Highland Of Knowledge Quotes

We might laugh at the notion of plastic tea sets in the jungle, but it is a time-honored ritual for Western travelers to collect preindustrial artifacts to use as home decorations...Possession of primitive artifacts suggests worldly knowledge, just as in the highland communities of Borneo an electronic wristwatch that plays "Happy Birthday" is the mark of a great traveler. Funny thing how travel can narrow the mind.

And so he and Ian—who, it turned out, could also knit and was prostrated by mirth at my lack of knowledge—had taught me the simple basics of knit and purl, explaining, between snorts of derision over my efforts, that in the Highlands all boys were routinely taught to knit, that being a useful occupation well suited to the long idle hours of herding sheep or cattle on the shielings.

Not that she felt they’d done anything sinful, as Father Odhran would say, but the notion that Lachlan wanted to tup her and not marry her had hurt. Which was confusing, because the last thing she wanted was to get married. Still, she didn’t like that he considered her good enough to tup on a regular basis, using her knowledge of herbs to avoid having bairns, but not good enough to marry. Idiot man. Nay, laird. He was her laird, and she’d best remember that…idiot laird.

It is often said that what most immediately sets English apart from other languages is the richness of its vocabulary. Webster’s Third New International Dictionary lists 450,000 words, and the revised Oxford English Dictionary has 615,000, but that is only part of the total. Technical and scientific terms would add millions more. Altogether, about 200,000 English words are in common use, more than in German (184,000) and far more than in French (a mere 100,000). The richness of the English vocabulary, and the wealth of available synonyms, means that English speakers can often draw shades of distinction unavailable to non-English speakers. The French, for instance, cannot distinguish between house and home, between mind and brain, between man and gentleman, between “I wrote” and “I have written.” The Spanish cannot differentiate a chairman from a president, and the Italians have no equivalent of wishful thinking. In Russia there are no native words for efficiency, challenge, engagement ring, have fun, or take care [all cited in The New York Times, June 18, 1989]. English, as Charlton Laird has noted, is the only language that has, or needs, books of synonyms like Roget’s Thesaurus. “Most speakers of other languages are not aware that such books exist” [The Miracle of Language, page 54]. On the other hand, other languages have facilities we lack. Both French and German can distinguish between knowledge that results from recognition (respectively connaître and kennen) and knowledge that results from understanding (savoir and wissen). Portuguese has words that differentiate between an interior angle and an exterior one. All the Romance languages can distinguish between something that leaks into and something that leaks out of. The Italians even have a word for the mark left on a table by a moist glass (culacino) while the Gaelic speakers of Scotland, not to be outdone, have a word for the itchiness that overcomes the upper lip just before taking a sip of whiskey. (Wouldn’t they just?) It’s sgriob. And we have nothing in English to match the Danish hygge (meaning “instantly satisfying and cozy”), the French sang-froid, the Russian glasnost, or the Spanish macho, so we must borrow the term from them or do without the sentiment. At the same time, some languages have words that we may be pleased to do without. The existence in German of a word like schadenfreude (taking delight in the misfortune of others) perhaps tells us as much about Teutonic sensitivity as it does about their neologistic versatility. Much the same could be said about the curious and monumentally unpronounceable Highland Scottish word sgiomlaireachd, which means “the habit of dropping in at mealtimes.” That surely conveys a world of information about the hazards of Highland life—not to mention the hazards of Highland orthography. Of

Why does it feel as if I've barely closed my eyes?" "Possibly because you just have, my insatiable young minx. I should have remembered what effect Archibald's company had on your tolerance for wine." "It was not the wine that kept me awake, sir. It was the brandy." He glanced up from tucking his shirttails into his breeches and grinned wolfishly. "Perhaps next time we should try drinking it out of glasses." "Perverted and lustful,"she grumbled crossly. "That's what you are. And far too knowledgeable of things decent men and women would never dream of going in their most wicked fantasies." "Is that a complaint?

The year 1992 was the countdown year for the formation of the European single market, the regional economic entity—utopian for some, dystopian for others—now intended to recenter Europe in a global politics fragmented in the wake of the breakup of the Soviet Union....The year 1992 was also when the action adventure TV series Highlander first premiered—“the first European co-produced weekly hour to be sold into the US syndication market.” ...My own pleasure in Highlander began with the principal actor Adrian Paul’s eroticized image. I immediately (and somewhat idiosyncratically) “recognized” it as gay (the image, not necessarily the main story character Duncan MacLeod, or the actor Adrian Paul). It was in this “recognition” that I discovered my pleasure in the show. As a lesbian I was surprised: this was really the first TV show since my adolescence in which an eroticized male image seemed so powerfully attractive to me. Perhaps that is why I assumed it was somehow gay....

The Sumerian pantheon was headed by an "Olympian Circle" of twelve, for each of these supreme gods had to have a celestial counterpart, one of the twelve members of the Solar System. Indeed, the names of the gods and their planets were one and the same (except when a variety of epithets were used to describe the planet or the god's attributes). Heading the pantheon was the ruler of Nibiru, ANU whose name was synonymous with "Heaven," for he resided on Nibiru. His spouse, also a member of the Twelve, was called ANTU. Included in this group were the two principal sons of ANU: E.A ("Whose House Is Water"), Anu's Firstborn but not by Antu; and EN.LIL ("Lord of the Command") who was the Heir Apparent because his mother was Antu, a half sister of Anu. Ea was also called in Sumerian texts EN.KI ("Lord Earth"), for he had led the first mission of the Anunnaki from Nibiru to Earth and established on Earth their first colonies in the E.DIN ("Home of the Righteous Ones")—the biblical Eden. His mission was to obtain gold, for which Earth was a unique source. Not for ornamentation or because of vanity, but as away to save the atmosphere of Nibiru by suspending gold dust in that planet's stratosphere. As recorded in the Sumerian texts (and related by us in The 12th Planet and subsequent books of The Earth Chronicles), Enlil was sent to Earth to take over the command when the initial extraction methods used by Enki proved unsatisfactory. This laid the groundwork for an ongoing feud between the two half brothers and their descendants, a feud that led to Wars of the Gods; it ended with a peace treaty worked out by their sister Ninti (thereafter renamed Ninharsag). The inhabited Earth was divided between the warring clans. The three sons of Enlil—Ninurta, Sin, Adad—together with Sin's twin children, Shamash (the Sun) and Ishtar (Venus), were given the lands of Shem and Japhet, the lands of the Semites and Indo-Europeans: Sin (the Moon) lowland Mesopotamia; Ninurta, ("Enlil's Warrior," Mars) the highlands of Elam and Assyria; Adad ("The Thunderer," Mercury) Asia Minor (the land of the Hittites) and Lebanon. Ishtar was granted dominion as the goddess of the Indus Valley civilization; Shamash was given command of the spaceport in the Sinai peninsula. This division, which did not go uncontested, gave Enki and his sons the lands of Ham—the brown/black people—of Africa: the civilization of the Nile Valley and the gold mines of southern and western Africa—a vital and cherished prize. A great scientist and metallurgist, Enki's Egyptian name was Ptah ("The Developer"; a title that translated into Hephaestus by the Greeks and Vulcan by the Romans). He shared the continent with his sons; among them was the firstborn MAR.DUK ("Son of the Bright Mound") whom the Egyptians called Ra, and NIN.GISH.ZI.DA ("Lord of the Tree of Life") whom the Egyptians called Thoth (Hermes to the Greeks)—a god of secret knowledge including astronomy, mathematics, and the building of pyramids. It was the knowledge imparted by this pantheon, the needs of the gods who had come to Earth, and the leadership of Thoth, that directed the African Olmecs and the bearded Near Easterners to the other side of the world. And having arrived in Mesoamerica on the Gulf coast—just as the Spaniards, aided by the same sea currents, did millennia later—they cut across the Mesoamerican isthmus at its narrowest neck and—just like the Spaniards due to the same geography—sailed down from the Pacific coast of Mesoamerica southward, to the lands of Central America and beyond. For that is where the gold was, in Spanish times and before.

Studies from many parts of the world, and many different time periods, show that ‘less advanced’ agricultural practices can out-perform more complex technologies. Detailed knowledge of local conditions, combined with a pragmatic receptivity to useful ideas, facilitates effective use of resources, while the precarious conditions many small farmers face encourage innovation.7 In highland Guatemala, smallholders maintain vegetable plots producing food for their households alongside fields with export crops of the sort encouraged by development programmes. Such farmers cannot afford to be conservative in their agricultural practices.

In a flash it came to me - might not people who were forced to spend their working hours between walls like to hear about what went on in a hill-top croft, of how it was possible to get an immense amount of fun and satisfaction out of lifting loads of mud into a cart, even though your boots were leaking and you knew there was not enough in the kitty to buy another pair? Would they like to know about the way light could stream down a blue hillside on a spring noon, how a lark could suddenly leap into a pale, washed skye after a night of storm and make the air ring with song, of how it was possible to get by every sort of difficulty as long as there was this knowledge that you were all in it together, this solidarity with rock and sun and bird? I believed they would.

You look different.” He said nothing, knowing that his face would appear leaner to her, his eyes perhaps taking on more of a yellow tinge in the brown depths. “You are very pale, but . . .” She was obviously trying to puzzle it out, but didn’t understand and was growing frightened and confused. “Aye, nae doubt I am pale. I lost a fair amount o’ blood,” Connall said, wishing he could ease this for her. “Aye.” She nodded slowly and tried to smile, but was having difficulty with it and he knew she could see the hunger in him. “You need food and rest to rebuild it.” “I need blood.” Eva stared at him silently, then her eyes moved back to his wound as if drawn there by some unseen force. He could tell by her expression that it was continuing to heal, growing smaller by the moment. “You heal much more quickly than we do,” she said finally. Her voice was bleak and Connall winced at the knowledge in it. We. She had finally admitted to what was staring her in the face; the supposed reaction to the sun, the rumors, his wound healing so quickly . . . The fact that Aileen aged had probably confused her, but she was seeing it now. You heal more quickly than we. We. He was not one of her kind, at least not wholly. He was different. Connall always had been, and should be used to it by now, but somehow it hurt hearing Eva say it. Her face was expressionless when she turned it back to him to ask, “Are you soulless?” Connall knew that she was making a decision in her mind, one vital to their future. He had feared this moment, but felt hope in the fact that she hadn’t simply turned away in horror. “Nay. I’m no a dead, soulless creature as the rumors proclaim,” he answered solemnly. “I’m jest different.” “But

Connall had only stopped when she’d gone limp in his arms, and could still recall the pallor of her skin as he’d lifted his head to peer down at her. Eva had lain limp and pale in his arms, and so very still. Connall had felt a fear like he had never before known clutch at him. It was only then, as he’d cradled her in his arms and pressed her head to his chest that he’d realized how much he’d grown to care for the woman. She had been trying since arriving to make a place for herself at MacAdie, but somehow had crept into his heart and made a home for herself there as well. He loved Eva and that knowledge had kept him awake to watch over her until his physical state alone had forced him to sleep. Connall had awoken at sunset to find her curled up against him. She’d still looked awfully pale to him, but not nearly as much as she had the night before, and when he’d brushed a hand lightly over her cheek and she had murmured his name sleepily, relief had flooded him along with the knowledge that she was recovering. He’d decided to leave her to rest for a bit while he tended to his need to feed, and had dressed and left the night room. Aware

He doubted there was anything she could have done to save her mother. Any more than he, with all the knowledge he'd gained over the last ten years, would now know what to do for his mother were she here and ill as she had been ten years ago. He'd never again encountered an illness similar to hers, not in the writings he'd read or the patients he'd tended. Rory had come to suspect that sometimes there was just nothing you could do for the people you loved, no matter how much you wished you could. Sometimes there just wasn't enough knowledge, skill and love to save them. Otherwise, no one would ever die. But death was as natural and necessary as birth.

There were outlaw bikers and meth labs close by. Berenson was readier to believe that. Stories about the badlands were legion. But a pained echo in a chance remark about Dean’s daughter led her to believe that the kid was in some way the problem. She was fourteen years old. Berenson put two and two together and made five. She figured maybe the kid was hanging with the bikers or experimenting with crystal and causing big problems at home. Then she revised her opinion. The quality problems up at Highland Park became common knowledge inside the company. Berenson knew that Dean had a difficult split responsibility. As a director of the corporation he had a fiduciary duty to see it do well. But he also had a parallel responsibility to the Pentagon to make sure New Age sold it only the good stuff. Berenson figured