Du Pont Quotes

La loi, dans un grand souci d'égalité, interdit aux riches comme aux pauvres de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans les rues et de voler du pain.

As he passes Harper du Pont, he pulls something from his pocket, walks right up to her, and chops her ponytail off at the base.

I've never understood America,"said the king. "Neither do we, sir. You might say we have two governments, kind of overlapping. First we have the elected government. It's Democratic or Republican, doesn't make much difference, and then there's corporation government." "They get along together, these governments?" "Sometimes," said Tod. "I don't understand it myself. You see, the elected government pretends to be democratic, and actually it is autocratic. The corporation governments pretend to be autocratic and they're all the time accusing the others of socialism. They hate socialism." "So I have heard," said Pippin. "Well, here's the funny thing, sir. You take a big corporation in America, say like General Motors or Du Pont or U.S. Steel. The thing they're most afraid of is socialism, and at the same time they themselves are socialist states." The king sat bolt upright. "Please?" he said. "Well, just look at it, sir. They've got medical care for employees and their families and accident insurance and retirement pensions, paid vacations -- even vacation places -- and they're beginning to get guaranteed pay over the year. The employees have representation in pretty nearly everything, even the color they paint the factories. As a matter of fact, they've got socialism that makes the USSR look silly. Our corporations make the U.S. Government seem like an absolute monarchy. Why, if the U.S. government tried to do one-tenth of what General Motors does, General Motors would go into armed revolt. It's what you might call a paradox sir.

To be successful in an area, you have to respect the people who are successful in that area, or you are disrespecting the very thing that you want to become.

Ils y doivent travailler devant la majestueuse égalité des lois, qui interdit au riche comme au pauvre de coucher sous les ponts, de mendier dans les rues, et de voler du pain.

America's industrial success produced a roll call of financial magnificence: Rockefellers, Morgans, Astors, Mellons, Fricks, Carnegies, Goulds, du Ponts, Belmonts, Harrimans, Huntingtons, Vanderbilts, and many more based in dynastic wealth of essentially inexhaustible proportions. John D. Rockefeller made $1 billion a year, measured in today's money, and paid no income tax. No one did, for income tax did not yet exist in America. Congress tried to introduce an income tax of 2 percent on earnings of $4,000 in 1894, but the Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional. Income tax wouldn't become a regular part of American Life until 1914. People would never be this rich again. Spending all this wealth became for many a more or less full-time occupation. A kind of desperate, vulgar edge became attached to almost everything they did. At one New York dinner party, guests found the table heaped with sand and at each place a little gold spade; upon a signal, they were invited to dig in and search for diamonds and other costly glitter buried within. At another party - possibly the most preposterous ever staged - several dozen horses with padded hooves were led into the ballroom of Sherry's, a vast and esteemed eating establishment, and tethered around the tables so that the guests, dressed as cowboys and cowgirls, could enjoy the novel and sublimely pointless pleasure of dining in a New York ballroom on horseback.

Mr. DuPont mused aloud, "Why is it, Captain, that we only appreciate what we have after it is gone? If only the thought of losing something or someone would cause us to value it while it's right under our nose.

What happened? It took Gibbon six volumes to describe the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, so I shan’t embark on that. But thinking about this almost incredible episode does tell one something about the nature of civilisation. It shows that however complex and solid it seems, it is actually quite fragile. It can be destroyed. 

What are its enemies?
 
Well, first of all fear — fear of war, fear of invasion, fear of plague and famine, that make it simply not worthwhile constructing things, or planting trees or even planning next year’s crops. And fear of the supernatural, which means that you daren’t question anything or change anything. The late antique world was full of meaningless rituals, mystery religions, that destroyed self-confidence. And then exhaustion, the feeling of hopelessness which can overtake people even with a high degree of material prosperity. 

There is a poem by the modern Greek poet, Cavafy, in which he imagines the people of an antique town like Alexandria waiting every day for the barbarians to come and sack the city. Finally the barbarians move off somewhere else and the city is saved; but the people are disappointed — it would have been better than nothing. Of course, civilisation requires a modicum of material prosperity—

What civilization needs:

confidence in the society in which one lives, belief in its philosophy, belief in its laws, and confidence in one’s own mental powers. The way in which the stones of the Pont du Gard are laid is not only a triumph of technical skill, but shows a vigorous belief in law and discipline. Vigour, energy, vitality: all the civilisations—or civilising epochs—have had a weight of energy behind them. People sometimes think that civilisation consists in fine sensibilities and good conversations and all that. These can be among the agreeable results of civilisation, but they are not what make a civilisation, and a society can have these amenities and yet be dead and rigid.

Il y a, à Venise, trois lieux magiques et secrets : l'un dans la "rue de l'amour des amis", le deuxième près du "pont des merveilles" et le troisième dans le "sentier des marranes", près de San Geremia, dans le vieux ghetto. Quand les Vénitiens - parfois ce sont les Maltais - sont fatigués des autorités, ils vont dans ces lieux secrets et, ouvrant les portes au fond de ces cours, ils s'en vont pour toujours vers des pays merveilleux et vers d'autres histoires...

The Bluebloods of Burberry Prep A list by Miranda Cabot The Idols (guys): Tristan Vanderbilt (year one), Zayd Kaiser (year one), and Creed Cabot (year one) The Idols (girls): Harper du Pont (year one), Becky Platter (year one), and Gena Whitley (year four) The Inner Circle: Andrew Payson, Anna Kirkpatrick, Myron Talbot, Ebony Peterson, Gregory Van Horn, Abigail Fanning, John Hannibal, Valentina Pitt, Sai Patel, Mayleen Zhang, Jalen Donner … and, I guess, me! Plebs: everyone else, sorry. XOXO

Raven Du Pont. Never in a million years did I think I’d find her walking toward me, wearing a wedding dress that looks beautiful on her, but that wasn’t designed for her. What must it feel like to walk in her sister’s shoes? Nothing about today is hers, not even the man she’s marrying.

Les gens riches à Paris demeurent ensemble, leurs quartiers, en bloc, forment une tranche de gâteau urbain dont la pointe vient toucher au Louvre, cependant que le rebord rebondi s'arrête aux arbres entre le Pont d'Auteuil et la Porte des Ternes. Voilà. C'est le bon morceau. Tout le reste n'est que peine et fumier.

Sometimes, the past holds memories that were so fun and full of wonderful friendship, laughs, and music that when we think about those times...we have to smile

Common sense speaks clearly...if you listen

Peu importaient les responsables au pouvoir, ils se contentaient de modifier l'agencement des transats sur le pont du Titanic, et personne ne se faisait d'illusions.

Tristețea persista, dar durerea aproape că dispăruse, ca și cum s-ar fi evaporat. Atinsese acel prag unde durerea care sfâșie nu mai e decât o melancolie plutitoare ce mai curând umbrește decât rănește.

For the first time in its history, Western Civilization is in danger of being destroyed internally by a corrupt, criminal ruling cabal which is centered around the Rockefeller interests, which include elements from the Morgan, Brown, Rothschild, Du Pont, Harriman, Kuhn-Loeb, and other groupings as well. This junta took control of the political, financial, and cultural life of America in the first two decades of the twentieth century.

The original owner of your house was a man named George Barrett. He was an engineer for DuPont, the chemical company, up in Gibbstown. He had a wife and three daughters, and his cousin Annie came to live here in 1946, right after World War II.

El însuși părea să-și fi luat, față de trecutul lui, distanța pe care o dă indiferența și, poate, ironia. Unele însemnări din carnetul său îl arăta sarcastic, fără rîcă și detașat de toate, cum știu să fie doar cei care într-adevăr au ajuns până departe.

Alexia remarqua que quelque chose clochait. « On nous suit, n’est-ce pas ? » Mme Lefoux hocha la tête. Alexia s’arrêta au milieu du pont et jeta un coup d’œil nonchalant par-dessus son épaule en utilisant son ombrelle pour dissimuler le geste. « S’ils veulent se cacher, ils ne devraient pas porter ces ridicules chemises de nuit blanches. Sortir en public dans une telle tenue, franchement. » Floote corrigea sa maîtresse. « Ce sont de Saintes Tuniques de Piété et de Foi, madame. — Des chemises de nuit », insista Alexia avec fermeté.

Bobby Kennedy gave Cheasty a job with the committee at a salary of $5,000 a year. The FBI planted microphones and set up cameras. Cheasty notified Hoffa that he had an envelope with sensitive committee documents and wanted another cash installment in exchange for the envelope. The two men met near DuPont Circle in Washington, D.C. Cheasty handed the envelope to Jimmy Hoffa. Hoffa handed Cheasty $2,000 in cash. The exchange was photographed. The FBI moved in, catching Jimmy Hoffa red-handed with the documents. They arrested Jimmy Hoffa on the spot. When

For many of us, the companies we work for are an important cultural force in our lives. For instance, growing up, my dad liked to refer to himself as a DuPonter. All the pencils in our house were company-issued, embossed with phrases like Safety First, and my dad would light up every time a DuPont commercial came on television, sometimes even chiming in with the voice-over: “Better things for better living.” I think my dad only met the CEO of DuPont a handful of times, but he’d tell stories of his good judgment the way you might speak of a family war hero.

Tout cette eau descendant avec son chargement de cris, de mélodies, et d'odeurs de jardins, pleine des lueurs cuivrées du ciel couchant et des ombres contorsionnées et grotesques des statues du pont Charles, apportait à Mersault la conscience douloureuse et ardente d'une solitude sans ferveur où l'amour n'avait plus de part. Et s'arrêtant devant le parfum d'eaux et de feuilles qui montait jusqu'à lui, la gorge serrée, il imaginait des larmes qui ne venaient pas. Il eût suffi d'un ami, ou des bras ouverts. Mais les larmes s'arrêtaient à la frontière du monde sans tendresse où il était plongé.

En ce qui me concerne, je suis végétarienne à quatre-vingt-quinze pour cent. L'exception principale serait le poisson, que je mange peut-être deux fois par semaine pour varier un peu mon régime et en n'ignorant pas, d'ailleurs, que dans la mer telle que nous l'avons faite le poisson est lui aussi contaminé. Mais je n'oublie surtout pas l'agonie du poisson tiré par la ligne ou tressautant sur le pont d'une barque. Tout comme Zénon, il me déplaît de "digérer des agonies". En tout cas, le moins de volaille possible, et presque uniquement les jours où l'on offre un repas à quelqu'un ; pas de veau, pas d'agneau, pas de porc, sauf en de rares occasions un sandwich au jambon mangé au bord d'une route ; et naturellement pas de gibier, ni de bœuf, bien entendu. - Pourquoi, bien entendu ? - Parce que j'ai un profond sentiment d'attachement et de respect pour l'animal dont la femelle nous donne le lait et représente la fertilité de la terre. Curieusement, dès ma petite enfance, j'ai refusé de manger de la viande et on a eu la grande sagesse de ne pas m'obliger à le faire. Plus tard, vers la quinzième année, à l'âge où l'on veut "être comme tout le monde", j'ai changé d'avis ; puis, vers quarante ans, je suis revenue à mon point de vue de la sixième année.(p. 288)

Au fond de son âme, cependant, elle attendait un événement. Comme les matelots en détresse elle promenait sur la solitude de sa vie des yeux désespérés, cherchant au loin quelque voile blanche dans les brumes de l’horizon. Elle ne savait pas quel serait ce hasard, le vent qui le pousserait jusqu’à elle, vers quel rivage il la mènerait, s’il était chaloupe ou vaisseau à trois ponts, chargé d’angoisses ou plein de félicités jusqu’aux sabords. Mais chaque matin, à son réveil, elle l’espérait pour la journée, et elle écoutait tous les bruits, se levait en sursaut, s’étonnait qu’il ne vînt pas; puis, au coucher du soleil, toujours plus triste, désirait être au lendemain.

Nous avons quitté la terre et sommes montés à bord ! Nous avons brisé le pont qui était derrière nous, — mieux encore, nous avons brisé la terre qui était derrière nous ! Eh bien ! petit navire, prends garde ! À tes côtés il y a l’océan : il est vrai qu’il ne mugit pas toujours, et parfois sa nappe s’étend comme de la soie et de l’or, une rêverie de bonté. Mais il viendra des heures où tu reconnaîtras qu’il est infini et qu’il n’y a rien de plus terrible que l’infini. Hélas ! pauvre oiseau, toi qui t’es senti libre, tu te heurtes maintenant aux barreaux de cette cage ! Malheur à toi, si tu es saisi du mal du pays de la terre, comme s’il y avait eu là plus de liberté, — et maintenant il n’y a plus de « terre » !

nearly all of the astonishing productivity gains of the last century trace back to the work of a single man, Norman Borlaug, perhaps the best argument for the humanitarian virtue of America’s imperial century. Born to Iowa family farmers in 1914, he went to state school, found work at DuPont, and then, with the help of the Rockefeller Foundation, developed a new collection of high-yield, disease-resistant wheat varieties that are now credited with saving the lives of a billion people worldwide.

Ils se laissèrent porter en direction du nord, vers la gare de Perdido. Ils tournaient lentement, revigorés par cette présence urbaine massive, profane, en dessous d'eux, par ce lieu fécond, grouillant, tel qu'aucun de leurs semblables n'en avait jamais connu jusque là. Partout, le moindre secteur – ponts obscurs, hôtels particuliers vieux de cinq siècles, bazars tortueux, entrepôts de béton, tours, péniches d'habitation, taudis répugnants et parcs au cordeau – grouillait de nourriture. C'était une jungle dépourvue de prédateurs. Un terrain de chasse.

On partit ; Edmond fendit de nouveau cette mer azurée, premier horizon de sa jeunesse, qu'il avait revu si souvent dans les rêves de sa prison. Il laissa à sa droite la Gorgone, à sa gauche la Pianosa, et s'avança vers la patrie de Paoli et de Napoléon. Le lendemain, en montant sur le pont, ce qu'il faisait toujours d'assez bonne heure, le patron trouva Dantès appuyé à la muraille du bâtiment et regardant avec une expression étrange un entassement de rochers granitiques que le soleil levant inondait d'une lumière rosée : c'était l'île de Monte-Cristo.

Certains jours, travaillant aux Mystères de messieurs, j'avais envie d'alléger la planète des neuf dixièmes de ses phallophores - qui, par leur insécurité permanente, leur incertitude d'être (Pour qui tu te prends ? phrase masculine par excellence), leur passion pour les armes, leur rivalité, leur goût du pouvoir, leurs bagarres et magouilles de toutes sortes, conduisent notre espèce droit à l'extinction, d'autres jours au contraire j'avais envie de les remercier à genoux car ils ont inventé la roue et le canoë, l'alphabet et l'appareil photo, élaboré les sciences composé les musiques écrit les livres peint les tableaux bâti les palais les églises les mosquées les ponts les barrages et les routes, travaillé sans compter, durement et modestement, déployant leur force, leur patience, leur énergie et leur savoir-faire dans les champs de mine usines ateliers bibliothèques universités et laboratoires du monde entier. Oh ! hommes merveilleux, anonymes et innombrables, souffrant et vous dévouant, jour après jour, siècle après siècle pour nous faire vivre un peu mieux, avec un peu plus de confort et de beauté et de sens... que je vous aime !

I have not drawn any conclusions, as yet,” says Simon. “In any case, I am less interested in her guilt or innocence, than in…” “Than in the mechanisms at work,” says Dr. DuPont. “That is not quite how I would put it,” says Simon. “It is not the tune played by the musical box, but the little cogs and wheels within it, that concern you.” “And you?” says Simon, who is beginning to find Dr. DuPont more interesting. “Ah,” says DuPont. “For me it is not even the box, with its pretty pictures on the outside. For me, it is only the music. The music is played by a physical object; and yet the music is not that object. As Scripture says, “The wind bloweth where it listeth.

Au fond de son âme, cependant, elle attendait un événement. Comme les matelots en détresse, elle promenait sur la solitude de sa vie des yeux désespérés, cherchant au loin quelque voile blanche dans les brumes de l'horizon. Elle ne savait pas quel serait ce hasard, le vent qui le pousserait jusqu'à elle, vers quel rivage il la mènerait, s'il était chaloupe ou vaisseau à trois ponts, chargé d'angoisses ou plein de félicités jusqu'aux sabords. Mais, chaque matin, à son réveil, elle l'espérait pour la journée, et elle écoutait tous les bruits, se levait en sursaut, s'étonnait qu'il ne vînt pas; puis, au coucher du soleil, toujours plus triste, désirait être au lendemain.

Compared to cotton, synthetic fibers require a lot less water to produce, but that’s not necessarily a good enough argument for using them, since they have other significant impacts: they are still made of oil, and their production can require a lot of energy. MIT calculated that the global impact of producing polyester alone was somewhere between 706 million metric tons of carbon dioxide, or about what 185 coal-fired power plants emit in a year.2 Samit Chevli, the principal investigator for biomaterials at DuPont, the giant chemical company, has said that it will be hundreds of years before regular polyester degrades.3 Plus, while the chemicals used in production typically aren’t released to the environment, if factories don’t have treatment systems in the last phase of production, they can release antimony, an element that can be harmful to human health, as well as other toxins and heavy metals. Despite having just written a good amount about the impacts associated with the production of synthetic fibers, that’s actually not why I wanted to call attention to your yoga pants and dry-fit sweat-wicking T-shirts, which we wear out to dinner. It is hard for me to leave my fashion critique at the door, but what I actually want to say about synthetic fibers is that they are everywhere—not just in all of our clothes, but literally everywhere: rivers, lakes, oceans, agricultural fields, mountaintops, glaciers. Everywhere. Synthetic fibers, actually, may be one of the most abundant, widespread, and stubborn forms of pollution that we have inadvertently created.

On n’y échappe pas : il faut déconstruire tout ce qui fait la beauté de cette langue, les mots, leurs sonorités si anciennes, les références littéraires, les subtilités de l’écriture, l’étymologie et la part d’histoire singulière qu’elle contient. La langue de la traduction est toujours défaillante. Je ne peux rien contre la perte irrémédiable de ce qui me touche le plus. [...] Il y a bien longtemps – aussi loin que mes souvenirs remontent – j’ai trouvé refuge dans la lecture et dans la littérature. Puis ce fut dans l’entre-deux de la traduction, ce pont flottant au milieu des brumes [...]. Je rêve encore à Babel, non comme un monde totalitaire où nous serions tous sommés de ressentir la même chose et de l’exprimer de manière identique, mais comme une unité profonde et sous-jacente courant sous des mots différents, sous des regards fragmentés qui mettent en lumière différents aspects du réel.

Le tunnel qui mène au centre-ville, il a vraiment un truc. Quand il fait nuit, c'est splendide. Tout simplement splendide. D'abord, t'es de l'autre côté de la montagne et il fait sombre, et la radio est à fond. Dès que tu entres dans le tunnel, le vent disparaît d'un coup et tu plisses les yeux à cause des lumières au-dessus de toi. Quand tu t'habitues à la lumière, tu peux voir le bout du tunnel au loin, et pendant ce temps, comme les ondes passent plus, le son de la radio faiblit. Alors tu te retrouves au milieu du tunnel au loin et tout devient très calme, comme un rêve. Tu vois le bout qui se rapproche et t'as qu'une envie, c'est d'y arriver. Et finalement, juste au moment où tu penses que tu l'atteindras jamais, tu vois la sortie devant toi. Et le vent t'attend. Et tu sors du tunnel à toute vitesse, pour te retrouver sur le pont. Et elle est là. La ville. Un million de lumières et d'immeubles, et tout à l'air aussi excitant que la première fois où tu l'as vue. C'est vraiment une belle entrée en scène.

DuPont, for 130 years, had confined itself to making munitions and explosives. In the mid-1920s it then organized its first research efforts in other areas, one of them the brand-new field of polymer chemistry, which the Germans had pioneered during World War I. For several years there were no results at all. Then, in 1928, an assistant left a burner on over the weekend. On Monday morning, Wallace H. Carothers, the chemist in charge, found that the stuff in the kettle had congealed into fibers. It took another ten years before DuPont found out how to make Nylon intentionally. The point of the story is, however, that the same accident had occurred several times in the laboratories of the big German chemical companies with the same results, and much earlier. The Germans were, of course, looking for a polymerized fiber—and they could have had it, along with world leadership in the chemical industry, ten years before DuPont had Nylon. But because they had not planned the experiment, they dismissed its results, poured out the accidentally produced fibers, and started all over again.

Overtaken by demographic transformation and two generations of socio-geographic mobility, France’s once-seamless history seemed set to disappear from national memory altogether. The anxiety of loss had two effects. One was an increase in the range of the official patrimoine, the publicly espoused body of monuments and artifacts stamped ‘heritage’ by the authority of the state. In 1988, at the behest of Mitterrand’s Culture Minister Jack Lang, the list of officially protected items in the patrimoine culturel of “France—previously restricted to UNESCO-style heirlooms such as the Pont du Gard near Nîmes, or Philip the Bold’s ramparts at Aigues-Mortes—was dramatically enlarged. It is revealing of the approach taken by Lang and his successors that among France’s new ‘heritage sites’ was the crumbling façade of the Hôtel du Nord on Paris’s Quai de Jemappes: an avowedly nostalgic homage to Marcel Carné’s 1938 film classic of that name. But Carné shot that movie entirely in a studio. So the preservation of a building (or the façade of a building) which never even appeared in the film could be seen—according to taste—either as a subtle French exercise in post-modern irony, or else as symptomatic of the unavoidably bogus nature of any memory when subjected thus to official taxidermy.

The Numbers         Value of the property that Nixon claimed in 1972 was stolen each year by heroin addicts: $2 billion                    . . . claimed by South Dakota senator George McGovern: $4.4 billion                    . . . claimed by Nixon administration drug treatment expert Robert DuPont: $6.3 billion                    . . . claimed by Illinois senator Charles Percy: $10 billion–$15 billion                    . . . claimed by a White House briefing book on drug abuse distributed to the press: $18 billion         Total value of all reported stolen property in the United States in 1972: $1.2 billion         Number of burglaries committed by heroin addicts each year, per Nixon administration claims: 365 million         Total number of burglaries committed in the United States in 1971: 1.8 million

Ce ne fut qu’en émergeant du palais qu’Arvardan prit vraiment conscience de la folie de cette aventure. D’un côté, l’immense, l’inimaginable danger qui menaçait la galaxie. Et de l’autre, la fragilité de l’aléatoire roseau qui, peut-être, était un pont jeté au-dessus du gouffre. Pourtant, même alors, l’archéologue ne voyait que les yeux de Pola.

Car lorsque l'aquilon bat ses flots palpitants L'océan convulsif tourmente en même temps Le navire à trois ponts qui tonne avec l'orage Et la feuille échappée aux arbres du rivage

The number of genetic engineers currently working on DT traits continues to grow, but given the high regulatory costs of bringing any entirely new GM crop to the market, the first commercialized version of an engineered DT crop will almost certainly come from one of the three big biotechnology companies now in pursuit of this objective in the United States: Syngenta, DuPont/Pioneer, and Monsanto.

A single hug can change your whole perspective

Sometimes, a new beginning isn't forgetting the past. it's just moving forward with all the wonderful memories that we possess as keepsakes that stay with us a lifetime.

I've learned two thing's in my 50+ years...Nothing is more valuable than love, and life is only truly lived if one's happy

We all have the ability to achieve the impossible within us, we need only to find what inspires us enough to release it.

Son derece hafif; ancak bir o kadar güçlü olan (kevlar, çelikten 5 kata kadar daha güçlüdür) bu malzeme, özel üretim bazı mermiler haricinde pekçok mermiyi vücuda ulaşmadan durdurabilecek özelliktedir. DuPont Kimya Firması'nın kimyagerlerinden olan Stephanie Kwolek tarafından icat edilmiş ve patentlenmiştir. Kwolek, bu icadı yaptığında aslında araba tekerleklerini daha da hafifleştirecek bir proje üzerinde çalışmaktaydı ve kevları yanlışlıkla geliştirdi.

Yeux mi-clos, il humait à présent dans les souffles du large l’âcreté du sel, il écoutait les vents siffler à son oreille, messagers rafraîchissants annonciateurs d’orage. Célian sentait à travers le tissu du hamac la peau réchauffée de Nyssa toujours endormie, sa longue chevelure princière apanagée de la lumière du jour. L’agile équipage de l’Astéropée, muscles tendus, œuvrait d’un bel ensemble autour des écoutes, habitué à manœuvrer les cordages et les voiles sur les mâts protégés de plusieurs couches d’huile de lin ; mais à cet instant les marins qui prenaient leur quart étaient allongés sur le pont pour admirer le lever de soleil.

Only four companies—Proctor & Gamble, General Electric, AT&T, and DuPont—have survived on the Dow Jones index of the top-thirty U.S. industrial stocks since the 1960s.

Firewater Sometimes I think how alcohol’s a marvelous solvent, can remove red people from a continent, turn bronze to guilt. What was DuPont’s old motto—Better things for better living through chemistry? You take potatoes from Peru, barley from Palestine, maize from Mexico, sugar cane from

Sous un ciel infiniment pur et très haut, dans la lumière douce de la lune, la place de la Concorde paraissait immense et étrange. A cette heure, ce n’était plus un carrefour de Paris, avec son obélisque aux lignes hiératiques, la voie blanche du pont menant à un palais d’architecture grecque, la large avenue des Champs-Élysées fuyant mystérieusement sous la verdure, les terrasses désertes et les jardins silencieux des Tuileries, elle ressemblait à l’agora de quelque ville de rêve sur laquelle planait le sommeil et qui donnait une délicieuse sensation d’immobilité, d’apaisement et de repos.

D.44 - Etes-vous venu par terre ou par mer ? R.44 - En premier lieu, je suis venu par terre ; j'ai pris ensuite un bateau... (Le voyageur, entre trois routes, a choisi celle du centre, a rencontré un héron blanc (symbole d'immortalité), puis huit prêtres portant des objets rituels, évidente évocation des Huit Immortels taoïste ; il a visité le tempe de Ling-wang, traversé la montagne du Dragon Noir ; au pied de la montagne du Clou, il a trouvé un bateau - longue description de ce bateau merveilleux au 21 ponts, aux 21 cales, aux 72 coutures et aux 108 clous : l'une des cales contient du riz rouge, une autre la "Sainte Mère Kouan-yin" entourée des Frères Hong ; la cargaison est essentiellement constituée par du "bois rouge" et du "riz rouge" - ) [333 questions]

In the 1950s Univac made the best computers for data processing, but by the late 1960s the company was in decline. DuPont asked Cutler to improve the reliability of its aging Univac, which meant fiddling with the machine’s operating system. Until then Cutler had never even thought about operating systems. But the company’s computer experts seemed not to know much either, and he jumped in. Computer

learned to live totally in the present and die to the past. Realizing

Dow Chemical has experimented with this concept in Europe, and DuPont is taking up this idea vigorously.

Are you saying the Vatican only sent one agent to stop the end of the world?” I said. DuPont’s face took on a look of mock shock. “Heavens, no. They sent two of us. Same as the DMA.

The idea of employing a deceptive front group to mask corporate self-interest was not original, even within the Koch family. The same ruse had been used not just by the du Pont family and others during the New Deal years but also by a group to which Fred Koch belonged in the 1950s. He was an early and active member of the Wichita-based DeMille Foundation for Political Freedom, an antilabor union group that was a forerunner of the National Right to Work Legal Defense Foundation.

The goulash smells yummy," Lizzy mentioned as she headed to the

Fifty years later, in the 1920s, the American DuPont Company independently set up a similar unit and called it a Developmental Department. This department gathers innovative ideas from all over the company, studies them, thinks them through, analyses them. Then it proposes to top management which ones should be tackled as major innovative projects. From the beginning, it brings to bear on the innovation all the resources needed: research, development, manufacturing, marketing, finance, and so on. It is in charge until the new product or service has been on the market for a few years.

Venise, dix heures du soir (samedi) A bord de la Vénus, Loyd autrichien. On est déjà vraiment en Autriche ; le matelot qui m'a conduit à ma cabine m'a demandé : "Erste Klasse ? ..." Sur la table du salon où j'écris, j'ai des journaux allemands tout autour de moi ; des vues du Tyrol, des visages d'actrices du Trianon-Theater de Berlin. Mon regard, promené au hasard, tombe sur un poème : Blauer Forellenbach La Vénus sous pression tremble toute : on sera demain matin à sept heures à Trieste. La promenade dans les petits coins du navire est toujours amusante ; c'est très propre et très brillant : tout luit, à l'intérieur ; le vernis blanc des cabines, les bois et les glaces des salons, les branches métalliques des lampes. Des avis affichés font penser, rédigés en grec, en serbe, en allemand, en italien, à toute l'activité maritime de l'Adriatique. C'est l'Orient et l'Occident mêlés. Et si l'on se sent en pays allemand au fond de ce steamer, on n'a qu'à remonter sur le pont pour retrouver, tout près, l'Italie. Des gondoles approchent, chargées de passagers et de bagages : les faisceaux des becs électriques au quai des Esclavons, allongeant des reflets blancs sur la lagune pareille à du papier glacé noir, éclairent assez distinctement le Jardin Royal, le palais rose des Doges, la façade rouge du Daniéli, et, en face, la Piazetta. L'embarquement se fait sans bruit ; les gondolent viennent frôler le flanc du navire tourné vers la ville, et les porteurs montent, sans cris, les grosses malles, le long du petit escalier qui pend sur l'eau. De Venise, toujours silencieuse, aucune rumeur ne vient, et les flots sont trop faibles et trop lents pour clapoter ... Pleine de chanteurs, une gondole s'arrête au bas de l'escalier volant. La légère musique italienne : les cordes pincées d'une mandoline, deux voix d'hommes et une voix de femme se mettent à courir de ce brave petit pas alerte et tremblant que l'on connaît si bien.

Ils chantent les chansons entendues partout, et dont beaucoup de voyageurs étrangers fredonnent les refrains, en écoutant, debout sur le pont, ils chantent, naturellement, Santa Lucia, Addio, mia bella Napoli, Margherita, mais c'est l'Italie qui nous salue ainsi à notre départ, avec sa musique toute spirituelle, dont on ne sait pas au juste si c'est de la joie contenue ou des larmes prêtes à couler. Minuit sonne à Saint-Marc ; c'est le seul bruit que Venise nous envoie. Les habituels préparatifs de la mise en marche s'accomplissent sans trop de grincement. Un petit torpilleur, avec trois lanternes aux couleurs italiennes, s'est placé derrière la Vénus et, au départ, il nous escorte rasant le bord extrême d'écume blanche que fait l'hélice en mouvement. En mer. Une heure du matin. Je monte sur le pont désert. Les vers de Laforgue Ah! que la nuit est lointainement pleine De silencieuse infinité claire ... Viennent naturellement à l'esprit : la pleine lune, dans le ciel pur, confond la mer et le ciel en une même teinte grise, transparente et délicate. On ne voit plus rien de la côte, qu'un phare lointain, sur la gauche. Le petit torpilleur avec ses lumières verte, blanche et rouge, ne nous suit plus. Le navire est tout seul dans la vaste clarté lunaire.

Marguerite DuPont Lee’s Virginia Ghosts,

What happened? It took Gibbon six volumes to describe the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, so I shan’t embark on that. But thinking about this almost incredible episode does tell one something about the nature of civilisation. It shows that however complex and solid it seems, it is actually quite fragile. It can be destroyed. What are its enemies? Well, first of all fear – fear of war, fear of invasion, fear of plague and famine, that make it simply not worthwhile constructing things, or planting trees or even planning next year’s crops. And fear of the supernatural, which means that you daren’t question anything or change anything. The late antique world was full of meaningless rituals, mystery religions, that destroyed self-confidence. And then exhaustion, the feeling of hopelessness which can overtake people even with a high degree of material prosperity. There is a poem by the modern Greek poet, Cavafy, in which he imagines the people of an antique town like Alexandria waiting every day for the barbarians to come and sack the city. Finally the barbarians move off somewhere else and the city is saved; but the people are disappointed – it would have been better than nothing. Of course, civilisation requires a modicum of material prosperity – enough to provide a little leisure. But, far more, it requires confidence – confidence in the society in which one lives, belief in its philosophy, belief in its laws, and confidence in one’s own mental powers. The way in which the stones of the Pont du Gard are laid is not only a triumph of technical skill, but shows a vigorous belief in law and discipline. Vigour, energy, vitality: all the great civilisations – or civilising epochs – have had a weight of energy behind them. People sometimes think that civilisation consists in fine sensibilities and good conversation and all that. These can be among the agreeable results of civilisation, but they are not what make a civilisation, and a society can have these amenities and yet be dead and rigid. So if one asks why the civilisation of Greece and Rome collapsed, the real answer is that it was exhausted.

Esme DuPont.

In 1928, within weeks of moving to DuPont, Carothers decided to prove his theory about the bonding in giant molecules by building one. One of the best-known reactions in organic chemistry involves creating compounds called esters by joining together certain acids and alcohols. Carothers hypothesized that molecules that had acid functions on both ends could be reacted with molecules that had alcohol groupings on both ends in order to form long chains. He was right: Carothers had invented polyesters

The Du Ponts supplied more grist for Butler’s antiwar mill in September, when the Senate Munitions Investigating Committee revealed that the munitions industry, led by the Du Ponts, had sabotaged a League of Nations disarmament conference held at Geneva.

Its contributors included representatives of the Morgan, Du Pont, Rockefeller, Pew, and Mellon interests. Directors of the League included Al Smith and John J. Raskob. The League later formed affiliations with pro-Fascist, antilabor, and anti-Semitic organizations. It astonished Butler that former New York Governor Al Smith, who had lost the 1928 presidential race to Hoover as the Democratic candidate, could be involved in a Fascist plot backed by wealthy men.

What happened? It took Gibbon six volumes to describe the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, so I shan’t embark on that. But thinking about this almost incredible episode does tell one something about the nature of civilisation. It shows that however complex and solid it seems, it is actually quite fragile. It can be destroyed. What are its enemies? Well, first of all fear – fear of war, fear of invasion, fear of plague and famine, that make it simply not worthwhile constructing things, or planting trees or even planning next year’s crops. And fear of the supernatural, which means that you daren’t question anything or change anything. The late antique world was full of meaningless rituals, mystery religions, that destroyed self-confidence. And then exhaustion, the feeling of hopelessness which can overtake people even with a high degree of material prosperity. There is a poem by the modern Greek poet, Cavafy, in which he imagines the people of an antique town like Alexandria waiting every day for the barbarians to come and sack the city. Finally the barbarians move off somewhere else and the city is saved; but the people are disappointed – it would have been better than nothing. Of course, civilisation requires a modicum of material prosperity – enough to provide a little leisure. But, far more, it requires confidence – confidence in the society in which one lives, belief in its philosophy, belief in its laws, and confidence in one’s own mental powers. The way in which the stones of the Pont du Gard are laid is not only a triumph of technical skill, but shows a vigorous belief in law and discipline. Vigour, energy, vitality: all the great civilisations – or civilising epochs – have had a weight of energy behind them. People sometimes think that civilisation consists in fine sensibilities and good conversation and all that. These can be among the agreeable results of civilisation, but they are not what make a civilisation, and a society can have these amenities and yet be dead and rigid. So

Hate is an emotion that will fill your heart and infect your soul. Never hate anything enough to steal your happiness

Love everyone, no matter what way they see the World

Even when philanthropist Pierre S. Du Pont launched a program to bring these schools up to code, white residents made it clear that they not only opposed public funding for black schools but were equally resistant to private, philanthropic resources intervening as well.

Parce que les scénarios qu'on élabore ne servent à rien. Parce qu'on ne peut rien changer à ce qui s'est passé. Parce qu'on peut passer sa vie à sa culpabiliser, à se dire qu'on aurait dû prendre d'autres décisions, au bout du compte la réalité sera toujours la même.

Parce que les scénarios qu'on élabore ne servent à rien. Parce qu'on ne peut rien changer à ce qui s'est passé. Parce qu'on peut passer sa vie à sa culpabiliser, à se dire qu'on aurait dû prendre d'autres décisions, au bout du compte la réalité sera toujours la même. Parce qu'il est inutile d'ajouter de la colère à la tristesse. Parce qu'il est temps de vivre avec cette réalité. Parce que vivre avec, ce n'est pas oublier.

The crash program for building the “super” dwarfed even the Manhattan Project. The AEC nearly tripled in size, growing from a handful of sites and 55,000 employees to 142,000 employees spread across more than a score of sites. It would devour nearly 7 percent of the nation’s entire electrical output, and, according to historian Richard Rhodes, exceed in capital investment the combined market capitalization of Bethlehem Steel, U.S. Steel, Alcoa, DuPont, Goodyear, and General Motors.

Finally, with a last glance around the store, I pushed out the door, which had a quaint old-time bell on an armature. I looked around and headed into a coffee shop nearby. DuPont Circle survives on chic and Café Cafe had that aplenty. The accent mark was a clue, as was the $25/LB. sign in one bin of dark beans. I ordered a black filtered Colombian, the cheapest thing on a menu full of exotic concoctions, none of which were to my mind coffee, tasty though they might be. I

Monsanto and DuPont Pioneer have grown into global seed giants, now controlling 45 percent of all the seed sold in the world. Short of going completely organic and dropping out of growing commodity grains, how is a farmer supposed to avoid raising corn and soybeans that have been genetically modified to withstand Roundup?

En résumé, la société toute entière repose sur l’industrie. Celle-ci est à elle seule garantie de son existence, la source unique de toutes les richesses. La classe des producteurs - paysans, artisans, ouvriers, entrepreneurs - est la classe fondamentale, la classe nourricière de la société, celle sans laquelle aucune autre ne peut subsister. Dans cette optique, la politique telle que nous la concevons devrait n’être que la science de la production, c’est-à-dire la science qui pour objet d’instaurer l’ordre le plus favorable à tous les genres de production. Or nous vivons actuellement dans un monde renversé : la nation a admis pour principe fondamental que les pauvres doivent être généreux à l’égard des riches, et l’art de gouverner est réduit à donner aux frelons la plus forte portion du miel prélevé sur les abeilles. […] Les frelons sont les oisifs. […] Ceux qui piquent et font du mal sans apporter aucun bienfait : les rentiers, les propriétaires fonciers, les boursicoteurs, les politiciens, les nobles de Cour, les profiteurs d’héritages, les militaires de salon, les prêtres qui s’enrichissent au détriment des paroisses. Les abeilles produisent le bon miel dont tout le monde a besoin : le pain, l’acier, le charbon, les routes et les ponts, et toutes ces merveilles scientifiques et techniques sans lesquelles nous vivrions encore au Moyen-Âge. Or les frelons pillent les abeilles sans vergogne, cela est démontré chaque jour.

Hanford, says Marshall, “was a tough town. There was nothing to do after work except fight, with the result that occasionally bodies were found in garbage cans the next morning.”1902 Du Pont built saloons with windows hinged for easy tear-gas lobbing. Eventually some 5,000 construction workers struggled in the desert dust and Du Pont built more than two hundred barracks to house them. Meat rationing stopped at the edge of the reservation; there were no meatless Tuesdays in the vast Hanford mess halls, a significant enticement for recruiting

It's yesterdays mistakes realized, that will make today one the greatest of our lives" - Phil DuPont

If we ever stop dreaming of a better tomorrow, then we are surely destined to fade into yesterday

They say Time heals all wounds....I say Family, Friends and Love does

- On parle tant du premier amour, hein Marco ? On ment comme pour tout le reste. - C'est ainsi, Modesta, moi non plus je n'aurais jamais imaginé, et malheureusement il faut arriver à notre âge pour le savoir. Tu as vu aujourd'hui sur le pont comme ces jeunes nous regardaient ? J'ai presque eu la tentation de le leur dire, mais ils ne m'auraient pas cru. Non, on ne peut communiquer à personne cette plénitude de joie que donne l'excitation vitale de défier le temps à deux, d'être partenaire dans l'art de le dilater, en le vivant le plus intensément possible avant que ne sonne l'heure de la dernière aventure.

Raskob decided to enter the world of New York real estate and give his pal a job as the head of the undertaking. Raskob convinced some of his wealthy friends, including Pierre S. du Pont, to join him in a syndicate, and they negotiated with Chatham Phenix for the Waldorf-Astoria site. They were the mysterious prospective buyers whose interest in the site had been floated. By all accounts, they got the property for a song—$16 or $17 million. On August 29, 1929, the same day the city announced that Second Avenue would be the site for the next subway line, former governor Al Smith lived up to a promise made months before to newspaper reporters to announce his business plans. From his suite in the Hotel Biltmore, surrounded by trappings of his former office, Smith announced the creation of a company that would build a thousand-foot-high eighty-

Four of the directors were there to perform more mundane tasks. Kaufman, Earle, Raskob, and du Pont would supply the requisite start-up funds, but not even those millionaires were willing to put up the cost of the entire undertaking. The issuance of stock was not deemed suitable. They needed a $27.5 million loan. They

Florida Panhandle, landholdings that would be the foundation of the du Pont family’s enormous St. Joe Paper Company, a paper mill and land development

American Du Pont Merrimac Town Car

The word ‘canvas’ comes from ‘cannabis.’ Anyway, here’s why marijuana became illegal.” Skye leaned forward as though telling us a secret. “It competed with wood, paper, and the newly invented nylon. It threatened the wrong people, like Randolph Hearst and the du Pont family. They lobbied against it, and cannabis was made effectively illegal in 1937 when it was taxed up the wazoo. The government changed its mind during World War II because the Japanese controlled the production of manila rope, made from hemp, and we needed to produce our own, but they turned the tax back on after the war.

Michael Grayum lives in the greater Seattle area and hold a master’s degree in public administration. He has spent over 20 years in political, government, non-profit and corporate environments. From 2012 to 2016 he served as Mayor of DuPont Washington, and he was the Director of Public Affairs for the Puget Sound Partnership in Olympia Washington. Mr. Grayum has the spectrum of management and administrative functions.

To be fair, later, when I read through the scientific literature, I realized this is not a failing of DuPont’s. It seems to be standard for scientists in this field, even the very best. They overwhelmingly focus on biochemistry and the brain. The questions Bruce and Gabor look at—how people use drugs out here on the streets—are ignored. Nobody, I kept being told, wants to fund studies into that. Why would this be? Professor Carl Hart at Columbia University is one of the leading experts in the world on how drugs affect the brain. He tells me that when you explain these facts to the scientists who have built their careers on the simplistic old ideas about drugs, they effectively say to you: “Look, man—this is my position. Leave me alone.” This is what they know. This is what they have built their careers on. If you offer ideas that threaten to eclipse theirs—they just ignore you. I ask Professor Hart: Can our central idea about drugs really be as hollow as that? “Can it be as hollow? I think you have discovered—it is as hollow as that . . . Look at the evidence. It’s hollow . . . It’s smoke and mirrors.” But why, then, do these ideas persist? Why haven’t the scientists with the better and more accurate ideas eclipsed these old theories? Hart tells me bluntly: Almost all the funding for research into illegal drugs is provided by governments waging the drug war—and they only commission research that reinforces the ideas we already have about drugs. All these different theories, with their radical implications—why would governments want to fund those?

Certaines personnes appellent des structures telles que les pyramides égyptiennes des "ruines anciennes", mais nous les appelons des" ponts parfaits "où nous pouvons atteindre et toucher les merveilleux maîtres du passé !

In the upcoming months I would learn more about DPG’s history, but early on I learned about one derivatives trade that I think exemplifies the group’s business. This particular trade, and its acronym, were among the group’s most infamous early inventions, although it still is popular among certain investors. The trade is called PERLS. PERLS stands for Principal Exchange Rate Linked Security, so named because the trade’s principal repayment is linked to various foreign exchange rates, such as British pounds or German marks. PERLS look like bonds and smell like bonds. In fact, they are bonds—an extremely odd type of bond, however, because they behave like leveraged bets on foreign exchange rates. They are issued by reputable companies (DuPont, General Electric Credit) and U.S. government agencies (Fannie Mae, Sallie Mae), but instead of promising to repay the investor’s principal at maturity, the issuers promise to repay the principal amount multiplied by some formula linked to various foreign currencies. For example, if you paid $100 for a normal bond, you would expect to receive interest and to be repaid $100 at maturity, and in most cases you would be right. But if you paid $100 for PERLS and expected to receive $100 at maturity, in most cases you would be wrong. Very wrong. In fact, if you bought PERLS and expected to receive exactly your principal at maturity, you either did not understand what you were buying, or you were a fool. PERLS are a kind of bond called a structured note, which is simply a custom-designed bond. Structured notes are among the derivatives that have caused the most problems for buyers. If you own a structured note, instead of receiving a fixed coupon and principal, your coupon or principal—or both—may be adjusted by one or more complex formulas.

La mort de la prophétesse Je vous ai laissés avec le soleil et les eaux aux rames, et je vous retrouve tués avec les faux et les lames. C’est à vous et à vous que j’ai laissé ce jardin plein de grenades et de rosée, pour en faucher l’herbe, pour en cueillir les fruits, et vivre unis ! Mais à peine ai-je fermé la porte, et mes cendres balayées, le vent les emporte. À peine j’ai franchi le seuil, au départ, et vous avez déchiré mon livre et mon étendard. La cour, je ne l’avais pas encore quittée, et quelqu’un est sorti pour s’assurer que je n’étais pas de retour. Un autre regardait le ciel par la bouche du four, dans l’espace apercevant ma cheville, sur des ponts d’argent. Suivie par les cyclones qui me mettent en chasse, je reviendrais par la voie des navires, mais elle pèse sur moi, la Mer des Sargasses, muraille que l’Océan seul peut bâtir. (traduit du roumain par Elisabeta Isanos)

« Ravie de te revoir ! » répondit Lee avec un grand sourire, « Par contre, je dois vraiment aller me coucher. La journée a été longue. » « Ne serait-ce pas là une façon très indélicate de m’inviter à te suivre ? » demanda-t-il, d’un air taquin. Lee lui donna un petit coup de coude et ils éclatèrent de rire. Ils se mirent debout et s’adossèrent à la barrière du pont. « Si je voulais réellement que tu me suives, je ne chercherais pas une manière indélicate de te le faire savoir. » le provoqua Lee. Lee était quelqu’un d’honnête. Elle n’était pas le genre de fille à passer par quatre chemins : si elle voulait quelque chose, elle le disait clairement et l’obtenait par n’importe quel moyen. Particulièrement avec lui. « Je sais, je rigole. J’ai adoré la tête que tu as tirée. Tu sais bien que j’aime bien t’ennuyer… » gloussa-t-il en se rapprochant d’elle et en l’enlaçant à nouveau, « J’ai de nouveaux tatouages depuis la dernière fois. Tu veux les voir ? Je suis sûr que tu les adorerais. »

General Motors could buy Delaware if DuPont were willing to sell it.

Michael Grayum - An Expert In Public Administration Michael Grayum is an expert in public administration and has served as an experienced Public Affairs Director. He was mayor of DuPont, Washington for four years and attended Pacific Lutheran University where he received his bachelor’s degree in business administration. He continued his education at University of Washington’s Evans School of Public Policy and Governance, where he earned a master’s degree in public administration.

When you push the boundaries, a lot of it is just probing. It has to be inefficient,” Casadevall told me. “What’s gone totally is that time to talk and synthesize. People grab lunch and bring it into their offices. They feel lunch is inefficient, but often that’s the best time to bounce ideas and make connections.” When engineer Bill Gore left DuPont to form the company that invented Gore-Tex, he fashioned it after his observation that companies do their most impactful creative work in a crisis, because the disciplinary boundaries fly out the window. “Communication really happens in the carpool,” he once said. He made sure that “dabble time” was a cultural staple.

26 avril (1996). {Les lieux, les dates et les personnages évoqués dans les pages qui suivent sont aussi authentiques que possible.} Les souvenirs sont encore là, les impressions plutôt (les chiens la nuit, les trottoirs et la chaussée crevée après l'hiver, les sons de la langue roumaine…) qui ne sont pas encore des souvenirs, mais semblent disponibles, mobilisées, présentes. Ce n'est pas que je me souviens : je sais comment faire pour descendre au rez-de-chaussée après le réveil, traverser le terrain qui sépare la Casa de Oaspeți [la Maison d'hôtes de l'Université] de la rue, entre les voitures abandonnées (un car allemand immobilisé là sans doute depuis longtemps) ou en cours de réparation sur un pont rudimentaire, passer devant l'Academia de Arte devant laquelle de bon matin sont déjà rassemblés des étudiants en musique, à côté du robinet vissé à un simple tuyau planté dans le sol, et qui coule toujours (les chiens viennent périodiquement y boire). Tout cela m'est présent. Mais je sens aussi comment ces diverses sensations s'écartent les unes des autres, se désolidarisent déjà : certaines prennent de l'importance aux dépens des autres, forment de petits groupes, s'organisent en "souvenirs" aptes à entrer dans la mémoire profonde.

J’attends l’an premier J’attends l’an premier d’une autre ère, l’an de la paix sur la terre. On aura démoli les grands abattoirs de l’Histoire. Mon cœur murmure déjà : « Frère, pardonne-moi cet héritage de haine, et au nom de la souffrance humaine, prends ma main, frère. Moi aussi j'ai mordu la poussière et j'ai pleuré. Tous les miens morts, éteint le feu du foyer, dans mon incendiée patrie… Aurore étrange, le sang avait lui, Les uns après les autres, les horizons tombèrent devant moi et derrière. Je franchissais les confins, des rivières et des monts. Et personne n’était plus grand que les grands soldats sans noms. Nous nous frayions une voie à travers les foules grises qui se retiraient, effrayées, comme l’eau. Les obus tuaient et creusaient du même coup le tombeau de la mère et de l’enfant. Et la mort, comme un revenant, traversait les champs désertés. Et cependant, le yacht aux ponts dorés par le soleil du Midi, comme un oiseau sans tache, flottait. Le milliardaire fumait sa havane: « Ô monde merveilleusement réglé ! » (Un ver qui grossit dans la plaie qu’il profane, de l’humanité toujours dans le sang…) Frère, n’ayons plus de ressentiments ni de rêves chauvins. Comme moi, tu travailles de tes mains. Tu laboures la terre. Peut-être, tu écris. Il y a des foyers pauvres en d’autres lieux aussi. Sur ton visage, je comprends sans mots que tu te réveilles chaque jour très tôt, et couches tard chaque soir. Donne-moi ta main, sors de ton cercueil, démolissons les historiques abattoirs, regarde : le soleil sur le seuil… (traduit du roumain par Elisabeta Isanos)

À cloche-pied tu piétines les voix Qui les a ensevelies ? Le vent furète dans le temps Un pont sépare les mondes avec le mythe du passage (p. 64)

barbouiller /baʀbuje/ I. vtr 1. (salir) to smear (de "with") • ~ son visage/un meuble de qch | to get sth all over one's face/a piece of furniture, to smear one's face/a piece of furniture with sth • il est tout barbouillé | his face is all dirty • il est tout barbouillé de confiture | his face is all smeared with jam 2. (couvrir) to daub [surface, support] (de "with") • ~ un plafond/une porte de peinture verte | to slap green paint on a ceiling/a door, to daub a ceiling/a door with green paint • ~ un pont d'inscriptions | to daub graffiti all over a bridge 3. (peindre) • (pej) ~ des natures mortes/des paysages | to do daubs of still lives/landscapes (péj) • ~ du papier | to write drivel (péj) 4. (rendre malade) • cela barbouille l'estomac | it makes you feel queasy • être or se sentir barbouillé | to feel queasy II. vpr • (se salir) se ~ le visage/le corps de qch | to get one's face/body all covered in sth, to smear one's face/body with sth

The first chlorofluorocarbon compound they synthesized was dichlorodifluoromethane (CCl2F2), known as F12 and sold under the proprietary name Freon, whose intermediate was trichlorofluoromethane (CFCl3 known as F11), and although they did not make it, they were aware that they could also produce the overfluorinated alternative, chlorotrifluoromethane (CF3Cl), known as F13. They sniffed F12 and survived the experiment; then they organized a series of guinea pig tests proving the compound’s safety. In April 1930 Midgley introduced Freon at the American Chemical Society meeting in a surprising manner, inhaling a bit of it on stage (nontoxic!) and slowly exhaling it to distinguish a candle flame (nonflammable!). In August 1930 GM and DuPont set up a joint stock company to make and market the compound, and Freon received its US patent (under the generic title Heat transfers) in November 1931.