H Browne Quotes

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.

Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein.

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something and has lost something.

I've learned... . That being kind is more important than being right.

A kiss on the beach when there is a full moon is the closest thing to heaven.

Never forget the nine most important words of any family- I love you. You are beautiful. Please forgive me.

Every person that you meet knows something you don't; learn from them.

Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own.

The best preparation for tomorrow is doing your best today.

Why not go out on a limb? Isn’t that where the fruit is?

Don't forget, a person's greatest emotional need is to feel appreciated.

If you know someone who tries to drown their sorrows, you might tell them sorrows know how to swim.

Life doesn't require that we be the best, only that we try our best.

Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you.

Never give up on anybody. Miracles happen everyday.

Never give up on what you really want to do. The person with big dreams is more powerful than one with all the facts.

I've learned that you know your husband still loves you when there are two brownies left and he takes the smaller one.

Be tough minded but tenderhearted.

Marry the right person. This one decision will determine 90% of your happiness or misery.

And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers - shriveled now, and brown and flat and brittle - to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of men.

Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get.

Life is slippery. We all need a loving hand to hold onto.

Remember that the happiest people are not those getting more, but those giving more.

Success is getting what you want. Happiness is liking what you get.

#1425: When you really like someone, tell them. Sometimes you only get one chance.

If you kiss someone on the back of the neck, it spreads.

Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eyes

People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost

Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon

You cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved. The rest is up up them.

Never deprive someone of hope it may be all they have

Become the most positive and enthusiastic person you know.

I've learned that it doesn't matter how your husband squeezes the toothpaste, the important thing is how he squeezes you.

Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking

When you can’t change the direction of the wind — adjust your sails

In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins, not through strength but by perseverance.

Never make fun of someone who speaks broken English. It means they know another language.

Think big thoughts but relish small pleasures.

Don’t waste time waiting for inspiration. Begin, and inspiration will find you.

Instruction for life: Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk. When you lose, don't lose the lesson. Follow the three R's: - Respect for self. - Respect for others. - Responsibility for all your actions. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.

Tape record your parents' laughter

Loosen up. Relax. Except for rare life-and-death matters, nothing is as important as it first seems.

Talent without discipline is like an octopus on roller skates. There's plenty of movement, but you never know if it's going to be forward, backwards, or sideways.

Live and learn and pass it on.

Your religion is what you do when the sermon is over.

Commit yourself to constant improvement. Commit yourself to quality. Be persistent, persistent, persistent...and have a grateful heart!

If you're doing your best, you won't have time to worry about failure.

Judge your success by the degree that you're enjoying peace, health, and love.

Opportunity dances with those who are already on the dance floor.

Wear audacious underwear under the most solemn business attire.

Watch the sunrise at least once a year, put a lot of marshmallows in your hot chocolate, lie on your back and look at the stars, never buy a coffee table you can't put your feet on, never pass up a chance to jump on a trampoline, don't overlook life's small joys while searching for the big ones.

Seek opportunity, not security. A boat in the harbor is safe, but in time its bottom will rot out.

Nothing is more expensive than a missed opportunity.

Today, give a stranger one of your smiles. It might be the only sunshine he sees all day.

The 3 most powerful resources you have available to you : love, prayer and forgiveness.

I spend roughly $80 per year watching bananas go brown.

#1487: Hug a cow.

PHI is one H of a lot cooler than PI!

Choose your life's mate carefully. From this one decision will come 90 percent of all your happiness or misery.

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something and has lost something. People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost. If you know someone who tries to drown their sorrows, you might tell them sorrows know how to swim...

There were thousands of brown books in leather bindings, some chained to the book-shelves and others propped against each other as if they had had too much to drink and did not really trust themselves. These gave out a smell of must and solid brownness which was most secure.

Don’t delay acting on a good idea. Chances are someone else has just thought of it, too. Success comes to the one who acts first.

Let the refining and improving of your own life keep you so busy that you have little time to criticize others.

Remember that the biggest gap in the world is between 'I should' and 'I did.

Let people know what you stand for and what you won't stand for.

Resist telling people how something should be done. Instead, tell them what needs to be done. They will often surprise you with creative solutions.

Turn off the tap when brushing your teeth.

Encourage anyone who is trying to improve mentally, physically, or spiritually.

الإنسان يعبر الحياة مرة واحدة لذا إذا كان هناك أي خير تستطيع فعله أو أي إحسان تستطيع تقديمه لأي مخلوق فلتفعله الآن لأنك لن تمر من هذا الطريق مرة أخرى.

Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood bring only fear and sadness. Wretched is he who looks back upon lone hours in vast and dismal chambers with brown hangings and maddening rows of antique books, or upon awed watches in twilight groves of grotesque, gigantic, and vine-encumbered trees that silently wave twisted branches far aloft. Such a lot the gods gave to me - to me, the dazed, the disappointed; the barren, the broken. And yet I am strangely content and cling desperately to those sere memories, when my mind momentarily threatens to reach beyond to the other.

Understand that happiness is not based on possessions, power, or prestige, but on relationships with people you love and respect.

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.

ما تراه يعكس تفكيرك، وتفكيرك يعكس اختيارك لما تريد أن تراه.

When you're lost, admit it, and ask for directions.

Live your life as an exclamation, not an explanation.

I’ve learned that when a man with money meets a man with experience, the man with experience ends up with the money and the man with the money ends up with experience.

Good manners sometimes means simply putting up with other people's bad manners.

Practice empathy. Try to see things from other people's points of view.

Let some things remain mysterious.

Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

Remember that the more you know, the less you fear.

Pray not for things, but for wisdom and courage.

القلب الرؤوف هو نبع من السعادة يجعل كل شيء بالقرب منه يتحول إلى ابتسامات عذبة.

Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something.” –H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

When someone hugs you, let them be the first to let go.

Never be ashamed of honest tears.

Thought for the day. Live so that when your children think of fairness and integrity, they think of you. -H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Do battle against prejudice and discrimination wherever you find it.

When complimented, a sincere "thank you" is the only response required.

Remember that what’s right isn’t always popular, and what’s popular isn’t always right. 865

Marry a woman you love to talk to. As you get older, her conversational skills will be as important as any other. 658

If you want to do something and you feel in your bones that it’s the right thing to do, do it. Intuition is often as important as the facts. 663

In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins, not through strength but by perseverance.” That’s H. Jackson Brown, Jr. —

Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn, and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. No substance to her or anything...no touch, no contact!

Don't carry a grudge.

Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship. 578

I’ve learned that moving away from my closest friends was much, much harder to do than I ever thought it would be.

I’ve learned to keep looking ahead. There are still so many good books to read, sunsets to see, friends to visit, and old dogs to take walks with.

As we mathematicians like to say: PHI is one H of a lot cooler than PI!

Your mind can only hold one thought at a time. Make it a positive and constructive one.

Give people a second chance, but not a third.

I think you’re better off without him.” Ashley didn’t lift her blue eyes from her scarf as she offered her thoughts; her long,straight brown hair was pulled into a clever twist. She was a nurse practitioner originally from Tennessee and I loved listening to her accent; “I never trust a Jon without an ‘h’. John should be spelled J-o-h-n, not J-o-n.

أياً كان هدفها المخطط له، فقد هبطت قذائف الهاون على دار للأيتام تديرها مجموعة خيرية من الموظفين في قرية فيتنامية صغيرة. قتل جميع أفراد المجموعة مع واحد أو اثنين من الأطفال على الفور، وجرح العديد من الأطفال الآخرين، ومنهم فتاة صغيرة في الثامنة من عمرها تقريباً. طلب أهل القرية مساعدة طبية من مدينة قريبة يمكنها الاتصال لاسلكياً بالقوات الأمريكية. وأخيراً وصل طبيب وممرضة من الأسطول الأمريكي في سيارة جيب. قرر الطبيب والممرضة أن الفتاة هي صاحبة الإصابة الأكثر خطورة. وبدون اتخاذ إجراء سريع، فإنها ستموت بسبب الصدمة وفقد الدم. كان نقل الدم حتمياً، وكانت هناك حاجة إلى متبرع له نفس فصيلة الدم. وأظهر اختبار سريع أن أحداً من الأمريكيين ليس له نفس فصيلة الدم، ولكن العديد من الأطفال الأيتام غير المصابين كانت لهم نفس الفصيلة. كان الطبيب يتحدث اللغة الفيتنامية قليلاً، والممرضة تجيد بعض الكلمات الفرنسية. وباستخدام تلك التوليفة، مع الكثير من لغة الإشارة، حاولا أن يشرحا للأطفال الصغار المذعورين أنهما إذا لم يتمكنا من تعويض بعض الدم المفقود، فإن الفتاة ستموت بلا ريب. ثم سألا إن كان أي من الأطفال مستعداً للتبرع بالدم لمساعدتها. صادف طلبهما صمتاً وأعيناً متسعة. وبعد عدة لحظات طويلة، ارتفعت يد صغيرة مرتعشة، ثم سقطت لأسفل مرة أخرى، ثم عادت ترتفع من جديد. قالت الممرضة بالفرنسية: “أوه، أشكرك. ما اسمك؟”. جاء الرد على السؤال: “هينج”. رقد هينج بسرعة على فراش من القش، وتم مسح ذراعه بالكحول لتطهيرها، وغرس إبرة في وريده. وطوال الوقت، ظل هينج راقداً في تيبس وصمت. ولكن بعد قليل من الوقت، أفلتت منه تنهيدة مرتعدة، فسارع بتغطية وجهه بيده الطليقة. سأله الطبيب: “هل تشعر بألم يا هينج؟”. هز هينج رأسه نفياً، ولكن بعد برهة أخرى، أفلتت منه تنهيدة ثانية، ومرة أخرى حاول أن يخفي بكاؤه. مرة أخرى سأله الطبيب عما إذا كانت الإبرة تؤلمه، ومرة أخرى هز هينج رأسه نفياً. كان الفريق الطبي قلقاً. لقد كان من الواضح أن هناك خطأ كبيراً يحدث. وفي هذه اللحظة، وصلت ممرضة فيتنامية للمساعدة. وعندما رأت كرب وجزع الفتى الصغير، تحدثت معه بسرعة بالفيتنامية، وسمعت رده، وأجابته بصوت هادئ لطيف. وبعد لحظة، توقف الفتى عن البكاء ونظر للممرضة الفيتنامية نظرة تساؤل. وعندما أومأت برأسها إيجاباً، علت وجهه نظرة ارتياح. قالت الممرضة للأمريكيين بهدوء: “لقد ظن أنه يحتضر. لقد أساء فهم مقصدكما. كان يتصور أنكما تطالبانه بالتبرع بكل دمه حتى تعيش الفتاة الصغيرة”. سألت ممرضة الأسطول: “ولكن لماذا يمكن أن يوافق على شيء كهذا؟”. كررت الممرضة الفيتنامية السؤال على الفتى باللغة التي يفهمها، فأجاب ببساطة: “لأنها صديقتي”. ليس هناك حب أعظم من هذا الحب؛ أن يهب الإنسان حياته من أجل صديق.

There are people who will always come up with reasons why you can’t do what you want to do. Ignore them. 601

All the world's a stage, but it's also a canvas and a blank sheet of paper.

Destiny lies not in the stars, but in our hearts.

Spend your time and energy creating, not criticizing. 828

Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk. 869

Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer. 689

Don’t think you can relax your way to happiness. Happiness comes as a result of doing. 691 Don’t dismiss a good idea simply because you don’t like the source. 692

Remember that a minute of anger denies you sixty seconds of happiness. 1248

Remember that every age brings new opportunities. 1325

When starting out, don’t worry about not having enough money. Limited funds are a blessing, not a curse. Nothing encourages creative thinking in quite the same way.

Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.

Never give up on a dream just because of the length of time it will take to accomplish it. The time will pass anyway. 1277

E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G—is connected. The soil needs rain, organic matter, air, worms and life in order to do what it needs to do to give and receive life. Each element is an essential component. “Organizing takes humility and selflessness and patience and rhythm while our ultimate goal of liberation will take many expert components. Some of us build and fight for land, healthy bodies, healthy relationships, clean air, water, homes, safety, dignity, and humanizing education. Others of us fight for food and political prisoners and abolition and environmental justice. Our work is intersectional and multifaceted. Nature teaches us that our work has to be nuanced and steadfast. And more than anything, that we need each other—at our highest natural glory—in order to get free.

In truth, if I admitted to the world that I believe God made me as I am, the church would excommunicate me, but I know this to be true. I am not an evil man—nor greedy, nor cruel to those in need. Yet the law would have me hang for love, the purest of human emotions.

Unhappy is he to whom the memories of childhood bring only fear and sadness. Wretched is he who looks back upon lone hours in vast and dismal chambers with brown hangings and maddening rows of antique books, or upon awed watches in twilight groves of grotesque, gigantic, and vine-encumbered trees that silently wave twisted branches far aloft. Such a lot the gods gave to me—to me, the dazed, the disappointed; the barren, the broken.

The long-simmering anger at racism and economic injustice of alienated black youth in the ghettoes was erupting into violent and destructive urban insurrections. In every case these “riots” were triggered by police brutality or misconduct, most usually the killing or brutalizing of an unarmed black man.

I noticed several things about the drummer all at once. He was focused on the task at hand, keeping perfect rhythm. Instead of a swirl of transparent colors around his torso, there was a small, concentrated starburst of bright red at his sternum. But otherwise his aura was blank. Huh. That was strange. But before I could contemplate it too much, my eyes landed on his face. Wowza. He was smokin' hot. As in H-O-T-T hot. I'd never understood until that moment why girls insisted on adding an extra T. This guy was extra-T worthy. I examined the drummer, determined to find a flaw. Brown hair. An interesting haircut: short around the sides and back, but longer on top, hanging loose and angling across his forehead. His eyes were narrow and his eyebrows were a bit thick and...Oh, who was I kidding? I could pick him apart, but even the shifty slant of his eyes made him more alluring to me.

The church has a reputation for being antipleasure. Many characterize Christians in general the way H. L. Mencken wryly described Puritans: people with a “haunting fear that someone, somewhere might be happy.”3 In reality, the church has led the way in the art of enjoyment and pleasure. New Testament scholar Ben Witherington points out that it was the church, not Starbucks, that created coffee culture.4 Coffee was first invented by Ethiopian monks—the term cappuccino refers to the shade of brown used for the habits of the Capuchin monks of Italy. Coffee is born of extravagance, an extravagant God who formed an extravagant people, who formed a craft out of the pleasures of roasted beans and frothed milk.

When tempted to criticize your parents, spouse, or children, bite your tongue.

I am not in control of how my characters live their lives, only in writing it down.

Our character is what we do when we think no one is looking. H. Jackson Brown,

Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.” ~ H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

One blue eye so light, it’s nearly white, with a wicked scar slashing straight down through it. And one brown eye so dark, it appears obsidian

Don't pray only for things; pray also for wisdom and courage. And never forget the three powerful resources you always have available to you: love, prayer, and forgiveness.

The great chasm of memory from her childhood in the intimate country surroundings of Cossethay and the Marsh Farm—she remembered the servant Tilly, who used to give her bread and butter sprinkled with brown sugar, in the old living-room where the grandfather clock had two pink roses in a basket painted above the figures on the face—and now when she was travelling into the unknown with Birkin, an utter stranger—was so great, that it seemed she had no identity, that the child she had been, playing in Cossethay churchyard, was a little creature of history, not really herself.

I looked up in curiosity. Behind us stood the Brown and Eagle Wool Warehouse and Schneider's Cap Factory, both constructed with that wholehearted devotion to industry that sullied the word architecture.

My ambition is not to leave behind me a pile of money for my heirs to quarrel about, but to find out what there is of interest in this world before I cross the border and begin to explore the other world.

Out through that window, three years ago to a day, her husband and her two young brothers went off for their day's shooting. They never came back. In crossing the moor to their favourite snipe-shooting ground they were all three engulfed in a treacherous piece of bog. It had been that dreadful wet summer, you know, and places that were safe in other years gave way suddenly without warning. Their bodies were never recovered. That was the dreadful part of it." Here the child's voice lost its self-possessed note and became falteringly human. "Poor aunt always thinks that they will come back some day, they and the little brown spaniel that was lost with them, and walk in at that window just as they used to do. That is why the window is kept open every evening till it is quite dusk. Poor dear aunt, she has often told me how they went out, her husband with his white waterproof coat over his arm, and Ronnie, her youngest brother, singing 'Bertie, why do you bound?' as he always did to tease her, because she said it got on her nerves. Do you know, sometimes on still, quiet evenings like this, I almost get a creepy feeling that they will all walk in through that window -

If ever a man was too clever for his own good, it was the learned Daor Ranald. A middle-aged scholar with silver-rimmed spectacles and a curly brown mop of hair that refused any efforts at taming, he was always moving, talking, or reading. Often all at once.

And all the sky was teeming and tearing along, a vast disorder of flying shapes and darkness and ragged fumes of light and a great brown circling halo, then the terror of a moon running liquid-brilliant into the open for a moment, hurting the eyes before she plunged under cover of cloud again.

The blue of winter, the brown of spring, the red of summer, and the fall of green. I seek the place of treasures past. I seek the truth of sand and glass. I call to the wind of seasons past. I bring with me the best of summer. I am the one with whom you bask. Deliver me and complete your task.

Pay as much attention to the things that are working positively in your life as you do to those that are giving you trouble.

Every once in a while life hands you a moment so precious, so overwhelming you almost glow.

Never refuse homemade brownies.

Become a tourist for a day in your own hometown. Take a tour. See the sights.

Set aside your dreams for your children and help them attain their own dreams.

I blame the SJW gatekeepers for killing genre and suppressing M*A*S*H parodies.

Sometimes a high moon, liquid-brilliant, scudded across a hollow space and took cover under electric, brown-iridescent cloud-edges.

Never Ignore Evil.

where the ballot-box, more precious than any work in ivory or marble, from the cunning hand of art, has been plundered.

Don’t work for recognition but do work worthy of recognition.

Count your blessings. Don't confuse mere inconveniences with real problems.

There was a certain pathos. The wood still had some of the mystery of wild, old England; but Sir Geoffrey's cuttings during the war had given it a blow. How still the trees were, with their crinkly, innumerable twigs against the sky, and their grey, obstinate trunks rising from the brown bracken! How safely the birds flitted among them! And once there had been deer, and archers, and monks padding along on asses. The place remembered, still remembered.

Don’t say you don’t have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein. –H. Jackson Brown

Still, we permit the appearance of our meats, sauces, fruits, and vdgetables to dominate our tongues until it is difficult to divide a twist of lemon or squeeze of lime from the colors of their rinds or separate yellow from its yolk or chocolate from the quenchless brown which seems to be the root, shoot, stalk, and bloom of it. Yet I hardly think the eggplant's taste is as purple as its skin. In fact, there are few flavors at the violet end, odors either, for the acrid smell of blue smoke is deceiving, as is the tooth of the plum, though there may be just a hint of blue in the higher sauces. Perceptions are always profound, associations deceiving. No watermelon tastes red. Apropos: while waiting for a bus once, I saw open down the arm of a midfat, midlife, freckled woman, suitcase tugging at her hand like a small boy needing to pee, a deep blue crack as wide as any in a Roquefort. Split like paper tearing. She said nothing. Stood. Blue bubbled up in the opening like tar. One thing is certain: a cool flute blue tastes like deep well water drunk from a cup.

The brown and charred rags that hung from the sides of it, I presently recognized as the decaying vestiges of books. They had long since dropped to pieces, and every semblance of print had left them. But here and there were warped boards and cracked metallic clasps that told the tale well enough. Had I been a literary man I might, perhaps, have moralized upon the futility of all ambition. But as it was, the thing that struck me with keenest force was the enormous waste of labour to which this sombre wilderness of rotting paper testified.

Just because you earn a decent wage, don’t look down on those who don’t. To put things in perspective, consider what would happen to the public good if you didn’t do your job for 30 days. Then, consider the consequences if sanitation workers didn’t do their jobs for 30 days. Now, whose job is more important?

And thus far it was a life: in the void. Wragby was there, the servants . . . but spectral, not really existing. Connie went for walks in the park, and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and the mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn, and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all a dream; or rather it was the simulacrum of reality. The oak-leaves were to her like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, picking primroses that were only shadows or memories, or words. No substance to her or anything . . . no touch, no contact! Only this life with Clifford, this endless spinning of webs of yarn, of the minutiae of consciousness, these stories Sir Malcolm said there was nothing in, and they wouldn't last. Why should there be anything in them, why should they last? Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Sufficient unto the moment is the appearance of reality.

But to me the future is still black and blank–is a vast ignorance, lit at a few casual places by the memory of his story. And I have by me, for my comfort, two strange white flowers –shrivelled now, and brown and flat and brittle–to witness that even when mind and strength had gone, gratitude and a mutual tenderness still lived on in the heart of man.

Of the colors, blue and green have the greatest emotional range. Sad reds and melancholy yellows are difficult to turn up. Among the ancient elements, blue occurs everywhere: in ice and water, in the flame as purely as in the flower, overhead and inside caves, covering fruit and oozing out of clay. Although green enlivens the earth and mixes in the ocean, and we find it, copperish, in fire; green air, green skies, are rare. Gray and brown are widely distributed, but there are no joyful swatches of either, or any of exuberant black, sullen pink, or acquiescent orange. Blue is therefore most suitable as the color of interior life. Whether slick light sharp high bright thin quick sour new and cool or low deep sweet dark soft slow smooth heavy old and warm: blue moves easily among them all, and all profoundly qualify our states of feeling.

A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.’— Lao-Tse ‘The first draft of anything is shit!’— Ernest Hemingway ‘Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.’— H. Jackson Browne ‘Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbour. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.’— Mark Twain

Theirs was a strange generation. They grew up with headlines about marches, protests, and sit-ins; they watched the Vietnam War and Woodstock live on color television; they all wanted to be H. Rap Brown and Jane Fonda and Patty Hearst; and when they turned eighteen and felt the full conviction of their revolutionary duty, they all voted for a soft-spoken peanut farmer who was systematically humiliated from his earliest days in office until what seemed his very last.

As happens in dreams, when a perfectly harmless object inspires us with fear and thereafter is frightening every time we dream of it (and even in real life retains disquieting overtones), so Dreyer's presence became for Franz a refined torture, an implacable menace. [ ... H]e could not help cringing when, with a banging of doors in a dramatic draft, Martha and Dreyer entered simultaneously from two different rooms as if on a too harshly lit stage. Then he snapped to attention and in this attitude felt himself ascending through the ceiling, through the roof, into the black-brown sky, while, in reality, drained and empty, he was shaking hands with Martha, with Dreyer. He dropped back on his feet out of that dark nonexistence, from those unknown and rather silly heights, to land firmly in the middle of the room (safe, safe!) when hearty Dreyer described a circle with his index finger and jabbed him in the navel; Franz mimicked a gasp and giggled; and as usual Martha was coldly radiant. His fear did not pass but only subsided temporarily: one incautious glance, one eloquent smile, and all would be revealed, and a disaster beyond imagination would shatter his career. Thereafter whenever he entered this house, he imagined that the disaster had happened—that Martha had been found out, or had confessed everything in a fit of insanity or religious self-immolation to her husband; and the drawing room chandelier invariably met him with a sinister refulgence.

I was Pittsburgh Young, Black, and Successful. Pittsburgh Young, Black, and Successful meant Friday evenings downstairs at Savoy in the Strip District, and perhaps a table upstairs if it was your birthday. It meant Alpha and Que boat rides, NEED Scholarship dinners, and Ronald H. Brown Leadership Awards galas. It meant a stint on the Urban League Young Professionals executive board. It meant brunches at the LeMont on Mother’s Day and the Grand Concourse when you wanted to stunt. It meant frequent pictures in the Post-Gazette and the City Paper

GENERAL BOOKS ABOUT LANGUAGE Highly readable, witty, and provocative is Roger Brown’s Words and Things. Also readable, magnificent, though sometimes too dogmatic, is Eric H. Lenneberg’s Biological Foundations of Language. The deepest and most beautiful explorations of all are to be found in L. S. Vygotsky’s Thought and Language, originally published in Russian, posthumously, in 1934, and later translated by Eugenia Hanfmann and Gertrude Vahar. Vygotsky has been described—not unjustly—as “the Mozart of psychology.” A personal favorite of mine is Joseph Church’s Language and the Discovery of Reality: A Developmental Psychology of Cognition, a book one goes back to again and again.

The landscape was misty and vague. I was still on the hill-side upon which this house now stands, and the shoulder rose above me grey and dim. I saw trees growing and changing like puffs of vapour, now brown, now green; they grew, spread, shivered, and passed away. I saw huge buildings rise up faint and fair, and pass like dreams. The whole surface of the earth seemed changed—melting and flowing under my eyes. The little hands upon the dials that registered my speed raced round faster and faster. Presently I noted that the sun belt swayed up and down, from solstice to solstice, in a minute or less, and that consequently my pace was over a year a minute; and minute by minute the white snow flashed across the world, and vanished, and was followed by the bright, brief green of spring.” ―The Time Machine,

1. Close Friend, someone who got yo back, yo "main nigga." 2. Rooted in blackness and the Black experience. From a middle-aged social worker: "That Brotha ain like dem ol e-lights, he real, he a shonuff nigga" 3. Generic, neutral refrence to African Americans. From a 30 something college educated Sista: "The party was live, it was wall to wall niggaz there" 4. A sista's man/lover/partner. from the beauty shop. "Guess we ain gon be seein too much of girlfriend no mo since she got herself a new nigga" From Hip Hop artist Foxy brown, "Ain no nigga like the on I got." 5. Rebellious, fearless unconventional, in-yo-face Black man. From former NBA superstar Charles Barkley, "Nineties niggas... The DailyNews, The Inquirer has been on my back... They want their Black Athletes to be Uncle Tom. I told you white boys you've never heard of a 90s nigga. We do what we want to do" quoted in The Source, December 1992). 6. Vulgar, disrespectful Black Person, antisocial, conforming to negative sterotype of African Americans. From former Hip Hop group Arrested Development, in their best-selling song, "People Everyday" 1992: A black man actin like a nigga... got stomped by an African" 7. A cool, down person, rooted in Hip Hop and black culture, regardless of race, used today by non-blacks to refer to other non-Blacks. 8. Anyone engaged in inappropriate, negative behavior; in this sense, Blacks may even apply the term to White folk. According to African American scholar Clarence Major's From Juba to Jive, Queen Latifah was quoted in Newsweek as criticizing the US government with these words. "Those niggers don't know what the fuck they doing

The odor of burning sulphur shifted on the night air, acrid, a little foul. Somewhere, the Canaan dwellers had learned of a supplier of castor - an extract from the beaver's perineal glands. Little packets containing the brown-orange mass of dried animal matter arrived from Detroit at the Post Office's "general delivery." At home, by the kerosene light, the recipients unwrapped the packets. A poor relative sometimes would be given some of the fibrous gland, bitter and smelling slightly like strong human sweat, and the rest would go into a Mason jar. Each night, as prescribed by old Burrifous through his oracle, Ronnie, a litt1e would be mixed with clear spring water. And as it gave the water a creamy, rusty look, the owner would sigh with awe and fear. The creature, wolf or man, became more real through the very specific which was to vanquish him.

Humans get hungry for blue, it seems: to hold the sea in their hands, to wear the sky in their hair, to drape themselves in the hazy blue of distant mountains. Blue is more than a colour: it is a feeling. We don’t say that we feel orange or purple, but we say we feel blue when our souls are sad and heavy. We play or sing or listen to the blues to express this sensation. Like any colour, it cannot be adequately described with words, only experienced, known through the eyes and the soul. Making blue has always been magic: the domain of alchemists since the beginning of human history. To find red only required blood or berries or the smearing of red clay. To make brown was as simple as reaching down to the earth beneath one’s feet. White chalk is plentiful in many places, or can be replaced by fire ash. But blue appears rarely in forms from which paints or dyes can be made…blue requires earthly magic.

COINTELPRO strategy designed to cripple radical organizations by misusing the courts. First, arrests of targeted activists on serious charges carrying potentially long sentences. It was of little importance to the government whether or not they had a legitimate case strong enough to secure a conviction. The point was to silence and immobilize leadership while forcing groups to redirect energy and resources into raising funds, organizing legal defenses, and publicizing these cases. It was a government subversion of the American justice system resulting in drawn-out Soviet-style political show trials that became commonplace in the America of the 1970s: the Chicago Seven, the Panther Twenty-One, etc., etc. Although the overwhelming majority of these cases did not result in convictions,3 government documents show that they were considered great tactical successes. They kept the movements off the streets and in the courts.

The song just started again, and now I sang it, too. "These strong hands belong to you..." I found a place between two men. The first was about my age, maybe a little younger, with high cheekbones and small eyes. The other was middle-aged, with a wide forehead and bulb nose, and beside him was a man with a striking face, a square, dimpled chin and high cheekbones... and then there was another, and another--all the kinds of faces in all the colors the world calls black: brown and tan and yellow and orange, copper and bronze and gold. "These strong hands belong to you..." They sang--we sang--with no enthusiasm or joy. We used to sing at Bell's, crossing the yard or working on the pile, just like slaves used to sing in Old Slavery, spirituals and work songs, sly lyrics, silly lyrics, yearning for freedom or roasting Massa in nonsense words he couldn't understand. This, though--this was a different kind of singing. I looked from man to man, and they were singing mechanically, eyes front, mouths moving like puppets. Singing this dumb refrain about how much they loved their bosses and loved their work. Nothing spiritual about this. This was something else altogether.

I don't know that he said a thing. He smelled strange, I noticed that right away, not rotten like you and Roticella said, more complicated, like an apple that the wasps are flying around, musty, but autumny... I can't explain. But he hissed, and those awful red eyes, like red fire, coals. God, they were anything but dead the way they are in his picture. I could see the iris was dark brown, almost black, and the whites were bloodshot lines... The lashes were thick and Harry I just can't say this right, but the eyes, they weren't repulsive. Evil, evil, but not to turn you away. I... I couldn't stop looking at him. It was like some sort of spider sucking out all my juices. Destroying me right there on the sidewalk. 'And I felt I was going to faint, and I tried, I tried to break out of that stare of his, but I couldn't. He was drawing everything out of me - my job, that you were trying to trap him, even things about me, even personal things. Then... then he was gone. 'I was conscious of myself again, it was like I had been left hollow, worthless. I mean something of me went with him and the rest of me wanted to go with him. I'm ashamed, Harry, so ashamed...' She sobbed for a moment, then with difficulty regained her control.

she picked up a jug of distilled water and poured it into a flask, plugging the flask with a stopper outfitted with a tube wriggling from its top. Next, she clipped the flask onto one of two metal stands that stood between two Bunsen burners and struck a strange metal gadget that sparked like flint striking steel. A flame appeared; the water began to heat. Reaching up to a shelf, she grabbed a sack labeled “C8H10N4O2,” dumped some into a mortar, ground it with a pestle, overturned the resulting dirtlike substance onto a strange little scale, then dumped the scale’s contents into a 6- x 6-inch piece of cheesecloth and tied the small bundle off. Stuffing the cheesecloth into a larger beaker, she attached it to the second metal stand, clamping the tube coming out of the first flask into the large beaker’s bottom. As the water in the flask started to bubble, Mrs. Sloane, her jaw practically on the floor, watched as the water forced its way up the tube and into the beaker. Soon the smaller flask was almost empty and Elizabeth shut off the Bunsen burner. She stirred the contents of the beaker with a glass rod. Then the brown liquid did the strangest thing: it rose up like a poltergeist and returned to the original flask. “Cream and sugar?” Elizabeth

After basic needs are met, higher incomes produce gains in happiness only up to a point, beyond which further increases in consumption do not enhance a sense of well-being. The cumulative impact of surging per capita consumption, rapid population growth, human dominance of every ecological system, and the forcing of pervasive biological changes worldwide has created the very real possibility, according to twenty-two prominent biologists and ecologists in a 2012 study in Nature, that we may soon reach a dangerous “planetary scale ‘tipping point.’ ” According to one of the coauthors, James H. Brown, “We’ve created this enormous bubble of population and economy. If you try to get the good data and do the arithmetic, it’s just unsustainable. It’s either got to be deflated gently, or it’s going to burst.” In the parable of the boy who cried wolf, warnings of danger that turned out to be false bred complacency to the point where a subsequent warning of a danger that was all too real was ignored. Past warnings that humanity was about to encounter harsh limits to its ability to grow much further were often perceived as false: from Thomas Malthus’s warnings about population growth at the end of the eighteenth century to The Limits to Growth, published in 1972 by Donella Meadows, among others. We resist the notion that there might be limits to the rate of growth we are used to—in part because new technologies have so frequently enabled us to become far more efficient in producing more with less and to substitute a new resource for one in short supply. Some of the resources we depend upon the most, including topsoil (and some key elements, like phosphorus for fertilizers), however, have no substitutes and are being depleted.

When we arrived at the wedding at Marlboro Man’s grandparents’ house, I gasped. People were absolutely everywhere: scurrying and mingling and sipping champagne and laughing on the lawn. Marlboro Man’s mother was the first person I saw. She was an elegant, statuesque vision in her brown linen dress, and she immediately greeted and welcomed me. “What a pretty suit,” she said as she gave me a warm hug. Score. Success. I felt better about life. After the ceremony, I’d meet Cousin T., Cousin H., Cousin K., Cousin D., and more aunts, uncles, and acquaintances than I ever could have counted. Each family member was more gracious and welcoming than the one before, and it didn’t take long before I felt right at home. This was going well. This was going really, really well. It was hot, though, and humid, and suddenly my lightweight wool suit didn’t feel so lightweight anymore. I was deep in conversation with a group of ladies--smiling and laughing and making small talk--when a trickle of perspiration made its way slowly down my back. I tried to ignore it, tried to will the tiny stream of perspiration away, but one trickle soon turned into two, and two turned into four. Concerned, I casually excused myself from the conversation and disappeared into the air-conditioned house. I needed to cool off. I found an upstairs bathroom away from the party, and under normal circumstances I would have taken time to admire its charming vintage pedestal sinks and pink hexagonal tile. But the sweat profusely dripping from all pores of my body was too distracting. Soon, I feared, my jacket would be drenched. Seeing no other option, I unbuttoned my jacket and removed it, hanging it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door as I frantically looked around the bathroom for an absorbent towel. None existed. I found the air vent on the ceiling, and stood on the toilet to allow the air-conditioning to blast cool air on my face. Come on, Ree, get a grip, I told myself. Something was going on…this was more than simply a reaction to the August humidity. I was having some kind of nervous psycho sweat attack--think Albert Brooks in Broadcast News--and I was being held captive by my perspiration in the upstairs bathroom of Marlboro Man’s grandmother’s house in the middle of his cousin’s wedding reception. I felt the waistband of my skirt stick to my skin. Oh, God…I was in trouble. Desperate, I stripped off my skirt and the stifling control-top panty hose I’d made the mistake of wearing; they peeled off my legs like a soggy banana skin. And there I stood, naked and clammy, my auburn bangs becoming more waterlogged by the minute. So this is it, I thought. This is hell. I was in the throes of a case of diaphoresis the likes of which I’d never known. And it had to be on the night of my grand entrance into Marlboro Man’s family. Of course, it just had to be. I looked in the mirror, shaking my head as anxiety continued to seep from my pores, taking my makeup and perfumed body cream along with it. Suddenly, I heard the knock at the bathroom door. “Yes? Just a minute…yes?” I scrambled and grabbed my wet control tops. “Hey, you…are you all right in there?” God help me. It was Marlboro Man.

Lose without excuses. Win without boasting.

I was seized with a panic fear. I turned frantically to the Time Machine, and strove hard to readjust it. As I did so the shafts of the sun smote through the thunderstorm. The grey downpour was swept aside and vanished like the trailing garments of a ghost. Above me, in the intense blue of the summer sky, some faint brown shreds of cloud whirled into nothingness. The great buildings about me stood out clear and distinct, shining with the wet of the thunderstorm, and picked out in white by the unmelted hailstones piled along their courses. I felt naked in a strange world. I felt as perhaps a bird may feel in the clear air, knowing the hawk wings above and will swoop. My fear grew to frenzy. I took a breathing space, set my teeth, and again grappled fiercely, wrist and knee, with the machine. It gave under my desperate onset and turned over. It struck my chin violently. One hand on the saddle, the other on the lever, I stood panting heavily in attitude to mount again.

the next stop, this really annoying girl in my class named Andrea who thinks she knows everything got on the bus with curly brown hair. Well, the bus didn’t have curly brown hair. Andrea did. “Bingle boo, Andrea!” said Mrs. Kormel. “Bingle boo,” Andrea said. “I’ll go limpus kidoodle now.” What a brownnoser! Andrea plopped her dumb self down in the seat right in front of me, like always. “Good morning, Arlo,” she said. I hate her. Andrea’s mother found out that A.J. stands for Arlo Jervis, so Andrea went and told everybody. It was the worst day of my life. I thought I was gonna die. I wanted to switch schools or move to Antarctica and go live with the penguins, but my mom wouldn’t let me. Penguins are cool. “Are you boys ready for the big spelling test this afternoon?” Andrea asked. Oh no. I forgot all about the big dumb spelling test! How can I be expected to remember stuff over the weekend? Weekends are for having fun, not for studying for tests. I hate spelling. “Do you know how to spell ‘spelling,’ A.J.?” asked Andrea. “Sure,” I said. “I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U.” Michael and Ryan laughed.

La envidia es el homenaje que la mediocridad le rinde al talento.

You know this pain, of being us, brown in America, we both lived in a post-9/11 New York City, but do you understand that it hits me differently as a believer in All—h? What hurt most happened afterward, though. I spoke to an Indian friend who called to check up on me. I considered her a muse, a femme to adorn with perfume made by my own hand, and even now, when I think of her, I think of the smell of my perfume on her warm brown skin, beach notes of gardenia, coconut, and jasmine, with sadness.

the city needed “a hospital of sufficient capacity for the segregation and care of persons, both white and colored, suffering from diseases such as scarlet fever, diphtheria, etc.”56 The chairman of the commission (Dr. John M. T. Finney) and the Johns Hopkins Hospital superintendent (Dr. Winford H. Smith) cooperated and agreed with the health commissioner’s plan.

You have no idea how your words affect the team on a weekly basis. Wait, let me rephrase that. The reality is, you need to know that what you say affects the team.

In our fast-paced world, clear and effective communication is a must. We live or die by how well we communicate.

Allowing the extension of slavery, leading to the creation of new slave states, would magnify the voting advantage the Constitution had granted to slaveholders from the start. Slaves could not vote, but three-fifths of their number counted toward representation in the lower house of Congress. As a result, white Southerners wielded more power per person than white Northerners. Lincoln cited two states: South Carolina and Maine. Each had six representatives and therefore eight presidential electors. “In the control of the government, the two states are equals precisely.” But Maine had more than twice as many white people as South Carolina. “Thus each white man in South Carolina is more than the double of any man in Maine.

Douglas noted the uproar with wry resignation. “I could travel from Boston to Chicago by the light of my own effigy,” he observed.

also stressed the dignity of the white working man. “I hold that if there is any one thing that can be proved to be the will of God by external nature around us, without reference to revelation, it is the proposition that whatever any one man earns with his hands and by the sweat of his brow, he shall enjoy in peace,” Lincoln told his Cincinnati audience. “I say that whereas God Almighty has given every man one mouth to be fed, and one pair of hands adapted to furnish food for that mouth, if anything can be proved to be the will of Heaven, it is proved by this fact, that that mouth is to be fed by those hands, without being interfered with by any other man who has also his mouth to feed and his hands to labor with.

At Grinnell, named for Josiah Grinnell, Iowa’s leading abolitionist, the reception couldn’t have been more supportive.

Here, before God, in the presence of these witnesses, from this time I consecrate my life to the destruction of slavery.

RECOMMENDED READING Brooks, David. The Road to Character. New York: Random House, 2015. Brown, Peter C., Henry L. Roediger III, and Mark A. McDaniel. Make It Stick: The Science of Successful Learning. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press, 2014. Damon, William. The Path to Purpose: How Young People Find Their Calling in Life. New York: Free Press, 2009. Deci, Edward L. with Richard Flaste. Why We Do What We Do: Understanding Self-Motivation. New York: Penguin Group, 1995. Duhigg, Charles. The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business. New York: Random House, 2012. Dweck, Carol. Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. New York: Random House, 2006. Emmons, Robert A. Thanks!: How the New Science of Gratitude Can Make You Happier. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2007. Ericsson, Anders and Robert Pool. Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2016. Heckman, James J., John Eric Humphries, and Tim Kautz (eds.). The Myth of Achievement Tests: The GED and the Role of Character in American Life. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2014. Kaufman, Scott Barry and Carolyn Gregoire. Wired to Create: Unraveling the Mysteries of the Creative Mind. New York: Perigee, 2015. Lewis, Sarah. The Rise: Creativity, the Gift of Failure, and the Search for Mastery. New York: Simon and Schuster, 2014. Matthews, Michael D. Head Strong: How Psychology is Revolutionizing War. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013. McMahon, Darrin M. Divine Fury: A History of Genius. New York: Basic Books, 2013. Mischel, Walter. The Marshmallow Test: Mastering Self-Control. New York: Little, Brown, 2014. Oettingen, Gabriele. Rethinking Positive Thinking: Inside the New Science of Motivation. New York: Penguin Group, 2014. Pink, Daniel H. Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us. New York: Riverhead Books, 2009. Renninger, K. Ann and Suzanne E. Hidi. The Power of Interest for Motivation and Engagement. New York: Routledge, 2015. Seligman, Martin E. P. Learned Optimism: How To Change Your Mind and Your Life. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Steinberg, Laurence. Age of Opportunity: Lessons from the New Science of Adolescence. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014. Tetlock, Philip E. and Dan Gardner. Superforecasting: The Art and Science of Prediction. New York: Crown, 2015. Tough, Paul. How Children Succeed: Grit, Curiosity, and the Hidden Power of Character. New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2012. Willingham, Daniel T. Why Don’t Students Like School: A Cognitive Scientist Answers Questions About How the Mind Works and What It Means for the Classroom. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2009.

The most beautiful brunette on the face of Planet Earth stood very close to me. Her dark wavy hair cascaded to her shoulders. Her liquid brown eyes sparkled. Her full lips smiled a wonderfully warm smile. She said hello Purdue. I shrugged. I said hello Brandy.

L. Wilson, editor of the Chicago Evening Journal; and General Henry Eugene Davies, who wrote a pamphlet, Ten Days on the Plains, describing the hunt. Among the others rounding out the group were Leonard W. and Lawrence R. Jerome; General Anson Stager of the Western Union Telegraph Company; Colonel M. V. Sheridan, the general's brother; General Charles Fitzhugh; and Colonel Daniel H. Rucker, acting quartermaster general and soon to be Phil Sheridan's father-in-law. Leonard W. Jerome, a financier, later became the grandfather of Winston Churchill when his second daughter, jenny, married Lord Randolph Churchill. The party arrived at Fort McPherson on September 22, 1871. The New York Herald's first dispatch reported: "General Sheridan and party arrived at the North Platte River this morning, and were conducted to Fort McPherson by General Emery [sic], commanding. General Sheridan reviewed the troops, consisting of four companies of the Fifth Cavalry. The party start[s] across the country tomorrow, guided by the renowned Buffalo Bill and under the escort of Major Brown, Company F, Fifth Cavalry. The party expect[s] to reach Fort Hays in ten days." After Sheridan's review of the troops, the general introduced Buffalo Bill to the guests and assigned them to their quarters in large, comfortable tents just outside the post, a site christened Camp Rucker. The remainder of the day was spent entertaining the visitors at "dinner and supper parties, and music and dancing; at a late hour they retired to rest in their tents." The officers of the post and their ladies spared no expense in their effort to entertain their guests, to demonstrate, perhaps, that the West was not all that wild. The finest linens, glassware, and china the post afforded were brought out to grace the tables, and the ballroom glittered that night with gold braid, silks, velvets, and jewels. Buffalo Bill dressed for the hunt as he had never done before. Despite having retired late, "at five o'clock next morning . . . I rose fresh and eager for the trip, and as it was a nobby and high-toned outfit which I was to accompany, I determined to put on a little style myself. So I dressed in a new suit of buckskin, trimmed along the seams with fringes of the same material; and I put on a crimson shirt handsomely ornamented on the bosom, while on my head I wore a broad sombrero. Then mounting a snowy white horse-a gallant stepper, I rode down from the fort to the camp, rifle in hand. I felt first-rate that morning, and looked well." In all probability, Louisa Cody was responsible for the ornamentation on his shirt, for she was an expert with a needle. General Davies agreed with Will's estimation of his appearance that morning. "The most striking feature of the whole was ... our friend Buffalo Bill.... He realized to perfection the bold hunter and gallant sportsman of the plains." Here again Cody appeared as the

To H.S. Boyd Monday, September 19, 1843. My own dear Friend, — I should have written instantly to explain myself out of appearances which did me injustice, only I have been in such distress as to have no courage for writing. Flush was stolen away, and for three days I could neither sleep nor eat, nor do anything much more rational than cry.

Never underestimate your power to change yourself. — H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own الحب هو عندما تكون سعادة الشخص الآخر أكثر أهمية من سعادتك الشخصية

He noted that the same summer that witnessed the Constitutional Convention saw the passage of the Northwest Ordinance barring slavery north of the Ohio River.

God worked in mysterious ways; Lincoln wasn’t perfect, but he was perfectly suited to his task. “Taking him for all in all, measuring the tremendous magnitude of the work before him, considering the necessary means to ends, and surveying the end from the beginning, infinite wisdom has seldom sent any man into the world better fitted for his mission than Abraham Lincoln.

These are not, however, the days of miracles, and I suppose it will be granted that I am not to expect a direct revelation. I must study the plain physical facts of the case, ascertain what is possible and learn what appears to be wise and right.

Viewed from the genuine abolition ground, Mr. Lincoln seemed tardy, cold, dull and indifferent; but measuring him by the sentiment of his country, a sentiment he was bound as a statesman to consult, he was swift, zealous, radical and determined.

Engineering is the art of modeling materials we do not wholly understand, into shapes we cannot precisely analyze, so as to withstand forces we cannot properly assess, in such a way that the public has no reason to suspect

La escasez es el problema del «nunca es suficiente». La palabra escasez (scarce en inglés) viene de la palabra del antiguo francés normando scars, que significa «en cantidad restringida» (h. 1300). La escasez medra en una sociedad donde todo el mundo es superconsciente de la carencia.

app we particularly like is called Tally.13 (Full disclosure: Tally was started by Jason Brown, who, when he was a student at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business, took Thaler’s class. We have no financial stake in his company.)

Building trust is tantamount to creating a high-performing team.

Managing can be a joy or can be drudgery. A lot of it is up to you.

It was about the end of December, 1857, or the beginning of January, 1858, when we reached Cedar county, the journey thus consuming about a month of time. We stopped at a village called Springdale, in that county, where in a settlement principally composed of Quakers, we remained.

I believed love was all you need. I believed you should be here now. I believed drugs could make everyone a better person. I believed I could hitchhike to California with 35 cents and people would be glad to feed me. I believed Mao was cute. I believed private property was wrong. I believed my girlfriend was a witch. I believed my parents were Nazi space monsters. I believed the university was putting saltpeter in the cafeteria food. I believed stones had souls. I believed the NLF were the good guys in Vietnam. I believed Lyndon Johnson was plotting to murder all the Negroes. I believed Yoko Ono was an artist. I believed Bob Dylan was a musician. I believed I would live forever or until I was 21, whichever came first. I believed the world was coming to an end. I believed the Age of Aquarius was about to begin. I believed the I Ching said to cut classes and take over the Dean's office. I believed wearing my hair long would end poverty and injustice. I believed there was a great throbbing web of cosmic mucus and we were all part of it somehow. I managed to believe Gandhi and H. Rap Brown at the same time. With the exception of anything my mom and dad said, I believed everything.

Managing can be a joy or can be drudgery. A lot of it is up to you.

Building trust is tantamount to creating a high-performing team.