Init Quotes

tanith: have you called the police? fergus: they, uh, they said theyd call by this afternoon. tanith: tell them not to bother... im his doctor. beryl: what kind of doctor dresses in brown leather? tanith: the kind that looks good init

You know, the whole thing about perfectionism. The perfectionism is very dangerous. Because of course if your fidelity to perfectionism is too high, you never do anything. Because doing anything results in...it's actually kind of tragic because you sacrifice how gorgeous and perfect it is in your head for what it really is. And there were a couple of years where I really struggled with that.

Jackson snorted. And Selena play-slapped his chest, like he was her mischievous boyfriend. At that, the inital mrowr pfft pfft I'd felt transformed into I will cut a bitch.

Until one is committed there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initative or creation, there is one elementary truth...that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves. too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in ones's favor all manner of incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man would have believed would have come his way. Whatever you think you can do or believe you can do, begin it. Action has magic, grace, and power in it.

And yet the world we live in—its divisions and conflicts, its widening gap between rich and poor, its seemingly inexplicable outbursts of violence—is shaped far less by what we celebrate and mythologize than by the painful events we try to forget. Leopold's Congo is but one of those silences of history.

Loneliness is the best state I can be in.It enables me to listen to my heart.

The Fever Bird The fever bird sand out last night. I could not sleep, try as I might. My brain was split, my spirit raw. I looked into the garden, saw The shadow of the amaltas Shake slightly on the moonlit grass Unseen, the bird cried out its grief, Its lunacy, without relief: Three notes repeated closer, higher, Soaring, then sinking down like fire Only to breathe the night and soar, As crazed, as desperate, as before. I shivered in the midnight heat And smelt the sweat that soaked my sheet. And now tonight I hear again The call that skewers though my brain, The call, the brain-sick triple note-- A cone of pain stuck inits throat. I am so tired I could weep. Mad bird, for God's sake let me sleep Why do you cry like one possessed? When will you rest? When will you rest? Why wait each night till all but I Lie sleeping in the house, then cry? Why do you scream into my ear What no one else but I can hear?

The land is like poetry: it is inexplicably coherent, it is transcendent inits meaning, and it has the power to elevate a consideration of human life.

Iyan ang hirap sa usapang ito. Ano ba naman ang kamuwangan ng mga pipituhing taon sa mga beauty contests? Laro lang ang tingin nila sa lahat ng bagay at komo laro, gagawin lang nila pag gusto nila. Pag nasa mood sila. Karaniwan na ina lan ang may gustong mapalaban ang anak nila, masabing kabilang ito sa magaganda maging ang pinakamaganda kung maaari. Baya'n mo Baya'n mong mabilad siya sa init, mapagod siya, lagnatin siya, sipunin siya. Gusto ng nanay ang tropeo, gusto ng nanay ang karangalan.

Now, God isn’t something I believe in—it’s something I feel all of us soaking in.

Mac's heart thumped against her gold, initaled locked. In fact fact, her heart hadn't beated that quickly since she was thirty seconds away from being the top bidder for vintage YSL lace-up heels on eBay. This was a coup.

It all made me realize I wasn't the only one who wasn't sure they belonged. There was no one right way to fit in--it seemed like everyone was finding their own place, even if that place was on the edge of things. Still, there had to be ways to make it easier.

1) I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk I fall in. I am lost... I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out. 2) I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I'm in the same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out. 3) I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in...it's a habit My eyes are open; I know where I am; It is my fault. I get out immediately. 4) I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it. 5) I walk down another street.

The Lord doesn’t want your service as much as He wants you. He loves you more than He loves what you can do for Him. Now, that’s an important point to make, because in our day and age—especially in the type of church atmosphere that I grew up in—it’s all about service, a push to do something for God. It’s true that you were created for God’s pleasure and glory, but God ’s acceptance of you is not related to what you do for Him. The Lord sacrificed Himself so He could have you, not your service.

Home is not the country we stand in—it’s us. Home is the future we have been planning and dreaming of. We can build it anywhere.

The thing about the superrich is that they always need more space with no people in it.

I try to cling to that dream, to the certainty that everything will feel as inf inite as it does now

My grandmother called it bearing witness. She'd sit on the porch with her sister and talk the night away. Sometimes gossiping, sometimes praying. I'd hear them confide in each other...it feels good to know someone knows your story, that someone took you in...it's how we heal.

In the American South, there are hundreds of Civil War battle monuments and preserved plantation manor houses for every exhibit that in any way marks the existence of slavery. And yet the world we live in—its divisions and conflicts, its widening gap between rich and poor, its seemingly inexplicable outbursts of violence—is shaped far less by what we celebrate and mythologize than by the painful events we try to forget. Leopold’s Congo is but one of those silences of history.

Coraline went over to the window and watched the rain come down. It wasn’t the kind of rain you could go out in—it was the other kind, the kind that threw itself down from the sky and splashed where it landed.

She slid the book in—it was miscategorized, if you ask me, since Mary Westmacott is a pseudonym for Agatha Christie, but what’s in a name?—turned and frowned

His eyes are on mine as he tips back his glass a second time. And something about that gaze, the way it drinks me in-it curls my toes within my slippers.

Home is not the country we stand in—it’s us. Home is the future we have been planning and dreaming of.

Angel’s trumpet. Beautiful, in’it? Eating these flowers makes your troubles go away. Problem is, too much will kill ye.” She laughed. “It got its name because it’s the last thing you’ll see before ascending into heaven.

One participant described her frustration when she joined the Asian American Association in high school: 'I totally did not fit in...It kind of made me mad because I looked like them, so I felt like I identified with them, but once I got in, I learned I really don't at all.' Caught between the expectations of two groups, [transracial adoptees] often felt rejected by White people due to physical differences and by people of their birth ethnicity due to lack of language and cultural knowledge.

It all had to do with time. "Time can be overcome," Mircea Eliade wrote. That's what it's all about. The great mystery of Eleusis, of the Orphies, of the early Christians, of Sarpis, of the Greco-Roman mystery religions, of Hermes Trismegistos, of the Renaissance Hermetic Alchemists, of the Rose Cross Brotherhood, of Apollonius of Tyana, of Simon Magus, of Asklepios, of Paracelsus, of Bruno, consists of the abolition of time. The techniques are there. Dante discusses them in the Comedy. It has to do with the loss of amnesia; when forgetfulness is lost, true memory spreads out backward and forward, into the past and into the future, and also, oddly, into alternate universes; it is orthogonal as well as linear. This is why Elijah could be said correctly to be immortal; he had entered the Upper Realm (as Fat calls it) and is no longer subject to time. Time equals what the ancients called "astral determinism." The purpose of the mysteries was to free the initate from astral determinism, which roughly equals fate.

Tumatakbo siya, takbo nang takbo. Sa paa at ligalig ng isang pitong taong gulang na bata. Hinahabol ang kamusmusan sa mga bakanteng lote, eskinita, court, at lansangan. Dinadama ang hapdi ng init ng panahon sa tustadong balat. Nilalanghap ang alikabok. Nakikipagparamihan ng paltos at libag sa mga kalaro. Binabaka ang hikbi kung natutukso. Tinatawanan ang sarili kung nadadapa. Lulubugan ng araw nang nagwawala. At magigising siya, sa ulirat ng isang siyam na taong gulang na bata, gulong- gulo. Balot ng takot at pangamba ang loob ng bungo at sikmura sapagkat ang tabing na kurtina na ang nagsisilbing hudyat ng kaniyang dapit-hapon at hindi na ang mga ulap sa himpapawid.

When Lauren returned from lunch there were two dozen breathtakingly gorgeous red roses in a vase on her desk. She removed the card from its envelope and stared at it in blank amazement. On it was written "Thank you, sweetheart," followed by the initial J. When Lauren looked up,Nick was standing in the doorway,his shoulder casually propped against the frame. But there was nothing casual about the rigid set of his jaw or the freezing look in his gray eyes. "From a secret admirer?" he asked sarcastically. It was the first personal comment he had addressed to her in four days. "Not a secret admirer exactly," she hedged. "Who is he?" Lauren tensed. He seemed so angry she didn't think it would be wise to mention Jim's name. "I'm not absolutely certain." "You aren't absolutely certain?" he bit out. "How many men with the inital J are you seeing? How many of them think you're worth more than a hundred dollars in roses as a way of saying thank you?" "A hundred dollars?" Lauren repeated, so appalled at the expense that she completely overlooked the fact that Nick had obviously opened the envelope and read the card. "You must be getting better at it," he mocked crudely. Inwardly Lauren flinched, but she lifted her chin. "I have much better teachers now!" With an icy glance that raked her from head to toe,Nick turned on his heel and strode back into his office. For the rest of the day he left her completely alone.

Western people today may have acquaintances, but few have relationships that even remotely approximate the honest, vulnerable, committed, covenantal relationships that weave the body of Christ together in the New Testament. Related to this, while the New Testament views the church as a community of people who unite around a mission, who spend significant amounts of time together in study, worship, and ministry, and who help one another become “fully mature in Christ” (Col. 1:28; cf. Eph. 4:13; James 1:4), most Westerners assume church is a place they go to once a week to sit alongside strangers, sing a few songs, and listen to a message before returning to their insulated lives. So too, whereas the New Testament envisions the bride of Christ as a community of people who convince the world that Jesus is for real by the way our unity reflects and participates in the loving unity of the Trinity (John 17:20–23), the Western church today has been reduced to little more than a brief gathering of consumers who are otherwise unconnected and who attend the weekend event with hopes of getting something that will benefit their lives. From a kingdom perspective, this individualistic and impoverished consumer-driven view of the church is nothing short of tragic, as is the perpetual immaturity of the believers who are trapped in it. If we are serious about our covenant with Christ, we have no choice but to get serious about cultivating covenant relationships with other disciples. There are no individual brides of Christ. Jesus is not a polygamist! There

Moving on was always the end plan. New York,he remembered, was a fair distance away.It should be far enough. As for tonight, he was going to have a shot of whiskey in his tea to help smooth out the edges. Then by God, he was going to sleep if he had to bash himself over the head to accpmplish it. And he wasn't going to give Keeley another thought. The knock on the door had him cursing under his breath.Though she'd been doing well,his first worry was that the mare with bronchitis had taken a bad turn.He was already reaching for the boots he'd shed when he called out. "Come in,it's open.Is it Lucy then?" "No,it's Keeley." One brow lifted, she stood framed in the door. "But if you're expecting Lucy,I can go." The boots dangled from his fingertips, and those fingertips had gone numb. "Lucy's a horse," he managed to say. "She doesn't often come knocking on my door.

Theme is not imposed on the story but evoke from within it--initally an intuitive but finally an intellectual act on the part of the writer. The writer muses on the story idea to determine what it is in it that has attracted him, why it seems to him worth telling. Having determined that what interests him and what chiefly concerns the major character is the idea of nakedness (physical, psychological, perhaps spiritual), he toys with various ways of telling his story, thinks about what has been said before about nakedness (for instance, in traditional Christianity and pagan myth), broods on every image that occuurs to him, turning it over and over, puzzling on it, hunting for connections, trying to figure out--before he writes, while he writes, and in the process of revisions, what it is he really thinks. (How naked should we be or can we be? Is openness, vulnerability, a virtue or a defect? To what extent, with what important qualifications?) He finds himself bringing in black strippers, perhaps an Indian stripper, supported by imagery that recalls primitive nakedness. And so on. Only when he thinks out his story in this way does he achieve not just an alternative reality or, loosely, an imitation of nature, but true, firm art--fiction as serious thought.

Another time, he blew up his house in Bel Air. Someone was doing drugs there and they left the ether open. The fumes are like wavy cartoon lines; they find fire and then the fire follows the fumes back to the source and explodes. When it’s going critical, you can hear it go up in a whistle. Sly was back in a corner of his house, in a bathroom, and the ether had drifted from the kitchen. When he lit the pipe, it blew up the part of the house he was in—it was an addition, and it separated from the rest of the structure. When the smoke cleared, the bathroom had fallen clean off. He was standing on the edge of the house as cars drove by. He was standing on a ledge about six inches wide, with the door heading into the kitchen right next to him. He slid back into the house, closed the door, and stayed like that for more than a year.

With this single maneuver, Vincent engaged several important principles of influence. First, even those who did not take his suggestions felt Vincent had done them a favor by offering valuable information to help them order. Everyone felt grateful, and consequently, the rule of of reciprocation worked in his favor when it came time to decide on his gratuity. Besides hiking up the percentage of his tip, Vincent’s ploy also placed him in a position to increase the size of the party’s order. It established him as an authority on the current stores of the house: he clearly knew what was and wasn’t good that night. Moreover—and here is where seeming to argue against his own interests comes in—it proved him to be a trustworthy informant because he recommended dishes slightly less expensive than the one originally ordered. Rather than having appeared to try to line his own pockets, he seemed to have the customers’ best interests at heart.

Today, if a landowner feels the urge, he can put a backhoe into his hillside pasture and disembowel it. He can set his plow against the contours and let his wealth run down into the brook and into the sea. He can sell his topsoil off by the load and make a gravel pit of a hayfield. For all the interference he will get from the community, he can dig through to China, exploiting as he goes. With an ax in his hand he can annihilate the woods, leaving brush piles and stumps. He can build any sort of building he chooses on his land in the shape of a square or an octagon or a milk bottle. Except in zoned areas he can erect any sort of sign. Nobody can tell him where to head in—it is his land and this is a free country. Yet people are beginning to suspect that the greatest freedom is not achieved by sheer irresponsibility. The earth is common ground and we are all over-lords, whether we hold title or not; gradually the idea is taking form that the land must be held in safekeeping, that one generation is to some extent responsible to the next, and that it is contrary to the public good to allow an individual, merely because of his whims or his ambitions, to destroy almost beyond repair any part of the soil or the water or even the view.

You can use user data scripts and cloud-init directives or AWS OpsWorks lifecycle events to automatically set up new EC2 instances.[6] You can use simple scripts, configuration management tools like Chef or Puppet. AWS OpsWorks natively supports Chef recipes or Bash/PowerShell scripts. In addition, through custom scripts and the AWS APIs, or through the use of AWS CloudFormation support for AWS Lambda-backed custom resources

There is no fundamental law of physics that requires the early universe to sustaon sound waves. Yet if we think of the early universe during its plasma epoch as an instrument, acoustics shed light on structure formation. What Peebles and Yu discovered is that the CMB was a medium where acoustic oscillations were initated and sustained for 300,000 years. If this is the case, then we can apply all of the concepts just described to understand the consequences of the sound waves propagating through the CMB. Shortly after the Big Bang, energy imparted into the plasma from a previous epoch (most likely cosmic inflation) created sound waves.

It was past eight on a Friday night, so calling the Homeward to speak to Dr. Casbus was out of the question. The head nurse would never bother him this late. A sly idea struck me. Just because I couldn’t call the doctor, didn’t mean I couldn’t go see him in person. I’d gone to the Homeward at night before. On those nights when I’d been afraid for my mother, afraid she’d be scared, or missing me, or they would be hurting her with their treatments. The head nurse, Mrs. Huds didn’t like it, but Casbus always showed up to save me from her lecture on rules. He didn’t let me have a room to stay in—it wasn’t the Holiday Inn, but he’d let me stay long enough to dial down my fears a notch or two. And sometimes, I learned more about myself, like the last after-hours session, when Casbus had explained why I had holes in my memories.

Nakita ko. kahit liwanag ay nadarapa, Nakita ko. may mga ilaw at apoy din na lumuluha! Kaya, saan ako kakapit, Kung, kahit ang liwanag ay nakakasunog ang init?! ***from her poem 'GASERA

Again, though, they may be created by assignment anywhere a reference to the instance appears, even outside the class statement. Normally, all instance attributes are initialized in the __init__ constructor method; that way, later method calls can assume the attributes already exist.

On a related note, you can also code multiple __init__ methods within the same class, but only the last definition will be used; see Chapter 31 for more details on multiple method definitions.

Normally we create instance attributes by assigning them in class __init__ constructor methods, but this isn’t the only option.

Technically, instance creation first triggers the __new__ method, which creates and returns the new instance object, which is then passed into __init__ for initialization.

Inihehele siya ng tamang timpla ng mga ugoy, at nagsasalimbayang init at ihip ng hangin, inihahatid sa rurok ng kakaniyahan nang mga guniguni at alaala, deliryo'y dala sa pagbulusok na titighawin ng mga pawis, sisingilin ang ilang bahagi ng karanasan, habang pilit niya itong inaalala. Muling iisantabi't hahabi ang diwa, kung saan hindi siya maaring lumipad.

Gnocchi So, the recipe for gnocchi: A little over 1 pound of potatoes suitable for mashing; red potatoes are an option as well. Don’t peel them, so no excess moisture infiltrates the potatoes. Cook them in water with salt until they’re soft but not too soft. Halve and mash with a potato masher. Remove the peel from the masher after each potato. Add flour to the mashed potatoes. This can’t be quantified; add as much as goes in—it depends on the potato, on the degree to which it was cooked, on the moisture in the potato, and on the flour itself. In any case, the mashed potatoes must be warm. Stir until a warm, pleasant dough forms. Coat your hands with flour and form snakes with a diameter of about 1 centimeter (or nearly ½ an inch)—different from the semolina gnocchi rolls. Cut every roll into little pieces, almost 1 inch long—usually each piece should be closer to ½ an inch, but Aviram was afraid that would be too much work for me. Place the gnocchi on a floured tray, leaving some space around each one. Here, too, he spared me some work; I didn’t transfer each gnocco with a fork in order to create slits that would enhance cooking and soaking in the sauce. Drop the gnocchi in several batches, depending on quantity, into a large pot (I didn’t buy one; Michal loaned me a pot on the day of the dress rehearsal) full of water with salt, as when preparing pasta; use 1 tablespoon of salt per 4 cups of water or so, over a large flame. Once the gnocchi float, remove them with a skimmer into a serving bowl, pour the sauce that has been prepared in advance over them, and sprinkle parmesan. You can also prepare them slightly in advance and warm them in the oven.   ***

Be an enigma; when others attempt to control, echo '__init__() missing required positional arguments', allowing only sole self-control.

Five long centuries of absolutism -from Ivan the Terrible to the Soviet seventies- had left the Russian massed submissive. In their personal lives, I found them ingenious in beating the numbing inefficiency of the state economy. Their black market was so vast that it operated as a countereconomy, even to the extent of producing underground millionaires. But in the sphere of political action, grass-roots initative was moribund.

also advise you to check Oracle Support note 47358.1 (Init.ora Parameter STAR_TRANSFORMATION_ENABLED Reference Note). It gives you a list of the bugs affecting each specific version.

Possible then the professor inited a little too emphatically upon the inferiority of omen, he was concerned not with their inferiority, but with his superiority.

The screen door banged open, and Tessa traipsed out the door. With a flourish, she turned a wicker porch chair to face the swing and plopped down in it. “Tessa Gregory, what are you doing out here?” Charlotte snapped. Propping her hand beneath her chin, she stared at George. “Chaperoning.” Charlotte jumped to her feet, rattling the chains of the swing. She grabbed her sister’s hand and yanked her out of the chair. “You get back inside this instant. We want some privacy.” “So you can . . .” Tessa puckered her lips and gave an exaggerated smack in George’s direction. With a firm grasp around Tessa’s arm, Charlotte opened the screen door, shoved her sister inside, and slammed the door shut. Instead of disappearing, Tessa stood at the screen, adding a few more loud smacking noises.

This is akin to using Ruby's initialize or Python's __init__.

Writing, it's Feeling. spontaneous urges touching upon each of the senses the moment the pen magnetises into fingertips spilling out currents of words in panicked ink splatters, unmanaged, unfiltered & channeled. wept out, breath subtle,surrounded by empty sound. static brush,while wrist sweeps across lanes,crossing lines, giving in,its desperation, its surrender,where its heading,where its been.

package com.example.helloworld.actions; import org.eclipse.jface.action.IAction; import org.eclipse.jface.viewers.ISelection; import org.eclipse.ui.IWorkbenchWindow; import org.eclipse.ui.IWorkbenchWindowActionDelegate; import org.eclipse.jface.dialogs.MessageDialog; public class ExampleAction implements IWorkbenchWindowActionDelegate {     private IWorkbenchWindow window;     public ExampleAction() {     }     public void run(IAction action) {         MessageDialog.openInformation(             window.getShell(),             "org.eclipse.helloworld",             "Hello, Eclipse architecture world");     }     public void selectionChanged(IAction action, ISelection selection) {     }     public void dispose() {     }     public void init(IWorkbenchWindow window) {         this.window = window;     } }

(Ngunit ano man ang nagtulak sa iyong pagpasok sa aking silid, pinilit ka man o nayaya o nais lamang sumubok, ihanda na rin ang sarili: babalik tayo sa panahong kababalaghan pa ang apoy, sisilip sa mundong simbilis ng liwanag ang paglalakbay, at dadamhin ang init ng lupang tinutuntungan natin ngayon. Buksan na rin ang dibdib sa himig ng sariling dila, ng sariling panaghoy, ng sariling adhika, ng sariling panaginip. Buksan na rin ang ilong sa alingasaw ng sariling dumi, ng sariling hininga, ng sariling pagkaagnas. Ngunit higit sa lahat: ihanda ang kaluluwa sa pagtubo at pagtibay ng sariling ugat at pakpak Mula sa UGAT AT PAKPAK)

Ngunit ano man ang nagtulak sa iyong pagpasok sa aking silid, pinilit ka man o nayaya o nais lamang sumubok, ihanda na rin ang sarili: babalik tayo sa panahong kababalaghan pa ang apoy, sisilip sa mundong simbilis ng liwanag ang paglalakbay, at dadamhin ang init ng lupang tinutuntungan natin ngayon. Buksan na rin ang dibdib sa himig ng sariling dila, ng sariling panaghoy, ng sariling adhika, ng sariling panaginip. Buksan na rin ang ilong sa alingasaw ng sariling dumi, ng sariling hininga, ng sariling pagkaagnas. Ngunit higit sa lahat: ihanda ang kaluluwa sa pagtubo at pagtibay ng sariling ugat at pakpak (Mula sa UGAT AT PAKPAK)

Their perfection hadn’t drawn me in—it had intimidated me. I spent our whole relationship auditioning, the same way I always feel when I’m with Dad, praying I’m doing enough to make the cut.

I just think it’s easy to get sucked in to a fake lifestyle,’ he said. ‘I know you know that none of it’s real, blah blah. But do your thing, init. Let other people validate you.

Meggie had the distinct impression that Tamara was playing with words, almost as if she was initating this argument purely for the sake of it.

To let too many stories in—it will undo you. You could not bear it.

You are not scared of heights – you are scared of falling. You are not scared of the dark – you are scared of what’s in it. You are not scared of the sea – you are scared of drowning.’ His voice softened. ‘I don’t always quote this last line…’ ‘Go on.’ Rosa urged. ‘You are not afraid to love – you are afraid of being loved back.

The only thing that is given to you that you have control over is yourself. You have one body, one soul, one mind throughout your whole life, and you have to take good care of it in order to fully function. Taking care of these big three: mind, body, and soul is the def- inition of self-care for me.

Sabi Spinoza ikaw parang sisig, Sizzling lang sa umpisa. Kung isang init lang: pag-ibig! Order na lang sana pizza.

Surrender does not mean giving up or giving in—it’s quite the opposite. Surrender means being “all in” to a point where you let go of the clenching grip you have on life and open up to the depths of what can happen.

The criticality of pausing and reflecting is grossly underestimated. Only when you step away from the rat race, from the earning-a-living bubble, does your Life’s Purpose find you…that’s how Purpose slips in…it tiptoes into your Life!

He can't characterize this landscape yet, it's too new, but there's something inits complexity, the anarchic profusion of forms, that is mesmerizing to watch. Nothing has been planned. No two things are the same. And yet everything has an intense coherence.

Senescence is not a simple matter. Staying alive when senescence should have kicked in—it’s a wonder we’ve done as much as we have. There’s probably a purpose in senescence. Avoiding overpopulation, perhaps. Making room for new genetic material.

class Indenter: def __init__(self): self.level = 0 def __enter__(self): self.level += 1 return self def __exit__(self, exc_type, exc_val, exc_tb): self.level -= 1 def print(self, text): print(' ' * self.level + text)