Iit Quotes

But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?

Money, iit turned out, was exactly like sex, you thought of nothing else if you didn't have it and thought of otherthings if you did.

Indeed Not. Stop kicking me, Daine. You understand, she is very important to a number of powerful nobles and mages in Tortall." Numair's voice was quiet, almost friendly; his eyes were hard. "Their majesties. Lady Alanna and her husband, the baron of Pirate's Swoop. Me. All of us would take iit amiss if we thought for a moment she was being trifled with, particularly by a young man who wasn't free to do the right thing by her." "Numair," Daine growled. "Can I speak to you privately for a moment? "No. Stepping on my foot won't work either. Do I make myself clear, Prince Kaddar?

The Photograph is violent: not because it shows violent tings, but because on each occasion (i)it fills the sight by force(i), and because in it nothing can be refused or transformed (that we can sometimes call it mild does not contradict its violence: many say that sugar is mild, but to me sugar is violent, and I call it so).

I suddenly leaned forward,bringing my face close to hers.catching her breath,stifling that laugh and pink tongue,she watched me wide-eyed.I removed the wallet from my back pocket and sat down casually again. "What happened?" I asked idly. "I thought...never mind".She blinked. Ha,gotcha

Rising from the ashes, I am born again, powerful, exultant, majestic through all the pain.

By the time most people say 'I'm sorry' it is already too late.

We have a fictional “I” that we try to love and protect. We spend most of our life playing this futile game. “What will happen? How will it go? Will I get something out of it?” I, I, I—it’s a mind game of illusion, and we are lost in it.

Life is like a pavement. Some slabs are perfect, others broken or cracked but at the end iit's always a complete and perfect slab.

Though the 'Thou' is not an 'It', it is also not "another 'I'". He who treats a person as "another 'I'" does not really see that person but only a projected image of himself. Such a relation, despite the warmest "personal" feeling is really 'I'-'It'.

It is wrong to turn a man (a subject) into a thing (an object). By means of spiritual dialogue, the I-It relationship becomes an I-Thou relationship. God comes and goes in man's soul. And men come and go in each other's souls. Sometimes they come and go in each other's beds, too.

I think half the trees in the world are felled to make up the IIT entrance exam guides. Most of them are crap,

So while I was busy saving you from Hell, you were pushing me further to it; the poison murdering me well.

The basic word I-You can only be spoken with one’s whole being. The basic word I-It can never be spoken with one’s whole being.

After a moment: ‘At Ravenel, I—it had been a long time since I had—with anyone. I was nervous.’ ‘I know,’ said Damen. ‘There has,’ said Laurent. He stopped. ‘There has only been one other person.’ Softly, ‘I’m a little more experienced than that.’ ‘Yes, that is immediately apparent.’ ‘Is it?’ A little pleased. ‘Yes.’ He

Did you track me down to fuck you?” He didn’t think embarrassment had a sound. But it did. It came out of her throat the same time her fingers rimmed her neck and she took a big gulp of air. “I—it’s not like that, Kyle. Really. I,” and then. Her voice quivered, but she met his eyes. “Yes. Yes, that’s what I want. One last time. For old times’ sake.

One cannot divide one’s life between an actual relationship to God and an inactual I-It relationship to the world - praying to God in truth and utilizing the world. Whoever knows the world as something to be utilized knows God the same way. His prayers are a way of unburdening himself - and fall into the ears of the void.

I guess teaching maths at Chandan Classes didn’t keep me as fit as when I was the volleyball captain at IIT Delhi.

Dr. Prabha Mandyam of IIT Madras and Dr. Anupama Ray from IBM Quantum are at the forefront of quantum education in India.

प्राइवेट कॉलेज जहाँ बंदा कभी चुपके से तो कभी घर वालों के प्रैशर की वजह से अपने फ़र्स्ट इयर में भी IIT-JEE का पेपर देता है और 5 point someone पढ़ते हुए ये सोचता है कि IIT में तो हुआ नहीं , जिंदगी में कभी वो no one से someone की दूरी तय भी कर पाएगा या नहीं ?

I—it’s like this, Scout,” he muttered. “Atticus ain’t ever whipped me since I can remember. I wanta keep it that way.

By living on our own terms. By being rats, not mice, work together and beat the system. I will not give up my friends for this system. In fact, my friendships will beat the system.

True Love Comes From Unconditional Trust

the I-It relationship, we treat other people as objects and expect something back from each relationship. In contrast, in the I-Thou relationship we relate to others out of respect, friendship, and love.

It is not work that kills men, it is worry. Work is healthy; you can hardly put more on a man than he can bear. But worry is rust upon the blade. It is not movement that destroys the machinery, but friction.’ —HENRY WARD BEECHER

An I-it relationship is basically what we create when we are in transactions with people whom we treat like objects - people who are simply there to serve us or complete a task. I-you relationships are characterized by human connection and empathy. Buber wrote, "When two people relate to each other authentically and humanly, God is the electricity that surges between them." After spending a decade studying belonging, authenticity, and shame, I can say for certain that we are hardwired for connection - emotionally, physically, and spiritually.

Through these assaults of the left hemisphere on the body, spirituality and art, essentially mocking, discounting or dismantling what it does not understand and cannot use, we are at risk of becoming trapped in the I–it world, with all the exits through which we might rediscover the I–thou world being progressively blocked off.

collaboration between teams at IBM and IIT Madras offered a quantum computing course on NPTEL, a popular MOOC platform in India. Despite minimal advertising, this course attracted 10,000 registrants, exemplifying the keen interest in quantum computing among Indian learners. Additionally, IBM’s Qiskit summer schools consistently see high participation from India, indicating a sustained enthusiasm and growing expertise in the field within the country. The registrations have to be closed early in India because the priority access slots on quantum computers are limited. This trend reflects the flourishing quantum learners community India, driven by educational initiatives and widespread engagement from students and professionals.

But, when the cult of the male god was established, there must have been difficulty in explaining how he could be the giver of life to all creation—since the man, unlike the woman, cannot produce from his body either the child or the food for the child. The whole attitude of humans towards the God had to be altered—violently altered. There could not be that same vital biological and magical link (the I-Thou) between the child and the father, as there is between the child and its mother: two beings evolving in and from the same body, the same rhythms, the same dreams. From the religious point of view, this means the loss between the human and the divine of direct, continuous physical-emotional-spiritual relationship. Oneness is dualized, the “self” is isolated within, and the rest of the universe, including God, is displaced and objectified without. The evolutionary, protoplasmic connection between the experienced self and the All is broken, and the new relation becomes: I-the Other; or worse: I-It. The father is not of the same all-containing, all-infusing, shaping and nourishing substance, and so the relation between humans and the Father God becomes abstract and alienated, distant and moralistic. The

I-I’ll lay it on the l-line for you, b-babe. I t-trade illegal weapons for c-cash and d-drink far too m-much. I f-fuck sluts regularly and d-don’t commit to no one f-for long, maybe n-n-never will.” I made sure I had her full attention for the last part. “I-I’ve killed p-p-people. I-I’ve even l-liked it, and”—I knew I was bringing the final death blow—“I’ll d-do it again. Y-you want someone g-g-good to take c-care of you. I-it ain’t me, babe.

At a national level this particularly so when those others seem to have something stronger or better than Japan does. It adopted, adapted and frequently improved, making the strengths of a potential competitor or foe intro own strengths. This is not just a case of "know your enemy": it is a case of knowing what makes thy enemy a threat and then using his own strengths against him. More than a 1000 years ago Japan learned much from China, to the point where it was no longer a vassal nation but considered itself a superior one. It repeated the process some extent in the Tokugawa period, learning the use of firearms from the west. In the Meiji period iit furiously studied western imperial powers till it became one itself. After the war it learned much from America - admittedly with little choice to start with - but went beyond its compulsory lessons to the point where it reversed roles and became widely recognized as the master.

I forgot the maid who works in my P.G. and struggles to make money, every day, who is in fear that one day her cruel husband will find her out eventually and beat her and her son to death. I forgot that auto driver I met on my way to M.G. road metro station, and who wanted to be in the army but gave up study due to the financial crisis. I forgot that security guard I met at IIT Delhi, and who was forced to leave the study and marry at the age of 15. I forgot those little kids I generally encounter at Railway stations and trains selling packets of pens @ Rs.25 per packet. I forgot that 75 years old ricksha wala I met in sector 23 market with only one eye and high power lens I forgot that washroom cleaning staff at my office who always welcomes me with a broad smile. I forgot the dead body of that martyred soldier I saw at the Kashmir airport, laden with garlands of marigold and people shouting," jawan amar rahe!" I forgot the scream of that pig near my office when a thick rope was brutally tied in its nose and it was forcefully taken by some people on a bike. I almost forgot everything!

Um, i-it's Monkfish-Dobujiru Curry." DOBUJIRO A hot stew with monkfish as the main ingredient... it's a recipe that has its roots in the fishing towns of Japan's northern prefectures of Ibaraki and Fukushima. Curry and monkfish? What a strange pairing. What on earth is she thinking? AAAH... "Now I see! This is why she used monkfish! The most unique part of Dobujiru is how it is made by first simmering a monkfish liver- the foie gras of the sea- until it dissolves. Miso paste and sake are then added to stretch the liver and form the base of the broth. But she added curry spices to that... ... to make a "Monkfish-Liver-Curry Miso" base!" "Who would've dreamed that the deep, sticky richness of the liver would meld so well with curry spices! Mmm! I can feel the warmth seeping through my whole body!

I don't know about you but I find I want to resist Buber here. Because personally I am pretty attached to my own feelings (and the complex, fascinating personality they imply). But even if I can't accept Buber totally here, I do find him a useful correction to some of my worse instincts. Looking at my life through a Buber lens, for example, I see that it is quite possible that my feelings, as strong as they may be, may disclose no more of reality to me than is afforded by the outline of my own self-image. This is useful knowledge. Every day I am confronted by situations in which I must judge the reality or otherwise of a situation by way of my feelings about it (this is especially acute in marital arguments). But just because I feel something very strongly, does this make it true? Isn't it possible that in may cases where my feelings are strong I may indeed be no different to all those delusional girls in the Bieber signing queue, who have so many feelings for him, after all, so very many sincere, deep, excruciating feelings, which are, of course, what define their identity, what makes of each of them Beliebers ...

I am running out of space--the platform is ending--I seize the handle and swing myself in, my muscles absorbing the pull forward. Tris stands inside the car, wearing a small, crooked smile. Her black jacket is zipped up to her throat, framing her face in darkness. She grabs my collar and pulls me in for a kiss. As she pulls away, she says, “I always loved watching you do that.” I grin. “Is this what you had planned?” Caleb demands from behind me. “For her to be here when you kill me? That’s--” “Kill him?” Tris asks me, not looking at her brother. “Yeah, I let him think he was being taken to his execution,” I say, loud enough that he can hear. “You know, sort of like he did to you in Erudite headquarters.” “I…it isn’t true?” His face, lit by the moon, is slack with shock. I notice that his shirt’s buttons are in the wrong buttonholes. “No,” I say. “I just saved your life, actually.” He starts to say something, and I interrupt him. “Might not want to thank me just yet. We’re taking you with us. Outside the fence.” Outside the fence--the place he once tried so hard to avoid that he turned on his own sister. It seems a more fitting punishment than death, anyway. Death is so quick, so certain. Where we’re going now, nothing is certain.

Finally, Tononi argues that the neural correlate of consciousness in the human brain resembles a grid-like structure. One of the most robust findings in neuroscience is how visual, auditory, and touch perceptual spaces map in a topographic manner onto visual, auditory, and somatosensory cortices. Most excitatory pyramidal cells and inhibitory interneurons have local axons strongly connected to their immediate neighbours, with the connections probability decreasing with distance. Topographically organized cortical tissue, whether it develops naturally inside the skull or is engineered out of stem cells and grown in dishes, will have high intrinsic causal power. This tissue will feel like something, even if our intuition revels at the thought that cortical carpets, disconnected from all their inputs and outputs, can experience anything. But this is precisely what happens to each one of us when we close our eyes, go to sleep, and dream. We create a world that feels as real as the awake one, while devoid of sensory input and unable to move. Cerebral organoids or grid-like substances will not be conscious of love or hate, but of space.; of up, down, close by and far away and other spatial phenomenology distinctions. But unless provided with sophisticated motor outputs, they will be unable to do anything.

This brings me to an objection to integrated information theory by the quantum physicist Scott Aaronson. His argument has given rise to an instructive online debate that accentuates the counterintuitive nature of some IIT's predictions. Aaronson estimates phi.max for networks called expander graphs, characterized by being both sparsely yet widely connected. Their integrated information will grow indefinitely as the number of elements in these reticulated lattices increases. This is true even of a regular grid of XOR logic gates. IIT predicts that such a structure will have high phi.max. This implies that two-dimensional arrays of logic gates, easy enough to build using silicon circuit technology, have intrinsic causal powers and will feel like something. This is baffling and defies commonsense intuition. Aaronson therefor concludes that any theory with such a bizarre conclusion must be wrong. Tononi counters with a three-pronged argument that doubles down and strengthens the theory's claim. Consider a blank featureless wall. From the extrinsic perspective, it is easily described as empty. Yet the intrinsic point of view of an observer perceiving the wall seethes with an immense number of relations. It has many, many locations and neighbourhood regions surrounding these. These are positioned relative to other points and regions - to the left or right, above or below. Some regions are nearby, while others are far away. There are triangular interactions, and so on. All such relations are immediately present: they do not have to be inferred. Collectively, they constitute an opulent experience, whether it is seen space, heard space, or felt space. All share s similar phenomenology. The extrinsic poverty of empty space hides vast intrinsic wealth. This abundance must be supported by a physical mechanism that determines this phenomenology through its intrinsic causal powers. Enter the grid, such a network of million integrate-or-fire or logic units arrayed on a 1,000 by 1,000 lattice, somewhat comparable to the output of an eye. Each grid elements specifies which of its neighbours were likely ON in the immediate past and which ones will be ON in the immediate future. Collectively, that's one million first-order distinctions. But this is just the beginning, as any two nearby elements sharing inputs and outputs can specify a second-order distinction if their joint cause-effect repertoire cannot be reduced to that of the individual elements. In essence, such a second-order distinction links the probability of past and future states of the element's neighbours. By contrast, no second-order distinction is specified by elements without shared inputs and outputs, since their joint cause-effect repertoire is reducible to that of the individual elements. Potentially, there are a million times a million second-order distinctions. Similarly, subsets of three elements, as long as they share input and output, will specify third-order distinctions linking more of their neighbours together. And on and on. This quickly balloons to staggering numbers of irreducibly higher-order distinctions. The maximally irreducible cause-effect structure associated with such a grid is not so much representing space (for to whom is space presented again, for that is the meaning of re-presentation?) as creating experienced space from an intrinsic perspective.

He concluded the speech with an irritated motion of his hands. Unfortunately, Evie had been conditioned by too many encounters with Uncle Peregrine to discern between angry gestures and the beginnings of a physical attack. She flinched instinctively, her own arms flying up to shield her head. When the expected pain of a blow did not come, she let out a breath and tentatively lowered her arms to find Sebastian staring at her with blank astonishment. Then his face went dark. "Evie," he said, his voice containing a bladelike ferocity that frightened her. "Did you think I was about to... Christ. Someone hit you. Someone hit you in the past---who the hell was it?" He reached for her suddenly---too suddenly---and she stumbled backward, coming up hard against the wall. Sebastian went very still. "Goddamn," he whispered. Appearing to struggle with some powerful emotion, he stared at her intently. After a long moment, he spoke softly. "I would never strike a woman. I would never harm you. You know that, don't you?" Transfixed by the light, glittering eyes that held hers with such intensity, Evie couldn't move or make a sound. She started as he approached her slowly. "It's all right," he murmured. "Let me come to you. It's all right. Easy." One of his arms slid around her, while he used his free hand to smooth her hair, and then she was breathing, sighing, as relief flowed through her. Sebastian brought her closer against him, his mouth brushing her temple. "Who was it?" he asked. "M-my uncle," she managed to say. The motion of his hand on her back paused as he heard her stammer. "Maybrick?" he asked patiently. "No, th-the other one." "Stubbins." "Yes." Evie closed her eyes in pleasure as his other arm slid around her. Clasped against Sebastian's hard chest, with her cheek tucked against his shoulder, she inhaled the scent of clean male skin, and the subtle touch of sandalwood cologne. "How often?" she heard him ask. "More than once?" "I... i-it's not important now." "How often, Evie?" Realizing that he was going to persist until she answered, Evie muttered, "Not t-terribly often, but... sometimes when I displeased him, or Aunt Fl-Florence, he would lose his temper. The l-last time I tr-tried to run away, he blackened my eye and spl-split my lip." "Did he?" Sebastian was silent for a long moment, and then he spoke with chilling softness. "I'm going to tear him limb from limb." "I don't want that," Evie said earnestly. "I-I just want to be safe from him. From all of them." Sebastian drew his head back to look down into her flushed face. "You are safe," he said in a low voice. He lifted one of his hands to her face, caressing the plane of her cheekbone, letting his fingertip follow the trail of pale golden freckles across the bridge of her nose. As her lashes fluttered downward, he stroked the slender arcs of her brows, and cradled the side of her face with his palm. "Evie," he murmured. "I swear on my life, you will never feel pain from my hands. I may prove a devil of a husband in every other regard... but I wouldn't hurt you that way. You must believe that." The delicate nerves of her skin drank in sensations thirstily... his touch, the erotic waft of his breath against her lips. Evie was afraid to open her eyes, or to do anything that might interrupt the moment. "Yes," she managed to whisper. "Yes... I---" There was the sweet shock of a probing kiss against her lips... another... She opened to him with a slight gasp. His mouth was hot silk and tender fire, invading her with gently questing pressure. His fingertips traced over her face, tenderly adjusting the angle between them.

Before she could speak again, he asked, “Is that my cloak?” “Yes.” She held it out to him, but he didn’t take it. “Why did you bring it back? I realize it is worn, but—” “No.” She almost gasped the word, and when she reached out to touch his chest, her hand brushed hardness. She snatched her hand back. “It isn’t that, sir. You were most generous to allow me to borrow it.” “It was a gift. Yours to keep.” His heartfelt statement shook her down to her boots. “I thank you. It kept me warm. I…it was on my bed and kept me comfortable during this last cold snap.” “Then why did you bring it back?” he asked, his voice gentle. “My parents insisted I return it.” His lips tightened, and muscles in his jaw worked. He turned away and stared out the window. “I see. Though I’m not surprised.” “I’m sorry, sir. I did not mean to offend.” “Offend?” Once more he turned towards her, and his hand came up. She flinched and drew back. He frowned, but his voice was soft. “Did you think I was going to hit you?” He clasped her shoulders and leaned in close. “Listen to me. I’d never raise a hand to you. I don’t hurt women or children. I’ve never beaten a woman or child, nor will I suffer anyone to do so.” Realizing that she trembled from head to toe, Adrenia closed her eyes and took a shivering breath. Her muscles, which had locked tight, eased. “Goddess.” He rubbed her shoulders. “I was only reaching to do this.” He lifted his left hand slowly and touched her uneven hairline. “Who did this to you, Adrenia?” When she wouldn’t answer, he continued. “Were your parents angry about this cloak?” His hand brushed over her hair, then her cheek in a touch that made her want to melt like a kitten under a caress. “They say it isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to take a gift from a soldier.” His eyebrows went up. “Even an officer?” “Not any man.” He sniffed. “It’s as I told your father. No daughter of mine, no woman who belonged to me would go without protection from the elements.

He was going to kiss her. She was going to let him. Falco’s face blurred in the darkness as he closed the distance between them. And then…it wasn’t Falco she was about to kiss. It was Luca. She lunged backward in her seat, causing the gondola to lurch to one side. Falco’s eyes snapped open. “What happened?” Cass had no idea what to say. “I--I thought I saw something,” she stammered out. Falco glanced around, as if reaffirming that it would be impossible to see anything in the blackness under the bridge. “A vampire?” His voice was thick with sarcasm. Cass looked away. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.” “Oh. I think I understand.” Falco turned slowly away from Cass. He dragged his fingers across the shiny black wood as he moved toward the back of the boat. “Forgive me, Signorina. I didn’t mean to overstep my station.” “No. I--it’s not that,” Cass said. Her heart was trembling in her chest. Falco didn’t answer. He vaulted over the side of the boat and headed for the steps leading up to the bridge. Cass followed him, struggling to lift her skirts over the gondola’s edge. She fumbled her way up the uneven steps, feeling the dampness of the stones seeping through the bottom of her suede shoes. Falco stood in the middle of the bridge, his forearms resting on the railing. He stared down at the water so intently that Cass thought maybe it was his turn to see murderers and poisonous serpents beneath the surface. But no, Falco didn’t deal in superstition. Cass cleared her throat. Her chest felt as though there was a giant fist around it, squeezing. “Lately I always think I’m doing the wrong thing.” Falco nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the water. His jaw was tight. “You should stop thinking so much. Do what feels right.

Often, when the goal is daunting and the journey arduous, there is a sense of having achieved the goal, even if it’s really only a milestone. You see that with students who work so hard to make it to the IITs and IIMs and experience burnout once they get there. Sadly, they mistake a milestone for a goal and they feel that their destination has already arrived. It is true of young Indian cricketers who sometimes experience such joy and relief at being selected that they are not ready for what follows. Even companies are known to become complacent once they become market leaders. It’s easier for the number two and three to remain motivated since there is still an unfulfilled feeling and a higher sense of purpose. That is why managing success is always more difficult than achieving it and staying number one is more difficult than becoming number one.

At that point in time, Gokul Rajaram was a legendary éminence grise in the ad-tech world. The so-called godfather of AdSense, Google’s secondary gold mine after AdWords, Gokul was a constant presence on the conference circuit, and an omnipresent adviser or investor in just about every advertising technology company worth talking about. He too had come to Facebook via a small acqui-hire, though really that had been just a career breather between his time at Google and his hiring at Facebook. University at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), followed by an American MBA, he was your standard-issue Indian techie, and probably that country’s most valuable export after steel and Tata Motors. “What’s the first thing you would change about Facebook Ads if we hired you?” There was about as much polish and prologue to Gokul as that of a North Korean diplomat. “I’d build a conversion-tracking system. It’s unbelievable you don’t have one yet.” A conversion-tracking system is software that tells you if an advertisement has worked in driving a conversion (or “sale” in marketing-speak), and lets you retweak your marketing campaigns based on performance. An ads system without conversion tracking is like a car without rearview mirrors; nay, it’s like a car without even rear or side windows. All you can see is forward, merrily driving along, not even understanding what’s behind you or what you just ran over. It’s a danger to yourself and others, and it was a sign of just how out-of-touch Facebook Ads management was that this somehow never got prioritized. From Gokul’s smile the conclusion was clearly . . . right answer! And so the conversation went, traversing various potential aspects of the Facebook Ads system, and what the company needed to build. It was a giddy Gokul—I’d soon learn he was almost always giddy—who escorted me out the door. The boys and I had arrived separately, assuming we’d get out at different times, and separately did we go back to the GrokPad. There, we compared notes. MRM and Argyris weren’t exactly rousing in their reviews of the experience. In fact, it was clear that the fascist vibe the company gave off had very much rubbed them the wrong way. They had never really liked Facebook, as either product or company, going back to our visits to their developer events. The daylong hazing had done nothing to charm them.

I was quite pleased with myself, and sent in my office note to the ZM. Later that day, he called me into his cabin, flung my suggestions on the table and growled, “Thank your stars, Kashmiri Lal, that my son got into IIT today and I am in a good mood, else I would have fired you for these idiotic suggestions. Now leave, before I change my mind.

The city’s ultimate solution to the problem of racial migration was “intensive centralization’ Which is to say the erection of high-rise Bauhaus-style Wohnmaschinen on a massive scale beginning with the erection of the Robert Taylor Homes just south of IIT in the years from 1960 to 1962 and marching south with the same kind of building for the next two miles. Eventually some 27,000 Chicago blacks were re-settled on the quarter-mile-wide strip between the railroad tracks to the east and the Dan Ryan Expressway to the west. There the blacks from Mississippi and their descendants for the next two or three generations settled into welfare dependency as wards of the state that had brought them north as cheap labor but didn’t know what to do with them when the jobs that were supposed to employ them left town. The inherent weaknesses in the black family might have fared no better had they been left to develop in bungalows surrounded by trees and grass, but after a while it became clear that the Bauhaus formula for dealing with living arrangements according to materialist principles exacerbated the problems the sharecroppers brought north with them.

Is that what you want, Sophie, dear? To Ascend?” Sophie stammered. “I—it is what I have always wanted, Mrs. Branwell, but not if it meant I had to leave your service. You have been so kind to me, I would not wish to repay that by abandoning you—” “Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “I can find another maid; I cannot find another Sophie.

In his 1923 book I and Thou, the philosopher Martin Buber draws a distinction between what he calls I-It and I-Thou ways of seeing. In I-It, the other (a thing or a person) is an “it” that exists only as an instrument or means to an end, something to be appropriated by the “I.” A person who only knows I-It will never encounter anything outside himself because he does not truly “encounter.” Buber writes that such a person “only knows the feverish world out there and his feverish desire to use it…When he says You, he means: You, my ability to use!”9 In contrast to I-it, I-Thou recognizes the irreducibility and absolute equality of the other. In this configuration, I meet you “thou” in your fullness by giving you my total attention; because I neither project nor “interpret” you, the world contracts into a moment of a magical exclusivity between you and me.

I believe in pure love, I-Thou, love without boundaries or categories or conditions or making someone less than you are; not treating people like they are foreign or lower or things, I-It.

Be passionate, no matter what you do.

If someone is praising you, rather than being amused,you need to be aware.

Mansik urja ka durupyog hi mansik awsad ka Karn h

Bahane aksar wahi log bnate h,jinhe kamyabi hasil krne ka shaunk nhi, Or jinhe kamyabi hasil krne ka shaunk h, Unhe bahane bnane ka waqt nhi

Namumkin kuch bhi nhi h,hum wah sab kuch kr skte hain jo hum soch sakte h,wah Bhi soch sakte h jo hmne kabhi socha nhi ki sab kuch sambhav h

Jinke naseeb unche or mst hote h, Imtehaan bhi unke jabardast hote h..

Mai vo khel nhi khelta jisme jitna fix ho,kyunki jeetne ka mja tab h jab harne ka risk ho.

Mindset is everything.

Khud se jitne ki zid h khud ko hi hrana h m bheed nhi hu duniya ki mere andr zamana h

People who succeed at highest level are not lucky,they are Just doing something differently than anyone else

You do know who I am, don’t you, Trip? You understand how serious I am about protecting my clients while paving their way into history. Can you really be that stupid to think I would take you at your word? I protect my investments…even from themselves.” “I have a wife, daughters.” “You should have thought of them before you hired two sex workers in less than twenty-four hours.” He was visibly shaking now. “I warned you what would happen if you crossed me,” I reminded him. “I didn’t cross you. This isn’t what it looks like,” he sputtered. “The girl you hired this morning? She turned eighteen last week. Your oldest daughter is what? Sixteen?” I asked. “I-It’s a sex addiction. I’ll get help,” Trip decided. “We’ll keep it quiet, I’ll get treatment, and everything will be fine.” I shook my head. “I see it’s not sinking in yet. You’re finished. There’s no way for you to throw yourself on the mercy of the court of public opinion, because they’ll eat you alive. Especially seeing as how you missed the vote on veterans benefits because you were paying to have your cock sucked.” Little beads of sweat dotted his forehead. “You threw it all away because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. Your career, your future. Your family. Your wife will leave you. Your daughters are old enough that they’ll hear every salacious detail of Daddy’s extracurricular sex life. They’ll never look at you the same again.” I nodded at the open folder in his lap. “I’ve already had a press release drafted about how my firm was forced to sever ties with you after learning about your sexual exploits.” He closed his eyes, and I had to turn away when his lip began to tremble. “Please. Don’t do this. I’ll do anything,” he begged. He was yet another weak, pathetic addition to the long list of men who risked everything just to get off. “I’ll give you a choice. You’ll resign from Congress immediately. You’ll go home and tell your wife and daughters that you had an epiphany and that your time together is precious. You don’t want to work a job that keeps you away from them so much anymore. You’ll go to fucking therapy. Or you won’t. You’ll save your marriage or you won’t. One thing you won’t do is ever cheat on your wife again. Because if you do, I’ll deliver copies of every photo and every video to your wife, your parents, your church, and every member of the media between here and fucking Atlanta.” Trip put his head in his hands and let out a broken moan. I almost wished he’d put up more of a fight, then smothered that feeling. “Get out. Go home, and don’t ever give me a reason to share the information I’ve collected.” “I can be better. I can do better,” he said, rising from the chair like a puppet on strings. “I don’t give a fuck,” I said, leading the way to the door. He was weak. No one could build a foundation on weakness.

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I-It’s a sex addiction.

Hey man! Ok, I have some awesome news for you! First of all: We found some vintage audio training cassettes. Dude, these are like, prehistoric! I think they were like, training tapes, for like other employees or something like that. So, I thought we could like, have them playing, like over the speakers while people walk through the attraction? Dude, that makes this feel, LEGIT man. But I have an even better surprise for you, and you're not gonna believe this! We found one. A REAL one. Uh, oh uhm, gotta go man! W-well look I-It's in there somewhere, I-I'm sure you'll see it. Okay, I'll leave you with some of this great audio I found. Talk to you late man!" Click! "Oh, Hello! Hello, hello! Uh, welcome to your new career as a performer/entertainer, for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Uh, these tapes will provide you, with much needed information on how to handle/climb into/climb out of, mascot costumes. Right now, we have 2 specially designed suits, that

Just remember that you are tougher than any problem. Just keep putting in your best and you shall tame the beast that is the JEE.

any person with the brains to get into the IIT’s and the gumption to get himself to the United States was capable of all manner of miracles.

IIT वालों का ऐसे तो दुनिया भर में तमाम चीजें बनाने को लेकर बड़ा नाम है लेकिन हिंदुस्तान में IIT में पढ़ने वाले वाले लड़के मुहल्ले भर के लड़के-लड़कियों को कभी motivate करने तो कभी जलील करने के काम भी आते हैं। motivate ऐसे ही कि “फलाने भईया को देखो IIT से पढ़ें हैं और अब अमरीका में dollar में लाखों कमाते हैं , तुम भी मेहनत करो और भईया जैसे बनो” और जलील ऐसे कि “मिश्रा जी के लड़के का फिर नहीं हुआ IIT में, दो साल से कोचिंग कर रहा था , कमजोर है पढ़ने में

वैसे अगर देखा जाए कि IIT, NIT और प्राइवेट इंजीन्यरिंग कॉलेज में सबसे बड़ा फर्क क्या है तो वो फ़र्क होगा walk-in का । बड़े कॉलेज में कैम्पस में ही सब की नौकरी लग जाती है तो वो लोग कभी समझ नहीं पाते है असली लड़ाई असल में कैम्पस से बाहर निकलने के बाद शुरू होती है।

When you say, “Whoa! I knew I was good. But I didn’t know I was this good.” After that it became a complete obsession for me. I was going to go to an IIT. My dad would come into my room at three in the morning, and I’d be studying! He would say, “Swaroop, you must go to sleep, you know.”’ Kittu,

Ride your rainbow from end to end, enjoy each hue, seek ii'ts legend.

I observed all the students at IIT. They came from all parts of India, toppers in their respective schools. Few had come there to research science or learn about technology. Most had come to achieve their middle-class dream—a better life. And that is what the IITs promised them.

WhatsApp user base crosses 70 million in India The total user base for WhatsApp is 600 million, according to a a vice-president of the company. Photo: AFP By PTI | 328 words Mumbai: Mobile messenger service WhatsApp's user base in India has grown to 70 million active users, which is over a 10th of its global users, its business head Neeraj Arora said on Sunday. "We have 70 million active users here who use the application at least once a month," Arora, a vice-president with WhatsApp, said at the fifth annual INK Conference in Mumbai. He said the total user base for the company, which was bought by Facebook in a $19-billion deal earlier this year, is 600 million. With over a 10th of the users from the country, India is one of the biggest markets for WhatsApp, he said, adding connecting billions of people in markets like India and Brazil is the aim of the company. Arora, an alumnus of Indian Institute of Technology (IIT)-Delhi and ISB Hyderabad, said WhatsApp will continue to hold a distinct identity even after the takeover by Facebook and will not get merged with the social networking giant. He said WhatsApp, which has only 80 employees, will benefit through learnings from the social networking giant. Arora, who first heard of WhatsApp as a business development executive for the Internet search firm Google Inc. and later joined as its business head, said it took two years to stitch the $19 billion deal announced this April. Interestingly, Arora said he would have paid a fraction of the sum to buy WhatsApp three years back. It would have been in "low tens of million" dollars, he said stressing that the company has grown a lot since then. Arora said the user-base has doubled to 600 million from the 30 million when he joined three years ago. The company has flourished because of its focus on the product, rather than the business side of things, he said. "The founders wanted to develop a cool product which will be used by millions and did not have business things like valuations," he said, stressing that this continues to be a motto of the company.

With over a 10th of the users from the country, India is one of the biggest markets for WhatsApp, he said, adding connecting billions of people in markets like India and Brazil is the aim of the company. Arora, an alumnus of Indian Institute of Technology (IIT)-Delhi and ISB Hyderabad, said WhatsApp will continue to hold a distinct identity even after the takeover by Facebook and will not get merged with the social networking giant. He said WhatsApp, which has only 80 employees, will benefit through learnings from the social networking giant. Arora, who first heard of WhatsApp as a business development executive for the Internet search firm Google Inc. and later joined as its business head, said it took two years to stitch the $19 billion deal announced this April.

answer is, that the nronhet must w-iit with patience and faith: that all should be set r'ght in due time; ard the enemies of G~d and his people punished accord ing to their deserts.

Alla sfida mondiale dei robot c’è una star ed è «made in Italy» Lorenza Castagneri | 454 parole L’umanoide del futuro, il robot che potrebbe sostituire l’uomo in molte emergenze, è italiano. Ha l’altezza di un corazziere - 1 metro e 85 - e mani agilissime. Pesa più di 100 chili, sa camminare, può aprire le porte, usare il trapano, afferrare un oggetto dietro la schiena senza voltarsi, perché ha braccia capaci di piegarsi all’indietro e piegarsi in avanti per raccogliere un oggetto. Si chiama Walkman (nelle foto) e l’hanno inventato all’Iit, l’Istituto italiano di tecnologia di Genova, in collaborazione con il Centro di ricerche «E. Piaggio» dell’Università di Pisa e grazie al contributo della Commissione Europea. Tra meno di un mese parteciperà a una competizione internazionale lanciata dalla Darpa, l’agenzia per la ricerca avanzata del dipartimento della Difesa americano. Obiettivo: definire gli standard tecnologici per i robot da impiegare in caso di disastri ambientali, alluvioni, terremoti e incendi. La gara si chiama «Darpa robotics challenge» e si svolgerà il 5 e il 6 giugno a Pomona, Los Angeles. Walkman e gli scienziati che lo guideranno saranno gli unici a rappresentare il nostro Paese e l’Europa. L’invito a prendere parte alla competizione è arrivato dagli organizzatori a fine 2013: «Considerata la forza delle idee dell’Iit, siamo certi che la sua partecipazione aumenterà la qualità della competizione», ha scritto Gill Pratt, responsabile dell’evento a Nikolaos Tsagarakis, che guiderà il team genovese. Da allora è cominciata una corsa contro il tempo per mettere a punto Walkman, che dovrà vedersela con le creature messe a punto da altre 24 squadre, tra cui la stessa Darpa e la Nasa, provenienti non solo dagli Usa, ma anche da Giappone, Corea, Cina e Hong Kong. I robot dovranno dimostrare, tra l’altro, di sapersi muovere e prendere decisioni in autonomia, salire le scale, oltrepassare ostacoli. Persino guidare un veicolo tipo Ranger: la prova più complicata che attende i ricercatori dell’Iit. E per rendere la situazione più realistica, in più fasi delle prove, le comunicazioni robot-scienziati saranno interrotte. «Siamo orgogliosi. Walkman è la dimostrazione che anche l’Europa, e su tutti l’Italia, gioca un ruolo decisivo per lo sviluppo del settore», ha commentato Roberto Cingolani, il direttore scientifico dell’Iit. Tanto che presto il robot sarà messo alla prova in situazioni di emergenza vere, definite con la Protezione civile. Ma quella della Darpa sarà una sfida che coinvolgerà anche i team che comandano i robot. Per individuare i primi tre classificati - a cui andrà un finanziamento di 3 milioni e mezzo di dollari - saranno valutati il software e l’interfaccia di controllo, oltre che le tecnologie per garantire alla macchina equilibrio, agilità ed efficienza energetica.

We can talk about it. If it’s too much, we will talk tomorrow and I will try like hell to understand. But I would like you to stay so I can hold you, not for you, but for me. I need to have you in my arms right now. I’m shaky after seeing you with Layla and what you just told me about your last school. Can you stay…for me?” The vulnerability in his urgent request had me raising my head to search his face. There was no anger waiting for me. Frustration had been replaced with worry, creasing his brow. The corners of his mouth were downturned, not in anger but sadness. Had I gotten him wrong? He wasn’t shoving me out the door. He was doing the opposite, asking me to stay. “You’re not breaking up with me?” I blurted. Ivan jerked back as if he’d been slapped. “Fuck no. I love you. I would not break up with you.” “I—It seemed like you were breaking up with me. We can’t come to an agreement about something important, so how can we stay together?

God,” I pant. “I like when you do that.” “What?” “Push me around. Tell me what to do.” “Good.” “Hey,” Zack says indignantly. “You don’t let me tell you what to do! I told you to get on your hands and knees the other day, and you told me to make violent love to myself!” “I-it’s not hot when you do it.” He’s outraged. “Excuse me? Everything is hot when I do it!

Well, you know, Claire, it was six years. And we saw each other only three times, and only just for the day that last time. It wouldn’t be unusual if … I mean, everyone knows doctors and nurses are under tremendous stress during emergencies, and … well, I … it’s just that … well, I’d understand, you know, if anything, er, of a spontaneous nature

I-It Relationships In 1923, the great Jewish theologian Martin Buber wrote a brilliant but difficult to read book, called I and Thou.7 Buber described the most healthy or mature relationship possible between two human beings as an “I-Thou” relationship. In such a relationship I recognize that I am made in the image of God and so is every other person on the face of the earth. This makes them a “Thou” to me. Because of that reality, every person deserves respect—that is, I treat them with dignity and worth. I do not dehumanize or objectify them. I affirm them as having a unique and separate existence apart from me.

English: "Our actions are contemplation of the universe." Česky: „Naše konání je přemýšlením vesmíru.

So you expected some hot girl? O-oh... I-it's just me, Tomoko ... sorry

Even if everything about IIT is correct, why should it feel like anything to have a maximum of integrated information? Why should a system that instantiates the five essential properties of consciousness—intrinsic existence, composition, information, integration, and exclusion—form a conscious experience? IIT might correctly describe aspects of systems that support consciousness. But, at least in principle, skeptics might be able to imagine a system that has all these properties but which still doesn’t feeling like anything.

For previous generations, progress in life so far would have meant going through the motions prescribed by caste and class: together, the imperatives of education (inevitably vocational), marriage (nearly always arranged, with love regarded as a folly of callow youth), parenthood and professional career (with the government) imposed order, without too many troubling questions about their purpose and meaning. Regional and caste background dictated culinary and sartorial habits: kurta-pyjamas and saris or shalwar-kameezes at home, drab Western-style clothes outside; an unchanging menu of dal, vegetables, rotis and rice leavened in some households with non-alcoholic drinks (Aseem’s first publication in the IIT literary magazine was Neruda-style odes to Rooh Afza and Kissan’s orange squash, Complan, Ovaltine and Elaichi Horlicks). We belonged to a relatively daring generation whose members took on the responsibility of crafting their own lives: working in private jobs, marrying for love, eating pasta, pizza and chow mein as well as parathas, and drinking cola and beer, at home, taking beach vacations rather than going on pilgrimages, and wearing jeans and T-shirts rather than the safari suits that had come to denote style to the preceding generation of middle-class Indians. Our choices were expanded far beyond what my parents or Aseem’s could even imagine.

When we treat people as objects, we dehumanize them. We do something really terrible to their souls and to our own. Martin Buber, an Austrian-born philosopher, wrote about the differences between an I-it relationship and an I-you relationship. An I-it relationship is basically what we create when we are in transactions with people whom we treat like objects--people who are simply there to serve us or complete a task. I-you relationships are characterized by human connection and empathy.

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The spice you used in the pâte... that was allspice, right?" ALLSPICE The allspice plant is a tropical, mid-canopy tree. The leaves are dried fruits are often used as a cooking spice. It was given the name "allspice" because it combines the flavor of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. "It's a convenient spice for nullifying the smelliness of some ingredients. You used it to get rid of the smell from the chicken liver, right?" "O-oh! Um... Yes, but..." ? "I mean, for the last two days... all of you have tasted a whole lot of dishes for judging, right? And, um... allspice can be used not just to eliminate smells but also to aid digestion. I-I thought maybe...um... i-it would be nice if I could make a dish that's easier on the tummy..." WAAAAAAAAHHHH! "I knew it! I knew my darling Megumi was the best!" "Yes. Our eyes do not deceive us. We were right!

Oh! But here! I brought some Chinese recipes I found that I thought might be useful." "Huh? Wait a sec, Tadokoro. Aren't you going to help out at the booth the Polaris crew is putting together? Isshiki Senpai must have invited you." "Hmm? Yeah, he did. The Home-Cooking Society is going to have a booth too. But I turned both of them down." "Huh? Why?" "Well, because I thought you could use the help, of course... ... AH! Oh! Um! I-I-I know that I'll probably just get in the way! I mean, i-it's me, right? I'm so sorry I just assumed that I could be helpful to you! B-but, um! I-I did use to help with the customers at my family's little inn... and during the Stagiare Challenge, I did have the chance to learn a little bit about customer service, so I kinda think I might not be totally useless, and... and, um! S-so, um, y-you see... if you happen to need a little help with your booth, I, um... I'd be happy to..." "Tadokoro. You... ... are the best." "R-really?" "Okay! Let's do this! Let's cook something up, Tadokoro!" "Okay!

What an impact! Wrapped together in strips of piecrust... ... the two distinct layers of stuffing each amplify the deliciousness of the other! The top layer is a chicken mousse! Tender, juicy cooked chicken... ... put through a food processor with heavy cream and seasonings until it was a silky-smooth puree! Its thick yet gentle savory flavor, accented with a touch of sweetness, slides across the tongue like satin! And the bottom layer is a beef meat loaf! Its flavors are perfectly paired with both the creamy chicken mousse and the demi-glace. What a frighteningly defined dish!" "Okay, but he used convenience store food for all that?! There's no way it could be that delicious..." "Oh, but it is. His skill elevated the ingredients to new heights." "Um, i-it really wasn't all that much. All I did was, well... To give the chicken mousse a more luxuriant texture, I carefully mixed in some egg whites beaten into a stiff meringue... And then added a little mushroom paste (Duxelles) to boost its richness. Canned mushrooms have a mild funk to them, so to get rid of that smell, I minced and sautéed them until nearly all their moisture was gone. I also reduced some red wine as far as I could, leaving behind just its umami components, and added that to the demi-glace. It isn't the best, but I had only cheap ingredients to work with. What about that isn't "all that much"?! "The main common ingredients he used were a precooked hamburger patty, chicken salad and a frozen piecrust. They're prepackaged foods anyone can buy, designed to be tasty right out of the box. In other words... They're average foods with completely average flavors! Use them as they are and you'll never pass this trial! Out of all of them, he singled out the ones that could stand up to haute cuisine cooking... ... and melded them together into a harmonious whole that brought out their best qualities while eliminating anything inferior! It's a level of quality only someone of Eishi Tsukasa's skill could reach!

The cause-effect information is defined as the smaller (minimum) of the cause-information and the effect-information. If either one is zero, the cause-effect information is likewise zero. That is, the mechanism's past must be able to determine its present, which, in turn, must be able to determine its future. The more the past and the future are specified by the present state, the higher the mechanism's cause-effect power. Note that this usage of 'information' is very different from its customary meaning in engineering and science introduced by Claude Shannon. Shannon information, which is always assessed from the external perspective of an observer, quantifies how accurately signals transmitted over some noisy communication channel, such as a radio link or an optical cable, can be decoded. Data that distinguishes between two possibilities, OFF and ON, carries 1 bit of information. What that information is, though - the result of a critical blood test or the least significant bit in a pixel in the corner of a holiday photo - completely depends on the context. The meaning of Shannon information is in the eye of the beholder, not in the signals themselves. Shannon information is observational and extrinsic. Information in the sense of integrated information theory reflects a much older Aristotelian usage, derived from the Latin in-formare, 'to give form or shape to.' Integrated information gives rise to the cause-effect structure, a form. Integrated information is causal, intrinsic, and qualitative: it is assessed from the inner perspective of a system, based on how its mechanisms and its present state shape its own past and future. How the system constrains its past and future states determines whether the experience feels like azure blue or the smell of wet dog.

I picked up a brochure in disgust. I took a blade from my shaving kit, cut out the cover pictures of the IIT-selected students, and ripped them to shreds.

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I-it is thoreena,” I stutter to hide my initial confusion. “A small rose that grows wild in the mountains. It has only a few flowers; mostly it is leaves and thorns.

All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an “I-it” relationship for an “I-thou” relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things.

Iit is not the answers which define us...but often the questions. Faith Mortimer

The Sagrada Familia church in Barcelona is taking longer to build than the pyramids. Iit was started in 1882 and it is still under construnction.

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Because you despise me! You think me beneath you. I could see it in your eyes, and I…God, I would have done anything to earn your respect, your attention. I just wanted you to look at me.” Sylvia floundered for a moment. “When you do, I…It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating. You’re like something out of a nightmare.

I’m good. I’m fine! I’m great! You good? said Nicky, sounding uncharacteristically flustered. All good, said Bonnie. What’s going on? I…It’s nothing really. I seem to have misplaced my pain meds and I’m getting my period. I think I left them at a friend’s house or something. She was straining to sound casual, but Bonnie could hear the effort behind her words. The thought flashed instinctively across her mind that she was lying, but she pushed it away. Nicky had no reason to lie to her. You can’t get more from the doctor? she asked. It’s July Fourth weekend. Everywhere’s closed. Bonnie sighed. Poor Nicky, it was terrible timing. The emergency room? she offered. And lose the whole day? You know it will be a shit show there. Nicky took a deep breath down the phone. Do you think…you could get some from the gym, Bon? I don’t need much. Just a few pills to get me through the weekend.