Collie Quotes

If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.

A dog – a collie – went up to Eric, looked up at his face, and growled. “Shoo,” Eric said, making an imperious gesture with his hand.

Honestly, Jared, one thing at a time. Why are you in a well with me? This is a really bad rescue!" [...] "I called the police as I was running to the well. I'm sure they're coming." "Did they say they were coming?" Kami asked suspiciously. "Or did you shout, 'Kami's in the well!' before jumping in the well too, thus loosing your phone and making sure the police think it was some kids playing a dumb joke?" Jared paused. [...] "Alternate plan," Jared said. "Do you have a very intelligent collie who might communicate through a system of barks to your parents that little Kami is in the well?

Possessing a creative mind, after all, is something like having a border collie for a pet: It needs to work, or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble. Give your mind a job to do, or else it will find a job to do, and you might not like the job it invents (eating the couch, digging a hole through the living room floor, biting the mailman, etc.). It has taken me years to learn this, but it does seem to be the case that if I am not actively creating something, then I am probably actively destroying something (myself, a relationship, or my own peace of mind).

How's that brother of yours?" Gratton asks me. "Which one?" "The heroic one with the cart." I sigh so deeply that the collie licks my face to cure me. "Oh, Finn.

Did I ever tell you that I want to wear a big yellow smiley-face mask and then put on the CD version of Bobby McFerrin’s ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ and then take a girl and a dog—a collie, a chow, a sharpei, it doesn’t really matter—and then hook up this transfusion pump, this IV set, and switch their blood, you know, pump the dog’s blood into the hardbody and vice versa, did I ever tell you this?

Brief as the lightning in the collied night; That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and Earth, And ere a man hath power to say "Behold!" The jaws of darkness do devour it up. So quick bright things come to confusion.

O hell! to choose love by another's eyes!" "Or, if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentany as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream; Brief as the lighting in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath pwer to say, 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up: So quick bright things come to confusion.

Uphill? There's nothing up the hill," Colly said, trying desperately to work out where this conversation was going. "As a matter of fact, there is. There's a bluff about twelve meters high, with a river running below it. The water's deep, so it'll be quite safe for you to jump." In his brief glimpse of the river, Halt had noticed that the fast-flowing water cut under the bluff in a sharp curve. That should mean that the bottom had been scoured out over the years. A thought struck him. "You can swim, I assume?" "Yes. I can swim," Colly said. "But I'm going jumping off some bluff just because you say to!" "No, no. Of course not. That'd be asking far too much of you. You'll jump off because if you don't, I'll shoot you. It'll be the same effect, really. If I have to shoot you, you'll fall off. But I thought I'd give you a chance to survive." Halt paused, then added, "Oh, and if you decide to run downhill, I'll also shoot you with an arrow. Uphill and off is really your only chance of survival." "You can't be serious!" Colly said. "Do you really-" But he got no further. Halt leaned forward, putting a hand up to stop the outburst. "Colly, take a good, long look into my eyes and tell me if you see anything, anything at all, that says I'm not deadly serious." His eyes were deep brown, almost black. They were steady and unwavering and there was no sign of anything there but utter determination. Colly looked at them and after a few second, his eyes dropped away. halt nodded as the other man's gaze slid away from his. "Good. Now we've got that settled, you should try to get some sleep. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.

Everything is inspiration. If you look at the world as the incredible place it is, then each moment is a feast.

I suspect if I had owned a border collie, this story would have a very different ending, and I probably would not have been around to type it up. But I had Bongo, and he saved our lives because he is simple and made of nose.

Never been around dogs much. My mom had a collie when I was a boy, but she was a gentle animal who stayed around the house, mostly. My father, and the men he knew, all had braces of big surly hunting dogs they used for going after wild hogs. The times he took me with him on those hunts, I was more afraid of those dogs than the feral hogs. Think they could sense it. Always felt like they would’ve taken the least opportunity to sink their teeth into me.

you're quite wrong there, Collie. One does miss sex. The body has a life of it's own. We do miss what we haven't had, you and I. Biologically. Ask Sigmund Freud. It is revealed in dreams. The absent touch of warm limbs at night, the absent

...the only brotherhood they belonged to was the one that asked that enduring question: How do I get through the next twenty minutes? They feared drys, cops, jailers, bosses, moralists, crazies, truth-tellers, and one another. they loved storytellers, liars, whores, fighters, singers, collie dogs that wagged their tails, and generous bandits. Rudy, thought Francis: he's just a bum, but who ain't?

And like any dog, like any savage, I lay there enjoying myself, harming no man, selling nothing, competing not at all, thinking no evil, smiled on by the sun, bent over by the trees, and softly folded in the arms of the earth.

Good men are a bit like border collies: we're happiest when we're useful. That's why the life of a good man involves constant striving for direction and meaning.

Possessing a creative mind, after all, is something like having a border collie for a pet: It needs to work, or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble.

Which one hadn't he walked down? Was it Barkovitch? Collie Parker? Percy What'shisname? Who was it? 'GARRATY!' the crowd screamed deliriously. 'GARRATY, GARRATY, GARRATY!' Was it Scramm? Gribble? Davidson? A hand on his shoulder. Garraty shook it off impatiently. The dark figure beckoned, beckoned in the rain, beckoned for him to come and walk, to come and play the game. And it was time to get started. There was still so far to walk.

Had it been just the two of us with the flock, I am sure it would have been a complete disaster. But Louie came with a helper, partner, friend, second brain: a border collie named (he must have wanted the similarities in names) Louise, and she quickly—after watching me for a moment and seeing how useless I was—took over completely.

To high-drive labs and boarder collies, fetch is often more than just a game; it's their job, a dead serious business.

I didn’t bother tellin her no made-up story, because she always sees through em and has since I was knee-high to a collie.

Well, I've known over thirty men who've found out how to cure consumption. Why do people go on dying of it, Colly? Devilment I suppose!

Collis, unaware that he was without a wedding garment, heralded his arrival with: "I reckon I'm late--the beyed has flown.

The collie-dog Kep met her coming out, "What are you doing with those onions? Where do you go every afternoon by yourself, Jemima Puddle-duck?" Jemima

The master rode alone that day; and in the woods, side by side, White Fang ran with Collie, as his mother, Kiche, and old One Eye had run long years before in the silent Northland forest.

Possessing a creative mind, after all, is something like having a border collie for a pet: It needs work, or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble. Give your mind a job to do, or else it will find a job to do, and you might not like the job it invents (eating the couch, digging a hole through the living room floor, biting the mailman, etc.). It has taken me years to learn this, but it does seem to be the case that if I am not actively creating something, then I am probably actively destroying something (myself, a relationship, or my own peace of mind).

Frederica tells the park-keepers that Lufra is a purebred "Barcelona collie". Alverstoke catches on and says "No, Frederica! I TOLD you--it is a HOUND, from Baluchistan!" She: "Oh, you might have mentioned it was from ASIA! Very remote; the dog had to be smuggled out because the natives were hostile.

after thirty years' hostile fellowship with Collie, of course she did quite well understand that collie had a habit of skipping several stages in the logical sequence of her thoughts and would utter apparently disconnected statements, especially when confused by unfamiliar subject or the presence of a man

Forse un mattino andando in un'aria di vetro, arida, rivolgendomi, vedrò compirsi il miracolo: il nulla alle mie spalle, il vuoto dietro di me, con un terrore di ubriaco. Poi come s'uno schermo, s'accamperanno di gitto alberi case colli per l'inganno consueto. Ma sarà troppo tardi; ed io me n'andrò zitto tra gli uomini che non si voltano, col mio segreto.

Mine. It's all mine.

I do believe in the power of prayer. I do. And I believe in the power of human kindness.

The text-book is rare that stimulates its reader to ask, Why is this so? Or, How does this connect with what has been read elsewhere?

Or if there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it, Making it momentany as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night, That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And, ere a man hath power to say ‘Behold!’ The jaws of darkness do devour it up. So quick bright things come to confusion

I ran from the barn out through the herd to make certain and saw that the coyote was really dead, as was the sheep, but I ran smack into what makes border collies the incredible beings that they are. Louise grabbed at the coyote’s neck, growling, and having made certain that it was dead, tried to bring the sheep back to life. She pulled at the ewe, trying to lift her to her feet, nudged at her ribs in a kind of crude CPR,

Passavamo sulla terra leggeri come acqua, disse Antonio Setzu, come acqua che scorre, salta, giù dalla conca piena della fonte, scivola e serpeggia fra muschi e felci, fino alle radici delle sughere e dei mandorli o scende scivolando sulle pietre, per i monti e i colli fino al piano, dai torrenti al fiume, a farsi lenta verso le paludi e il mare, chiamata in vapore dal sole a diventare nube dominata dai venti e pioggia benedetta. A parte la follia di ucciderci l'un l'altro per motivi irrilevanti, eravamo felici. Le piante e le paludi erano fertili, i monti ricchi di pascolo e fonti. Il cibo non mancava neppure negli anni di carestia. Facevamo un vino colore del sangue, dolce al palato e portatore di sogni allegri. Nel settimo giorno del mese del vento che piega le querce incontravamo tutte le genti attorno alla fonte sacra e per sette giorni e sette notti mangiavamo, bevevamo, cantavamo e danzavamo in onore di Is. Cantare, suonare, danzare, coltivare, raccogliere, mungere, intagliare, fondere, uccidere, morire, cantare, suonare, danzare era la nostra vita. Eravamo felici, a parte la follia di ucciderci l'un l'altro per motivi irrilevanti. (pag. 56)

Our academic home was simple in its appointments, —so simple that Joy-of-Life and I often merrily quoted to each other the comment of a calling freshman: "When I'm old, I mean to have a dear little house just like this one, all furnished with nothing but books.

You can't always be a hero," he whispered. "Sometimes just surviving is the best that you can do.

I have a writer’s concentration: intense, but flickering.

What do you get when you cross a Rottweiler with a Collie? A dog who bites off your arm and goes to get help.

He’d try to keep it light. “Kate, if you’re going to call my border collie your baby every time you see her, maybe we should marry and make the poor dog legit.

Collie hound pups about as cute as baby bunnies and confused about whether to herd or nap?

Time with Rosemary was self-indulgence - time with Collis was nothing plus nothing.

This book would not have been made without the tireless mentoring and rare friendship of Christian Bok, Steven Collis and Nicole Markotic.

Collies, coffee and, murder most foul!

Eight-year-olds playing soccer, Teddy decided, was a lot like a pack of border collies chasing a single sheep, except that the dogs would’ve used more teamwork.

A border collie is a good thing to have if you don’t want to be the most neurotic being in the house.

Good guys and terrible guys seem to be stupid at the same ratio.” “Bodee’s not.” “Bodee doesn’t count. He was raised by wolves on Neptune or something,” I argue. “Yeah. Back to Collie.

When I was seven years old, my family moved to North Carolina. When he was seven years old, Hugh’s family moved to the Congo. We had a collie and a house cat. They had a monkey and two horses named Charlie Brown and Satan. I threw stones at stop signs. Hugh threw stones at crocodiles. The verbs are the same, but he definitely wins the prize when it comes to nouns and objects.

They were both questing for the behavior that was proper to their station and their unutterable dreams. They both knew intimately the etiquette, the taboos, the protocol of bums. By their talk to each other they understood that they shared a belief in the brotherhood of the desolate; yet in the scars of their eyes they confirmed that no such fraternity had ever existed, that the only brotherhood they belonged to was the one that asked the enduring question: How do I get through the next twenty minutes? They feared drys, cops, jailers, bosses, moralists, crazies, truth-tellers, and one another. They loved storytellers, liars, whores, fighters, singers, collie dogs that wagged their tails, and generous bandits. Rudy, thought Francis, he’s just a bum, but who ain’t?

Sempre,sempre le strade vanno avanti, su rocce e sotto piante, a costeggiare antri che di ogni luce son mancanti, lungo ruscelli che non vanno al mare, sopra la neve che d'inverno cade, in mezzo ai fiori felici dell'estate, sopra la pietra e prati di rugiade sotto montagne di lune inondate. Sempre,sempre le strade vanno avanti sotto le nubi e la volta stellata, ma i piedi incerti,nel cammino erranti volgono infine alla dimora amata. Gli occhi che han visto spade e fiamme ardenti ed in sale di pietra orrori ignoti, guardano infine i pascoli ridenti e gli alberi ed i colli tanto noti

The Master talked of buying a whalebone-and-steel-and-snow bull terrier, or a more formidable if more greedy Great Dane. But the Mistress wanted a collie. So they compromised by getting the collie.

Dawson dera um pontapé na terra solta. "Quando se ama uma pessoa, devemos liberta-la. Certo?". Pela primeira vez os olhos dela dardejaram. "E se essa pessoa não quiser ser libertada, vai ser obrigada na mesma? É assim que vês a situação? Como uma espécie de cliché?" Agarrara-o pelo braço, cravando-lhe os dedos. "Nós não somos um cliché. Havemos de encontrar uma solução para que possa funcionar.

Non m'è assolutamente possibile ridirvi la bellezza, la grazia, i ricchi ornamenti coi quali la mia amata Zoraide si mostrò ai miei occhi [...] ai colli dei piedi [...] portava due carcadi d'oro finissimo con tanti diamanti

There are breeds of hunting dogs that are never so happy as when a gun is sounded. But not a collie. It seems as if this breed, having worked so long as man’s companion, has learnt that such sharp, savage sounds may mean hurt.

But we had ceased to hate. Belsen had some way cured us of all hate, at least all hate of any human creature. We had learned what evil there is in the world or beyond the world, what happens to a man or a group of men-call them a nation if you will- when they have given themselves over to the powers of evil, when they have denied the Christ.

Dick was always vividly conscious of his surroundings, while Collis Clay lived vaguely, the sharpest impressions dissolving upon a recording apparatus that had early atrophied, so the former talked and the latter listened, like a man sitting in a breeze.

The collie heard the word “lass,” and barked at it. The pedlar shook his head. “Nay, that’s the pity of it. Ye can understand some o’ man’s language, but man isn’t bright enough to understand thine. And yet it’s us that’s supposed to be most intelligent!

Let memories of your own hometown flow back to you as you read this fascinating story, "A Place called Gouyave," about the author's recollection of the characters, stories and the lessons learnt in his hometown during his youth on the Caribbean island of Grenada.

As I stare into the Border collie’s eyes, I think that maybe I should go inside and call the girls. Claire, Cindy, and Jill would be here almost before I hung up the phone. They would hold me, hug me, say all the right things. You’re special, Lindsay. Everybody loves you, Lindsay.

I could feel the warmth of the dog through my nightgown; I must have gotten hot during the night and thrown off the sheet. I drowsily patted the animal's head and began to stroke his fur, my fingers running idly through the thick hair. He wriggled even closer, sniffed my face, put his arm around me. His *arm*? I was off the bed and shrieking in one move. In my bed, Sam propped himself on his elbows, sunny side up, and looked at me with some amusement. "Oh, ohmyGod! Sam, how'd you get here? What are you doing? Where's Dean?" I covered my face with my hands and turned back, but I'd certainly seen all there was to see of Sam. "Woof," said Sam, from a human throat, and the truth stomped over me in combat boots. I whirled back to face him, so angry I felt like I was going to blow a gasket. "You watched me undress last night, you ... you ... damn dog!

Willy's sidekick was a hodgepodge of genetic strains – part collie, part Labrador, part spaniel, part canine puzzle – and to make matters worse, there were burrs protruding from his ragged coat, bad smells emanating from his mouth, and a perpetual bloodshot sadness lurking in his eyes.

He raced on down High Street, and now Lassie seemed to catch his enthusiasm. She ran beside him, leaping high in the air, barking that sharp cry of happiness that dogs often can achieve. Her mouth was stretched wide, as collies so frequently do in their glad moments, and in a way that makes collie owners swear that their dogs laugh when pleased.

He was Sunnybank Lad; eighty-pound collie; tawny and powerful; with absurdly tine white forepaws and with a Soul looking out from his deep-set dark eyes. Chum and housemate he was to two human gods; - a dog, alone of all worshipers, having the privilege of looking on the face of his gods and of communing with them without the medium of priest or of prayer.

It is not the job of the dog trainer to summon the dog’s generics, not to impose man’s will over dog’s. It may be worth noting that many Scottish hill dogs never know the weight

It’s the season. We share what we’ve got.

There are easier ways, you know, of showing how much inferior you are to a dog than by kicking him.

Jane kneels and kisses her soiled son. David does not look at her. It is as though, however, he is dreaming of looking at her.

Deene had a refreshing ignorance concerning collies; and indeed of nineteen dog-breeds out of twenty. But he had an equally refreshing faith in himself to give wise decisions on any and all canine matters. So, obligingly, he consented to judge collies at Greenwold in addition to his beloved and ultra-tiny Chihuahuas. A similar thing has been done too often to call for comment.

hawk being chased by a crow that was being tailed by a mockingbird, and, to her astonishment, a determined hummingbird brought up the rear like a border collie herding the whole bunch out of his territory. Hummingbirds’ inclination to take on creatures one hundred times their size is the key to their survival. Without their oversize aggression, these mini-flyweights would not stand a chance

She lived upstairs in the farmhouse; guests and visitors occupied the B&B rooms downstairs. She kept crates tucked all over the house, in which herding dogs-border collies and shepherds-slept while waiting to work, exercise, or play. These working dogs, I'd come to learn, led lives very different from my dogs'. Carolyn let them out several times a day to exercise and eliminate, but generally, they were out of crates only to train or herd sheep. While they were out, Carolyn tossed a cup of kibble into their crates for them to eat when they returned. I asked her once if she left the lights on for the dogs when she went out, and she looked at me curiously. "Why? They don't read... Still, they were everywhere. If you bumped into a sofa it might growl or thump. Some of her crew were puppies; some were strange rescue dogs.

Pregnancy made her feel too much like an animal. It was embarrassing to be so publicly colonized. Her face felt on fire during hormone surges. She perspired; her makeup ran. The entire process was a holdover from more primitive stages of development. It linked her with the lower forms of life. She thought of queen bees spewing eggs. She thought of the collie next door, digging its hole in the backyard last spring.

This was plain as plain to Dick. He looked around, hoping his eye would catch on something, so that spirit instead of imagination could carry on for an hour. But there was nothing and after a moment he turned back to Collis. He has told Collis some of his current notions, and he was bored with his audience’s short memory and lack of response. After half an hour of Collis he felt a distinct lesion of his own vitality.

The trainer Tony Illey has said, “The most difficult thing I ever saw a dog do was bring a ewe who’d just lost her lamb through a field full of lambing ewes.” Let me offer a gloss: Ewes with new lambs are extremely protective of their lambs and often charge a dog. When they lose sight of their lamb, they assume the dog has killed it, and despite his teeth will try determinedly to trample him. A ewe who’s lost her lamb will rush back and forth seeking it, bleating to other newborn lambs trying to collect one. The other mothers are confused by this, and when the dog gets near them they, too, go on the attack. Unlike Tony Illey, I don’t think what this dog did was difficult. It was impossible. Knowing that the dog can read sheep better than any man and can react much quicker than any man, what commands would you give him? Correct answer: his name.

Guarda i quartieri moderni fuori le mura scendere dai colli al mare oleoso e verde cupo, i bei palazzi e portici dei tempi di Baccaredda (scrittore e sindaco, amato e carogna) e il lascito architettonico di quest’epoca ai futuri: il cubo luttuoso e vitreo che nasconde i vicoli del porto e offende il municipio bianco e danzante cui si è affiancato con protervia da funzionario viceregio d’altri tempi (non è escluso che i futuri decidano di amarlo e cantarlo… o lo smonteranno vetrata per vetrata e lo sposteranno in campagna oltre Palli e invece delle nere geometrie che spengono la luce e l’allegria vedranno panchine, fontane, palme e jacarandas?). Ruggero Gunale guarda la città che si allontana. Saluta torri pisane e campanili. Sillaba a se stesso: “La mitezza non incute rispetto né suscita vero compatimento. Anzi: godono a schiacciarti.” (pag. 29)

Every trainer I spoke to, though advocating methods as contradictory as Koehler and pharmacological behaviorism, agreed on four basic principles. The are magic principles, and so important that training may not help dogs living without them, while some dogs living with them require little formal training. • Magic principle #1: Don’t be nuts! • Magic principle #2: Puppies are baby dogs • Magic principle #3: Exercise your dog • Magic principle #4: Give your dog a job

Gli uomini dicono, lo so, che non vi sarà felicità finché Roma non sarà rasa al suolo sui suoi colli: cioé, i mali presenti non dipendono, come credevo, dall'ignorare Dio, ma dal malgoverno dei regnanti. Abbiamo bisogno di sentirci dire che i governi umani non sono mai amici della religione? Quanti re sono stati migliori dei loro sudditi? Ah, no, no, la redenzione non può avere uno scopo politico: abbattere governanti e sovrani e lasciare i posti vuoti solo perché altri li prendano e li godano. Se tutto fosse qui, la saggezza divina cesserebbe di essere insuperabile.

But soon Flush became aware of the more profound differences that distinguish Pisa—it was in Pisa that they were now settled—from London. The dogs were different. In London he could scarcely trot round to the pillar-box without meeting some pug dog, retriever, bulldog, mastiff, collie, Newfoundland, St. Bernard, fox terrier or one of the seven famous families of the Spaniel tribe. To each he gave a different name, and to each a different rank. But here in Pisa, though dogs abounded, there were no ranks; all—could it be possible?—were mongrels. As far as he could see, they were dogs merely—grey dogs, yellow dogs, brindled dogs, spotted dogs; but it was impossible to detect a single spaniel, collie, retriever or mastiff among them. Had the Kennel Club, then, no jurisdiction in Italy? Was the Spaniel Club unknown? Was there no law which decreed death to the topknot, which cherished the curled ear, protected the feathered foot, and insisted absolutely that the brow must be domed but not pointed? Apparently not. Flush felt himself like a prince in exile. He was the sole aristocrat among a crowd of canaille. He was the only pure-bred cocker spaniel in the whole of Pisa.

The sheepdog trial is a contest of farm and ranch dogs doing the same work they do every day at home. It's a simple test: dog runs out, gathers sheep, and fetches them to his shepherd. Dog drives the sheep through obstacles. Then dog and man sort the sheep and pen them. Any halfway decent sheepdog can do it but some are better than others

Mother, just like the last fifty-five thousand times you’ve mentioned it, I have no intention of getting married and having a family. You’re just going to have to content yourself with the grandchildren you already have.” ... ... His mother narrowed her eyes at him. He could see her mind working on how to get him to come around. She was never going to give up, and she would be fit and healthy enough to badger him about it for years and years. ... Lance had heard humans talk about the tenacity of Jewish mothers. He didn’t know any, but he’d be surprised if they could hold a candle to the relentless herding instinct of a quickened mother who was descended on both sides from border collies.

The throbbing engines of the ship and its relentless passage onwards through the sea brought back to us the ever urgency of moving Time, and then we knew that neither they nor we would would ever find again on earth such happiness and full content of mind as all we had known in the Children's Hospital at Belsen Camp when the Devil had been banished and Love crowned king.

Hard to imagine, but Dakotah herself was 99.98 percent wolf, including, you might suppose, the part of her that loved pursuing and catching things over and over at breakneck speed and delivering them back to her pack, in a faint echo of the chase. I’ve wondered if some dogs may feel a higher level of drive for such games, since it’s their only outlet for genetically programmed catch-and-kill hunting behavior. A wolf in the same situation seems more relaxed, more purely at play—certainly the case with the black wolf just then, and with other wild wolves I’ve seen. After all, wolves hunt to live, on a daily basis; fooling around with a toy is more of a break, quite separate from the serious business of living—having fun for the sheer sake of it. To high-drive Labs and border collies, fetch is often more than just a game; it’s their job, a dead serious business.

Of all the self-published UFO books I had read, hers was unique. Its profusion of self-reported, subtle realm experiences was clearly outside the traditional realm of UFOlogy, as was its inclusion of East Indian and Tibetan spiritual practices. Had someone really experienced the connection between Eastern spirituality and Western UFOlogy—that we had long suspected? Thomas and I were prepared for just about anything. But could Joy Gilbert’s subtle realm encounters have actually culminated in Enlightenment aboard a UFO? At the hands of so-called aliens?

E tu troverai alla sinistra delle case di Ade una fonte, e accanto a essa un bianco cipresso diritto: a questa fonte non accostarti neppure, da presso. E ne troverai un'altra, fredda acqua che scorre dalla palude di Mnemosine: e davanti stanno i custodi. Di' loro: Sono figlio di Terra e di Cielo stellante, inoltre la mia stirpe è Celeste; e questo sapete anche voi. Sono riarsa di sete e muoio: ma date, subito, fredda acqua che scorre dalla palude di Mnemosine. Ed essi ti lasceranno bere dalla fonte divina, e in seguito tu regnerai assieme agli altri eroi. Di Mnemosine, questo è il sepolcro..." Laminetta trovata a Petelia Oblio e memoria sono i due strumenti del dissetamento. Se si beve dalla corrente dell'oblio si dimentica tutto e si rinasce a una nuova vita, cioè la sete è soltanto ingannata, e l'arsura non tarda a ripresentarsi in una nuova individuazione. Ma se si beve dalla fonte di Mnemosine, come testimoniano queste laminette, la memoria fa recuperare la conoscenza del passato e dell'immutabile, l'uomo riconosce la sua origine divina e si identifica in Dioniso, e l'arsura non viene spenta, ma dissetata, da una gelida, divina, prorompente conoscenza.

when we consider DNA, the genotype is the DNA sequence that contains instructions for the living organism. The phenotype is the observable characteristics of an organism, such as its anatomy, biochemistry, physiology, and behavior. The genotype interacts with the environment to produce the phenotype. To put this in an everyday situation, consider the blueprint as a house’s genotype and the actual house its phenotype. The phenotypic construction process is the building of the house using the blueprint as information about what and how to do it. The phenotype is related to the genotype that describes it, but there is a world of physical difference between the genotype and the phenotype and even the phenotypic construction process. For one, the genotype is non-dynamic; it is a quiescent, one-dimensional sequence of symbols (DNA’s symbols are nucleotides) that has no energy or time constraints. Like a blueprint, it can sit around for years, as you have probably learned from watching CSI. The genotype dictates what should be constructed (perhaps a really cute dog), but the DNA itself does not look or act anything like a cute dog. On the other hand, the phenotype (the cute dog) is dynamic and uses energy, especially if it is a border collie.

Just when the first collie came to Sunnybank is not known. But Terhune wrote and told many times how he acquired his own first collie when he was thirteen. He had painfully amassed a savings of $9 and took it to the New York dog pound. There he bought a tricolored collie, which he named Argus. “I devoted all my out-of-school hours to Argus’s education,” he wrote later. “He learned with bewildering ease, but I learned ten times as much from him as he ever learned from me.” It was Argus who made Terhune into a collie man – a strange, deep-rooted aberration afflicting collie owners by the score and, eventually, Terhune readers by the thousands. Its major symptom is the passionate, wholly illogical belief that one breed of dog rises regally far above the rest of the barking pack – and that the old Scottish sheep-herding breed whose very name, like its origins, is shrouded in mystery. Though every breed has its equally impassioned adherents, collie people had the clear advantage, in Terhune, of a trumplet-like spokesman. He was wont to write things like: “A dog is a dog, but a collie is – a collie. “Or: “…the Sunnybank collies aren’t merely dogs. There a super dogs!” But much more than such extravagant claims about collies, it was the attributes given to the collies in his stories that had such a powerful effect on his readers. They were wise beyond belief, everlastingly gentle with those where merited such treatment (and the collies always knew), terrifyingly vengeful with those who didn’t. And they were eternally loyal – so loyal that the word itself seems inadequate to describe their fealty.

By human standards, I know far more than the dogs do. But Luke and June can do what I cannot. In a millisecond, forty feet from just encountered range Rambouillets the dogs see, big as a Wall Drug bill board, which sheep is the leader. They immediately understand the complex social order in this particular miniflock. they know whether the sheep are ready to fight, split up, or break for the tall timber, because the sheep tell them what they mean to do. For the sake of that instant, for that millisecond, that's why the Mister and Missus have put so many miles beneath their paws. Luke and June have developed an all-sheep, all-breed, all-terrain method that doesn't give them an edge over dogs who've been working these sheep on this terrain all their lives, but does help them transmute the novel into the manageable

En händelse utmärker sig. En gång när vi var ute tillsammans hade Marit på sig en ullig rosa tröja som fällde som en collie om våren. Jag måste ha hållit henne tätt intill mig när vi sa godnatt, för nästa morgon upptäckte jag att tröjan hade luddat av sig på min jacka som nästan var alldeles skär. Under den halvtimme som det tog mig att få bort luddet vällde det upp en överväldigande känsla av ömhet inom mig, den sortens ömhet som uppslukar en helt och hållet och gör kroppen svag. Om jag fick veta att jag bara kunde spara en enda minnesbild ur livet och att alla de andra måste försvinna, skulle jag välja denna, inte så mycket av romantiskt nostalgiska skäl utan för att händelsen markerade ett betydelsefullt ögonblick i livet. Den pekade framåt mot vårt giftermål, mot de två barn vi skulle få tillsammans, det hem vi skapade och den glädje och sorg vi skulle dela. Jag tänker mig far sitta på sängkanten eller på en stol i ett litet rum med jackan i knäet. När han tar de som troligen var angoraludd mellan tummen och pekfingret och kastar det i en papperskorg eller samlar ihop det till en boll att slänga senare, förstår han att han är förälskad. Det händer inte medan han tittar på den unga kvinnan eller kysser henne, inte ens när han senare den kvällen ligger i sängen och tänker på henne. Det händer följande morgon, när han upptäcker att hennes tröja har blandat sig med hans jacka. Tillsammans blir plaggen drivkraften i en metafor som jag anar att far bara upplevde subliminalt. Dolt bakom den "nästan skära" jackan finns löftet om två passionerade kroppar, den ena inuti den andra. Som gammal minns han intensiteten i sina känslor och förstår att saker och ting tog en ny vändning i det ögonblicket. Jag tror att det fanns mycket som far ångrade, mer eller mindre med rätta, men inte den halvtimme som han tillbringade med en luddig jacka ensam i sitt rum i Oslo. (180-181)

SEA” Sounds of the Pacific Ocean at Big Sur “SEA” Cherson! Cherson! You aint just whistlin Dixie, Sea— Cherson! Cherson! We calcimine fathers here below! Kitchen lights on— Sea Engines from Russia seabirding here below— When rocks outsea froth I’ll know Hawaii cracked up & scramble up my doublelegged cliff to the silt of a million years— Shoo—Shaw—Shirsh— Go on die salt light You billion yeared rock knocker Gavroom Seabird Gabroobird Sad as wife & hill Loved as mother & fog Oh! Oh! Oh! Sea! Osh! Where’s yr little Neppytune tonight? These gentle tree pulp pages which’ve nothing to do with yr crash roar, liar sea, ah, were made for rock tumble seabird digdown footstep hollow weed move bedarvaling crash? Ah again? Wine is salt here? Tidal wave kitchen? Engines of Russia in yr soft talk— Les poissons de la mer parle Breton— Mon nom es Lebris de Keroack— Parle, Poissons, Loti, parle— Parlning Ocean sanding crash the billion rocks— Ker plotsch— Shore—shoe— god—brash— The headland looks like a longnosed Collie sleeping with his light on his nose, as the ocean, obeying its accomodations of mind, crashes in rhythm which could & will intrude, in thy rhythm of sand thought— —Big frigging shoulders on that sonofabitch Parle, O, parle, mer, parle, Sea speak to me, speak to me, your silver you light Where hole opened up in Alaska Gray—shh—wind in The canyon wind in the rain Wind in the rolling rash Moving and t wedel Sea sea Diving sea O bird—la vengeance De la roche Cossez Ah Rare, he rammed the gate rare over by Cherson, Cherson, we calcify fathers here below —a watery cross, with weeds entwined—This grins restoredly, low sleep—Wave—Oh, no, shush—Shirk—Boom plop Neptune now his arms extends while one millions of souls sit lit in caves of darkness —What old bark? The dog mountain? Down by the Sea Engines? God rush—Shore— Shaw—Shoo—Oh soft sigh we wait hair twined like larks—Pissit—Rest not —Plottit, bisp tesh, cashes, re tav, plo, aravow, shirsh,—Who’s whispering over there—the silly earthen creek! The fog thunders—We put silver light on face—We took the heroes in—A billion years aint nothing— O the cities here below! The men with a thousand arms! the stanchions of their upward gaze! the coral of their poetry! the sea dragons tenderized, meat for fleshy fish— Navark, navark, the fishes of the Sea speak Breton— wash as soft as people’s dreams—We got peoples in & out the shore, they call it shore, sea call it pish rip plosh—The 5 billion years since earth we saw substantial chan—Chinese are the waves—the woods are dreaming

Girls always think, "I'm going to be the exception," Caroline thought; it's a weakness of the species, like a collie's tiny brain.

Buster finished off his soup as he watched the other people pass by the window: a woman walking a collie puppy on a frayed leash, people in dress coats hurrying through the wind and shouting into their cell phones, a parade of young women picking their way through the slush in high heels. He was beginning to think that, at last, he had deciphered the reason women wore high-heeled shoes: to keep from tripping on their pant legs. Though, of course, that raised the question of why they felt they needed such long pants, in the first place. It was a never-ending battle, understanding women – and other people, in general.

I wish to resist the temptation to kiss... By super magic animals (Song: The Temptation) A visual poem about unfulfilled love...

Kevin's mother opted to call the old man at the dog pound as her curiosity was overwhelmingly piqued. “Hello,” the old man responded on the other end of the phone, “Corbin County dog pound. My name is Joe and how can we help you today?”   “Hi Joe, I came in a month or so ago with my son and we got the dog you named 'Fire'.   “Yes ma'am”, he replied happily, “I'm glad you called...been wondering how old 'Fire' has been doing. How can I help you?”  She took a deep breath and asked, “Well Joe, I'm curious about just one  thing and thought you might know the answer. What kind of mutt is 'Fire'?” The old man softly chuckled before replying. “Ma'am, 'Fire' isn't a mutt.” Confused she continued, “If she's not a mutt, what kind of dog is she?” He chuckled again and replied, “Fire's momma' and daddy are both show dogs.  Fire is a full-bred Collie.

If Glenn related to anything outside of music, it was animals. When he bicycled through the countryside near his parents’ lakeside vacation cottage outside of Toronto, he sang to the cows. His pets included rabbits, turtles, a fully functioning skunk, goldfish named Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, and Haydn, and a parakeet named Mozart. There was also a series of beloved dogs: a big Newfoundland named Buddy, an English setter named Sir Nickolson of Garelocheed—or Nick for short—and, later, Banquo, a collie. One of Glenn’s childhood dreams was to someday create a preserve for old, injured, and stray animals on Manitoulin Island, north of Toronto, where he wanted to live out his old age by himself, surrounded by animals.

words are a border collie’s worst nightmare.

Sir, I was just thinking, there isn’t much eating on a hamster, to begin with? I mean, they’re kind of small?” Suppressed laughter rocked the room. Shyaka waited it out. He pointed at the picture of a hamster on the screen behind him. It was blown up to the size of a collie. “This picture is life-sized.

If there’s one thing we dogs know, it’s always trust your gut. Always. Objective analysis is highly overrated. Reasoning is better left to lawyers and scientists. And sometimes Border Collies, but don’t get me started on that.

Never take hold of a dog’s collar and pull him to where you want him to be, as this is a direct confrontation to a dog and can make a strong-minded dog want to be dominant and a gentle or sensitive dog may be made to feel submissive, neither of which you want in your dog. There

Possessing a creative mind, after all, is something like having a border collie for a pet: It needs to work, or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble. Give your mind a job to do, or else it will find a job to do, and you might not like the job it invents (eating the couch, digging a hole through the living room floor, biting the mailman, etc.). It has taken me years to learn this, but it does seem to be the case that if I am not actively creating something, then I am probably actively destroying something (myself, a relationship, or my own peace of mind). I

If you abuse a collie when it is a puppy, she may shy away from people when she grows up. If you abuse a German shepherd, she may bite people when she is an adult. A pit bull may kill people when she grows up. A shih tzu will probably still love people when she grows up (and maybe become a therapist).

A SIMPLE BEAUTY The Border Collie is the epitome of all we may ever desire in a dog, a friend and a partner. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are second nature to a collie and they will work until they can go no further. Yet for all their willingness to give they are not submissive, they are proud of their heritage and they do not suffer fools gladly. Look beyond the colour of the coat and the cloak they wear labelled ‘dog’, search inside and reach its soul, for once there you will be trapped in a world of unbelievable love and honesty. You will have found true beauty, for the wonderful qualities within this breed are always there waiting to be unlocked and are what make it truly beautiful. Drink in its grace, speed and stamina, for rarely has so much come together so perfectly in so small a package.