest extrovert of all the blends is the SanChlor—a mix of the two extrovertish temperaments. The happy charisma of the Sanguine makes this person a people-oriented, enthusiastic sales type. But the Choleric nature will provide the resolution and character traits necessary to fashion a person more organized and productive than the pure Sanguine.
Tim LaHaye (Spirit-Controlled Temperament)
I have worked with many gifted designers and architects, but none more creative and capable ... The Nature of Design reflects Scott Lockard's rare ability to blend innovation and aesthetics with practicality.
--D.J. Marini, former General Manager, Lucasfilm Ltd.
Correlations made by big data are likely to reinforce negative bias. Because big data often relies on historical data or at least the status quo, it can easily reproduce discrimination against disadvantaged racial and ethnic minorities. The propensity models used in many algorithms can bake in a bias against someone who lived in the zip code of a low-income neighborhood at any point in his or her life. If an algorithm used by human resources companies queries your social graph and positively weighs candidates with the most existing connections to a workforce, it makes it more difficult to break in in the first place. In effect, these algorithms can hide bias behind a curtain of code. Big data is, by its nature, soulless and uncreative. It nudges us this way and that for reasons we are not meant to understand. It strips us of our privacy and puts our mistakes, secrets, and scandals on public display. It reinforces stereotypes and historical bias. And it is largely unregulated because we need it for economic growth and because efforts to try to regulate it have tended not to work; the technologies are too far-reaching and are not built to recognize the national boundaries of our world’s 196 sovereign nation-states. Yet would it be best to try to shut down these technologies entirely if we could? No. Big data simultaneously helps solve global challenges while creating an entirely new set of challenges. It’s our best chance at feeding 9 billion people, and it will help solve the problem of linguistic division that is so old its explanation dates back to the Old Testament and the Tower of Babel. Big data technologies will enable us to discover cancerous cells at 1 percent the size of what can be detected using today’s technologies, saving tens of millions of lives. The best approach to big data might be one put forward by the Obama campaign’s chief technology officer, Michael Slaby, who said, “There’s going to be a constant mix between your qualitative experience and your quantitative experience. And at times, they’re going to be at odds with each other, and at times they’re going to be in line. And I think it’s all about the blend. It’s kind of like you have a mixing board, and you have to turn one up sometimes, and turn down the other. And you never want to be just one or the other, because if it’s just one, then you lose some of the soul.” Slaby has made an impressive career out of developing big data tools, but even he recognizes that these tools work best when governed by human judgment. The choices we make about how we manage data will be as important as the decisions about managing land during the agricultural age and managing industry during the industrial age. We have a short window of time—just a few years, I think—before a set of norms set in that will be nearly impossible to reverse. Let’s hope humans accept the responsibility for making these decisions and don’t leave it to the machines.
Alec J. Ross (The Industries of the Future)
All appearances are vast openness, Blissful and utterly free. With a free, happy mind I sing this song of joy. When one looks toward one's own mind - The root of all phenomena - There is nothing but vivid emptiness, Nothing concrete there to be taken as real. It is present and transparent, utter openness, Without outside, without inside - An all pervasiveness Without boundary and without direction. The wide-open expanse of the view, The true condition of the mind, Is like the sky, like space: Without center, without edge, without goal. By leaving whatever i experience Relaxed in ease, just as it is, I have arrived at the vast plain That is the absolute expanse. Dissolving into the expanse of emptiness That has no limits and no boundary, Everything i see, everything i hear, My own mind, and the sky all merge. Not once has the notion arisen Of these being seperate and distinct. In the absolute expanse of awareness All things are blended into that single taste - But, relatively, each and every phenomenom is distinctly, clearly seen. Wondrous!
Shabkar (The Life of Shabkar: Autobiography of a Tibetan Yogin)
Why, thou monkey," said a harpooneer to one of these lads, "we've been cruising now hard upon three years, and thou hast not raised a whale yet. Whales are scarce as hen's teeth whenever thou art up here." Perhaps they were; or perhaps there might have been shoals of them in the far horizon; but lulled into such an opium-like listlessness of vacant, unconscious reverie is this absent-minded youth by the blending cadence of waves with thoughts, that at last he loses his identity; takes the mystic ocean at his feet for the visible image of that deep, blue, bottomless soul, pervading mankind and nature; and every strange, half-seen, gliding, beautiful thing that eludes him; every dimly-discovered, uprising fin of some undiscernible form, seems to him the embodiment of those elusive thoughts that only people the soul by continually flitting through it.
Herman Melville (Moby Dick; or, the White Whale)
Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement. We
The ideal potential convert is the individual who stands alone, who has no collective body he can blend with and lose himself in and so mask the pettiness, meaninglessness and shabbiness of his individual existence.
Eric Hoffer (The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements)
A realm that is beautiful and spiritual, sustaining and transforming- we take for granted those attitudes toward the wild, but they were all but unknown in the West before the Deists and Romantics. Instead the wild was generally seen as loathsome and hideous, fearsome and threatening, desolate and evil and devilish. Hence, romantic and deist thought represents a transformation in our relationship to the natural world so profound it is difficult now to imagine it. Alexander von Humboldt was an international superstar, and his hugely influential science dispensed with God or the divine and proposed that romantic awe in the face of sublime wilderness derives from our “communion with nature” as a magisterial presence, “a unity in diversity of phenomena; a harmony, blending together all created things, one great whole animated by the breath of life.” Humboldt’s revolutionary ideas…were transformative for Thoreau, and for Walt Whitman, who kept Humboldt’s books on his desk as he wrong “Song of Myself.
David Hinton (The Wilds of Poetry: Adventures in Mind and Landscape)
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· · · Taoist union. Farmer’s dependence. Alexandrian pillage. Relationships in the mandala come in multifarious, blended hues. The line between bandit and honest citizen is not as easily drawn as it first seems. Indeed, evolution has drawn no line. All life melds plunder and solidarity. Parasitic brigands are nourished by cooperative mitochondria within. Algae suffuse emerald from ancient bacteria and surrender inside gray fungal walls. Even the chemical ground of life, DNA, is a maypole of color, a Gordian knot of relationships.
David George Haskell (The Forest Unseen: A Year's Watch in Nature)
I don’t mind the UKB stepping in and fixing the baby’s DNA at the nursery, if necessary. But I don’t want the heartless AI deciding what blend of our traits we pass onto our child. I want it to be as natural and random as possible
Erasmo Acosta (K3+)
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What did Herr Settembrini think of the term "illusion" - a state in which elements of dream and reality were blended in a way that was perhaps less foreign to nature than to our crude everyday thoughts? The secret of life was literally bottomless, and it was no wonder, then, that occasionally there rose up out of it illusions that - and so on and so forth, in our hero's amiably self-effacing and exceedingly easy manner. Herr Settembrini hauled him over the coals quite properly and managed to firm up his conscience at least temporarily, extracting something like a promise never again to participate in such horrors. "Pay attention," he demanded, "to the human being inside you, my good engineer. Trust its clear and and humane thoughts and abhor this wrenching of the brain, this intellectual swamp. Illusions? Secret of life? Caro mio! When the moral courage to decide and differentiate between fraud and reality begins to melt away, that marks the end of life itself, of formed opinions, of values, of any improving deed, and the corruptive process of moral skepticism begins its awful work." Man was the measure of all things, he added, Man had an inalienable right to make knowledgeable judgements about good and evil, about truth and the sham of lies, and woe anyone who dared confound his fellow-man's belief in that creative right.
Thomas Mann (The Magic Mountain)
I pay homage to and take refuge in the pure ground that is empty and devoid of the bearers of the nature of phenomena, the nature of phenomena, suchness, the great bliss of self-arising wisdom—the final purity, self, bliss, and permanence—that is the partless omnipresent pervader, the single blend of expanse and wisdom without any flaws of contradiction and beyond mundane examples, dependent origination, dialectics, and consciousness, the sphere of personally experienced wisdom, the ultimate sugata heart resembling the eight mirror divinations, the inseparability of [saṃsāric] existence and peace in which the many are one taste and that incorporates all ultimate buddhas, dharmas, saṃghas, deities, mantras, tantras, maṇḍalas, and mudrās, the natural luminosity that is the inseparability of saṃsāra and nirvāṇa, as well as the inseparability of the two realities, and in which there is nothing to be removed or to be added, natural connateness, natural changelessness, great nirvāṇa, great Madhyamaka, Mahāmudrā, profound prajñāpāramitā, and the other-empty dharmakāya that pervades all of space. Among these profound words of the Buddha that clearly teach those [topics], here the five tathāgatagarbha sūtras are . . .
Karl Brunnholzl (When the Clouds Part: The Uttaratantra and Its Meditative Tradition as a Bridge between Sutra and Tantra (Tsadra))
There was another reason for mating the Twelve. Each of them was only a fragment of a man—not one of them was full-rounded, a complete man, strong at every point. Each had a strength of his own, with a corresponding weakness. Then Jesus yoked them together so that each two made one good man. The hasty, impetuous, self-confident Peter needed the counterbalancing of the cautious, conservative Andrew. Thomas the doubter was matched by Matthew the strong believer. It was not an accidental grouping by which the Twelve fell into six parts. Jesus knew what was in man; and he yoked these men together in a way which brought out the best that was in each of them, and by thus blending their lives, turned their very faults and weaknesses into beauty and strength. He did not try to make them all alike. He made no effort to have Peter grow quiet and gentle like John, or Thomas become an enthusiastic, unquestioning believer like Matthew, He sought for each man's personality, and developed that. He knew that to try to recast Peter's tremendous energy into staidness and caution would only rob him of what was best in his nature. He found room in his apostle family for as many different types of temperament as there were men, setting the frailties of one over against the excessive virtues of the other.
J.R. Miller (Personal Friendships of Jesus)
In the end only the urge for self-preservation can conquer… Mankind has grown great in eternal struggle, and only in eternal peace does it perish…. Nature… puts living creatures on this globe and watches the free play of forces. She then confers the master’s right on her favorite child, the strongest in courage and industry… The stronger must dominate and not blend with the weaker, thus sacrificing his own greatness. Only the born weakling can view this as cruel…” For Hitler the preservation of culture “is bound up with the rigid law of necessity and the right to victory of the best and strongest in the world. Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight, in this world of eternal struggle, do not deserve to live. Even if this were hard—that is how it is!”12
William L. Shirer (The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich)
Chip Schacter, Jawaharlal O’Shea, and Warren Reeves. Chip, being two years older, was the biggest, toughest, and sneakiest of us. Jawa was the smartest and the best athlete. Warren wasn’t really a very good spy at all. I’d invited him along only because Zoe said that if I didn’t, we’d never hear the end of it. (He was pretty talented at camouflage, though. It came naturally to him. He was wearing a white outfit that blended in with the snow so well, we’d already lost him twice in the motel parking lot.)
Stuart Gibbs (Spy Ski School (Spy School))
When you love something like reading—or drawing or music or nature—it surrounds you with a sense of connection to something great. If you are lucky enough to know this, then your search for meaning involves whatever that Something is. It’s an alchemical blend of affinity and focus that takes us to a place within that feels as close as we ever get to “home.
Anne Lamott (Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair)
Genetically speaking, individuals and groups are like clouds in the sky or dust-storms in the desert. They are temporary aggregations or federations. They are not stable through evolutionary time. Populations may last a long while, but they are constantly blending with other populations and so losing their identity. They are also subject to evolutionary change from within. A population is not a discrete enough entity to be a unit of natural selection, not stable and unitary enough to be ‘selected’ in preference to another population.
Richard Dawkins (The Selfish Gene)
For the pre-release 'God 4.0: On the Nature of Higher Consciousness and the Experimence called God' -- “In a compelling blend of solid psychological science and surprisingly universal religious practice, God 4.0 reveals rarified insights into a uniquely human form of consciousness. It is mind blowing, indeed.
Robert Cialdini, author of Influence and Pre-Suasion
Rising Loaf, one of Ernakulam's greatest bakeries, creates handcrafted premium made-to-order baked delicacies free of preservatives and additives. Custom cakes, superb gourmet sweets, and delicacies are available. Our blends are one-of-a-kind because they combine a lot of skill and expertise with natural baking ingredients to give you the best sweetness and taste experience possible. Sandwich Bread Supplier in Ernakulam are committed to making the highest-quality breads with no artificial preservatives, colors, or flavors. We take pride in providing an exceptional experience to all of our clients, big and small.
Rising Loaf
In your thinking, learn to blend the analytical with the intuitive in order to become more creative.
Robert Greene (The Daily Laws: 366 Meditations on Power, Seduction, Mastery, Strategy, and Human Nature)
Brownies in Ernakulam One of Ernakulam's best bakeries, Rising Loaf, provides handcrafted premium made-to-order baked treats that are free of preservatives and additives. Custom cakes, delicacies, and gourmet sweets are available. Our blends are one-of-a-kind because they mix a great deal of skill and expertise with natural baking ingredients to provide you with the best sweetness and taste. We take pride in giving every one of our clients, big and small, an amazing experience. Brownies in Ernakulam is committed to making high-quality bread devoid of artificial preservatives, colours, or flavours. All of our bread loaves, cakes, cookies, doughnuts and muffins, and cupcakes are lovingly created in Ernakulam's cleanest environment. The fullness of our clients' grins when they try our exquisite items and return for more is how we define success at Rising Loaf. They're the cherry on top of our cake, the driving force behind our efforts to improve our baking and customer service. To maintain the authentic taste and fresh flavours, we are captivated by using only high-quality and fresh ingredients in our confectioneries. The fullness of our clients' grins when they try our exquisite items and return for more is how we define success at Rising Loaf. They're the cherry on top of our cake, the driving force behind our efforts to improve our baking and customer service. Rising Loaf, one of Ernakulam's best bakeries, was created by friends with a passion for baking with the purpose of making handcrafted premium baked products that are completely free of harmful food preservatives and additives and delivering them to your door.
Risingloaf far, the sunflowers blended into one another, creating a solid carpet of golden yellow. Somewhere out there was my future. I couldn't see it. But I knew it was there. And for the first time ever, I was excited to go out and find it.
Tanya Guerrero (All You Knead Is Love)