F O Connor Quotes

We quickly became friends with other art faculty members such as the ceramist Jim Leedy and his wife Jean and art historian/artist Bill Kortlander and his wife Betty. I also began taking classes in Southeast Asian history with John Cady, who had resigned from his position at the U.S.[CB4] [mo5]  State Department because he thought it would be a huge mistake to get involved in a “land war in Southeast Asia.” In 1966, his warnings were starting to become all too obvious as the Vietnam war grew and protests against it emerged. Dr. Cady was in the thick of the protests and was even being shadowed by the F.B.I. After I finished my BFA in art in 1966, I began work on a master’s degree in history at Dr. Cady’s urging. He and his wife became frequent guests at our parties

[I]f you live today you breathe in nihilism. In or out of the Church it's the gas you breathe. If I hadn't had the Church to fight it with or to tell me the necessity of fighting it, I would be the stinkingest logical positivist you ever saw right now

The values of 9 to 0 are applied as sub-rankings to the Ranks of A through F, with an A9-Ranked individual being the highest-level User before achieving S-Rank, and F0 being the weakest. In the S-Ranks, however, sub-rankings are applied using a Class system derived from the game of chess. In descending order, these Classes are: King/Queen (depending on the gender identity of the User), then Rook, Knight, Bishop, and Pawn.

Viņa vēro kā vīrietis sviež akmeni, kā viņš pēc tam noelšas - uf-f, iztēlojas viņu kailu upē, viņa spēcīgo saulē iedegušo augumu, kad viņš pieliecas, lai izmazgātu mirdzoši melnos matus. Vai mājā - kā viņš lēni aizbultē durvis, noraugās, kā tu atpogā kleitu. Dievs lai tev piedod, bet būtu brīnišķīgi, ja dīkā pēcpusdienā tevi ieceltu gultā kāds tik stiprs un jauns. Ne mīlestības, ne vārdu, ne pagātnes vai nākotnes, tikai viņa sviedri, kas pil tev sejā, uz krūtīm un muguras. Mīļo stundiņ, cik viņš tev būtu kaislīgs - tu vai izkustu aiz baudas. Tā dēļ būtu vērts pavadīt šķīstītavā tūkstoti gadu.

INGREDIENTS 2½ cups stone ground whole wheat flour 1½ cups white flour (some bakers use whole wheat again) ½ cup rolled oats 1½ teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon baking soda 1¾ cups buttermilk 2 Tablespoons molasses or treacle (optional, but Siobhán uses it) Siobhán even splashes in some Guinness for luck. In a large bowl, combine all flour, oats, salt, and baking soda. In a separate bowl, whisk together the buttermilk and molasses. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and pour in the buttermilk mixture. (Add a drop of Guinness for good luck.) Stir with a fork or spatula until combined. Cover your hands with flour and knead the dough into a ball. Place the dough ball on a lined baking sheet and press it flat, a few inches thick. With a knife, make a cross on top of the loaf. Bake at 450°F for 15 minutes. Then reduce to 400°F and bake an additional 20 to 25 minutes, until the bottom of the bread sounds hollow when tapped. Note: I once asked an Irish woman for her brown bread recipe. She let me know that recipes are handed down, not out. So I pushed my luck and asked how hers was so soft. She relented on this and suggested longer baking times at lower heat, that is, 180 degrees for one hour.

There is power in the unknown. One could argue—given the vastness of our own world and the endlessness of the heavens above—that there is more power in the unknown than the known. What sort of secrets lie in the mysteries of this ever-infinite universe? What hidden fonts of potential linger beyond the mere dregs of our understanding? Man has largely mastered himself and the material, the physical laws of our world. But beyond that, what have we managed to harness? What have we managed to control? Perhaps one day the stories we tell our children of magics and wonders will be our reality. Perhaps one day we will hold the reins to mystery, having mastered everything from the inconsequential details of the mundane to the secrets of our very dreams and nightmares…” -A Study of Modern Advancement, Terean Bord, 992p.f.