Evan Williams Quotes

We become post-apocalyptic when we accept the present as rubbish, as undead, and as under attack.

Another world is necessary, but only built from the gutted hull of this one.

You're stunning," I whisper. I take a step towards her and pull her into my arms. "And you're all mine.

It was probably indecent to think of a corpse as impotent. But he was, very likely. That would be why his wife had taken up with the prize-fighter Red Evans Williams of Castell Goch.

He leans back casually in his chair as I watch the corner of his mouth pull up just a fraction. "And what sort of conversation is it that you think you've missed?" I take a deep breath and put the DVD's onto the floor. "The one about us.

My wife is shaped like I married a man, not a memorial. Not a headline. Not another Facebook movement. She is shaped like don’t you dare. Don’t you dare bleed out in some car they don’t think you deserve. Or on some asphalt so hungry for your bones. My wife is shaped like you make it home. You make it home.

these are residues of a dream world that form a historical border to the next era,

Life's too short to wait to read.

Tennessee Williams: ‘Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quick you hardly catch it going.

He reaches out quickly and tucks my hair behind my ear. I freeze at his touch and the feeling his fingers have left across my cheek. "Sorry, I just wanted to see your face." I pull back shyly. "And why would you want to do that?" He sits up and looks me dead in the eye. The air around us suddenly feels warm, making me shiver as the temperature around my skin changes. "Because you're beautiful.

later learned that the aircraft carrying Lieutenant Thomas Meehan, 1st Sergeant William Evans, and most of the headquarters element, flew steadily onward, and then did a slow wingover to the right. The plane’s landing lights came on as it approached the ground. It appeared they were going to make it, but the aircraft hit a hedgerow and exploded, instantly killing everyone on board. If I survived the jump, I would be the company commander.

With the best of intentions, the generation before mine worked diligently to prepare their children to make an intelligent case for Christianity. We were constantly reminded of the superiority of our own worldview and the shortcomings of all others. We learned that as Christians, we alone had access to absolute truth and could win any argument. The appropriate Bible verses were picked out for us, the opposing positions summarized for us, and the best responses articulated for us, so that we wouldn’t have to struggle through two thousand years of theological deliberations and debates but could get right to the bottom line on the important stuff: the deity of Christ, the nature of the Trinity, the role and interpretation of Scripture, and the fundamentals of Christianity. As a result, many of us entered the world with both an unparalleled level of conviction and a crippling lack of curiosity. So ready with the answers, we didn’t know what the questions were anymore. So prepared to defend the faith, we missed the thrill of discovering it for ourselves. So convinced we had God right, it never occurred to us that we might be wrong. In short, we never learned to doubt. Doubt is a difficult animal to master because it requires that we learn the difference between doubting God and doubting what we believe about God. The former has the potential to destroy faith; the latter has the power to enrich and refine it. The former is a vice; the latter a virtue. Where would we be if the apostle Peter had not doubted the necessity of food laws, or if Martin Luther had not doubted the notion that salvation can be purchased? What if Galileo had simply accepted church-instituted cosmology paradigms, or William Wilberforce the condition of slavery? We do an injustice to the intricacies and shadings of Christian history when we gloss over the struggles, when we read Paul’s epistles or Saint Augustine’s Confessions without acknowledging the difficult questions that these believers asked and the agony with which they often asked them. If I’ve learned anything over the past five years, it’s that doubt is the mechanism by which faith evolves. It helps us cast off false fundamentals so that we can recover what has been lost or embrace what is new. It is a refining fire, a hot flame that keeps our faith alive and moving and bubbling about, where certainty would only freeze it on the spot. I would argue that healthy doubt (questioning one’s beliefs) is perhaps the best defense against unhealthy doubt (questioning God). When we know how to make a distinction between our ideas about God and God himself, our faith remains safe when one of those ideas is seriously challenged. When we recognize that our theology is not the moon but rather a finger pointing at the moon, we enjoy the freedom of questioning it from time to time. We can say, as Tennyson said, Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of thee, And thou, O Lord, art more than they.15 I sometimes wonder if I might have spent fewer nights in angry, resentful prayer if only I’d known that my little systems — my theology, my presuppositions, my beliefs, even my fundamentals — were but broken lights of a holy, transcendent God. I wish I had known to question them, not him. What my generation is learning the hard way is that faith is not about defending conquered ground but about discovering new territory. Faith isn’t about being right, or settling down, or refusing to change. Faith is a journey, and every generation contributes its own sketches to the map. I’ve got miles and miles to go on this journey, but I think I can see Jesus up ahead.

McGrath briefly notes Bertrand Russell's Why I am not a Christian, and J. J. C. Smart gets a single mention, as does Adolf Grünbaum, but the other major defenders of philosophical atheism of the last half-century do not even merit a nod. His index contains no listings for Antony Flew, Wallace Matson, Kai Nielsen, Richard Gale, William L. Rowe, Michael Martin, J. L. Mackie, Daniel Dennett, Evan Fales, Michael Tooley, Quentin Smith, Jordan Howard Sobel, Robin Le Poidevin, Theodore Drange, Walter Sinnott-Armstrong, Nicholas Everitt, J. L. Schellenberg, or Graham Oppy.

The inquest proceeded smoothly, evidence showing that Cork had acted reasonably. But the county attorney, Warren Evans, who was a crony of Robert Parrant, asked Cork a question that tilted the whole world of the inquest. “Why did you shoot six times, Sheriff? Shoot even after the man was down?

A true anecdote which illustrates his unworldly nature is of the instruction he received in 1922 to appear at Buckingham Palace to receive the accolade of the Order of Knighthood; Bayliss replied that as the date coincided with that of a meeting of the Physiological Society, he would be unable to attend.

Zerrissenheit is a German word that means inner strife, fragmentation, or, as the philosopher William James memorably translated it, "torn-to-pieces-hood." Most of us know a thing or two about Zerrissenheit; even if we have no idea how to spell it or pronounce it, we've felt its shattering effect in our own bones. It refers to the sense of fragmentation and disjointedness we experience whenever we operate out of fear and shame.

what was that miraculous metal message we found somewhere along putnam avenue (or was it metropolitan?), back when we were defectors from museums & given to wandering the old brewer’s rows past midnight, now & then a silent mummer passing, a faint siren farther out & unfamiliar, a cold-body radiance lingering above the parapets of the glass factory? we tasted freedom in the silver-crystal air that night (my tongue has not forgotten), though all the words have been pulled apart.

For Anne Hutchinson, who knew it was illegal for women to teach from the Bible in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, but did it anyway, we give thanks. For William Wilberforce, who channeled his evangelical fervor into abolishing slavery in the British Empire, vowing “never, never will we desist till we have wiped away this scandal from the Christian name,”29 we give thanks. For Sojourner Truth, who proclaimed her own humanity in a culture that did not recognize it, we give thanks. For Maximilian Kolbe, the Franciscan friar who volunteered to die in the place of a Jewish stranger at Auschwitz, we give thanks. For the pastors, black and white, who linked arms with Martin Luther King Jr. and marched on Washington, we give thanks. For Rosa Parks, who kept her seat, we give thanks. For all who did the right thing even when it was hard, we give thanks.

The methods and limitations of Garrisonian abolitionism reflected the movement’s reasonable public relations concerns. Still an embattled minority in the north, white antislavery activists believed that the ultimate triumph of their cause depended on the gradual conversion of their neighbors to it. For them to rail against northern prejudice and the plight of free blacks in their own communities or to encourage slave revolt would only alienate the moderate whites whose support they hoped to enlist. But it was not only strategy that wedded most white abolitionists to peaceful moral appeal and made them willing patiently to await the blessing of Providence on their efforts. Intellectually, religiously, their opposition to slavery was genuine, even fervent. Yet slavery remained for them an abstraction, an emblem of evil rather than a lived human experience. Black people remained an abstraction, too, a collective object of pity and, inevitably, of condescension. For white antislavery activists, abolitionism was a campaign to save others: to save an alien race that suffering, simplicity, or natural passivity rendered helpless, to save the souls of slaveholders from eternal corruption by greed. It was not, however, a struggle to save themselves

Not long afterward, Crowley saw the first version of an Internet start-up called Twitter. The company was run by Evan Williams, the cofounder of Blogger, who had sold that firm to Google in February 2003 but left in October 2004, unhappy at the relative neglect with which it treated his service. Twitter was a dead-simple Internet and phone service that let people broadcast 140-character messages to anyone who chose to “follow” the stray thoughts of a given user. Crowley began sending emails to people at Google telling them that this was important and Google should jump on it. “It all fell on deaf ears,” Crowley says. “They just weren’t interested in social at the time. It just wasn’t their thing.

numbers. William

thirteen months later, Costolo did take over as CEO from the then-CEO Evan Williams, a cofounder of the company.

As Evan Williams, co-founder of Blogger and Twitter said, the Internet is, “a giant machine designed to give people what they want.”[48] Williams continued, “We often think the Internet enables you to do new things … But people just want to do the same things they’ve always done.

Zerrissenheit is a German word that means inner strife, fragmentation, or, as the philosopher William James memorably translated it, “torn-to-pieces-hood.” Most of us know a thing or two about Zerrissenheit; even if we have no idea how to spell it or pronounce it, we’ve felt its shattering effect in our own bones. It refers to the sense of fragmentation and disjointedness we experience whenever we operate out of fear and shame.2

I'd sit beside him at the white table, and together we would stare into the photographs of Walker Evans, William Eggleston, Robert Frank, and Diane Arbus. "This is all America," Greenland would say, whispering excitedly in a rare display of respect for decorum. "We need a car, Corn Dog. We have to go out there and see some of this stuff and some of these people. This is where all your music comes from.

The Australian Labor Party was formed on 8 May 1901. On 9 May 1901, people began to complain that the Australian Labor Party was better in the old days.

Satan's subtlety is seen in tempting men in their weak moments (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 22:40-46); after great successes (John 6:15, cf. vv. 1-14); by suggesting the use of right things in a wrong way (Matt. 4:1-11); in deluding his followers by signs and wonders (2 Thess. 2:9, 10).

If the testimony of travelers is enough to satisfy us as to the habits, customs, and manners of the peoples of the countries they visit, and which we have never seen, why is not the Bible, if it is authentic history, be enough to satisfy us with its evidence as to the existence of God?

Gen. 18:14—"Is anything too hard for the Lord?" What had ceased to be possible by natural means comes to pass by supernatural means.

God loves the world of sinners and ungodly men. John 3:16—"For God so loved the world" was a startling truth to Nicodemus in his narrow exclusivism. God loved not the Jew only, but also the Gentile; not a part of the world of men, but every man in it, irrespective of his moral character. For "God commendeth his love towards us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:8). This is wonderful when we begin to realize what a world in sin is. The love of God is broader than the measure of man's mind. God desires the salvation of all men (1 Tim. 2:4).

According to Dr. William Evans, who headed the Jean Mayer USDA Human Nutrition Research Center on Aging at Tufts University, the average person loses 6.6 pounds of lean body mass every decade after age 20.

William Isaacs says in his book Dialogue

Doubt is a difficult animal to master because it requires that we learn the difference between doubting God and doubting what we believe about God. The former has the potential to destroy faith; the latter has the power to enrich and refine it. The former is a vice; the latter a virtue. Where would we be if the apostle Peter had not doubted the necessity of food laws, or if Martin Luther had not doubted the notion that salvation can be purchased? What if Galileo had simply accepted church-instituted cosmology paradigms, or William Wilberforce the condition of slavery? We do an injustice to the intricacies and shadings of Christian history when we gloss over the struggles, when we read Paul’s epistles or Saint Augustine’s Confessions without acknowledging the difficult questions that these believers asked and the agony with which they often asked them. If I’ve learned anything over the past five years, it’s that doubt is the mechanism by which faith evolves. It helps us cast off false fundamentals so that we can recover what has been lost or embrace what is new. It is a refining fire, a hot flame that keeps our faith alive and moving and bubbling about, where certainty would only freeze it on the spot. I would argue that healthy doubt (questioning one’s beliefs) is perhaps the best defense against unhealthy doubt (questioning God). When we know how to make a distinction between our ideas about God and God himself, our faith remains safe when one of those ideas is seriously challenged. When we recognize that our theology is not the moon but rather a finger pointing at the moon, we enjoy the freedom of questioning it from time to time.

Books When Books Went to War, Molly Guptill Manning Books as Weapons, John B. Hench The Book Thieves: The Nazi Looting of Europe’s Libraries and the Race to Return a Literary Inheritance, Anders Rydell The Berlin Stories, Christopher Isherwood The Rise and the Fall of the Third Reich, William L. Shirer The Death of Democracy, Benjamin Carter Hett In the Garden of Beasts, Erik Larson Gay Berlin, Robert Beachy Articles Leary, William M. “Books, Soldiers and Censorship during the Second World War.” American Quarterly Von Merveldt, Nikola. “Books Cannot Be Killed by Fire: The German Freedom Library and the American Library of Nazi-Banned Books As Agents of Cultural Memory.” John Hopkins University Press Appelbaum, Yoni. “Publishers Gave Away 122,951,031 Books During World War II.” The Atlantic “Paris Opens Library of Books Burnt by Nazis.” The Guardian Archives Whisnant, Clayton J. “A Peek Inside Berlin’s Queer Club Scene Before Hitler Destroyed It.” The Advocate “Between World Wars, Gay Culture Flourished in Berlin.” NPR’s Fresh Air More The Great Courses: A History of Hitler’s Empire, Thomas Childers “Hitler: YA Fiction Fan Girl,” Robert Evans, Behind the Bastards Podcast Magnus Hirschfeld, Leigh Pfeffer and Gretchen Jones, History Is Gay Podcast “Das Lila Lied,” composed by Mischa Spoliansky, lyrics by Kurt Schwabach

Old lad . . . good old lad,” Ed his eyes did not turn away from the from the flickering light, for he was thinking, planning, weighing the desperate odds against him, putting all his hard-earned knowledge of winter travel to work on the scheme to still beat Williams’ accomplice to Beaver Falls—to still win the race against dishonor. And as he crouched there with his arm thrown across the bloodstained shoulders of this loyal partner in a cause which was all but lost, Ed did not see the dancing flames. In spirit he was high above the ragged Ine of timber over the Beaver River range, fighting his way through the torturing miles of rocks and barrens and cruel wind of the altitudes. Eighteen hours without a fire, without hot food, without rest eighteen hours at least of heavy breaking through the treacherous, drifted snow of the divide. Yes, that was the best time he could make up there—and if he failed—

I don't remember when I let mercy have its way with me.

Sir William Haley, one of my predecessors as editor of the Times, said, “There are things which are bad and false and ugly and no amount of specious casuistry will make them good or true or beautiful.

Get out,” Evan Williams said to the woman standing in his office doorway. “I’m going to throw up.” She stepped backward, pulling the door closed, a metal clicking sound reverberating through the room as he grabbed the black wastebasket in the corner of his office, his hands now shaking and clammy. This was it. His last act as the CEO of Twitter would be throwing up into a garbage can.

Representing God by Graven Images: Deut. 4:15-23; Isa. 40:25; Exod. 20:4. Study these passages carefully and note that the reason why images were forbidden was because no one had ever seen God, and consequently could not picture how He looked, and, further, there was nothing on the earth that could resemble Him.

Economists William Evans and Christopher Cronin, for example, examining footfall across industries from cell phone data, conclude that “between 74 and 83 percent” of the decline in attendance at retail outlets, entertainment venues, hotels, restaurants, and service businesses was due to “non-regulatory responses by individuals and businesses

research suggests that in areas near the U.S.-Mexico border, only one-tenth of paid domestic labor is on the books. The BLS puts the yearly average housekeeping wage at $19,570, which is both below the poverty line for a family of three and no doubt inflated by underreporting. Domestic workers without immigration papers not only lack the so-called protection of the law; they’re constantly vulnerable to deportation. So much for Lyotard’s “doing away with all privileges of place.” As Evan Calder Williams writes, “the days and bodies of humans are still far cheaper than any automation, provided money knows where to look. And it always has.” White supremacy and the gender division aren’t archaisms that capital will puree into a flow of neutered beige singularities; they’re labor relations, and integral ones.

Table Whiskey: The House Bottle I have some whiskeys that I always keep in the house. Blended Scotch: Johnnie Walker Black or Compass Box Great King Street, sometimes Dewar’s. Bourbon: Jim Beam Black, Evan Williams, or some Very Old Barton if I’ve been to Kentucky recently. Irish: usually Powers. Canadian: Canadian Club or VO. And in the summer I’ll pick up a handle — a 1.75-liter big-boy bottle — of Pikesville rye for highballs.

See you in the funny papers.' Johnny Eager From all Johnny Eager - Private Eye books Johnny's favorite saying

Blades like me dull if we ain't been pulled through the throat of something we can't name.

You are what you make of yourself. Be not defined by others. They will never believe in you as much as you can believe in you.

Addresses" of Chapter 322 of the Skull & Bones Society until I read The Wise Men by Walter Isaacson & Evan Thomas, Simon and Schuster, New York.

The Wise Men by Walter Isaacson and Evan Thomas, Simon and Schuster, New York. Under illustration #9 in the center

We can look back on each day as being either lost or spent. Mary Ann Evans, better known as George Eliot (1819–1880), shows us how to tell the difference, and what is worth a day’s expense. If you sit down at set of sun And count the acts that you have done, And, counting, find One self-denying deed, one word That eased the heart of him who heard, One glance most kind That fell like sunshine where it went— Then you may count that day well spent. But if, through all the livelong day, You’ve cheered no heart, by yea or nay— If, through it all You’ve nothing done that you can trace That brought the sunshine to one face— No act most small That helped some soul and nothing cost— Then count that day as worse than lost.

Consider the case of two very similar companies, Twitter and Tumblr. Both had brilliant, product-oriented founders in Evan “Ev” Williams and David Karp. Both were hot social media start-ups. Both grew at a remarkable rate after establishing product/ market fit. Both had a major impact on popular culture. Yet Twitter went public and achieved a market capitalization that peaked at nearly $ 37 billion, while Tumblr was acquired by Yahoo!—another start-up that used blitzscaling to become a scale-up, only to decline and fade away—for “only” $ 1 billion. Was this dumb luck on Twitter’s side? Perhaps. Luck always plays a larger role than founders, investors, and the media would like to admit. But a major difference was that Twitter could draw on numerous networks for advice and help that Tumblr could not. For example, Twitter was able to bring in Dick Costolo, a savvy executive with prior scaling experience at Google. In contrast, even though Tumblr was arguably the most prominent start-up in its New York City ecosystem, it couldn’t easily draw upon a pool of local talent who had experience dealing with rapid growth. According to Greylock’s John Lilly, for every executive role that Tumblr needed to fill, there were less than a handful of candidates in all of New York City.