Haas Quotes

Wouldn't we all look guilty, if someone searched hard enough?

Any one of us could be made to look a monster, with selective readings of our history.

I want to tell them all; the world is bigger than high school.

Some pieces couldn’t be glued back together. Some people weren’t for fixing. Sometimes, the only thing to do was burn the whole fucking world down and start again.

One moment. One picture. One glimpse—that’s all it takes to make someone think they know the truth.

I win.

History is told by those who win.

..the truth is, we made each other, like we learned about in science class. Symbiosis.

We're all strangers, in the end.

We're all irrevocably trapped inside our own minds: just as it's impossible for anyone to truly know us, we can't begin to hope to know anyone else.

Our lives are made up of choices. Big ones, small ones, strung together by the thin air of good intentions; a line of dominoes, ready to fall.

Now, for the first time, I wonder if this is how my mother felt. If cancer was her prison; the chemo treatments, torture. I understand it. I would rather die.

Our lives are made up of choices. Big ones, small ones, strung together by the thin air of good intentions; a line of dominoes, ready to fall. Which shirt to wear on a cold winter's morning, what crappy junk food to eat for lunch. It starts out so innocently, you don't even notice: go to this party or that movie, listen to this song, or read that book, and then, somehow, you've chosen your college and career; your boyfriend or wife.

With regards to the communication within Haas, there are three steps: we discuss it, we decide that I am right, and then we carry on.

I’d never met anyone like him before. Every rule I’d ever learned, he was breaking; everything I’d been taught to hide away, he announced it out loud.

My mom shows me her old yearbooks, and there are tons of people in there she doesn't talk to anymore. Old boyfriends, best friends… What do you think happened to them?" "Maybe they drifted apart." "That's stupid. You don't drift, not if someone matters to you." "So maybe they didn't matter, not really." "Anna?" "Yeah?" "I'd never do that. Leave you." "I know. Me either.

The truth is, it's not the act that I'm scared of, but giving myself so entirely to someone. As long as there are lines to draw and boundaries to cling to, I can pretend that I'm safe from the wanting that threatens to consume me. I'm separate, still all my own. But after... What then? What comes after, when he has that much of me, to do with as he chooses? When I have him. Will it ever be enough?

Don’t you know? There’s no such thing as the truth.’ Oliver yawned. ‘We all walk around trapped in our own subjective consciousness, experiencing the same events through a totally different lens.

Oh, Captain.” Ms. Haas extended her arms, allowing a small swarm of spiders to drag a pair of long gloves up her arms. “What is the point of doing battle against dark forces if you can’t look your best while you’re doing it?

And so it goes, day after day. Every sharp word and every angry, impure thought. You press them down, pretending they’re not a part of who you really are – the sweet, good girl, the smiling, happy person but the truth is, that anger is more real than anything. It burns and blooms and blossoms, twisting tighter with every faked smile until you wonder, what would it be like to just let it free? Stop pretending. Stop hiding. Stop being the girl they all said you should be. Imagine that freedom. God, can’t you feel it? What harm could it do?

Do you love me?" 
"You know I do." "How much?" 
"Miles and Miles."
 "Deeper than the oceans?"
 "Yup. More than the wind." 
"Higher than Everest?" 
"I don't know, that's pretty high... Ow!" (laughter) 
"Admit it. You love me more than anyone." 
 "Maybe." "What about you - how much do you love me?"
 "Enough." 
 "Hey!" 
"You didn't ask, 'Enough for what?'" 
"Fine, then. Enough for what?" 
 "For Anything." 
 "That's Better.

There is only you and your camera. The limitations in your photography are in yourself, for what we see is what we are.

After so many years drifting, not connected to anything, I'm finally tethered. Safe and loved, in the middle. We start senior year like kings, like nothing can ever tear us apart. We're wrong.

I can’t help my mind skipping over the here-and-now and racing on, to what might come next. Consequence and regret and other might-have-beens: plotting out every angle and scenario, knowing all along that the path I take means missing something else.

Memory and imagination are only a knife edge apart, and I wonder if I'm making it all up: slipping false memories in among the real ones, just to have something to hold onto. Fools gold.

Ms. Haas," I protested, "I do not wish to commemorate our failure with confectionery." "Failure? I never fail. I just sometimes lack the impetus to pursue success as rigorously as I might.

You don’t know what’s behind that smile. You can’t imagine who someone will turn out to be. We assume the sun will rise every morning just because it has done every other day, but what happens when you wake up to darkness? When you open your eyes and find, today is the one different day? I

From the moment you’re born, people start folding you into neat pieces and tucking you inside a box of their own design. No, it starts even before then, the moment the sonogram shows a faded blur. Blue for a boy, tractors and race-cars, big and strong and brave. Pink for a little princess, pretty and sweet. They dress you up in their own expectations, before you even have a chance to understand the constrictions of your fate. That box becomes so cosy and warm, you never really notice that you’re bent double, fighting for room to breathe.

we’re all irrevocably trapped inside our own minds: just as it’s impossible for anyone to truly know us, we can’t begin to hope to know anyone else. I

Some pieces couldn't be glued back together. Some people weren't for fixing. Sometimes, the only thing to do was burn the whole fucking world down and start again.

A word is elegy to what it signifies.

Wouldn’t we all look guilty, if someone searched hard enough?

His eyes lingered on me, and I wondered if that was a message. Was he danger? Was I supposed to run? I wasn’t afraid.

Life without music can only be seen in black and white. It takes music to add the color.

Any one of us could be made to look a monster, with selective readings of our history,

What happens when you realize in that sick, bloodied moment - no, no, no! - that you can't take it back? You chose wrong.

Moreover, in conversations with women, men do most of the talking (Haas, 1979), and despite hackneyed stereotypes about women being more talkative than men, we're apparently used to this pattern. When people listen to record- ings of conversations, they think it's more disrespectful and assertive for a woman to interrupt a m~ than vice versa (Lafrance, 1992).

MEOW-HA-HA

Necessity could drive you to things that seemed impossible, once upon a time.

Das ist ja beim Menschen ein interessanter Widerspruch. Den Mut bewundert man, aber die Blödheit bewundert man nicht, obwohl es doch dasselbe ist.

Y.o.l.o you only live once

The truth is rarely pure and never simple. —Oscar Wilde

Ek sit my kop in my hande en probeer stil word, stiller en stiller, en die dun vliesie, die onsigbare bindende weefsel om die deel van my brein wat my geheue bymekaarhou, wat my in staat stel om op die hede te bly fokus, begin deurskif – emosie laat dit maklik gebeur – en deur die draderige openinge begin herinnering deurkom, helende herinnering, stadig, in groot detail, langsaam, daar is nie haas nie, dit moet stewig opgebou word. Hieruit kom selfheling.

One of the biggest reasons I left Elkton Hills was because I was surrounded by phonies. That's all. They were coming in the goddam window. For instance, they had this headmaster, Mr. Haas, that was the phoniest bastard I ever met in my life. Ten times worse than old Thurmer. On Sundays, for instance, old Haas went around shaking hands with everybody's parents when they drove up to school. He'd be charming as hell and all. Except if some boy had little old funny-looking parents. You should've seen the way he did with my roommate's parents. I mean if a boy's mother was sort of fat or corny-looking or something, and if somebody's father was one of those guys that wear those suits with very big shoulders and corny black-and-white shoes, then old Haas would just shake hands with them and give them a phony smile and then he'd go talk, for maybe a half an hour, with somebody else's parents. I can't stand that stuff. It drives me crazy. It makes me so depressed I go crazy. I hated that goddam Elkton Hills

I type in Briar. But the password is rejected. I try my full name, my birthday, muse. All rejected. My jaw clenches. I have one more option, and it better not be right. I type Briar de Haas. I’m in. My stomach churns. He already thinks of me as his wife. His.

Tiernan would have her books spread out on the table, keeping her nose buried in her school work and pretending she didn’t know when he’d walk into the room to grab a drink from the fridge. And he’d only look at her when her back was turned, so she wouldn’t see.

Everything will be okay. Trust me. I don't know how many times he's said that to me, not just here in prison but my whole life. When I was scared for the first day of school, or stressed about a big test; when I fell off my bike in sixth grade and split my lip. When my mom got sick. I always believed him. He's my father, he wouldn't lie to me; he's a grown-up, he knows the truth. But now I see his promises for what they really are: hopeful prayers, a mantra he says as much to reassure himself as me. He can't fix this, not even close.

Bevve un sorso di caffè e si sporse in avanti per ravvivare il fuoco, poi prese un libro dal tavolino e cercò di concentrarsi nella lettura. Tentativo patetico e inutile. Pensò allora a come sarebbe stato condividere il ranch con una donna, un pensiero che negli ultimi tempi ritornava spesso. Pensò a Renée che se ne era andata con Craig Haas. Pensò a Rosalyn, che gli riscaldava il corpo ma non il cuore. Poi pensò a Maggie. A come si era sciolta tra le sue braccia e a come si era sciolto lui quando l’aveva sentita fremere contro di sé.

I’ve seen your type before. Full of piss and vinegar, as my father would’ve said. More concerned with being right than with being fair. You are not a coldhearted man. I can see that in you. But feelings, Mr. Haas, are what make us human. And humanity should be the beating heart of justice.

These walks in the country forced us to establish a good marching rhythm that was specific to our family. Each year we walked a little faster until as adolescents the children came to outpace us. Every family has its own pace and way of doing things that can be discovered only by walking together without being in much of a hurry.

True friendship and Pure love outweigh money, fame or power in importance and is eternal currency for those who know its value...

Do you love me? You know I do. How much? Miles and miles.

Sag mir, dass ich mich nicht immer so fühlen werde.

It’s such an ugly time, beauty is the real protest.

Jesus nunca disse, «Ide e criai uma igreja.» Isso foi S. Mateus - um cobrador de impostos com inclinação para o dinheiro e um muito especial talento para a organização.

He wanted to believe it was of the Agency’s unwritten protocol; the less you know about your associates, the better it is for both of you professionally

After the murderous attacks on September 11th, I had an overwhelming need to know what people hated most about America so we arranged to go to Disney World.

The rare beauty of distant places made home seem as if we had been thrown out of paradise and sent to purgatory or worse.

The truth is a monster and it feels no remorse.

I want to have fun," I said. "I'm tired of not having fun. Think about it: For five days all we'll have to do is have fun. That will be our job. No cultural sites, no cultural experiences, no foreign languages, no churches or museums or hikes or beaches, nothing but fun. I've been stressed out since September and I think going to Disney World will be the cure.

The Swiss, in addition to being self-righteous and unyielding, will do anything to avoid conflict. Decorum and civility define their culture. Although they are unhappy or worried most of the time, they do not show it. I do not as yet have sufficient information to support the opinion, but I believe that the Swiss government has ordered Prozac to be added to the water.

I finally realized that I had to embrace the madness, let it transform me instead of letting it define me. .... "You, my ferocious girl, are embracing the madness. Lean into it, won't ya?

Todas as religiões falam da mesma coisa, todas veneram o mesmo Deus! Todavia, os respectivos seguidores são mantidos separados pelas manipulações da religião organizada. Bem, estou farto disso tudo.

Hoje em dia, sou a favor da insubordinação individual contra qualquer seita ou autoridade religiosa que exija fé cega. A religião organizada afasta simplesmente as pessoas, tornado-as inimigas umas das outras.

The hillsides and Alps looked as if they'd been sculpted and freshly seeded. Nothing appeared to be placed at random. The world is out of control, but the Swiss had purpose. They derived life's meaning from geography.

Okuko si na ya anaghi eti ka egbe ji ya haa ya; kama na ya na-eti ka oha nuru olu ya. The chicken carried away by a hawk says that it is crying not so that the thing carrying it will let it go, but so that the public will hear its voice and be witness.

The tyranny of words is only slightly less absolute than that of men; but whereas elections, revolutions, or just the dreary passage of time can do away with human tyranny, patient analysis and redefinition are required to remedy the linguistic affliction.

Without clean water, we cannot experience optimum health, but by practically every public health standard issued during the past 50 years, humans have not experienced optimum health. One of the reasons for this fact is simple: the Earth’s water is in crisis.

The peace and beauty of it all, before I can fly, I learn how to crawl. Mentally rich so space jam is where I take my lessons to ball. Failures of life? Haa, angels surround me as if I'm never destined to fall, It's destined for all, tap into conscious mind is what makes me so raw.

In the Norte Chico, in other words, Homo sapiens experienced a phenomenon that at that time had occurred only once before, in Mesopotamia: the emergence, for better or worse, of leaders with enough prestige, influence, and hierarchical position to induce their subjects to perform heavy labor. It was humankind’s second experiment with government. “Where does government come from?” Haas asked. “What makes people decide to surrender some of their personal liberty to it? What did they gain from it? Philosophers have been asking this question for centuries. But archaeology should have something to contribute. In the Norte Chico, we may be able to provide some answers. It’s one of only two places on earth—three, if you count Mesoamerica—where government was an invention. Everywhere else it was inherited or borrowed. People were born into societies with governments or saw their neighbors’ governments and copied the idea. Here, people came up with it themselves.

Thus, the top-management approach has these essential characteristics: 1. We make an overall diagnosis before we decide on the specific problems to be solved. 2. We determine the order in which problems should be solved. We try to persuade the client to let us put first things first. 3. In the solution of problems, we take an integrating approach and recognize that: (a) external factors are usually important in the solution of internal problems; (b) very few problems can be solved in any single department or section of the business or government agency.36

Kingsley’s phone begins to ring, and her ringtone almost makes me grin. It has Lake and Falcon chuckling. ‘It’s your daddy calling, and you know he’s gonna chew your ear off. It’s your daddy calling, all you’re gonna hear is blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.’ “Hey, Dad,” she answers. “No, we came back early.” She smiles. “Yeah, it was okay.” She leans back against the couch and catches me watching her. I glance away as she continues, “No, nothing happened. We just felt like coming back before the other students.” After a short silence, she quickly rambles, “Someone’s knocking at the door. Gotta go. Love you, Dad.” She hangs up and pulls a worried face at the phone. “That was close.” “You’re not telling your father about the avalanche?” I ask. “There’s no need to worry him about something that’s done and dealt with,” she brushes it off. Changing the subject, Layla asks, “Which ringtone do you have for me?” “Oh!” Instantly the frown vanishes, and Kingsley grins at Layla. “You’re going to love it.” A moment later ‘You are my sunshine,’ comes from the phone. “Aww… thanks, my friend,” Layla coos. Lake leans over the back of the chair. “And me?” Kingsley looks at him from over her shoulder. “Have you heard of Lucas, the spider?” “Yeah.” “You have Lucas.” Kingsley presses play, and then you hear, ‘What you eating? I’m starving.’ “That’s perfect,” Falcon chuckles. “Now I have to hear mine.” “One sec.” Kingsley scrolls to his name and then I let out a bark of laughter. “You have a call from God. Haa-llelujah! Haa-llelujah!” “Badass,” Falcon grins, obviously happy with it. “This is Mason’s.” Kingsley grins mischievously, which tells me I’m not going to like it. Then a butler’s serious voice sounds up, ‘Excuse me, but I’m afraid someone is endeavoring to contact you telephonically. Shall I tell them to fuck off?’ Lake cracks up, disappearing behind the couch which doesn’t help shit seeing as I can hear the fucker laughing his ass off.

In the last years of the Republic there were films such as Robert Siodmark's Menschen am Sonntag (People on Sunday, 1930)) and Gerhard Lamprecht's Emil und die Detektive (Emil and the Detectives, 1931), which embraced the airy streets, light-dappled forests, and lakes surrounding Berlin. Billie Wilder, a brash young journalist and dance-hall enthusiast, worked on the scripts for both these films. While Kracauer and Eisner saw malevolence in the frequent trope of doubling (one being possessed by another and thus becoming two conflicting psychological presences), Wilder witnessed another form of doubling during the Weimer era: transvestitism, a staple of cabaret. Men dressing as women (as do Reinhold Schünzel in der Himmel auf Erden [Heaven on earth]) and Curti Bois in Der Fürst von Pappenheim [The Masked Mannequin][both 1927]) or women as men (as does Dolly Haas in Liebeskommando [Love's Command, 1931]), in order to either escape detection or get closer to the object of their affection, is an inherently comic situation, especially when much to his or her surprise the cross-dresser begins to enjoy the disguise. Billie left Germany before he directed a film of his own; as Billy he brought to Hollywood a vigorous appreciation of such absurdities of human behavior, along with the dry cynicism that distinguished Berlin humor and an enthusiasm for the syncopations of American jazz, a musical phenomenon welcomed in the German capital. Wilder, informed by his years in Berlin (to which he returned to make A Foreign Affair in 1948 and One, Two, Three in 1961), wrote and directed many dark and sophisticated American films, including The Apartment (1969) and Some Like it Hot (1959), a comedy, set during Prohibition, about the gender confusion on a tonal par with Schünzel's Viktor und Viktoria, released in December 1933, eleven months into the Third Reich and the last musical to reflect the insouciance of the late Republic.

GUAC AD HOC   Hannah’s 1st Note: This is Howie Levine’s guacamole recipe. He’s Lake Eden’s most popular lawyer. 2 ounces cream cheese 4 ripe avocados (I used Haas avocados) 2 Tablespoons lemon juice (freshly squeezed is best) 1 clove garlic, finely minced (you can squeeze it in a garlic press if you have one) cup finely chopped fresh oregano leaves 1 Italian (or plum) tomato, peeled, seeded, and chopped 4 green onions, peeled and thinly sliced (you can use up to 2 inches of the green stem) ½ teaspoon salt 10 grinds of freshly ground pepper (or tea spoon) ½ cup sour cream to spread on top Bacon bits to sprinkle on top of the sour cream Tortilla chips as dippers Howie’s Note: I use chopped oregano because Florence doesn’t always carry cilantro at the Lake Eden Red Owl. This guacamole is equally good with either one. Heat the cream cheese in a medium-sized microwave-safe bowl for 15 seconds on HIGH, or until it’s spreadable. Peel and seed the avocados. Put them in the bowl with the cream cheese and mix everything up with a fork. Mix just slightly short of smooth. You want the mixture to have a few lumps of avocado. Add the lemon juice and mix it in. It’ll keep your Guac Ad Hoc from browning. Add the minced garlic, chopped oregano leaves, tomato, sliced green onion, salt, and pepper. Mix everything together. Put your Guac Ad Hoc in a pretty bowl, and cover it with the sour cream. Sprinkle on the bacon bits. If you’re NOT going to serve it immediately, spread on the sour cream, but don’t use the bacon bits. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate it until time to serve. Then sprinkle on the bacon bits. (My bacon bits got a little tough when I added them to the bowl and refrigerated it. They were best when I sprinkled them on at the last moment.) Hannah’s 2nd Note: Mike and Norman like this best if I serve it with sliced, pickled Jalapenos on top. Mother won’t touch it that way. Yield: This amount of Guac Ad Hoc serves 4 unless you’re making it for a Super Bowl game. Then you’d better double the recipe.

i der Ankunft nach einer Reise oder beim Erreichen jeder Art von Ziel verleugnet man gern die deprimierende Tatsächlichkeit durch ein diffuses: »Da wären wir also.« Nach erfolgreicher Absolvierung einer Aufgabe heißt es wenig überzeugt. »Das hätten wir also.« Nicht nur die Erreichung des Zieles oder dessen Sinnhaftigkeit wird damit in Frage gestellt, sondern auch die Identität des resümierenden Subjekts. Einmal hat mir ein wohlmeinender Frankfurter Zeitungsredakteur ein da wären wir aus dem Text hinaus redigiert, vielmehr Richtung Wirklichkeit verdreht, mit dem Hinweis: »Sie SIND doch da, wozu Konjunktiv?« Unerklärbare Abgründe zwischen verwandten Kulturen. Wäre Descartes aus meiner Gegend gekom-men, hätten wir heute weltweit: »Ich denke, also wäre ich.« Die Untertitel für den ersten Schrei jedes Neugeborenen hießen: »Da wäre ich also.« Vielleicht kam mir das nur in den Sinn, weil ich in dem Gebäude, in dem meine Mutter starb, geboren wurde. Zuerst hat sie meinen Bruder hier zur Welt gebracht, vier Jahre später mich, jetzt starb sie hier. Da wären wir also wieder einmal.

Ik hou niet van reizen," zei de leraar De Haas, "ongemakken leggen de geest plat, ik zeg altijd: wie veel ziet, voelt weinig. het omgekeerde is trouwens ook waar, wie stilletjes in een duistere grot zit te turen ziet juist heel veel.

Righteousness is not the reward of living rightly. It’s the unmerited gift that irresistibly results in right living (Titus 3:5).

Data integration and access software are frequently cited as the greatest and most expensive challenge that organisations face (Bernstein & Haas, 2008)

Your leading in the silence Living God of Love: Give me ears to hear your request beneath the demands of this moment. I wish to listen for your leading in the silence. Help me listen beyond the stories I spin about others and my own self. Your leading is clear in the silence: “Love one another because you are one in me.” Amen.

The best restaurants are, in addition to the food being cooked and served, the ones in which the chef tells you his or her story.

If it is true that Paul is not the initiator of the Christian mission to Gentiles, it is equally true that he had no intention of breaking with the Jerusalem leadership. His relationship with Jewish Christianity is often misconstrued, says Beker, who adds: (Liberal scholarship) portrayed Paul as the lonely genius who, after the apostolic council in Jerusalem and his quarrel with Peter and Barnabas in Antioch…breaks entirely with Jerusalem. He is described as one who turns his back on Judaism and Jewish Christianity and is intent on making Christianity an entirely Gentile religion based on a law-free gospel (1980: 331). On several occasions Paul, in fact, clearly reveals his passionate desire to remain in full fellowship with the Jerusalem church, particularly as represented by the three “pillars” (Gal 2:9); in 1 Corinthians 15:11 he even claims that he is preaching the same gospel they preach (cf Haas 1971:46-51; Dahl 1977a:71f; Senior and Stuhlmueller 1983:164). Paul is not the “second founder” of Christianity, the person who turned the religion of Jesus into the religion about Christ. He did not invent the gospel about Jesus as the Christ—he inherited it (cf Beker 1980:341).

The way in which art creates desire, I guess that’s everywhere. Is there anyone who hasn’t come out of a movie or a play or a concert filled with an unnameable hunger? … To stand in front of one of [Louis Sullivan’s] buildings and look up, or in front, say, of the facade of Notre Dame, is both to have a hunger satisfied that you maybe didn’t know you had, and also to have a new hunger awakened in you. I say “unnameable,” but there’s a certain kind of balance achieved in certain works of art that feels like satiety, a place to rest, and there are others that are like a tear in the cosmos, that open up something raw in us, wonder or terror or longing. I suppose that’s why people who write about aesthetics want to distinguish between the beautiful and sublime… Beauty sends out ripples, like a pebble tossed in a pond, and the ripples as they spread seem to evoke among other things a stirring of curiosity. The aesthetic effect of a Vermeer painting is a bit like that. Some paradox of stillness and motion. Desire appeased and awakened.

Such names as German Mastiff, German Boarhound, English Dogge, Ulmer Dogge and Deutsche Dogge were common in countries around the world.

I relished the last few hours I had with him. One night wasn’t enough to get rid of what I felt for him - a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. As I closed my eyes, I knew that I’d have to keep far away from Peyton Haas from now on. Not only would he destroy my career, he would destroy my heart.

Woods Haha haa hahaha... By myself, in the woods just the sound of the distant water and Eryka Badu Just a scent just the word the vibrations you sending baby they're not good Just a scent ooh - just the smell ooh - just the feeling oooh - I can't help it and now Creativity in my veins the multiplicity, it speaks to me in my brain Oooh... oooh... o-oooh... mmh!... Alone! in the woods nothing else but the sound of water and Eryka Badu Just a taste! mmh! just a taste ooh - just the peak of the higher state of being (Hahahaha...)

Kyu ki hm log kosis hi ker sakte hai or ya to aapne suna hi hoga ki kosis kerne waalo ki haar nhi hotti. To fir aap thoda rukiye yaha kosis ke sath think bhi kaam aayegi jesi apki think wesa hi apka dil hoga. Isliye sabse pehle apni Think ka daaira jo bhut kam hai use badaaiye jitna apne pyaar ko samjho ge.Utna hi apke pyaar ka ehsaas badta jaayega. Zindagi kam pad jaati hai use samjhne ke liyee. Pyaar.... Esa honaa chahiye aager ak ko dard ho to dusre ko ehsaas ho jaaye aager ak ko yaad aaye to dusra tadap uthe. Kabhi hua hai apke sath aager haa to aap pyaar ke samunder me ho ab bas us samunder ko apni mutthi me kerna hai. Mene to pehle hi bola tha jitna samjho ge utna hi kam hai Or kabhi pyaar khuch paane ki umeed se nhi kerna chahiye.

Kyu ki hm log kosis hi ker sakte hai or ya to apne sunna hi hoga ki kosis kerne waalo ki haar nhi hogi.To fir aap thoda rukiye yaha kosis ke sath Think bhi kaam aayegi jesi apki Think wesa hi apka dil hoga.Isliye sabse pehle apni Think ka daaira jo bhut kam hai use badaaiye jitna apne pyaar ko samjho ge.Utna hi apke pyaar ka ehsaas badta jaayega. Zindagi kam pad jaati hai use samjhne ke liyee.Pyaar esa honaa chahiye aager ak ko dard ho to dusre ko ehsaas ho jaaye aager ak ko yaad aaye to dusra tadap uthe .Kabhi hua hai apke sath aager haa to aap pyaar ke samunder me ho ab bas us samunder ko apni mutthi me kerna hai. Mene to pehle hi bola tha jitna samjho ge utna hi kam hai Or kabhi pyaar khuch paane ki umeed se nhi kerna chahiye.

In some ways, pastoring a church is like competing in an extreme sport where you run through a dense pack of grizzly bears every Sunday. On one hand, it’s a rush. On the other hand, you quickly become aware of just how hostile a church environment can be.

Although around 43 percent of Americans claim to go to church, only about 17 to 20.4 percent actually went to church last weekend.

We are all created as self-developing organisms. It’s never too late to become whom you were meant to be. Even the universe is expanding. So, too, is human understanding. The development of faith is a part of God’s unfolding, emerging Spirit. Staying static is not our destiny. Transformation is.

both nutritionally and ecologically. The resolution of this crisis is so fundamental to our personal health and the health of our planet that we must look more closely at water than we look at any other nutrient. What is happening to our water is simple: it is Drying Up, Getting Diverted, and Becoming Toxic.

An omen for Haas was not sacred. An omen like a snowy owl wasn't a secret message sent from Heaven but Haas still felt blessed whenever a snowy owl crossed his path. For a snowy owl is a creature of great beauty... The more times the snowy owl crossed his path the more he loved it. Haas had no interest in sacred omens. It was the profane omens he loved.

George Balanchine had once remarked that 'ballet is woman.' For Balanchine, you go to a ballet for the same reason that Parmenides journeyed to the shrine of the Goddess. You go to a ballet to apprehend the event of woman as truth's disclosure. Balanchine implied that woman reveals her essence as the beautiful in the art of ballet. Truth manifests itself as the beautiful or sensuously abundant. Ballet is therefore the metaphysics of woman. Balanchine didn't put it exactly like that, but that's how Haas understood him. The woman who discloses her essence in ballet is not a human subject that is endowed with agency. Nor is she a helpless and inert object of the male gaze. She is Aletheia. Abyss.

Our attention plays a key role in shaping our reality.

Through the “eye of the heart,” we’re led inward by the Spirit, and in this interiority see and hear, taste and experience a “light higher than the mind”— that is to say, wisdom, revelation, and Divine encounter. Origen is a pillar of allegorical biblical interpretation in service of psychological and spiritual transformation in Christ. There are many others, including the modern examples of the two Thomases—Merton and Keating—both of whom have provided extensive models in their writings of spiritual interpretation that nurtures the contemplative Christian dimension.3

Ton père n'est pas le Dr Haas?" "Non", répond-elle. "Il n'as pas été dans la Gestapo?" "Non", dit-elle. Elle ne détourne pas son regard. "Peut.-être dans les Waffen-S.S.", lui dis-je. "Non plus." Alors, je ris, je ne peux m'empêcher de rire. "Il n'a jamais été nazi, bien sûr", lui dis-je. "Je ne sais pas." J'en ai assez, tout à coup. "C'est vrai, dis-je, vous ne savez rien. Personne ne sait plus rien. Il n'y a jamais eu de Gestapo, jamais de Waffen-S.S., jamais de "Totenkopf". J'ai dû rêver.

Eckhart is saying that once we become empty of all the dross within, God the Mystery can do nothing but rush in to fill the vacuum of our absence. It is up to each one of us to choose between suffocating in the vortex of the limited, knowable self, or instead to cut the cords which bind, and let ourselves drift out into, and be, the vast, incomprehensible sea of Being itself.

Los amigos de Haas se llamaban el Tormenta, el Tequila y el Tutanramón.

If there were captions explaining their history next to these dedications they would be proof of the richness of relationships in Panikkar’s life and of how my collection came from many directions. In order to sing my glories, I will select names of several famous authors who gave their books with dedications to Panikkar and to me: Francesco Alberoni, Hans Urs von Balthasar, Bettina Baümer, Massimo Cacciari, Enrico Castelli, Emil Cioran, Victoria Cirlot, Oscar Cullman, Jacques Albert Cuttat, Henri e Lubac, Mircea Eliade, Jean Guitton, Alois Maria Haas, Martin Heidegger, Johannes Kakichi Kadowaki, Károly Kerényi, Ursula King, Serge Latouche, Javier Meloni, Salvador Pániker, Octavio Paz, Emanuele Severino, Raniero La Valle, Amador Vega, Uma Marina Vesci,

The “transfer” does not diminish Christ nor make us divine on our own, but it does “link” or “connect” us into the humanity and divinity of Jesus Christ, for he is the new Adam and the representative new human being through whom we receive new life. Like open-source code and cloud-computing, Jesus Christ is the cloud and the main server to whom we are reconnected by faith and spiritual surrender.