Dec Quotes

I don't profess any religion; I don't think it’s possible that there is a God; I have the greatest difficulty in understanding what is meant by the words ‘spiritual’ or ‘spirituality.' [Interview, The New Yorker, Dec. 26, 2005]

Dec 8, 2019, 8: 53 PM yo there’s a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe HRH Prince Dickhead  I BEG YOU TO NOT

POINT ZÉRO DEC ROUTES DE FRANCE “Mademoiselle Oliphant. It translates to ‘Point zero of the roads of France.’ In other words, it’s the point from which all other distances in France are measured. It’s the beginning of everything. Welcome to Paris, Anna. I’m glad you’ve come.

Have you wondered what our babies would have looked like?" Jen asked absently as she frowned inwardly trying to picture the future she might have had with her wolf. "Baby this isn't really the time to discuss our babies. Let's focus on who is carrying you so that I can get you back so that we can make babies." Jen groaned and felt the arms around her tighten which brought a gasp from her. Decebel must have sensed her pain as she felt his worry. "I'm okay, just hurts." Jen actually felt a smile spread across her face, "So you want to make babies with me?" This time when Decebel laughed she swore she could feel his hands run down her sides to her waist. "Only you would want to discuss making babies at a time like this." "Well you have to admit that it's a better topic than my nearly being killed and now being kidnapped. Seriously Dec, I'd much rather think about us making babies.

We travel because we know we will come home and when we do, home is the same but we are changed and that changes everything.

Abajo y a la Izquierda está el Corazón!

Jen snorted a laugh as she spoke out loud. "Gee thanks, so kind of you to chalk it up to me just being a dumb ass." Decebel chuckled and his eyes had begun to get lighter. "You will stop undressing in front of other people." Jen put a hand on her hip as she tipped her head to the side. She narrowed her eyes at her mate and tapped her lip with a finger. "Now, I'm going to need you clarify that." When Decebel didn't respond, but continued to stare at her, Jen rolled her eyes. "Clarify, elucidate, enlighten. Do. You. Understand. The. Words. That. Are…," Jen emphasized each word. "Jennifer," Decebel growled. "Comingoutofmymouth," Jen finished quickly making Sally giggle. "Only undress in our bedroom." "Nope, na-ah. There's waaaay too many loop holes in that little decree. Seriously Dec, you can do better than that," Jen told him with a single eyebrow raised. Decebel growled at the challenge in her words and the tone of her voice. Damn, when am I going to learn not to poke the angry wolf. The thought ran through her mind before she could censor it from a now wickedly smiling Alpha.

Those things which we call extraordinary,remarkable, or unusual may make history, but they do not make real life. After all, to do well those things which God ordained to be the common lot of all mankind, is the truest greatness. To be a successful father or a successful mother is greater than to be a successful general or a successful statesman.’ (Juvenile Instructor, 15 Dec. 1905, p. 752.) . . . True greatness is never a result of a chance occurrence or a one-time effort or achievement. It requires the development of character. It requires a multitude of correct decisions for the everyday choices between good and evil.

This is for those times when I want to take his hand, or he wants to take mine, but we don’t feel safe enough. This is for those times other couples get to take for granted, but we have to snatch in limited amounts when they become available to us. This is for those times when I can’t do such a simple thing as hold the hand of Dec as the tiniest gesture of affection and to show him how much I love him.

hey its Uberunicorn here, im uploading my accountant for the first time! :D yay! im only uploading the books ive read in a short time: jan-dec, so i might not have so many books online j8st yet... - Uberunicorn, this one called cherub the recruit! Y X 3!!!

Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of Action; and bidding an Affectionate farewell to this August body under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my Commission, and take my leave of all the employments of public life. (Address to Congress on Resigning Commission Dec 23, 1783)

You could learn a thing or two from your sister.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ruhn demanded. Flynn and Dec pretended to be busy looking into a closed butcher shop as they passed by. “You’re a prince,” Lidia said coolly. “Start acting like one.

December 21, 2012 represents a unique opportunity for renaissance, renewal and reinvention that people have waited for for centuries.

I expect to think that I would rather be author of your book [The Origin of Species] than of any other on Nat. Hist. Science. [Letter to Charles Darwin 12 Dec 1859]

Jen, get a clue and read Wadim's shirt." Jacque told her dryly. Jen looked over at Wadim who, oh so helpfully, pulled his shirt out so that she could read it. In black bold letters it said, "No really, I'm a werewolf and you're a human, which essentially translates into a steak with legs." "Are you implying that Wadmin's going to eat me, cause I don't know how Dec would feel about that.

You could, uh, talk to her,” Flynn said from beside Ruhn, shutting yet another useless drawer full of catalog cards. “I can literally feel you brooding.” “I’m not brooding.” “You’re brooding,” Declan said from Ruhn’s other side. “You’re brooding,” Ruhn said, nodding to Dec’s taut face.

Another tidbit you might be interested in is when it comes to chicks and open mouths, guys -" Decebel leaned over and covered Jen's mouth with his hand and warned her with a glare to swallow her words. "Thanks, Dec. That's usually my job," Sally told him. "But I was in such shock that I couldn't get my limbs to move." Decebel inclined his head. "Is that why you always seem to stand so close to her?" "It's of utmost importance that whoever is within her reach be ready at any and all moments to intercept what might come from that wicked tongue." en was frantically trying to talk around Decebel's hand at Sally's comment. Decebel was quickly learning how Jennifer's brain worked, and could only imagine what she wanted to voice in regards to Sally's wicked tongue comment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to uncover your mouth. It would be wise of you to just let the wicked tongue comment slide." Jen glared at him from the corner of her eye, and after a tense moment finally nodded once in submission. Decebel slowly uncovered her mouth, ready if need be to slap it right back over her lips. The room began to get quiet and they all directed their attention to the front of the room. As Vasile welcomed everyone for coming and began to explain about the meeting he had with the other Alphas, Jen leaned over to Decebel. "You owe me. Sally walked right into it with that whole wicked tongue thing." Decebel chuckled and whispered back, "For some reason, ţinere de meu inimă (one who holds my heart), I have a feeling there will be plenty of opportunities for you to embarrass your friends for questionable comments they innocently walk into." Jen shrugged. "True enough, but you still owe me. And what are you calling me when you speak Romanian? You've said the same phrase to me twice now." Decebel patted her leg, causing all sorts of tingling sensations. "Dar tu romaneste, Micul meu lup. (but you speak Romanian, my little wolf)" "I know what lup is and I am not a wolf. Whatever else you said I'm sure is a load of crap as well.

Winter arrived with December, and the world continued to suffer the loss of the Internet and most forms of communication. Supply chains were disrupted. The only mass form of personal communication was the letter, and postal workers were having their worst year ever, as they were actually meeded. Food was becoming scarcer and more expensive, as was fuel for vehicles and heating. Major cities experienced riots on a regular basis, spurred on by religious fervor and want. Civilization was on the brink of collapse.

The three wolves looked tentatively at Decebel. "Oh, for crying out loud, Dec. Tell them you won't beat them if they play cards with the two humans." Jen glared at him. Decebel had not taken his eyes off of Jen since she had declared she wanted to get her game on. Finally he relented and turned to his pack mates, who all cringed under his scrutiny. "No touching," he said, as he sat back rigidly, angled so he could watch every move of the game.

So long as I am acting from duty and conviction, I am indifferent to taunts and jeers. I think they will probably do me more good than harm.

It has today occurred to me that an amplifier using semiconductors rather than vacuum is in principle possible. [Laboratory notebook, 29 Dec 1939.]

From my friend, Brig. General Ezell Ware, Jr., CA Nat'l Guard, Dec. Keep on going till you get there, then keep going.

PHIL HARRIS, a light novelty band of the early 1930s, featuring vocalist Leah Ray in bouncy duets with Harris. June 23, 1933–Dec. 14, 1934, Blue Network. 30m, Fridays at 9. Cutex. RALPH

Decebel pulled Jen close in a show of gentleness that she was beginning to notice he only displayed to her. “You don’t always have to be the strong one.” “That’s where you’re wrong, Dec. I do, for them. Sally, Lilly, and at times even Fane. I have to be the one who believes so strongly that we will get her back that I can be sarcastic. That I have the luxury of bringing humor be it light or dark into this majorly messed up situation. And not that we will just get her back, but that we will get her back whole. There are worse things than death to a woman, Decebel.

Guru is not the goal. Anyone who establishes himself as a guru to be worshipped is not a guru. Guru is like a boat for crossing the river. It is important to have a good boat and it is very dangerous to have a boat that is leaking. The boat brings you across the river. When the river is crossed the boat is no longer necessary. You don't hang onto the boat after completing the journey, and you certainly don't worship the boat.

قال : لماذا هل وقع مني خطأ ، هل أسأتُ التصرف ، هل جاوزت حدي قالت : ما الحد يا محمد ، هل تعرفه ؟ قال : الحد ، حد الجوارح وما نملك أم حد الروح والقلب والخيال ، أما عمل الجوارح فحده الخيانة والحرام ولا انا بالذي يتعداه ولا أنت ، أما حد القلب والروح فحيث يهيمان الى حيث تقدر الاعمار والاقدار والامصار حيث لا مكان ولا تواريخ ولا ليل ولا نهار وهبي أني خرجت من هذا المكان ثم لم أعد اليه هل تفارقه روحي أو يفارقه قلبي ؟؟؟؟ وهل لي عليها سلطان ؟؟؟؟ ليته كان فأُريح وأستريح فإن كانا باقيين هنا حضرت أم غبت ،شئت أم ابيت . فما الذي نصيبه بالبعد غير خيانة القلب والروح ، وهل يكون الشئ معدوماً طالما بقي سراً في القلب حتى اذا افصح عنه وُجِد ، اذا افصح عنه ولا أبالي فهو موجود موجود لا أقمعه فكأني انكر نفسي ولكن أصونه بالعفاف أصونه بالعفاف وأحفظه بالتذمم وإكرمه بالوفاء ولقد وجدتني أفكر بك ثم أستذكر السدود الحدود والقيود فأفرغ منها الى الخيال والوهم ، خيال الصبي أول بلوغه الحلم يصنع الدنيا على مثال أحلامه هنا ، حين يرقد لنومه فيزوره طيف المرأة الناضجة الشابة التي دونه ودونها كل الأسباب ، فإذا رقد زاره الطيف قبيل نومه فزع الى أوهامه وخيالاته يخترع أزمنة غير هذه الازمنة ، أمكنةً غير هذه الامكنة بشراً غير هؤلاء البشر وقواعد غير اتي نحيى بها وقد يصور نفسه واياها قد اجتمعا على غير ميعادٍ في مركبٍ يحطمه الموج ليجد نفسه واياها وحيدين في جزيرة منقطعةٍ لا حياة فيها ولا سبيل للخروج منها أبد العمر، فإن كان هذا الصبي آثماً فليس الا على هذه البسيطة آثم، ذلك هو فضاء القلب والروح فكيف ننكره على أنفسنا فننكره على الجملة ... 04- Dec-2015 11:38Pm 04-Jan-2016

Trapped inside a metaphor, I've often felt the need to re-describe it, to change the terms. This isn't so much a balloon, I've wanted to say, as a bubble within which I'm simultaneously exposed and sealed off.... depriving me of reality, reducing me to an abstraction.... [NY, Dec. 1991; Columbia Graduate School Of Journalism Speech]

Dissociation is the ultimate form of human response to chronic developmental stress, because patients with dissociative disorders report the highest frequency of childhood abuse and/or neglect among all psychiatric disorders. The cardinal feature of dissociation is a disruption in one or more mental functions. Dissociative amnesia, depersonalization, derealization, identity confusion, and identity alterations are core phenomena of dissociative psychopathology which constitute a single dimension characterized by a spectrum of severity. Clinical Psychopharmacology and Neuroscience 2014 Dec; 12(3): 171-179 The Many Faces of Dissociation: Opportunities for Innovative Research in Psychiatry

Fantasy is unconstrained by truth.

You would have,” I say, with a bit of surprise, although it shouldn’t surprise me. Ben has been in love with Savannah since puberty. “Without hesitation,” he replies coldly, and takes another sip of brandy. When his glass is drained, he slaps it on the desk and walks toward my door. “Ben,” Declan says, stopping our friend when he grips the doorknob. “What exactly is Savannah to you?” Ben glances over his shoulder at Dec, shakes his head, his eyes suddenly sad, and leaves without a word.

J'éprouve un déchirement qui s'aggrave sans cesse, à la fois dan l'intelligence et au centre du coeur, par l'incapacité où je suis de penser ensemble dans la vérité le malheur des hommes, la perfection de Dieu et le lien entre les deux. 'I feel ceaselessly and increasingly torn, both in my intelligence and in the depth of my heart, by my inability to conceive simultaneously and in truth of the affliction of humans, the perfection of God, and the relation between the two.' Simone Weil, Lettre à Maurice Schumann, n.d. (prb Dec. 1942)

In 1951 Dec 20th, Nehru, while campaigning for the first democratic elections in India, took a short break to address a UNESCO symposium in Delhi. Although he believed democracy was the best form of governance, while speaking at the symposium he wondered loud... the quality of men who are selected by these modern democratic methods of adult franchise gradually deteriorates because of lack of thinking and the noise of propaganda....He[the voter] reacts to sound and to the din, he reacts to repetition and he produces either a dictator or a dumb politician who is insensitive. Such a politician can stand all the din in the world and still remain standing on his two feet and, therefore, he gets selected in the end because the others have collapsed because of the din. -Quoted from India After Gandhi, page 157.

Paris, 18 dec. 1957 Mamă dragă, Gîndurile mele merg spre voi toţi în momentul acesta de nesfîrşită durere. Aşa a voit soarta, ca să nu pot revedea pe tata şi să nu pot fi alături de voi în clipele marii despărţiri, întristarea mea ar fi insuportabilă dacă nu m-aş gîndi că pentru el e poate mai bine că a scăpat de amărăciunile vieţii, de umilinţe şi de boli, precum şi de toate suferinţele morale de care îmi vorbea în fiece scrisoare. Scrieţi-mi, pe dată ce veţi putea, cum s-a săvîrşit din viaţă şi dacă a trecut prin mari dureri fizice. De asemenea, unde a fost înmormîntat.

Are you okay?” he says. My breath shakes. “Do you know the story of the Prodigal Son?” “Oh my god. Rev—” “Do you?” He sighs. “I don’t remember the whole thing.” So I tell him the story. He listens. When I’m done, he says, “What does that have to do with anything?” “Which one am I?” I finally ask. “Rev—” “I didn’t stay with my father. So I’m obviously not the devoted son.” “Dude.” “But is that saying that if I went back to him, he’d welcome me with open arms? Am I supposed to be that son?” “Are you listening to yourself right now?” “No.” I study him. My voice is a breath away from breaking. “Help me, Dec. Which one am I?” His eyes are dark and serious. “Neither. Is that what you need me to say? You’re neither son. “But—” “You’re not selfish. You wouldn’t be the son who asks for his money and leaves. And you’re not spiteful. You don’t resent anyone, even the one person you should.” I flinch again. “Don’t you understand? I have to be one or the other.” “No, you don’t! You moron, there are three people in the story.” “What?” “You’re neither son, Rev. If you’re anyone, you’re the man who watched his kids act like total dicks, only to stand there with open arms and forgive them.” I’m speechless. I might be gaping at him. As many times as I’ve read that parable, I’ve never considered a third perspective. But of course it’s right there. It’s so clear. Declan pulls his pillow away from the wall, fluffs it up, and lies back down. He yawns. “Now. Tell me about the girl.

And suddenly I was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling, my face numb. At least, numb until the adrenaline vanished and pain flooded into every nerve of my skull. I blinked away stars and Tweety Birds, to see Dec and Abe standing above me and looking down, both of their faces frozen in different ways: DECLAN / ABE Worry / Worry Shock / Shock Anger / Mortification Rage / Guilt hating seeing loved one hurt / hating having hurt a friend about to go Hulk-like / wanting to run, but standing his ground

Dnt Think About Past , THat It Was Better Than Present , Always Think About Future, to Make It Better Than Past ....

He thinks of making his fortune. We all know that money sticks to yours hands. No, It passes through them, alas.

STOP APPLYING PATCHES. RECODE YOURSELF NOW. 24 Dec National Mathematics Day

I can’t see any reason that anyone would want a computer of his own,” DEC president Ken Olsen declared at a May 1974 meeting

Home is meant to be a place, but for me Dec was my home. He was where I felt secure and loved, and time did nothing to diminish that. No matter what.

It's pretty pathetic when you need to handcuff a woman to get her to stay near you," she said lamely. His eyes glinted suddenly. "Sometimes it's fun." Laila and Dec from Taken By A Navy SEAL

Pink Floyd in The 60s. Piper at The Gates of Dawn (1967) Singles and B-sides, outtakes A Saucerful of Secrets More Ummagumma Zabriskie Point (recorded Dec. 69) Pretty damned impressive!

Hey, Dec,” he groaned. Declan laughed thickly—like he might have been holding back tears. “It’s so fucking good to hear your voice.” Ruhn squeezed his eyes shut, throat working. “I love you. You know that?

Notwithstanding the security for future repose which the United States ought to find in their love of peace and their constant respect for the rights of other nations, the character of the times particularly inculcates the lesson that, whether to prevent or repel danger, we ought not to be unprepared for it. This consideration will sufficiently recommend to Congress a liberal provision for the immediate extension and gradual completion of the works of defense, both fixed and floating, on our maritime frontier, and an adequate provision for guarding our inland frontier against dangers to which certain portions of it may continue to be exposed. [7th Annual Message to Congress, Dec. 5, 1815]

I can’t see any reason that anyone would want a computer of his own,” DEC president Ken Olsen declared at a May 1974 meeting where his operations committee was debating whether to create a smaller version of its PDP-8 for personal consumers.

Writers, naturally, dream of becoming authors. Authors dream of writing a bestseller. Bestselling authors want to write more bestsellers. And everyone hopes for big prizes. Why? Because we believe in magic." Publisher's Weekly magazine, Dec. 12, 2011

Looking into the VAX, West had imagined he saw a diagram of DEC’s corporate organization. He felt that VAX was too complicated. He did not like, for instance, the system by which various parts of the machine communicated with each other; for his taste, there was too much protocol involved. He decided that VAX embodied flaws in DEC’s corporate organization. The machine expressed that phenomenally successful company’s cautious, bureaucratic style. Was this true? West said it didn’t matter, it was a useful theory.

मैं नहीं चाहता कि मेरा मन खंगाला जाए चाहे उसमें इस्तेमाल लायक कुछ भी न हो MAIN NAHIN CHAHTA KI MERA MANN KHANGALA JAYE CHAHE USMEIN ISTEMAL LAYAK KUCHH BHI NA HO I DON'T WANT THAT MY MIND BE SCRUTINIZED EVEN IF THERE WAS NO THING OF VALUE INSIDE 24 Dec National Mathematics Day

The paradox of education is precisely this—that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated. --“The Negro Child—His Self-Image,” in Saturday Review (New York, 21 Dec. 1963; repr. in The Price of the Ticket as “A Talk to Teachers,” 1985)     Europe

Some guns were fired to give notice that the departure of the balloon was near. ... Means were used, I am told, to prevent the great balloon's rising so high as might endanger its bursting. Several bags of sand were taken on board before the cord that held it down was cut, and the whole weight being then too much to be lifted, such a quantity was discharged as would permit its rising slowly. Thus it would sooner arrive at that region where it would be in equilibrio with the surrounding air, and by discharging more sand afterwards, it might go higher if desired. Between one and two o'clock, all eyes were gratified with seeing it rise majestically from above the trees, and ascend gradually above the buildings, a most beautiful spectacle. When it was about two hundred feet high, the brave adventurers held out and waved a little white pennant, on both sides of their car, to salute the spectators, who returned loud claps of applause. The wind was very little, so that the object though moving to the northward, continued long in view; and it was a great while before the admiring people began to disperse. The persons embarked were Mr. Charles, professor of experimental philosophy, and a zealous promoter of that science; and one of the Messrs Robert, the very ingenious constructors of the machine. {While U.S. ambassador to France, writing about witnessing, from his carriage outside the garden of Tuileries, Paris, the first manned balloon ascent using hydrogen gas by Jacques Charles on the afternoon of 1 Dec 1783. A few days earlier, he had watched the first manned ascent in Montgolfier's hot-air balloon, on 21 Nov 1783.}

On January 24th, Apple computers will introduce Macintosh. And you’ll see why 1984 won’t be like 1984.” – Old Hollywood film director Sir Ridley Scott’s classic “1984” Apple Macintosh commercial, first aired 15 Dec. 1983, Top Ten Commercials of All Time, 2050 edition “Well, it all did lead to 1984.” – Goli, the tek-lord, 2089

Looking into the VAX, West had imagined he saw a diagram of DEC’s corporate organization. He felt that VAX was too complicated. He did not like, for instance, the system by which various parts of the machine communicated with each other; for his taste, there was too much protocol involved. He decided that VAX embodied flaws in DEC’s corporate organization.

in art, we do not run to keep up with random moments, we select & create the moment occurring forever:

শিক্ষা ও শিক্ষক, দুটোই জাতির মেরুদন্ড।

The more skilled a nation is, the more developed it is

ODE TO STEPHEN DOWLING BOTS, DEC’D And did young Stephen sicken, And did young Stephen die? And did the sad hearts thicken, And did the mourners cry? No; such was not the fate of Young Stephen Dowling Bots; Though sad hearts round him thickened, ’Twas not from sickness’ shots. No whooping-cough did rack his frame, Nor measles drear with spots; Not these impaired the sacred name Of Stephen Dowling Bots. Despised love struck not with woe That head of curly knots, Nor stomach troubles laid him low, Young Stephen Dowling Bots. O no. Then list with tearful eye, Whilst I his fate do tell. His soul did from this cold world fly By falling down a well. They got him out and emptied him; Alas it was too late; His spirit was gone for to sport aloft In the realms of the good and great. If

Tharion was in no mood to joke, though. “Holstrom, I … Look, I said some shit earlier that I—” He shook his head. “If you can get me out of here, I’ll make it count. It means a lot that you’d even try. That you care.” “We’re a pack,” Ithan said to Tharion, Flynn, and Dec. “It’s what we do for each other.” None of them contradicted it. His heart strained. Tharion’s eyes glimmered with emotion. “Thanks.

whereas at that time they were increased as follows:— Dec. 20 to Dec. 27, St. Bride's 0 St. James's 8 Dec. 27 to Jan. 3, St. Bride's 6 St. James's 9 Jan. 3 to Jan. 10, St. Bride's 11 St. James's 7 Jan. 10 to Jan. 17, St. Bride's 12 St. James's 9 Jan. 17 to Jan. 24, St. Bride's 9 St. James's 15 Jan. 24 to Jan. 31, St. Bride's 8 St. James's 12 Jan. 31 to Feb. 7, St. Bride's 13 St. James's 5 Feb. 7 to Feb. 14, St. Bride's 12 St. James's 6

All the really great discoveries in theoretical physics—with a few exceptions that stand out because of their oddity—have been made by men under thirty.” Bernstein 1973, 89, emphasis in the original. Einstein finished his work on general relativity when he was 36, but his initial step, what he called his “happiest thought” about the equivalence of gravity and acceleration, came when he was 28. Max Planck was 42 when, in Dec. 1900, he gave his lecture on the quantum.

When President Roosevelt suggested to Archibald MacLeish that radio be prodded to help celebrate the 150th anniversary of the Bill of Rights, Corwin was given the job. It was an enormous undertaking, a 60-minute broadcast to air on the four national networks simultaneously. But We Hold These Truths was to have a special meaning, for the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor the week before, and the show arrived on an unprecedented wave of patriotism. It was estimated by Crossley, the national barometer of radio listenership, that 60 million people tuned in that night, Dec. 15, 1941. Corwin had arranged a stellar cast. James Stewart played the lead, “a citizen” who was the sounding board for the cascade of opinions, historical perspectives, and colloquialisms that flooded the hour. Also in the cast were Edward Arnold, Lionel Barrymore, Walter Brennan, Bob Burns, Walter Huston, Marjorie Main, Edward G. Robinson, Rudy Vallee, and Orson Welles. Bernard Herrmann conducted in Hollywood,

The mob took over South Street that warm Saturday night, the first of spring, as though popping up from nowhere, witnesses said. It seemed to be following the patterns of three similar mobs that had quickly assembled in Center City on March 3, Feb. 16, and Dec. 18. “They had smiles on their faces as they scared people at random,” Assistant District Attorney Angel Flores said in an interview with The Inquirer a week after the March 20 attacks. “They thought that assaulting others was a form of enjoyment.

told his students in “The World Since 1914” class that there was little point in discussing the Third World when they knew so little about how their own society works: “So I told them about the USA — really very hair-raising when it is all laid out in sequence: . . . . 1. cosmic hierarchy; 2. energy; 3. agriculture; 4. food; 5. health and medical services; 6. education; 7. income flows and the worship of GROWTH; 8. inflation. . . showing how we are violating every aspect of life by turning everything into a ripoff because we. . . have adopted the view that insatiable individualistic greed must run the world.” 7 He feared “that the students will come to feel that all is hopeless, so I must. . . show them how solutions can be found by holistic methods seeking diversity, de-centralization, communities. . .etc.” 8 Pleased with the class response, he later recalled: “The students were very excited and my last lecture in which I put the whole picture together was about the best lecture I ever gave. That was 10 Dec. [1975], my last full day of teaching after 41 years.

the way I could tell today that yesterday is dead is that the little gray bird that sat in the empty tree yesterday is gone: yesterday and bird are gone: I know there's no use to look for either of them, bird running from winter, yesterday running downstream to some ocean-pocket of rest whence it may sometime come again (changed), new as tomorrow: how like a gift the memory of bird and empty tree! how precious since we may not have that configuration again: today is full of things, so many, how can they be managed, received and loved in their passing?

I can’t marry you,” I finally said. He nodded slowly. “I figured that out.” His mouth opened, then shut quickly, and he went back to waiting. But I couldn’t figure out where to begin, because I couldn’t understand Declan. There was a sadness deep in his eyes, but he didn’t look as if I’d just rejected his proposal. He didn’t look like the girl he’d thought was his fiancée had just told him she couldn’t marry him. He looked as if he had been waiting for this conversation. “Why, Rorie?” he said pleadingly. “Why won’t you?” “I’m sorry, Dec. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I—” I sucked in a sharp breath, as if my body was rebelling against voicing the truth to him again, then forced out: “I fell in love with Jentry.” He winced in pain. “It was before I ever met you. I just didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know who he was to you, and didn’t think that I would see him again! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I couldn’t continue a relationship with you when my heart belonged to someone else. It wasn’t fair to you. You have to understand than I never wanted to hurt you; he never wanted to hurt you.” Declan’s lips formed a sad smile after a few moments. “God, that hurts just as much hearing it the second time.

From: James Grayson To: Luke Whitford Dec 12 I sucked him off again. From: Luke Whitford To: James Grayson Dec 12 What? Details, mate! Were you drunk again? From: James Grayson To: Luke Whitford Dec 12 We weren’t drunk. It was a normal evening. We were just hanging out, played some video games, had a pizza—you know, all the normal things. And then…then I was on my knees again. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened! He didn’t say a word. We looked at each other and I just dropped to my knees in front of him. And he let me. He let me, Luke! I know we should have talked first, should have said something, but I couldn’t. I was scared to freak him out. I could feel how tense he was. He just stared at me hard, his face totally impossible to read. So I went for it. Fuck, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. Now I understand why people say that sex is better with someone you love. I’d never understood those people who raved about sucking dick, but Jesus, I could spend days sucking Ryan’s. And he got really rough, you know. Like, he fucked my mouth, not just passively allowed me to blow him. From: Luke Whitford To: James Grayson Dec 12 Okaaay. Let’s pretend this isn’t awkward at all and I’m not turned on. What happened after that? You couldn’t have passed out again. You weren’t drunk this time.

Are we friends?” “Of course,” I say carefully. “Do you want to suddenly marry me and become a family?” My chest tightens, and my throat goes dry. “Syd …” “Answer me, Dec.” “No, I don’t …” She raises her hand. “Then there’s nothing to say. We were friends who shared a passionate kiss. We can blame it on a full moon or whatever you want. However, if you want to be friends, that has to be the last time. I can’t keep doing this. My feelings for you have always been what they are. I love you, want a life with you, but I can’t let myself hope when you’re clear there is none. So, I beg you. Love me or let me go because my heart can’t take anymore.” And with that, she walks out, leaving me feeling like a complete asshole.

Can’t we find some way out of this, Mr. Fancy Prince?” “Marc’s on it,” Dec said, holding up his phone. “He thinks you two might be able to use your royal sway to either commandeer them on behalf of the royal household or get the Astronomer to accept payment for them rather than press charges.” “Payment?” Bryce blurted. “Relax,” Flynn said, smirking. “We got the money, Princess.” “Yeah, I’ve seen your daddy’s fancy house,” Bryce quipped, earning a scowl from Flynn and an ooooooh from the sprites. Bryce suppressed her smile and lifted a brow to Ruhn. She’d fucked up one friendship thanks to pulling princess rank, but this…For Lehabah she’d do it. “You in, Chosen One?” Ruhn’s mouth quirked to the side. “Hel yeah, Starborn.

went into the tank for my sister,” Sigrid rasped, agony and rage contorting her face. “To keep her fed. To keep her safe. And you killed her.” Her voice rose, full of command that had the wolf in him sitting up, readying to strike at her signal. “I’ll rip out your throat, you soulless thief. I’m going to piss on your rotting corpse—” Sabine leapt. Declan fired his gun at the same time Flynn unleashed a second, blasting shot. Sigrid dropped to her knees, claws scratching at her face as she shielded her ears against the noise. Flynn advanced, gun at the ready, firing again at the downed wolf leaking blood onto the grimy alley pavement. Dec’s shot had been for Sabine’s knee—to incapacitate her. But Flynn had blasted Sabine’s face clean off.

The show is said to have originated on WCAU, Philadelphia, the sponsor’s home city, in 1927. Its arrival in New York in 1931 kicked off an unusual commercial identity—a children’s song-dance-and-story hour sponsored by one of the strongest symbols of New York city life, the automat (where nickel coffee and a piece of pie was a Broadway tradition). With its first New York broadcast, Horn and Hardart admitted it had nothing to sell to kids but reasoned that a strong appeal to children would reach adults as well. A sample of its fare was the show of Dec. 7, 1941, a few hours before Pearl Harbor. The entire hour was a tribute to ailing George M. Cohan, with the kids singing such favorites as Give My Regards to Broadway, Yankee Doodle Dandy, and Harrigan.

intellections have a use, don't think they don't: if the vine couldn't find a natural tree, what would become of it? if structure without life is meaningless, so is life without structure: we're going to make a dense, tangled trellis so lovely & complicated that every kind of variety will find a place in it or on it: you just be surprised: & forgive us: who mean song direct & fierce:

Stanford commencement address; Andy Behrendt, “Apple Computer Mogul’s Roots Tied to Green Bay,” (Green Bay) Press Gazette, Dec. 4, 2005; Georgina Dickinson, “Dad Waits for Jobs to iPhone,” New York Post and The Sun (London), Aug. 27, 2011; Mohannad Al-Haj Ali, “Steve Jobs Has Roots in Syria,” Al Hayat, Jan. 16, 2011; Ulf Froitzheim, “Porträt Steve Jobs,” Unternehmen, Nov. 26, 2007. Silicon Valley: Interviews with Steve Jobs, Laurene Powell. Jobs, Smithsonian oral history; Moritz, 46; Berlin, 155–177; Malone, 21–22. School: Interview with Steve Jobs. Jobs, Smithsonian oral history; Sculley, 166; Malone, 11, 28, 72; Young, 25, 34–35; Young and Simon, 18; Moritz, 48, 73–74. Jobs’s address was originally 11161 Crist Drive, before the subdivision was incorporated into the town from the county.

Among the best shows were these, some of which have attained cult followings: The Most Dangerous Game (Oct. 1, 1947), a showcase for two actors, Paul Frees and Hans Conried, as hunted and hunter on a remote island; Evening Primrose (Nov. 5, 1947), John Collier’s too-chilling-to-be-humorous account of a misfit who finds sanctuary (and something else that he hadn’t counted on) when he decides to live in a giant department store after hours; Confession (Dec. 31, 1947), surely one of the greatest pure-radio items ever done in any theater—Algernon Blackwood’s creepy sleight-of-hand that keeps a listener guessing until the last line; Leiningen vs. the Ants (Jan. 17, 1948) and Three Skeleton Key (Nov. 15, 1949), interesting as much for technical achievement as for story or character development (soundmen Gould and Thorsness utilized ten turntables and various animal noises in their creation of Three Skeleton Key’s swarming pack of rats); Poison (July 28, 1950), a riveting commentary on intolerance wrapped in a tense struggle to save a man from the deadliest snake in the world—Jack Webb stars

But the portal was closing, getting smaller and smaller, and— A glowing, black figure filled it. Then another. Aidas and Apollion. Their power grabbed the edges of the portal and held it a little wider. Held it open a moment longer. And with what little strength he had left, Hunt threw a desperate, raging, blazing-hot rope of lightning toward Apollion. The only being on Midgard who could handle his power. Apollion caught it, in that humanoid form once more, and pulled. Aidas flared with black light, pushing back against the sealing portal, against Urd’s wishes. Hunt was close enough to see the princes’ strained faces, Apollion’s teeth flashing as he dragged Hunt by his lightning, inch by inch, closer and closer. Aidas was sweating, panting as he fought to keep the portal open— And then Ruhn was there. Starlight flaring. Pushing back against the impossible. Lidia was beside him, crackling with fire. Tharion. Holstrom. Flynn and Dec. A fire sprite, her small body bright with flame. Isaiah and Naomi. So many hands, so many powers, from almost every House. The friends they’d made were what mattered in the end. Not the enemies. Through love, all is possible. It was love that was holding the portal open.

Stay involved in democracy. Fight for democracy. It can be messy and frustrating, believe me, I know. I understand why many Americans are frustrated by government and feel like it doesn’t make a difference. It’s not perfect, and not supposed to be. It’s only as good as we are, as what we choose to care about, as the people we elect. We’re never going to get 100 percent of what we want right away. But what if we got some of it right away, and protected it, and kept moving forward until we got the rest? That’s what voting is about. It’s not about making things perfect; it’s about making things better. It’s about putting us on track so that a generation from now, we can look back and say, “things got better starting now.” Voting is about using the power we have and pooling it together to get a government that’s more concerned, more responsive, more focused on the things that matter. This precious system of self-government is how we’ve come this far. It’s worth our time and effort. It’s worth protecting. I was heartened to see voter turnout leap this year over where it usually is. That’s great. Now imagine if we did that every time? Imagine if sixty or seventy percent of us, or even more, voted every time. We’d have a government that looks more representative, that’s full of life experience that’s more representative, that understands what people are going through and how we can work together to make people’s lives better. We’d have a government full of people who could corral a pandemic, who believe in science and have a plan to protect this planet for our kids; who care about working Americans and have a plan to help folks start getting ahead; who believe in racial equality and are willing to do the work to bring us closer an America where no matter what we look like, where we come from, who we love, or how much money we’ve got, we can make it if we try. That’s not science fiction. It’s possible! We just have to keep at it. Dec. 2020

The collapse, for example, of IBM’s legendary 80-year-old hardware business in the 1990s sounds like a classic P-type story. New technology (personal computers) displaces old (mainframes) and wipes out incumbent (IBM). But it wasn’t. IBM, unlike all its mainframe competitors, mastered the new technology. Within three years of launching its first PC, in 1981, IBM achieved $5 billion in sales and the #1 position, with everyone else either far behind or out of the business entirely (Apple, Tandy, Commodore, DEC, Honeywell, Sperry, etc.). For decades, IBM dominated computers like Pan Am dominated international travel. Its $13 billion in sales in 1981 was more than its next seven competitors combined (the computer industry was referred to as “IBM and the Seven Dwarfs”). IBM jumped on the new PC like Trippe jumped on the new jet engines. IBM owned the computer world, so it outsourced two of the PC components, software and microprocessors, to two tiny companies: Microsoft and Intel. Microsoft had all of 32 employees. Intel desperately needed a cash infusion to survive. IBM soon discovered, however, that individual buyers care more about exchanging files with friends than the brand of their box. And to exchange files easily, what matters is the software and the microprocessor inside that box, not the logo of the company that assembled the box. IBM missed an S-type shift—a change in what customers care about. PC clones using Intel chips and Microsoft software drained IBM’s market share. In 1993, IBM lost $8.1 billion, its largest-ever loss. That year it let go over 100,000 employees, the largest layoff in corporate history. Ten years later, IBM sold what was left of its PC business to Lenovo. Today, the combined market value of Microsoft and Intel, the two tiny vendors IBM hired, is close to $1.5 trillion, more than ten times the value of IBM. IBM correctly anticipated a P-type loonshot and won the battle. But it missed a critical S-type loonshot, a software standard, and lost the war.

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Bear Market Begin Bear Market End Max DD Sept 1929 June 1932 -86.25 July 1933 March 1935 -33.9% March 1937 March 1938 -54.5% Nov 1938 April 1942 -45.8% May 1946 June 1949 -29.6% July 1957 Oct 1957 -20.6% Dec 1961 June 1962 -28% Feb 1966 Oct 1966 -22.2% Oct 1968 May 1970 -34% Jan 1973 Oct 1974 -48.2% Sept 1976 March 1978 -19.4% Nov 1980 Aug 1982 -27.1% Aug 1987 Dec 1987 -40.4% July 1990 Oct 1990 -21.2% Mar 2000 Oct 2002 -49.1% June 2008 Mar 2009 -54% Average Bear Market: -37.3% Buy and Hold since 1942 Compounded Annual Rate of Return: 8.03% Maximum Draw down: 54% Prior to this decade’s two severe bear markets, most investors believed that only that the stock market can go up.

Patient Zero in the Ebola outbreak, researchers suspect, was a 2-year-old boy who died on Dec. 6, just a few days after falling ill in a village in Guéckédou, in southeastern Guinea. Bordering Sierra Leone and Liberia, Guéckédou is at the intersection of three nations, where the disease found an easy entry point to the region. A week later, it killed the boy’s mother, then his 3-year-old sister, then his grandmother. All had fever, vomiting and diarrhea, but no one knew what had sickened them.

WHAT IS 'THE LAMB'? WHY IS 'THE TYGER' THEN?-WILLIAM ... 2 Dec 2013 ... Poetry By: Rituparna Ray Chaudhuri ... after year, lay down his engraver after it had earned him his daily wages, and retire from s the battle, .... Christ, like all other Gods, has a dual duty. ... The fire is a popular symbol of wrath.

There were 400 dead crows that had been sitting in DEC’s refrigerators in Albany since June,” she recalled with no small measure of outrage, still shaken more than a decade later by what she viewed as bureaucratic incompetence bordering on criminal negligence. “Birds, dogs, cats, and other animals are urban disease sentinels.

Whatever happens, I must be back in Somerset by Dec 1 when Mrs Shirley Williams comes to address a rally of the Social Democratic party in Bridgwater. Suitably enough, this hellish woman has chosen the local Comprehensive School as her venue. Rotten eggs and cowpats can probably be acquired locally, but stink bombs and more sophisticated devices should be brought with you. Hoax bomb calls and maniacal threatening letters should be addressed to Bridgwater Police Headquarters. Tea and biscuits will be served at halftime.

One hundred twenty-nine women with previously documented histories of sexual victimization in childhood were interviewed and asked detailed questions about their abuse histories to answer the question "Do people actually forget traumatic events such as child sexual abuse, and if so, how common is such forgetting?" A large proportion of the women (38%) did not recall the abuse that had been reported 17 years earlier. Women who were younger at the time of the abuse and those who were molested by someone they knew were more likely to have no recall of the abuse. The implications for research and practice are discussed. Long periods with no memory of abuse should not be regarded as evidence that the abuse did not occur. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, Vol 62(6), Dec 1994, 1167-1176

Transition' (Jun. 2009) and the associated implementation plan (Dec. 2009) were established, as well as the 'Implementation Plan

for the Pilot Project for the Acceleration of Digital Transition' (Dec. 2009) and the 'Plan for the Improvement of the Digital Broadcasting

Reception Environment (Dec. 2009).' The stepped-up information efforts on DTV transition raised substantially the level of pub

Benefits of Improv To the Editor: Re “Inmate Improv,” by Anna Clark (Op-Ed, Dec. 31): It was not surprising to me that an improvisational theater workshop would help a prison inmate adjust to life after his release. Pretend play has been shown to improve the executive-function skills in preschool and school-age children. These skills include the ability to control emotions and behavior, resist impulses, and exercise self-control and discipline. As poor executive-function skills are associated with high dropout rates, drug use and crime, it would behoove all adults involved in child-rearing to encourage role-playing or “improv.” STEVEN ROSENBERG Fairfield, Conn., Dec. 31, 2014 The writer is director of the Elementary Reading Program at the University of Bridgeport School of Education.

Before Gutenberg The Dec. 12 Book World review of the novel “Gutenberg’s Apprentice” [“Capturing a long-past transformative movement,” Style] said that Johannes Gutenberg “is often imagined as a lone Renaissance genius who singlehandedly invented the technology of movable type.” Indeed, that Eurocentric view ignores well-documented Asian history. Bi Sheng invented movable type (first wooden, then ceramic) about 1040 in China. Movable metal type was developed in Korea , where the oldest book printed with metal type was published in 1377. Gutenberg was the first person in Europe to use movable metal type in the 1450s. Daniel Dzurek, Washington

First, stop making formula films that people have already started rejecting. This year, several big budget films haven't been entertained by the audience.Still stars continue to dictate terms. The youth wants new good content. From htcafe Saturday,Dec.20,2014

Regulating robotic aircraft Free the drones Drones have immense commercial potential—so long as regulators don’t try to tether them to the ground Dec 6th 2014 | From the print edition ONE of this year’s top-selling Christmas presents is a drone. For $50 you can buy a tiny quadcopter with a video camera, perfect for

The transformation of cities A suburban world The emerging world is becoming suburban. Its leaders should welcome that, but avoid the West’s mistakes Dec 6th 2014 | From the print edition IN THE West, suburbs could hardly be less fashionable. Singers and film-makers lampoon them as the haunts of bored teenagers and

Larry Henley, the singer whose raucous falsetto on "Bread and Butter" gave the Newbeats their biggest pop hit in the 1960s and who later co-wrote "Wind Beneath My Wings," a ballad that has become all but inescapable at weddings, sports shows, piano bars and presidential galas, died Dec. 18 in Nashville. He was 77.

KATH: (Katherine) BRENT, daughter of Ed: Brent, dee'd., 300 acs. Northumberland Co., N.E. upon Quiough 421 Riv., S.E. upon land of Capt. Giles Brent. 9 Dec. 1662, p. 79, (554). (Capt. Gyles Brent, 4 May 1653, assigned to sd. Edm: Brent & by him given by will to sd. Kath.)

It wasn’t long before he was hardening again, and Holly touched her mouth to his salty skin,

When we feel in our heart: ‘I want to be good, to be better ... I feel sorry for what I’ve done ...’ This is Christ who is knocking.” — Pope Francis, during his Dec. 21 Angelus message.

Poly! To the Editor: Reviewing the Library of America edition of “The Days Trilogy,” by H. L. Mencken (Dec. 7), P. J. O’Rourke said that Mencken had only “a trade school education.” Mencken was educated at Baltimore Polytechnic, then and to this day considered one of the finest public high schools in the city. It was established to teach engineering, so describing it as a trade school is like calling M.I.T. one. STEVEN A. KING NEW YORK

you pushing this, Dec?” Cade scooted his chair back

The Canopy Walk controversy proved far more serious. On Dec. 19, 2008, a worker died and 18 others were injured during a collapse of scaffolding that was shoring up part of the walkway during construction.

Two shadowy figures had appeared in the distance. A young girl led a donkey by its halter, chattering to a child perched on its swaying back. What in God’s name were they doing out alone at night? They headed down the dirt road straight toward the house where Tehrazzi was apparently holed up. Every muscle in her body went rigid with denial. “Oh no…” Had Dec heard the kids? Did he know they were in danger? Could he alert the children before the air strike? Not if he hadn’t seen them. What should she do? She was too afraid to yell out in case someone started shooting, but no way could she sit back and let those children suffer. The breath shot in and out of her nose as she counted backward from ten, praying Dec would do something so she wouldn’t have to. Ten, nine, eight… The little boy laughed. Bryn squeezed her eyes

Bryn took off running. Her thigh muscles bunched as she scrambled down the rise, breath coming in jerky gasps. The ill-fitting helmet jiggled up and down, obscuring her vision, so she yanked at the chinstrap and shoved the thing off her head. And kept running. She had to get there before the air strike. Had to save the kids. “Bryn!” Ignoring Dec’s shout, she sprinted hard, fueled by adrenaline. Bouncing off rocks and boulders, she reached the road and scrambled to her feet, breath sawing in and out of her lungs in sobs. She could not let innocent children be caught up in this. “Bryn, no!” She ignored him. The children weren’t stopping. She opened her mouth and screamed the Arabic word for stop. It came out in a high-pitched wail, and both children jerked around to face her in fear. “Stop! Go back!” she yelled, waving her arms in a frantic effort to get them to move. “Run!