Eclipse Of Reason Quotes

You know, Jacob, if it weren’t for the fact that we’re natural enemies and that you’re also trying to steal away the reason for my existence, I might actually like you.

To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen.... And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.

Let us say in passing, to be blind and to be loved, is in fact--on this earth where nothing is complete--one of the most strangely exquisite forms of happiness. To have continually at your side a woman, a girl, a sister, a charming being, who is there because you need her, and because she cannot do without you, to know you are indispensable to someone necessary to you, to be able at all times to measure her affection by the degree of the presence that she gives you, and to say to yourself: She dedicates all her time to me, because I possess her whole love; to see the thought if not the face; to be sure of the fidelity of one being in a total eclipse of the world; to imagine the rustling of her dress as the rustling of wings; to hear her moving to and fro, going out, coming in, talking, singing, to think that you are the cause of those steps, those words, that song; to show your personal attraction at every moment; to feel even more powerful as your infirmity increases; to become in darkness, and by reason of darkness, the star around which this angel gravitates; few joys can equal that. The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves--say rather, loved in spite of ourselves; the conviction the blind have. In their calamity, to be served is to be caressed. Are they deprived of anything? No. Light is not lost where love enters. And what a love! A love wholly founded in purity. There is no blindness where there is certainty.

What is a valid reason for someone to love someone else? Since apparently I’m doing it wrong.

Pragmatism reflects a society that has no time to remember and meditate.

Well-informed cynicism is only another mode of conformity.

Charity is the power of defending that which we know to be indefensible. Hope is the power of being cheerful in circumstances which we know to be desperate. It is true that there is a state of hope which belongs to bright prospects and the morning; but that is not the virtue of hope. The virtue of hope exists only in earthquake and eclipse. It is true that there is a thing crudely called charity, which means charity to the deserving poor; but charity to the deserving is not charity at all, but justice. It is the undeserving who require it, and the ideal either does not exist at all, or exists wholly for them. For practical purposes it is at the hopeless moment that we require the hopeful man, and the virtue either does not exist at all, or begins to exist at that moment. Exactly at the instant when hope ceases to be reasonable it begins to be useful.

The power of getting to know one another is so immense, eclipsed only by first getting to know ourselves.

Shelby believed that love was like a solar eclipse - breathtakingly beautiful, absorbing, and capable of rendering you blind. She had not necessarily gone out of her way to avoid a relationship, but she hadn't wanted on either. It was called falling in love for a reason - because, inevitably, you crashed at the bottom.

Although most people never overcome the habit of berating the world for their difficulties, those who are too weak to make a stand against reality have no choice but to obliterate themselves by identifying with it. They are never rationally reconciled to civilization. Instead, they bow to it, secretly accepting the identity of reason and domination, of civilization and the ideal, however much they may shrug their shoulders. Well-informed cynicism is only another mode of conformity. These people willingly embrace or force themselves to accept the rule of the stronger as the eternal norm. Their whole life is a continuous effort to suppress and abase nature, inwardly or outwardly, and to identify themselves with its more powerful surrogates—the race, fatherland, leader, cliques, and tradition. For them, all these words mean the same thing—the irresistible reality that must be honored and obeyed. However, their own natural impulses, those antagonistic to the various demands of civilization, lead a devious undercover life within them.

Now that science has helped us to overcome the awe of the unknown in nature, we are the slaves of social pressures of our own making. When called upon to act independently, we cry for patterns, systems, and authorities. If by enlightenment and intellectual progress we mean the freeing of man from superstitious belief in evil forces, in demons and fairies, in blind fate--in short, the emancipation from fear--then denunciation of what is currently called reason is the greatest service reason can render.

These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, friendship falls off, brothers divide: in cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son and father. This villain of mine comes under the prediction; there's son against father: the king falls from bias of nature; there's father against child. We have seen the best of our time: machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his offence, honesty! 'Tis strange.

Once the philosophical foundation of democracy has collapsed, the statement that dictatorship is bad is rationally valid only for those who are not its beneficiaries, and there is no theoretical obstacle to the transformation of this statement into its opposite.

At first—long before indeed—he had been much occupied with one question; why almost all crimes are so badly concealed and so easily detected, and why almost all criminals leave such obvious traces? He had come gradually to many different and curious conclusions, and in his opinion the chief reason lay not so much in the material impossibility of concealing the crime, as in the criminal himself. Almost every criminal is subject to a failure of will and reasoning power by a childish and phenomenal heedlessness, at the very instant when prudence and caution are most essential. It was his conviction that this eclipse of reason and failure of will power attacked a man like a disease, developed gradually and reached its highest point just before the perpetration of the crime, continued with equal violence at the moment of the crime and for longer or shorter time after, according to the individual case, and then passed off like any other disease. The question whether the disease gives rise to the crime, or whether the crime from its own peculiar nature is always accompanied by something of the nature of disease, he did not yet feel able to decide.

if somthing accurs outside wht we call the natural order,its very smallness may be more immediately unnerving than,for istance,the eclipse of the sun to a tribe without astronomy,where holy awe must override any other feeling. very small cracks in our outer sell of reason let in very cold air. memory in a house,1973

I nee to reason for a plague, ... As far as I know no comets or eclipses have been forecast, and our sins are not great enough for God to be concerned with us.

Usually, even a non-Christian knows something about the earth, the heavens, and the other elements of the world, about the motion and orbit of the stars and even their size and relative positions, about the predictable eclipses of the sun and moon, the cycles of the years and the seasons, about the kinds of animals, shrubs, stones, and so forth, and this knowledge he holds to as being certain from reason and experience. Now, it is a disgraceful and dangerous thing for an infidel to hear a Christian, presumably giving the meaning of Holy Scripture, talking nonsense on these topics; and we should take all means to prevent such an embarrassing situation, in which people show up vast ignorance in a Christian and laugh it to scorn. The shame is not so much that an ignorant individual is derided, but that people outside the household of faith think our sacred writers held such opinions, and, to the great loss of those for whose salvation we toil, the writers of our Scripture are criticized and rejected as unlearned men. If they find a Christian mistaken in a field which they themselves know well and hear him maintaining his foolish opinions about our books, how are they going to believe those books in matters concerning the resurrection of the dead, the hope of eternal life, and the kingdom of heaven, when they think their pages are full of falsehoods on facts which they themselves have learnt from experience and the light of reason? Reckless and incompetent expounders of Holy Scripture bring untold trouble and sorrow on their wiser brethren when they are caught in one of their mischievous false opinions and are taken to task by those who are not bound by the authority of our sacred books. For then, to defend their utterly foolish and obviously untrue statements, they will try to call upon Holy Scripture for proof and even recite from memory many passages which they think support their position, although they understand neither what they say nor the things about which they make assertion [quoting 1 Tim 1:7].

Alas! the forbidden fruits were eaten, And thereby the warm life of reason congealed. A grain of wheat eclipsed the sun of Adam, Like as the Dragon's tail dulls the brightness of the moon.

I'm not a child, Dad. And I'm not grounded anymore, remember?' 'Oh yes, you are. Starting now.' 'For what?' 'Because I said so.' 'Do I need to remind you that I'm a legal adult, Charlie?' 'This is my house, you follow my rules!' My glare turned icy. ' If that's hoe you want it. Do you want my to move out tonight? Or can I have a few days to pack?' Charlie's face went bright red. I instantly felt horrible for playing the move-out card. I took a deep breath and tried to make my tone more reasonable. 'I'll do my time without complaining when I've done something wrong, Dad, but I'm not going to put up with your prejudices.

To behold virtue in her proper form is nothing else but to contemplate morality stripped of all admixture of sensible things and of every spurious ornament of reward or self-love. How much she then eclipses everything else that appears charming to the affections, every one may readily perceive with the least exertion of his reason, if it be not wholly spoiled for abstraction.

The task of critical reflection is not merely to understand the various facts in their historical development (...) but also to see through the notion of fact itself, in its development and therefore in its relativity.

An intelligent man is not one who can merely reason correctly, but one whose mind is open to perceiving objective contents, who is able to receive the impact of their essential structures and to render it in human language; this holds also for the nature of thinking as such, and for its truth content. The neutralization of reason that deprives it of any relation to objective content and of its power of judging the latter, and that degrades it to an executive agency concerned with the how rather than with the what, transforms it to an ever-increasing extent into a mere dull apparatus for registering facts.

It is not a story of brilliant achievement, heroic deeds, or noble sacrifice. It is a story of blind stumbling and chance discovery, of groping in the dark and refusing to admit the light. It is a story replete with obscurantism and prejudice, of sound judgement often eclipsed by loyalty to tradition, and of reason long held subservient to custom. In short, it is a human story

To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men’s motives and actions. But for the trained

To Sherlock Holmes she is always THE woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer—excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was but one woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.

One young fellow pointed to another steamer in the distance, and said it was the Lady of the Lake, a United States vessel which until recently was thought to be the fastest boat on the Lake; but she had just lost a trial-of-speed race to the new Royal Mail Standard boat, the Eclipse, which outran her by four minutes and a half. And I said didn't that make him proud, and he said no, because he had bet a dollar on the Lady. And all present laughed. Then something came clear to me which I used to wonder about. There is a quilt pattern called Lady of the Lake, which I thought was named for the poem; but I could never find any lady in the pattern, nor any lake. But now I saw the boat was named for the poem, and the quilt was named for the boat; because it was a pinwheel design, which must have stood for the paddle going around. And I thought that things did make sense, and did have a design to them, if only you pondered them long enough. And so perhaps might be with recent events, which at the moment seemed to me entirely senseless; and finding out the reason for the quilt pattern was a lesson to me, to have faith.

No nation can approve violence against the most innocent and vulnerable, and expect the effects of that approval to be limited. By 1995, what had seemed a purely private decision in rare circumstances would become a standard method of birth control, an industry, a political litmus test, a rite of passage...a central tenet of a whole culture that centers not around life, its promise and responsibilities, but around self, its creation and cultivation. Those unalienable rights to life and liberty Mr. Jefferson mentioned in the Declaration seem to have been eclipsed by a sad emphasis on the pursuit of happiness. And for all the happiness that the unbridled right to an abortion is supposed to make possible, no political question since slavery seems so heavy with guilt, and its denial. Or else there would be no reason for those who favor abortion to call it something else, "choice" being the most popular euphemism and "reproductive freedom" the most ironic. The signs of this culture of death are now so common that they no longer stand out. In politics and economics, pop culture and art, lifestyle long ago replaced life.

As to the Christian system of faith, it appears to me as a species of Atheism — a sort of religious denial of God. It professes to believe in a man rather than in God. It is a compound made up chiefly of Manism with but little Deism, and is as near to Atheism as twilight is to darkness. It introduces between man and his Maker an opaque body, which it calls a Redeemer, as the moon introduces her opaque self between the earth and the sun, and it produces by this means a religious, or an irreligious, eclipse of light. It has put the whole orbit of reason into shade.

The more these artificial renaissances strive to keep intact the letter of the original doctrines, the more they distort the original meaning, for truth is forged in an evolution of changing and conflicting ideas. Thought is faithful to itself largely through being ready to contradict itself, while preserving, as inherent elements of truth, the memory of the processes by which it was reached. The task of critical reflection is not merely to understand the various facts in their historical development but also to see through the notion of fact itself, in its development and therefore in its relativity.

The scientific principles that man employs to obtain the foreknowledge of an eclipse, or of anything else relating to the motion of the heavenly bodies, are contained chiefly in that part of science which is called trigonometry, or the properties of a triangle, which, when applied to the study of the heavenly bodies, is called astronomy; when applied to direct the course of a ship on the ocean, it is called navigation; when applied to the construction of figures drawn by rule and compass, it is called geometry; when applied to the construction of plans or edifices, it is called architecture; when applied to the measurement of any portion of the surface of the earth, it is called land surveying. In fine, it is the soul of science; it is an eternal truth; it contains the mathematical demonstration of which man speaks, and the extent of its uses is unknown.

Epilogue to Book I. Alas! the forbidden fruits were eaten, And thereby the warm life of reason was congealed. A grain of wheat eclipsed the sun Of Adam, l Like as the Dragon's tail 2 dulls the brightness of the moon. Behold how delicate is the heart, that a morsel of dust Clouded its moon with foul obscurity! When bread is "substance," to eat it nourishes us; When 'tis empty "form," it profits nothing. Like as the green thorn which is cropped by the camel, And then yields him pleasure and nutriment; When its greenness has gone and it becomes dry, If the camel crops that same thorn in the desert, It wounds his palate and mouth without pity, As if conserve of roses should turn to sharp swords. When bread is "substance," it is as a green thorn; When 'tis "form," 'tis as the dry and coarse thorn. And thou eatest it in the same way as of yore Thou wert wont to eat it, O helpless being, Eatest this dry thing in the same manner, After the real "substance" is mingled with dust; It has become mingled with dust, dry in pith and rind. O camel, now beware of that herb! The Word is become foul with mingled earth; The water is become muddy; close the mouth of the well, Till God makes it again pure and sweet; Yea, till He purifies what He has made foul. Patience will accomplish thy desire, not haste. Be patient, God knows what is best.

Nope. Not even close. After writing this book, I’m convinced that Alexander Hamilton is one of the main reasons—maybe the reason—that we are the United States, not just some united states. He’s the reason that we do more in America than just plant cabbage and herd sheep. With astonishing foresight that eclipsed every other Founding Father’s—Washington, Adams, Jefferson, all of them—Hamilton envisioned the future of the United States. Then he made it happen.

As melancholia replaced the jarring of my invention, I sat. Unable to breathe in the smog I had created, unable to stand on my betraying legs, unable to howl at the heavens over my sordid soul. In this inferno, I became paroxysmic, my self-hatred, superparamount, numbness dulling the agony of such a devilish act, An iron curtain fell upon the surrounding world, or at least what I had left of it to be owned by the laconic eclipse. All the angels fled, disowning my prayers, the lurid world backed away, leaving me forsaken and detached, I could no longer hear the bombings, hear them fall, my own fabrication, only the dead air that came after, the intense silence. Cynical and paralyzed, I realized I had purloined a portion of Hell and given it to the unwilling Earth, Punishing those I had no right to punish, judging those I had no reason to condemn, destroying cities I had never set foot in. This is how I became Death, the destroyer of Worlds.

Something is missing. Our inner adventurers hug the walls as shadows, eclipsed by parental and culturally expected responsibility. I still think of myself as a vagabond, and yet these days I only travel for work. I am a writer and Kyle works from home for a small company, but we feel the heaviness of our ordinary life. It is a reasonable weight; we aren't overcommitted, and I am mightily grateful for the years of exploration behind us. But our existence is still heavy with midlife expectations.

VANNBRUGGHE. (Spitting upon the floor) But the bounds of the Mind are yet unknown: we form our Judgments too much on what has been done without knowing what might be done. Originals must soar into the region of Liberty. DYER. And then fall down, since they have Wings made only of Wax. Why prostrate your Reason to meer Nature? We live off the Past: it is in our Words and our Syllables. It is reverberant in our Streets and Courts, so that we can scarce walk across the Stones without being reminded of those who walked there before us; the Ages before our own are like an Eclipse which blots out the Clocks and Watches of our present Artificers and, in that Darkness, the Generations jostle one another. It is the dark of Time from which we come and to which we will return. VANNBRUGGHE. (Aside) What is this stuff about Time? (To Dyer) This is well said, but this Age of ours is quite new. The World was never more active or youthful than it is now, and all this Imitation of the past is but the Death's Head of Writing as it is of Architecture.

I would never admit to him how hard it was for me when he was gone—how it brought back the abandonment nightmares. If he knew that, it would make him feel horrible and he would be afraid to ever leave me, even for the most necessary reasons. It had been like that in the beginning, when he’d first returned from Italy. His golden eyes had turned black and he’d suffered from his thirst more than it was already necessary that he suffer. So I put on a brave face and all but kicked him out the door whenever Emmett and Jasper wanted to go.

Charity means pardoning what is unpardonable, or it is no virtue at all. Hope means hoping when things are hopeless, or it is no virtue at all. And faith means believing the incredible, or it is no virtue at all. It is somewhat amusing, indeed, to notice the difference between the fate of these three paradoxes in the fashion of the modern mind. Charity is a fashionable virtue in our time; it is lit up by the gigantic firelight of Dickens. Hope is a fashionable virtue to-day; our attention has been arrested for it by the sudden and silver trumpet of Stevenson. But faith is unfashionable, and it is customary on every side to cast against it the fact that it is a paradox. Everybody mockingly repeats the famous childish definition that faith is “the power of believing that which we know to be untrue.” Yet it is not one atom more paradoxical than hope or charity. Charity is the power of defending that which we know to be indefensible. Hope is the power of being cheerful in circumstances which we know to be desperate. It is true that there is a state of hope which belongs to bright prospects and the morning; but that is not the virtue of hope. The virtue of hope exists only in earthquake and, eclipse. It is true that there is a thing crudely called charity, which means charity to the deserving poor; but charity to the deserving is not charity at all, but justice. It is the undeserving who require it, and the ideal either does not exist at all, or exists wholly for them. For practical purposes it is at the hopeless moment that we require the hopeful man, and the virtue either does not exist at all, or begins to exist at that moment. Exactly at the instant when hope ceases to be reasonable it begins to be useful.

Like Real People Do” by Hozier as he worked and then he said, “Love you, Harleigh Rose, love you in a way that I know I’ll never stop doin’ it, just like I haven’t stopped doin’ it in one way or another since I met you. Some men want women that are all sugar and sweetness, dependable and staid, but I’ve always preferred the kind of woman that’s roses and thorns, strength and sass, that’s so wild at heart I never know what I’m going to get. You make me feel alive, Harleigh Rose, filled with a love and purpose so strong it eclipses any other reason I may have to love living.

When he was twenty-three years old, he (George Fox) saw the inner light in a vision. For him it symbolized the spirit against the letter, silence against chatter, experience against dogma, and equality against all who build inequality on authority and power, be it of the state or religion. His mistrust of the official Anglican Church was immense. He spoke with disdain of the "towered houses" and was tormented by the ringing of church bells. He frequently interrupted preachers, standing in the church's doorway, a hat covering his head, and uttering threatening words toward the pulpit, causing great excitement in the gathered congregation. It often resulted in Fox being beaten up, banished, and, later on, jailed for years. What aroused his ire, above all, were the priests who, without ever having experienced or even looked for illumination, presented themselves as servants of God but, in truth, comprised a "society of cannibals." It is "not enough to have been educated in Oxford or Cambridge in order to become capable for and efficient in the service of Christ. To this day it is difficult for many Friends to speak of "Quaker theology." The Friends believe in Scripture - George Fox knew it by heart - but they also believe that the Spirit transcends Scripture and that the inner light is experienced by all human beings without human mediation. "The inner light," "the inward teacher" are names that the early Quakers gave to their experiences of the Spirit. They believe that everyone can meet the "Christ within," even though he has different names in different ages and places and is not tied to any form of religion. This light is open to everyone and, yet, it is not simply the natural light of reason. In a conversation that Fox had with Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell, he vigorously resisted this rational interpretation. In every human being is "that of God," hidden, eclipsed, often forgotten. Linguistically a clumsy expression at best, "that of God in everyone" is the foundation of human dignity. In addition, it is the admonition to believe in it, to discover it in each and everyone and to respond to it. Fox said, "Walk joyfully on the earth and respond to that of God in every human being.

People are crazy. The values of the world are crazy. What does predatory free-market capitalism care about sanity and values? Capitalism will do anything for a profit. If madness sells – which it does – capitalism will not hesitate to pander to it. Reason, logic and mathematics don’t sell, so capitalism and mainstream culture avoid them like the plague. Reason and logic are the antidote to insanity, but they are the things most rejected by an insane culture. Catch-22. That’s why the Insanity Wars can end in only one way: Cataclysm. The Dumbocalypse is almost upon us. The Dumbageddon conspiracy is going into overdrive. But from the ashes of old humanity, new humanity shall arise like the phoenix. The dawn of the HyperHuman lies on the far side of the eclipse of the dunce.

Only art matters, for each work of art is eternal. Those who claim ownership of art are of little importance in the end, since no one can outlive it. Don’t you find that to be a delicious little slice of humility? One of the reasons I love and admire you so deeply is that you have never shown even the smallest amount of pride in having works of art within your possession. Like me, you have nothing but love and respect for art and art alone, so it is high time that you reap the rewards for all you have given. “In no way should you feel indebted to me, Hanna. You have been a source of light and joy in my life, not to mention an ample source of amusement, as I’ve always delighted in your many moods—the good and the bad, your uncontrollable laughter and your fits of rage alike. One could say I’ve led a charmed life. I’ve met scores of art dealers in my time, but none have ever measured up to you, my dear. From this point forward, I wish to have your name and your name only adorning our New York gallery. The pride I have in my pupil far eclipses how proud I am to have once been her teacher. May your life always be full of all the happiness and beauty that you deserve, my dearest Hanna. Yours sincerely, John Glover.

Hamilton wanted his central bank to be profitable enough to attract private investors while serving the public interest. He knew the composition of its board would be an inflammatory issue. Directors would consist of a “small and select class of men.” To prevent an abuse of trust, Hamilton suggested mandatory rotation. “The necessary secrecy” of directors’ transactions will give “unlimited scope to imagination to infer that something is or may be wrong. And this inevitable mystery is a solid reason for inserting in the constitution of a Bank the necessity of a change of men.”17 But who would direct this mysterious bastion of money? Its ten million dollars in capital would be several times larger than the combined capital of all existing banks, eclipsing anything ever seen in America. Hamilton, wanting the bank to remain predominantly in private hands, advanced a theory that became a truism of central banking—that monetary policy was so liable to abuse that it needed some insulation from interfering politicians: “To attach full confidence to an institution of this nature, it appears to be an essential ingredient in its structure that it shall be under a private not a public direction, under the guidance of individual interest, not of public policy.”18

We do a thing in America, which is to label people “workaholics” and tell them that work is ruining their lives. It’s such a widespread opinion that it seems like the premise to every indie movie is “Workaholic mom comes home to find that her entire family hates her. It’s not until she cuts back on work, smokes a little pot, and takes up ballroom dancing classes with her neglected husband that she realizes what is truly important in life. Not work.” Working parents have now eclipsed shady Russian-esque operatives as America’s most popular choice of movie villain. And to some degree, I understand why the trope exists. It probably resonates because most people in this country hate their jobs. The economies of entire countries like Turks and Caicos are banking on US citizens hating their jobs and wanting to get away from it all. And I understand that. But it’s a confusing message for kids. The reason I’m bringing this up is not to defend my status as someone who always works. (I swear I’m not that Tiger Mom lady! I don’t think you need to play piano for eleven hours with no meals! Or only watch historical movies, then write reports on them for me to read and grade!) It’s just that, the truth is, I have never, ever, ever met a highly confident and successful person who is not what a movie would call a “workaholic.” We can’t have it both ways, and children should know that. Because confidence is like respect; you have to earn it.

The Scientific Revolution was revolutionary in a way that is hard to appreciate today, now that its discoveries have become second nature to most of us. The historian David Wootton reminds us of the understanding of an educated Englishman on the eve of the Revolution in 1600: He believes witches can summon up storms that sink ships at sea. . . . He believes in werewolves, although there happen not to be any in England—he knows they are to be found in Belgium. . . . He believes Circe really did turn Odysseus’s crew into pigs. He believes mice are spontaneously generated in piles of straw. He believes in contemporary magicians. . . . He has seen a unicorn’s horn, but not a unicorn. He believes that a murdered body will bleed in the presence of the murderer. He believes that there is an ointment which, if rubbed on a dagger which has caused a wound, will cure the wound. He believes that the shape, colour and texture of a plant can be a clue to how it will work as a medicine because God designed nature to be interpreted by mankind. He believes that it is possible to turn base metal into gold, although he doubts that anyone knows how to do it. He believes that nature abhors a vacuum. He believes the rainbow is a sign from God and that comets portend evil. He believes that dreams predict the future, if we know how to interpret them. He believes, of course, that the earth stands still and the sun and stars turn around the earth once every twenty-four hours.7 A century and a third later, an educated descendant of this Englishman would believe none of these things. It was an escape not just from ignorance but from terror. The sociologist Robert Scott notes that in the Middle Ages “the belief that an external force controlled daily life contributed to a kind of collective paranoia”: Rainstorms, thunder, lightning, wind gusts, solar or lunar eclipses, cold snaps, heat waves, dry spells, and earthquakes alike were considered signs and signals of God’s displeasure. As a result, the “hobgoblins of fear” inhabited every realm of life. The sea became a satanic realm, and forests were populated with beasts of prey, ogres, witches, demons, and very real thieves and cutthroats. . . . After dark, too, the world was filled with omens portending dangers of every sort: comets, meteors, shooting stars, lunar eclipses, the howls of wild animals.8 To the Enlightenment thinkers the escape from ignorance and superstition showed how mistaken our conventional wisdom could be, and how the methods of science—skepticism, fallibilism, open debate, and empirical testing—are a paradigm of how to achieve reliable knowledge. That knowledge includes an understanding of ourselves.

I will give you NOTHING! Shall I tell you what I believe, Thagus?...I believe you are likewise trapped in the storm. I believe the Warp aided your pursuit of us, then cut you adrift in our wake, leaving you becalmed and with no idea why. I believe that the malignant essences we call Gods have brought us together in the heart of this storm to play out a game of kings and pawns, just to see where their favour should fall...I believe, most of all, that you are frightened of us. You fear us because despite your raving speeches that we are betraying the Legions, and despite your petty crusades to destroy us, we not only survive, but THRIVE. We grow with every conflict. The icons of the failed Legions are sheared from ever more suits of armour, and the colours of shame are eclipsed in numbers no other warband can match. You fear that we are right and you are wrong. You fear us, more than any other reason, because you had to chase us. Because we were here first. Because we are the ones on the verge of breaking free, despite all your attempts in these last decades to hinder us. We have been working towards this fate, while you have done nothing but seek to stop us. We've fought for true unity, all brothers beneath the black banner, while you've fought against it in the guise of preserving the old, failed ways. We, Thagus, have acted. You have reacted. And here we stand at our prison's edge. Even now you have no answers to give your men. Instead, you force this meeting with us, praying you can glean insight into our plans and scavenge victory through threats. You'll lose this war, Thagus. You'll lose because you desire the Gods' favour and you fear it falling upon anyone else.

Only with her - PART I Dealing with estranged feelings and the heart’s missing heart beats, Feels like a world that its horizon never meets, It maybe what one experiences in the moment of continuous disbelief, Because without her the mind finds no solace and the heart fails to play the symphonies of relief, As the estrangement grows and the feeling deepens in those prolonged spells of darkness, The night grows over the mind eclipsing its every thought with a slight crassness, Where it feels abandoned by the heart, because it seems to beat only for those estranged feelings, And ah the herculean effort for the mind to nurture the heart’s darling seedlings, From where the heart grows reasons to keep throbbing, and every flexing of muscle seems to be a harbinger of new emotional outage, And it somehow always convinces the mind not to let her feelings be cast into scrappage, The heart, the poor beating heart, suffers from this expensive essentialism, To sustain her estranged feelings in its love chambers and in the mind’s thoughts, despite their widening chasm, But the heart loves her unconditionally, and the mind too finally gives in to the heart’s will voluntarily, And now the heart beats for her softly as the mind once again begins to think of her so lovingly, Now both the mind and the heart deal with a different reality, That of establishing her memories, her feelings as the principal deity, But who shall hold her entirely? Because the heart loves her deeply and now the mind too loves her no less, And in their strife; I, who owns them both, has to deal with a new kind of stress, And I only care less, because in their desire to love her forever, the heart will beat endlessly and the mind will think of her ceaselessly, While I collate the extract of their feelings about her, and I live everyday in her thoughts fearlessly, And the mystery grows deeper, that who loves who, they love her, I love her too, and they know, But without them I cannot love her, and without me they cannot exist, this is a reality we all know, However, the desire to love someone so beautiful has made them my foe, and my willingness to keep living for her, Has encouraged them to exploit my weakness, that to always live loving her, As long as the heart beats, the mind doesn't mind, and as long as my mind only her thoughts creates, I too do not mind, Living in a body, where my own heart only beats for her, my mind only thinks about her, while I am busy living for her with feelings well defined, CONTINUED IN PART II.........

Only with her - PART I Dealing with estranged feelings and the heart’s missing heart beats, Feels like a world that its horizon never meets, It maybe what one experiences in the moment of continuous disbelief, Because without her the mind finds no solace and the heart fails to play the symphonies of relief, As the estrangement grows and the feeling deepens in those prolonged spells of darkness, The night grows over the mind eclipsing its every thought with a slight crassness, Where it feels abandoned by the heart, because it seems to beat only for those estranged feelings, And ah the herculean effort for the mind to nurture the heart’s darling seedlings, From where the heart grows reasons to keep throbbing, and every flexing of muscle seems to be a harbinger of new suffrage, And it somehow always convinces the mind not to let her feelings be cast into scrappage, The heart, the poor beating heart, suffers from this expensive essentialism, To sustain her estranged feelings in its love chambers and in the mind’s thoughts, despite their widening chasm, But the heart loves her unconditionally, and the mind too finally gives in to the heart’s will voluntarily, And now the heart beats for her softly as the mind once again begins to think of her so lovingly, Now both the mind and the heart deal with a different reality, That of establishing her memories, her feelings as the principal deity, But who shall hold her entirely? Because the heart loves her deeply and now the mind too loves her no less, And in their strife; I, who owns them both, has to deal with a new kind of stress, And I only care less, because in their desire to love her forever, the heart will beat endlessly and the mind will think of her ceaselessly, While I collate the extract of their feelings about her, and I live everyday in her thoughts fearlessly, And the mystery grows deeper, that who loves who, they love her, I love her too, and they know, But without them I cannot love her, and without me they cannot exist, this is a reality we all know, However, the desire to love someone so beautiful has made them my foe, and my willingness to keep living for her, Has encouraged them to exploit my weakness, that to always live loving her, As long as the heart beats, the mind doesn't mind, and as long as my mind only her thoughts creates, I too do not mind, Living in a body, where my own heart only beats for her, my mind only thinks about her, while I am busy living for her with feelings well defined, Continued in part II........

D’Holbach deplored violence and was extremely wary of the concept of “a people’s revolution.” He feared that logic and reason of the most oppressed citizens would be eclipsed by “‘charlatans’ . . . promising to end the people’s misery while, in reality, exploiting men’s naïveté and ‘superstition’ to forge a fresh tyranny ever crueler and more ‘superstitious’ than that they rebelled against.

Rather, the narrative the Powers-That-Be in these various institutions sell to those they’re charged with informing, educating, enlightening and entertaining must always serve the purposes of The Supremacy. New York Times opinion writer Bret Stephens tip-toed (for obvious reasons) around this fact in a piece now seemingly expunged from the Internet: A historian searching for clues about the origins of many of the great stories of recent decades – the collapse of the Soviet empire; the rise of Osama bin Laden; the declining US crime rate; the economic eclipse of Japan and Germany – would find most contemporary journalism useless.

For this reason was He both born and manifested as Man, for this He died and rose, in order that, eclipsing by His works all other human deeds, He might recall men from all the paths of error to know the Father.

Paradoxically, a society that, in the face of starvation in great areas of the world, allows a large part of its machinery to stand idle, that shelves many important inventions, and that devotes innumerable working hours to moronic advertising and to the production of instruments of destruction—a society in which these luxuries are inherent has made usefulness its gospel.

he had been much occupied with one question; why almost all crimes are so badly concealed and so easily detected, and why almost all criminals leave such obvious traces? He had come gradually to many different and curious conclusions, and in his opinion the chief reason lay not so much in the material impossibility of concealing the crime, as in the criminal himself. Almost every criminal is subject to a failure of will and reasoning power by a childish and phenomenal heedlessness, at the very instant when prudence and caution are most essential. It was his conviction that this eclipse of reason and failure of will power attacked a man like a disease, developed gradually and reached its highest point just before the perpetration of the crime, continued with equal violence at the moment of the crime and for longer or shorter time after, according to the individual case, and then passed off like any other disease. The question whether the disease gives rise to the crime, or whether the crime from its own peculiar nature is always accompanied by something of the nature of disease, he did not yet feel able to decide.

When it is a question of abuses in political institutions, it is necessary to take great care to judge of them only by their constant effects, and never by any of their causes, of whatever kind, which signify nothing still less by certain collateral inconveniences (if I may so express myself ) which men of limited views readily lay hold of, and are thus prevented from seeing the whole together. Indeed, the cause, according to the hypothesis which seems to be proved, not having any logical relation to the effect; and the inconveniences of an institution, good in itself, being only, as I have just said, an inevitable dissonance in the general key; how can we judge of institutions by their causes and inconveniences?—Voltaire, who spoke of every thing, during an age, without having so much as penetrated below the surface, has reasoned very humorously on the sale of the offices of the magistracy which occurred in France; and no instance, perhaps, could be more apposite to make us sensible of the truth of the theory which I am setting forth. That this sale is an abuse, says he, is proved by the fact, that it originated in another abuse. Voltaire does not mistake here as every man is liable to mistake. He shamefully mistakes. It is a total eclipse of common sense. Everything which springs from an abuse, an abuse! On the contrary; one of the most general and evident laws of this power, at once secret and striking, which acts and makes itself to be felt on every side, is, that the remedy of an abuse springs from an abuse, and that the evil, having reached a certain point, destroys itself, as it ought to do; for evil, which is only a negation, has, for measure of dimension and duration, that of the being to which it is joined, and which it destroys. It exists as an ulcer, which can only terminate in self-destruction. But then a new reality will necessarily occupy the place of that which has disappeared; for nature abhors a vacuum, and the Good. But I diverge too far from Voltaire.

​There were the popular kids. They were the ones who were really in charge. Nobody bothered to question their authority or even ask why they were the popular ones in the first place. But they commanded the most respect and they set the standards for everyone else–the popular and preferred fashions, the jokes that were or were not funny, and who was and was not weird (no discernible, consistent logic or reasoning applied, especially to the latter). They were the cruel ones.

Every high school civics class sings praise to the system of checks and balances within the American governmental structure—each branch holding power to check the others so that no one branch can wield too much—but there is little discussion of the need for checks and balances of external power centers. The awesome power of the corporate sector, which was nonexistent at the founding of the nation but today carries resources and influence that totally eclipse the voice of ordinary people, needs counterbalancing. This notion is not socialist, nor is it an offense to freedom; it is simply a pragmatic, commonsense response to obvious realities.

In the series of great offensive pressures which Joffre delivered during the whole of the spring and autumn of 1915, the French suffered nearly 1,300,000 casualties. They inflicted upon the Germans in the same period and the same operations 506,000 casualties. They gained no territory worth mentioning, and no strategic advantages of any kind. This was the worst year of the Joffre régime. Gross as were the mistakes of the Battle of the Frontiers, glaring as had been the errors of the First Shock, they were eclipsed by the insensate obstinacy and lack of comprehension which, without any large numerical superiority, without adequate artillery or munitions, without any novel mechanical method, without any pretence of surprise or manœuvre, without any reasonable hope of victory, continued to hurl the heroic but limited manhood of France at the strongest entrenchments, at uncut wire and innumerable machine guns served with cold skill. The responsibilities of this lamentable phase must be shared in a subordinate degree by Foch, who under Joffre’s orders, but as an ardent believer, conducted the prolonged Spring offensive in Artois, the most sterile and prodigal of all.

It is called a holiday for a reason, Jews. Holi-“day,” singular, as in one day. You don’t see the Christians celebrating Christmas for more than one day. You don’t see them playing Christmas music nonstop for two months, or putting up lights in November that are so bright the neighborhood children can only look at them through a slit in a shoebox like it’s a fucking solar eclipse.

Now it was brisk and didactic, like that of an obedience instructor training an obstinant dog, and I hated him for it, the hate momentarily eclipsing all fear and reason.

The very idea of truth has been reduced to the purpose of a useful tool in the control of nature, and the realization of the infinite potentialities inherent in man has been relegated to the status of a luxury. Thought that does not serve the interests of any established group or is not pertinent to the business of any industry has no place, is considered vain or superfluous.

At first—long before indeed—he had been much occupied with one question; why almost all crimes are so badly concealed and so easily detected, and why almost all criminas leave such obvious traces? He had come gradually to many different and curious conclusions, and in his opinion the chief reason lay not so much in the material impossibility of concealing the crime, as in the criminal himself. Almost every criminal is subject to a failure of will and reasoning power by a childish and phenomenal heedlessness, at the very instant when prudence and caution are most essential. It was his conviction that this eclipse of reason and failure of will power attacked a man like a disease, developed gradually and reached its highest point just before the perpetuation of the crime, continued with equal violence at the moment of the crime and for longer or shorter time after, according to the individual case, and then passed off like any other disease. The question whether the disrase gives rise to the crime, or whether the crime from its own peculiar nature is always accompanied by something of the nature of the disease, he did not yet feel able to decide.

The Treasury Department’s inspector general scrutinized the trip because it was planned for August 21, 2018, the day of the total solar eclipse, and Ft. Knox happened to be in the path of totality. Ft. Knox is home to the government’s largest gold stockpile, which Mnuchin said was the reason for the trip. The inspector general conducted

One day in discussing the question of submission to the authority of the Spiritual Assemblies Shoghi Effendi said: ‘The Master has not left any latitude for personal opinion, it is not a matter of reason, it is a matter of faith. ‘Some of the instructions and commands may seem unreasonable, but if we believe we have faith in them and the sign of faith is obedience. The whole question resolves itself into a matter of faith and obedience is the proof of faith, it is the result of faith, if we do not obey it is because we have not faith in the commands of the Master. ‘I cannot see it in any other way. ‘When a certain believer was here the question was put to the Master very plainly; supposing that in a Convention the will of the majority, the decision of the majority is against my individual conscience, suppose that my conscience cannot agree with their decision, must I submit my conscience to the will of the majority? ... ‘The Master answered that the individual conscience must yield to the majority. He left no room for doubt on this point. He not only gave the command, but He explained the reason for it. He said that if each one followed his own conscience there would be no result, confusion would reign as no two consciences agree, therefore we must follow the will of the majority.’ The energy of our Guardian is inexhaustible, and as he retires at one or two o’clock in the morning, his working day is very long. His strength and vigour never flag, the stress of work, the magnitude of the complex problems pouring in daily in voluminous mail from every corner of the earth seem to serve to renew his forces, the progress of the Cause is reflected in his joy, his buoyancy, his eager enthusiasm and absorbed interest. But when the welfare or progress of the Cause is menaced through the lack of love and harmony among the believers in any part of the world, when this sad news reaches him, his divine happiness suffers eclipse, his strength ebbs away ...[191

Davai, come on!” Dmitry grumbled impatiently as his gaze drifted toward the inviting dinner on his plate: a delectable dish of Sibirskiye Pelmeni. These impeccably crafted Siberian-style meat dumplings, topped with a dollop of rich sour cream, looked as though they’d been plucked right out of a foodie’s well-curated Instagram feed. However, the promise of their rich flavor had been momentarily eclipsed by the drama of the recalcitrant television—an antiquity that usually served as Dmitry’s trusty portal to the world but today, for some reason, obstinately refused to fulfill its duties.

According to this perspective, once skills become automatized, thinking about the declarative knowledge while trying to perform the skill actually disrupts the smooth performance of it. Think, for example, of trying to drive a car or skate while intentionally thinking about and preparing every move. With enough practice, procedural knowledge eclipses the declarative knowledge, which, in time, may be forgotten. For this reason, fluent speakers may not even realize that they once possessed the declarative knowledge that set the process in motion.

Miss Sydney-" "Sir Ross," she interrupted, standing and bracing her hands on his desk. Her high-necked dress revealed nothing as she leaned toward him. However, if she had been wearing a low décolletage, her breasts would have been presented to him like two succulent apples on a tray. Stimulated unbearably by the thought, Ross forced himself to focus on her face. Her lips curled in a faint smile. "You have nothing to lose by letting me try," she pointed out. "Give me a month to prove my worth." Ross stared at her intently. There was something manufactured about her display of charm. She was trying to manipulate him into giving her something she wanted- and she was succeeding. But why in God's name did she want to work for him? He realized suddenly that he could not let her go without discovering her motives. "If I fail to please you," she added, "you can always hire someone else." Ross was known for being a supremely rational man. It would be impractical for him to hire this woman. Stupid, even. He knew exactly what the others at Bow Street would make of it. They would assume that he had hired her because of her sexual appeal. The uncomfortable truth was, they would be right. It had been a long time since he had been so strongly attracted to a woman. He wanted to keep her here, to enjoy her beauty and intelligence, and to discover if she returned his interest. His mind weighed the scruples of such a decision, but his thoughts were eclipsed by male urges that refused to be quelled. And for the first time in his magisterial career, he ignored reason in favor of desire.

It is sometimes said that the American Founding, as an expression of modern (notably Lockean) political philosophy, lowers the ends of human life in order to make them more easily attainable. For Americans, comfortable self-preservation, implemented by free-market economics and the scientific enhancement of man's productive powers, replaces eternal salvation or contemplation as the end of man. Whatever may be true of the thought of John Locke, this is not the way in which the American Founding understood itself. The American Founding limited the ends of government. It did not limit the ends of man. The ends of the regime, considered as ends of government, were lowered. But the ends both of reason and revelation served by the regime, in and through the limitations on government, were understood to enhance, not to diminish, the intrinsic possibility of human excellence. As long as the idea of human excellence itself survived, as understood by the great tradition of Western civilization—the civilization of the Bible and of classical philosophy—the dignity of the American Founding remained that of man's highest ends. It is the outright denial—within the very citadels of learning, the universities—of the dignity of reason and of revelation that threatens the eclipse of the American Founding, and therewith of Western civilization itself.

Of all the tragedies wrought by this collective amnesia in economics, the greatest loss to the world is the eclipse of the “Austrian School.” Founded in the 1870s and 1880s, and still barely alive, the Austrian School has had to suffer far more neglect than the other schools of economics for a variety of powerful reasons. First, of course, it was founded a century ago, which, in the current scientific age, is in itself suspicious. Second, the Austrian School has from the beginning been self-consciously philosophic rather than “scientistic”; far more concerned with methodology and epistemology than other modern economists, the Austrians arrived early at a principled opposition to the use of mathematics or of statistical “testing” in economic theory. By doing so, they set themselves in opposition to all the positivistic, natural-science-imitating trends of this century. It meant, furthermore, that Austrians continued to write fundamental treatises while other economists were setting their sights on narrow, mathematically oriented articles. And third, by stressing the individual and his choices, both methodologically and politically, Austrians were setting themselves against the holism and statism of this century as well.

The soul and mind are intrinsically connected; the soul transforms a portion of itself into the mind, the spiritual mind and other levels of reality. The soul uses the mind, to experience this realm, and becomes identified with it to create the ego. The souls bliss is always pure, and can never be touched by the negativity of the world it inhabits. It is our minds, it is our egos which have to be refined and purified in order for us to experience the ever new bliss of the soul. Our souls are already enlightened, that is why there is nothing really to gain or attain. We are already whole (holy), we just don't know it yet. We have so many negative beliefs eclipsing our divinity that we forget our true nature. Notice how I say eclipses? What is an eclipse? It is when the Moon covers up the great celestial light of our Sun for a short period of time. Similarly, the moon of the negative beliefs in the unconscious covers up the celestial light of our soul. But the light has never gone, it is still shining brightly, we just cant see it. Remove the moon of those limiting beliefs in order to perceive the bliss and light of your soul! Life is all about self-discovery. We have imposed this forgetfulness on ourselves for a reason, and it is all well and good in the grand scheme of things. When we do experience our awesomeness after so many years of limitation and negativity it makes it all worth it. The soul is unconditional love itself, and when you discover this within the very depth of your heart, ye shall know what God truly is

Men had turned from the contemplation of God above, and were looking for Him in the opposite direction, down among created things and things of sense. The Savior of us all, the Word of God, in His great love took to Himself a body and moved as Man among men, meeting their senses, so to speak, half way. He became Himself an object for the senses, so that those who were seeking God in sensible things might apprehend the Father through the works which He, the Word of God, did in the body. Human and human minded as men were, therefore, to whichever side they looked in the sensible world they found themselves taught the truth. Were they awe-stricken by creation? They beheld it confessing Christ as Lord. Did their minds tend to regard men as Gods? The uniqueness of the Savior’s works marked Him, alone of men, as Son of God. Were they drawn to evil spirits? They saw them driven out by the Lord and learned that the Word of God alone was God and that the evil spirits were not gods at all. Were they inclined to heroworship and the cult of the dead? Then the fact that the Savior had risen from the dead showed them how false these other deities were, and that the Word of the Father is the one true Lord, the Lord even of death. For this reason was He both born and manifested as Man, for this He died and rose, in order that, eclipsing by His works all other human deeds, He might recall men from all the paths of error to know the Father. As He says Himself, “I came to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10).

...it was only natural that this mutual connection between sea and observer be forged: they were kindred spirits. The same, however, could not be done with the implacable moon: that imperious stalwart, which agitated the currents and spurned its beholder. This aloof satellite was formidable, yet neurotic, and so in spite of its ferocity, its movements were simple to predict, thereby granting this fearsome creature a veil of placidity. Its magnitude of torque was easily outmatched by that forceful heave of fear portending any misalignment with its anticipated schedule of phases. It cycled through these on time and without hesitation, experiencing, all the while, a wide array of emotions in response to the dissatisfied countenance of the Master it served. And yet, these changes in mood remained prosaic and careful, dutiful to its Patron; thusly, betraying nothing of its own resentments or intentionality either to its dismissed observer or to its demanding Patron, divulging nothing even of the influence which it potentially wielded over the Patron Planet, but which, in its lunar insecurity, never reached full expression save for the idle touslings of liquid fur. Perhaps it was diffident or bashful—otherwise, it was simple and had little prevailing ambition. Its motives were immaterial, in fact, for its aspirations were easily eclipsed and often countermanded and so one could not help but anticipate in its withered mien a certain resignation, a retreat to introspection away from the gazes of those who mistook its surrender to deterministic forces as a duty held most solemn. To be sure, it was a specter oft-romanticized by dullard poets and priests who admired it for its calming reserve, its gentle wisdom in juxtaposition with the histrionic impatience of the sea: like a tired guardian and a screaming toddler with primacy afforded counterintuitively to the guardian. What mattered more, in fact, was the subject of its influence: the willful and disobedient medium which spurned that hands that molded it. The moldings were more like jostles really and for a time they felt just and reasonable, but soon they came to confine and until verily there was no movement available that was not otherwise preordained by the will of the master. The accursed moon!

Two most important days in your life eclipsed. What do you mean? Celebrating the day you were born on and disinterring the reason for it. It's pathetic, I'm just a pawn on my mother's chessboard. Nevertheless necessary, for her.

In the society that we live in, we don't hear what people have to say. We don't try to understand the motive or the reason that pushed the people to do that deed instead we judge. I am tired of that, Parker. I am tired of us judging people when they are at their lowest. It only triggers them to become even more violent and uncontrollable.

There is nothing more vindicating than the ability to find the strength necessary to turn the worst experience imaginable into something so beautiful, it eclipses all the ugliness. It helps to find reason, to find purpose, in something so senseless.

That nosebleed of yours means something. It means that I want you really badly. When I first met you, you didn’t get any nosebleeds because even though I wanted you, it wasn’t to the degree that I want you now.” His lips lifted into a doting smile. “Perhaps it’s because you’ve become my forbidden fruit. My desire for you grows with every passing day. That alone is reason enough for me to still be here, pursuing you as opposed to going after some other human girl. I only want you, Gracie.

How Do I Call Expedia to Book an Astronomy Tour Package? ☎️+1-888-217-6907 If you’ve ever dreamed of stargazing in pristine skies, booking an astronomy tour package through Expedia is the perfect choice. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 By calling their knowledgeable representatives, you gain access to curated travel experiences that blend comfort with unforgettable cosmic adventures. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Whether it’s desert observatories or mountain-top viewing decks, Expedia ensures your astronomy trip is perfectly planned. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 When you call Expedia, you’re immediately connected with travel experts who specialize in astronomy-focused vacation packages. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 These agents understand which destinations offer the clearest night skies, the best observatories, and guided tours by seasoned astronomers. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 This personalized advice means your trip goes far beyond a standard vacation. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 The benefit of calling rather than browsing online is gaining insider details often overlooked on websites. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Expedia agents can confirm telescope access, private observatory tours, or even special events like meteor shower viewing nights. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 This ensures your astronomy package matches your exact cosmic expectations. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Families calling Expedia for astronomy packages will appreciate how agents design trips that excite both adults and children. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Options may include kid-friendly stargazing workshops, planetarium visits, or guided hikes under dazzling night skies. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 These thoughtful inclusions make the journey engaging for everyone. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Couples planning romantic astronomy getaways also benefit from Expedia’s phone service for astronomy tours. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Advisors can recommend secluded desert lodges, mountain chalets, or island resorts where the night sky provides magical backdrops. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 These experiences transform your trip into both romance and discovery. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Group travelers or astronomy clubs will find Expedia’s support invaluable when booking larger packages. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Agents can secure blocks of rooms near observatories or arrange private group tours with professional astronomers. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 This coordination ensures a smooth, unforgettable group experience. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Astronomy events like eclipses, meteor showers, or planetary alignments attract huge demand for travel accommodations. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Calling Expedia early ensures your spot at hotels near prime viewing locations before they sell out. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 This proactive booking approach guarantees your front-row seat to cosmic wonders. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Another reason to call Expedia is the exclusive phone-only deals that may include discounts or complimentary add-ons. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 These can range from extra nights at a hotel to guided astronomy hikes bundled into your package. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 These perks elevate your astronomy tour without extra cost. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 If unexpected changes arise, Expedia’s phone agents make rebooking simple, so your astronomy adventure remains uninterrupted. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Weather or flight delays won’t ruin your trip because representatives adjust your plans accordingly. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 This flexibility adds peace of mind during celestial travel. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 For those seeking luxury, calling Expedia unlocks astronomy packages featuring five-star resorts paired with observatory access. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Think infinity pools under starry skies or private dinners beneath meteor showers. ☎️+1-888-217-6907 Such enhancements make your astronomy experience extraordinary and indulgent.

Yet perhaps the whole cause of this violent break in a man from whom it was not in the least to be expected, was a mournful desire for an abrupt display of personality, a longing to be his own self, a wish to declare himself and his own lowly personality, appearing suddenly and developing into fury, insanity, the eclipse of reason, paroxysm, and convulsion. So, perhaps, one buried alive and awakening in his coffin, hammers on its lid and struggles to wrest it off, although, of course, reason might persuade him that all his efforts are vain.

As humans, we are not defined by the roads chosen for us, but by the roads we choose for ourselves. You cannot control your past, but you can control your future. Although our destinies may be preordained, God gave us freewill for a reason. Perhaps not everything is always set in stone.

Thinking About “Buy Verified Binance Accounts”? Read This First — Risks, Legal Consequences, and Safe Alternatives If you’ve seen ads or listings promising you can Buy Verified Binance Accounts, stop and read this. At first glance, the idea of obtaining an already-verified Binance account may look like a shortcut to higher trading limits, faster withdrawals, or instant access to advanced features. But purchasing verified exchange accounts is extremely risky, often illegal, and almost always a false economy. This article explains the dangers, the real legal and security consequences, and the legitimate ways to access verified services on Binance without exposing yourself to fraud or criminal liability. If you face any problem you can contact us. we are online 24/7 hours ➤ WhatsApp: +1 (512) 980-4239 ➤ Telegram: @Pvashopusa Why people are tempted to “Buy Verified Binance Accounts” There are a few common reasons people search for ways to Buy Verified Binance Accounts: They want immediate access to higher withdrawal or fiat on-ramp limits. They need multiple verified accounts for trading strategies, bots, or testing. They want to obscure identity or avoid providing KYC documents. Those objectives might sound practical, but the short-term gains are eclipsed by serious long-term risks. Legal and compliance red flags Buying a verified account for an exchange like Binance is not a harmless transaction — it usually violates laws and terms of service: Identity fraud and theft: Verified accounts are linked to real identities. If an account was verified using someone else’s documents or stolen information, buying or using it can implicate you in identity theft or possession of stolen identification. Terms of service breach: Binance’s user agreement (like those of all regulated exchanges) prohibits account transfer and use of accounts by anyone other than the original verified owner. Using a purchased account risks immediate suspension, frozen assets, and permanent bans. If you face any problem you can contact us. we are online 24/7 hours ➤ WhatsApp: +1 (512) 980-4239 ➤ Telegram: @Pvashopusa AML (anti-money-laundering) exposure: Exchanges monitor for money-laundering patterns. Using accounts you didn’t legitimately open can attract regulatory scrutiny and could result in investigations by law enforcement. Criminal marketplace ties: Sellers offering verified accounts often operate in illicit marketplaces. Engaging those sellers can expose you to fraud, extortion, or being co-opted into broader criminal schemes. Security hazards — the account is rarely ‘yours’ Even if a seller claims an account is “clean,” you face hidden dangers: Retained access by seller: Sellers frequently keep recovery emails, device links, or backdoor access and can later reclaim the account or drain funds. Pre-existing flags or blacklisting: An account previously used for scams or suspicious activity may already be flagged, making withdrawals impossible or leading to immediate freezes. Scams and phishing: Many “for sale” listings are scams that take payment and deliver nothing — or use the transaction to collect personal data from buyers for future exploitation. If you face any problem you can contact us. we are online 24/7 hours ➤ WhatsApp: +1 (512) 980-4239 ➤ Telegram: @Pvashopusa