David Morris Quotes

Well,’ you may ask, ‘how may I know when I am in love?’ . . . George Q. Morris [who later became a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, gave this reply]: ‘My mother once said that if you meet a girl in whose presence you feel a desire to achieve, who inspires you to do your best, and to make the most of yourself, such a young woman is worthy of your love and is awakening love in your heart.

Trauma destroys the fabric of time. In normal time you move from one moment to the next, sunrise to sunset, birth to death. After trauma, you may move in circles, find yourself being sucked backwards into an eddy or bouncing like a rubber ball from now to then to back again. ... In the traumatic universe the basic laws of matter are suspended: ceiling fans can be helicopters, car exhaust can be mustard gas.

The lesson taught by the war was clear: to be human is to be small, powerless, and subject to the forces of randomness.

There comes a point in every man’s life when he sees that the magician’s hat is empty, that the government and the church are run by fools, and that virtue is far rarer than he’d been led to believe.

We are born in debt, owing the world a death. This is the shadow that darkens every cradle. Trauma is what happens when you catch a surprise glimpse of that darkness, the coming annihilation not only of the body and the mind but also, seemingly, of the world.

As is perhaps obvious, Morris Zapp had no great esteem for his fellow-labourers in the vineyards of literature. They seemed to him vague, fickle, irresponsible creatures, who wallowed in relativism like hippopotami in mud, with their nostrils barely protruding into the air of common-sense. They happily tolerated the existence of opinions contrary to their own — they even, for God’s sake, sometimes changed their minds. Their pathetic attempts at profundity were qualified out of existence and largely interrogative in mode. They liked to begin a paper with some formula like, ‘I want to raise some questions about so-and-so’, and seemed to think they had done their intellectual duty by merely raising them. This manoeuvre drove Morris Zapp insane. Any damn fool, he maintained, could think of questions; it was answers that separated the men from the boys.

Healing must always seek to give voice to suffering, and the greater the range of words and meanings we have at our disposal, the clearer the voice becomes. Iona Heath in BMJ 2000;320:125 ( 8 January) Review of the book Illness and Culture in the Postmodern Age by David Morris

Morris had been raised a Mennonite stoic in a tribe that wasn't a tribe at all, but more a failed cult whose main sources of entertainment were music, wordplay, and suffering.

It is important to remember that anytime you feel the need to begin a conversation with the words, "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but . . ." it's almost always a conversation that shouldn't happen at all. So, if you feel the need to say, "I probably shouldn't say this . . ." then DON'T! Just hush. That little nudge you are feeling is probably the Holy Spirit saying, "Don't go there. You're going to regret the words you're about to speak." Or as King David wrote, "Muzzle it!" I

Later, I interviewed a prominent psychoanalyst, who told me that trauma destroys the fabric of time. In normal time, you move from one moment to the next, sunrise to sunset, birth to death. After trauma, you may move in circles, find yourself being sucked backwards into an eddy, or bouncing about like a rubber ball from now to then and back again. August is June, June is December. What time is it? Guess again. In the traumatic universe, the basic laws of matter are suspended: ceiling fans can be helicopters, car exhaust can be mustard gas. Another odd feature of traumatic time is that it doesn’t just destroy the flow of the present into the future, it corrodes everything that came before, eating at moments and people from your previous life, until you can’t remember why any of them mattered. What I previously found inconceivable is now inescapable: I have been blown up so many times in my mind that it is impossible to imagine a version of myself that has not been blown up. The man on the other side of the soldier’s question is not me. In fact, he never existed. The war is gone now, but the event remains, the happening that nearly erased the life to come and thus erased the life that came before. The soldier’s question hangs in the air the way it always has. The way it always will.   Have you ever been blown up before, sir?

My own view of the relationship between drugs and PTSD is reminiscent of what Frank Sinatra said when a reporter asked him about his philosophy of life—“Basically, I’m for anything that gets you through the night—be it prayer, tranquilizers, or a bottle of Jack Daniel’s.

Coretta told Daddy King of Kennedy’s phone call as they prepared to see Morris Abram. King, Sr., was ecstatic, and said that this was enough to shift his traditionally Republican presidential preference and vote instead for Kennedy, the man who had called his daughter-in-law.

Oh, yes, you can sin with your tongue! David knew this and took special steps to keep himself from that kind of sin. He knew how serious God is about the damage and destruction the tongue can do. He obviously passed this knowledge along to his son, Solomon, because in Proverbs 6, Solomon wrote: These six

The problem, really, is that while humanity continues to experience huge leaps in technology, we experience no equivalent leaps in our ethical capacity. In the never-ending arms race between technology and ethics, technology always wins. Researchers who tally the results of this immortal race have a name for it: history.

Such was the mistrust of the official line, so heavy was the spin, that with any new piece of information you learned to do a kind of mental arithmetic whereby you divided the information given by the speaker’s rank, multiplied by his or her time in-country, and subtracted based on the number of miles the speaker was distant from the fighting. From The Big Suck: Notes from the Jarhead Underground

Maybe you’ve woken up in the middle of the night and needed to go to the bathroom or wanted to go to the kitchen, and then while you were walking across a dark room, you stubbed your toe. I know I’ve done this—and it hurts! I bet you’ve done this too. What will help in a situation like that? The answer is simple. Turn on a lamp. When we flip on a light switch, there is no argument between light and dark. When the light is on, the darkness is gone. There’s no fight. There’s no struggle. Similarly, if we feel confused about which direction to turn, then the first thing we ought to do is turn to God and read the Bible. Go to God through the pages of His Word. King David, in Psalm 119:105, states it plainly: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” Light dispels darkness. First John 1:5 declares this truth: “God is light and in Him is no darkness at all.

After Morris returned to England, he published a forty-eight-page narrative, adding to the ever-growing library of accounts about the Wager affair. The authors rarely depicted themselves or their companions as the agents of an imperialist system. They were consumed with their own daily struggles and ambitions—with working the ship, with gaining promotions and securing money for their families, and, ultimately, with survival. But it is precisely such unthinking complicity that allows empires to endure. Indeed, these imperial structures require it: thousands and thousands of ordinary people, innocent or not, serving—and even sacrificing themselves for—a system many of them rarely question.

<...> many national leaders including Washington, Franklin, Jefferson, Madison, Hamilton, John Adams, John Jay, Gouverneur Morris, and Rufus King saw American slavery as an immense problem, a curse, a blight, or a national disease. If the degree of their revulsion varied, they agreed that the nation would be much safer, purer, happier, and better off without the racial slavery that they had inherited from previous generations and, some of them would emphasize, from England. Most of them also believed that America would be an infinitely better and less complicated place without the African American population, which most white leaders associated with all the defects, mistakes, sins, shortcomings, and animality of an otherwise almost perfect nation.

BUYING OFF THE ENVIRONMENTALISTS Where are the environmentalists? For fifty years, they’ve been carrying on about overpopulation; promoting family planning, birth control, abortion; and saying old people have a “duty to die and get out of the way”—in Colorado’s Democratic Governor Richard Lamm’s words. In 1971, Oregon governor and environmentalist Tom McCall told a CBS interviewer, “Come visit us again. . . . But for heaven’s sake, don’t come here to live.” How about another 30 million people coming here to live? The Sierra Club began sounding the alarm over the country’s expanding population in 1965—the very year Teddy Kennedy’s immigration act passed65—and in 1978, adopted a resolution expressly asking Congress to “conduct a thorough examination of U.S. immigration laws.” For a while, the Club talked about almost nothing else. “It is obvious,” the Club said two years later, “that the numbers of immigrants the United States accepts affects our population size and growth rate,” even more than “the number of children per family.”66 Over the next three decades, America took in tens of millions of legal immigrants and illegal aliens alike. But, suddenly, about ten years ago, the Sierra Club realized to its embarrassment that importing multiple millions of polluting, fire-setting, littering immigrants is actually fantastic for the environment! The advantages of overpopulation dawned on the Sierra Club right after it received a $100 million donation from hedge fund billionaire David Gelbaum with the express stipulation that—as he told the Los Angeles Times—“if they ever came out anti-immigration, they would never get a dollar from me.”67 It would be as if someone offered the Catholic Church $100 million to be pro-abortion. But the Sierra Club said: Sure! Did you bring the check? Obviously, there’s no longer any reason to listen to them on anything. They want us to get all excited about some widening of a road that’s going to disturb a sandfly, but the Sierra Club is totally copasetic with our national parks being turned into garbage dumps. Not only did the Sierra Club never again say another word against immigration, but, in 2004, it went the extra mile, denouncing three actual environmentalists running for the Club’s board, by claiming they were racists who opposed mass immigration. The three “white supremacists” were Dick Lamm, the three-time Democratic governor of Colorado; Frank Morris, former head of the Black Congressional Caucus Foundation; and Cornell professor David Pimentel, who created the first ecology course at the university in 1957 and had no particular interest in immigration.68 But they couldn’t be bought off, so they were called racists.

Here,for the last time together,appeared a triumvirate of old men,relics of a golden age,who still towered like giants above creatures of a later time:Webster,the kind of senator that Richard Wagner might have created at the height of his powers;Calhoun,the most majestic champion of error since Milton's Satan in Paridise Lost;and Clay,the old Conciliator, who had already saved the union twice and now came out of retirement to save it with his silver voice and his master touch once again before he died.

was the only incoming they’d taken in days. How do you go about telling a guy who is alive only because he didn’t use the shitter at the wrong time that he ought to go back home, go to school, get married and mortgaged, have kids, and commit to the world when he knows for a fact that nothing in this world is real except chance?

The act of writing, especially of putting pen to paper, has always had a sacred quality. The process by which one creates a paragraph-of conceptualizing, framing, and sequencing a moment in time-is the same process that governs some of the most sophisticated psychotherapies.

Hermano, nadie muere en verdad. Lo digo en serio. Cuando quieres a alguien como yo te quiero a ti la muerte es una situación inconveniente y dolorosa, pero no es lo suficientemente fuerte como para romper el lazo que nos une.

La naturaleza era su compañera en el rastro, obrando milagros maravillosos que los que carecían de entusiasmo llamaban "crecimiento", un término que apenas alcanzaba a describir el misterio y la belleza de la vida revelándose.

No hay mucho tiempo entre el amanecer y el ocaso. Si no quieres que la noche te sorprenda, entonces debes dejar algún tiempo para todas las cosas importantes.

Tu hermano está atado al futuro. El destino se trepa de él como una enredadera, pero observa lo que pasa cuando la enredadera crece demasiado. Llegará a dominar tu vida, partiendo tu camino en muchas direcciones. Dejarás de ACTUAR y comenzarás a REACCIONAR. Serás como una roca que sólo puede permanecer en un lugar, quieta e indefensa, esperando a que el futuro la conduzca por su camino.

El amor era un tesoro poco común para Taka, y se lo imploraba a aquellos que estaban dispuestos a ofrecérselo. Taka era capaz de manifestar una gran ternura, a su manera, cuando le satisfacía el hacerlo. Esta protección alarmaba a las demás leonas, quienes sabían que la fuerza de su amor tan sólo se igualaba con la fuerza de su odio. Aquellos que traicionaran su amor muy probablemente morirían.

Rock has always been the Devil’s music…I believe rock and roll is dangerous…I feel we’re heralding something even darker than ourselves.” – David Bowie, Rolling Stone, February 12, 1976

In his interview with Errol Morris, the psychologist David Dunning argues that the path to self-insight leads through other people. “So it really depends on what sort of feedback you are getting. Is the world telling you good things? Is the world rewarding you in a way that you would expect a competent person to be rewarded? If you watch other people, you often find there are different ways to do things; there are better ways to do things. ‘I’m not as good as I thought I was, but I have something to work on.’ ” Think of the kids lining up to join the softball team—would you be picked?

We have a friend who used to commute by ferry between Staten Island and Manhattan, in New York City. The trip took nearly half an hour and could have been a frustration in a busy day. But this man, David Wilkerson, used the time on the boat for prayer in tongues. He would start off by thinking of all the things he had to be thankful for. In a reversal of Bob Morris's sequence, he would review them one by one in his mind, in English, praising God for each one. Bit by bit, inside him, he would feel a mounting sense of joy. He was conscious of being loved, being taken care of. He began to glimpse pattern and design in all that was happening to him. And suddenly, in trying to express his gratitude, he would reach a language barrier. English could no longer express what he felt. It was simply inadequate for the Being that he perceived. It was at this point that he would burst through into communication that was not limited by vocabulary. His spirit as well as his mind would start to praise God. Inevitably, by the time David reached the Manhattan pier, a transformation had taken place. He was built up in body and in spirit. He felt emboldened, ready to tackle impossible tasks, invigorated and refreshed, ready to meet whatever the day had to offer. And this was often important, for David Wilkerson is a youth worker among street gangs in the New York slums--a job that brings him into contact with teenage dope addicts, child prostitutes, young killers and some of the most discouraging and intractable problems in the world today.

David Morris, in The Evil Hours, his remarkable book on trauma, notes, “Part of trauma’s corrosive power lies in its ability to destroy narrative, and . . . stories, written and spoken, have tremendous healing power for both the teller and the listener.

fire resistance

Thank you to my Emory family, now dispersed throughout the country, especially Nadia Behizadeh, Saundra Deltac, Jillian Ford, Keisha Green, David Morris, Michelle Purdy, Laura Quaynor, Mari Ann Roberts, Ana Solano-Campos, and Vera Stenhouse. Erica Dotson, who has helped to fill the past 8 years with laughter and friendship, treated this project as if it was her own and I am eternally thankful.

To get the seeds you simply need to break long grass.

The first out of the gate was The Ethics of Sexual Acts by Kinsey’s friend, René Guyon, a closet French pedophile jurist. The second was American Sexual Behavior and the Kinsey Report, by author/historian David Loth and Kinsey’s lawyer, Morris Ernst, the ACLU attorney. The third book was Sex Habits of American Men, a collection of essays, edited by journalist Albert Deutsch and written by world famous and stunningly foolish academicians.

Le Ann looked at me again, and her tears immediately dried up. She said, “OK.” Now, she looked at me like I was her favorite piece of chicken. A frown turned into a wide smile. Her eyes began to sparkle. I was stuck. I could not back out at this point.

She kissed me back. I felt a quivering of her whole body. If I was not holding on to her, she would have collapsed on to the floor. She looked at me with her eyes smiling and emitted a gleam of pleasure. She admitted that this was the first time in years that she felt anyone loved and cared about her, except for her parents.

he was looking at Isla Fawcett, who was looking at her brother Morris, who had his eyes shut because he was asleep.

Another school which benefited from Dr. Rush’s influence was Franklin College (today called Franklin-Marshall College). The original founders of that college were a distinguished group, including not only Dr. Rush but also Thomas McKean (signer of the Declaration), Thomas Mifflin (signer of the Constitution), and George Clymer, Robert Morris, and Dr. Franklin (signers of both the Declaration and the Constitution). All of them believed that the inclusion of religious education was fundamental to a sound education.

The first single was tracked at Media Arts Studio in Hermosa Beach, south of L.A.; the label copy helpfully dates the session—October 9, 1980. The producer is identified as “Screwy Louie.” The A side is a cover of “Under the Boardwalk,” the Drifters’ 1964 R&B ballad. David Hidalgo takes the soaring lead (his first solo vocal on record), effortlessly duplicating the tug of Johnny Moore’s original performance. But the number receives a twist in the band’s hands: in place of the lush string instrumental break on the Bert Berns–produced original, one hears a Tex–Mex button accordion solo. The flip was a rendering of “Volver, Volver,” a bolero penned by Fernando Z. Maldonado that had been an enormous hit for the Mexican ranchera superstar Vicente Fernández in 1976. Returning to his original role as the group’s ballad specialist, Cesar Rosas takes the lead vocal. Here the band offers an old-school East Side spin on the swaying, lushly romantic number, bringing some unidentified friends into the studio to scream and howl in the background, in the manner of the “live” supporting casts on Cannibal and the Headhunters’ “Land of 1000 Dances” or the Premiers’ “Farmer John.

Burnett recalls that Warner Bros. vice president of A&R Steven Baker asked him to see one of the Lobos’ local shows, and he dropped by a date at the Cathay de Grande to check them out. “They were a groove,” Burnett says. “They were the killingest band in town at that point. They probably still are . . . With David Hidalgo, you knew immediately that this was one of the most amazing guitarists, musicians, ever. That was not hard to tell. Cesar was such a bad, bad man. The whole band was great. Louie’s a killer writer.

When I was a teenager I had posters of all of my favorite musicians up on my bedroom walls—David Bowie, Marc Bolan, Edgar Winter’s They Only Come Out at Night, and the first KISS album. My dad didn’t really know what to make of it. One time he came into my room while I was listening to music and looked at all the posters and said, “You’re a fag, aren’t you?” This was an actual one-sided conversation we had.

The former marine, David J Morris, author of a book on post traumatic stress disorder, notes that the disorder is far more common and far more rarely addressed among rape survivors than combat veterans.

convened) against domestic Violence. ARTICLE V The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose Amendments to this Constitution, or, on the Application of the Legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a Convention for proposing Amendments, which, in either Case, shall be valid to all Intents and Purposes, as Part of this Constitution, when ratified by the Legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by Conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other Mode of Ratification may be proposed by the Congress; Provided that no Amendment which may be made prior to the Year one thousand eight hundred and eight shall in any Manner affect the first and fourth Clauses in the ninth Section of the first Article; and that no State, without its Consent, shall be deprived of it's equal Suffrage in the Senate. ARTICLE VI All Debts contracted and Engagements entered into, before the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be as valid against the United States under this Constitution, as under the Confederation. This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding. The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States. ARTICLE VII The Ratification of the Conventions of nine States, shall be sufficient for the Establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the Same. Done in Convention by the Unanimous Consent of the States present the Seventeenth Day of September in the Year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty seven and of the Independence of the United States of America the Twelfth. In Witness whereof We have hereunto subscribed our Names, Go. WASHINGTON— Presid. and deputy from Virginia New Hampshire John Langdon Nicholas Gilman Massachusetts Nathaniel Gorham Rufus King Connecticut Wm. Saml. Johnson Roger Sherman New York Alexander Hamilton New Jersey Wil: Livingston David Brearley Wm. Paterson Jona: Dayton Pennsylvania B Franklin Thomas Mifflin Robt Morris Geo. Clymer Thos FitzSimons Jared Ingersoll James Wilson Gouv Morris Delaware Geo: Read Gunning Bedford jun John Dickinson Richard Bassett Jaco: Broom Maryland James Mchenry

He didn't consider himself prescient or anything; the skill was something he'd developed over time in the field, the ability to interpolate among thousands of seemingly arbitrary microevents and anticipate the narrative, to see the dance in the data. Scientists who study this sort of phenomenon refer to it as apophenia.

Oh, subjective obstinacy had advantages, Morris, when we were busy evolving into nature’s champion egotists. It led to human mastery over the planet … and several times to our species nearly wiping itself out.

Later, I interviewed a prominent psychoanalyst, who told me that trauma destroys the fabric of time. In normal time, you move from one moment to the next, sunrise to sunset, birth to death. After trauma, you may move in circles, find yourself being sucked backwards into an eddy, or bouncing about like a rubber ball from now to then and back again.

Nearly every Aretha gig that I booked,” said Dick Alen of the William Morris Agency, “required that of her total fee, she had to have twenty-five thousand in cash before she went onstage. That was the money she used to make her payroll. She deducted no taxes and made no records. I’d beg her to implement some system of documentation, but she refused. I knew that eventually there’d be hell to pay from the IRS.

the Man with the Muckrake, the man who could look no way but downward with muckrake in his hand; who was offered a celestial crown for his muckrake but who would neither look up nor regard the crown he was offered but continued to rake to himself the filth of the floor. Roosevelt’s subsequent remarks about “a certain magazine” that he had just read “with great indignation” could not be reported, due to the Gridiron’s tradition of confidentiality. He spoke for nearly three quarters of an hour over a white, twelve-foot model of the Capitol, glowing with internal lights. According to one member of the audience, he “sizzled” with moral disdain. Since his listeners represented all of official Washington, and since The Cosmopolitan had just published another installment of “The Treason of the Senate,” it was not long before the Man with the Muckrake was identified as David Graham Phillips. Nor was it long before the Man became plural—denoting all writers of Phillips’s type—and the noun a verb, as in muckrakers, muckraking, to muckrake. A new buzzword was born. Ray Stannard Baker reacted to it as if stung. Opprobrium cast on all investigative journalists, he wrote Roosevelt, might discourage the honest ones, leaving the field to “outright ranters and inciters.” Roosevelt’s reply indicated a determination to give the Gridiron speech again, in some more public forum. “People so persistently misunderstand what I said that I want to have it reported in full.