June 1 Quotes

What a joke! Poor little rich girl's fallen in love with the Republic's most famous criminal.

June has never looked more beautiful than she does now, unadorned and honest, vulnerable yet invincible.

You threw everything away."I bring a hand up to touch her face,to wipe the rain from her eyelashes."Your entire life-your beliefs...Why would you do that for me?" June has never looked more beautiful than she does now,unadorned and honest,vulnerable yet invincible.When lightning streaks over the sky,her dark eyes shine like gold."Because you were right,"she whispers."About all of it.

Not bombs nor my broken heart can take away from me walking barefoot with you in jasmine June through the Field of Mars.

Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer

You should have taken me with you," I whisper to him. Then I lean my head against his and begin to cry. In my mind, I make a silent promise to my brother's killer. I will hunt you down. I will scour the streets of Los Angeles for you. Search every street in the Republic if I have to. I will trick you and deceive you, lie, cheat and steal to find you, tempt you out of your hiding place, and chase you until you have nowhere else to run. I make you this promise: your life is mine.

He touches my face, his thumb smoothing over my lips. "You're my June, Tru.

You can't have real pain without real love. You can't feel grief and loss and hurt without real love. Love is the only way you can ever be really hurt deep down.

From: EONeill22@hotmail.com Sent: Saturday, June 8, 2013 1:18 PM To: GDL824@yahoo.com Subject: what happy looks like Sunrises over the harbor. Ice cream on a hot day. The sound of the waves down the street. The way my dog curls up next to me on the couch. Evening strolls. Great movies. Thunderstorms. A good cheeseburger. Fridays. Saturdays. Wednesdays, even. Sticking your toes in the water. Pajama pants. Flip-flops. Swimming. Poetry. The absence of smiley faces in an e-mail. What does it look like to you?

She makes use of the soft of the bread for a napkin. She falls asleep at times with shoes on, on unmade beds. When a little money comes in, June buys delicacies, strawberries in the winter, caviar and bath salts.

I must know, he thinks. It must be clear to me. There is a world which is closed to him, a world of shadings, gradations, nuances, and subtleties. He is a genius and yet he is too explicit. June slips between his fingers. You cannot posses without loving.

It's June second, he told himself. Try to remember that. This is New York, and tomorrow will be June third. If all goes well, the following day will be the fourth. But nothing is certain.

Then I realize from the hollow sound of her gun's click that her gun isn't loaded. Apparently she just wants to slap me around with it.

For me, it was almost like winter didn't count. Summer was what mattered. My whole life was measured in summers. Like I don't really begin living until June, until I'm at that beach, in that house

Today was the day a thousand dreams would die and a single dream would be born. The wind knew. It was the first of June, but cold gusts bit at the hilltop citadelle as fiercely as deepest winter, shaking the windows with curses and winding through drafty halls with warning whispers. There was no escaping what was to come.

June!” I call out. She turns into my stunpike and shudders as the electricity dumbs down her muscles. That’s how I steal their cook. Cassius finds me running with June over my shoulder through their gardens. “What the hell?” “She’s a cook!” I explain. He laughs so hard he can barely breathe.

June, you have killed my sincerity too. I will never again know who I am, what I am, what I love, what I want. Your beauty has drowned me, the core of me. You carry away with you a part of me reflected in you. When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence. You are the woman I want to be. I see in you that part of me which is you. I feel compassion for your childish pride, for your trembling unsureness, your dramatization of events, your enhancing of the loves given to you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madness.

He took my hand and held it against his chest, "Feel that? It beats for you.

Metias started off into the distance. "Few people ever kill for the right reasons, June," he said after a long silence. "Most do it for the wrong reasons. I just hope you never have to be in either category

At first I protested and rebelled against poetry. I was about to deny my poetic worlds. I was doing violence to my illusions with analysis, science, and learning Henry’s language, entering Henry’s world. I wanted to destroy by violence and animalism my tenuous fantasies and illusions and my hypersensitivity. A kind of suicide. The ignominy awakened me. Then June came and answered the cravings of my imagination and saved me. Or perhaps she killed me, for now I am started on a course of madness.

At this moment, all I'm thinking about is what I'd give up for the chance to kiss her or to run my fingers through her dark hair.

Money is the most important thing in the world, you know. Money can buy you happiness, and I don't care what anyone else thinks.

Her sadness makes her impossibly beautiful, like snow blanketing a barren landscape.

Be daffodils in June, you beastly things!

Someday I’ll see him again, and we’ll tell our stories to each other…but for now, I lock him safely away, in a place where I can draw on his strength.

June," Day murmurs. I feel a strange warmth at the sound of my name on his lips.

It was a soft breathless June morning, with a promise of sultriness later...

She's pretty in a way that distracts me just like she did in the Skiz ring. No, pretty's not the right word. Beautiful.

My whole life was measured in summers. Like I don’t really begin living until June, until I’m at that beach, in that house.

Don't take life so serious, son...it ain't no how permanent. --Porky Pine, June 19-24, 1950

I know you know the tale of Baby June You know the way she could deliver a tune She was a killer in a petticoat A little bit of everyone you adore... And if your baby let you down at night, Well Baby June would make it up alright And I was never happier Than in the arms and charms of her

The secret island had looked mysterious enough on the night they had seen it before - but now, swimming in the hot June haze, it seemed more enchanting than ever. As they drew near to it, and saw the willow trees that bent over the water-edge and heard the sharp call of moorhens that scuttled off, the children gazed in delight. Nothing but trees and birds and little wild animals. Oh, what a secret island, all for their very own, to live on and play on.

I'm supposed to hate you for what you did, I think. But her eyes linger on me in a way that refuses to let me.

Chloe, I'm not kidding. I'm not letting you out of my sight until Christmas." She squinted up at the later afternoon June sun. "Christmas? That sounds a little gimp-in-the-basement for my tastes." "If you're not into that, this relationship might not work after all," I teased.

Summer explodes into Portland. In early June the heat was there but not the color--the green were still pale and tentative, the morning had a biting coolness--but by the last week of school everything is Technicolor and splash, outrageous blue skies and purple thunderstorms and ink-black night skies and red flowers as brights as spots of blood.

Because I have a few things in common with him,” he answers, opening his eyes. “Like?” “The drugs … the women … hanging out for the girl of my dreams.” I take a sharp breath in. Tears instantly prick the backs of my eyes. He touches my face, his thumb smoothing over my lips. “You’re my June, Tru.

The die was cast. It was a proud day for the Milligan family as I was taken from the house. "I'm too young to go," I screamed as Military Policemen dragged me from my pram, clutching a dummy. At Victoria Station the R.T.O. gave me a travel warrant, a white feather and a picture of Hitler marked "This is your enemy." I searched every compartment, but he wasn't on the train. At 4.30, June 2nd, 1940, on a summer's day all mare's tails and blue sky we arrived at Bexhill-on-Sea, where I got off. It wasn't easy. The train didn't stop there.

But every now and then, when I steal a glance at the Girl, or feel her eyes on me, I helplessly drift back to thinking about her.

When you left you left behind a field of silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterflies mid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh and how you left leaving my coffee scentless and my couch comfortless leaving upon my fingers the melting snow of you you left behind a calendar full of empty days and seasons full of aimless wanders leaving me alone with an armful of sunsets your reflection behind in every puddle your whispers upon every curtain your fragrance inside every petal you left your echoes in between the silence of my eyes Oh and how you left leaving my sands footless and my shores songless leaving me with windows full of moistened moonlight nights and nights of only a half-warmed soul and when you left... you left behind a lifetime of moments untouched the light of a million stars unshed and when you left you somehow left my poem...unfinished. (Published in Taj Mahal Review Vol.11 Number 1 June 2012)

I find myself pausing to admire her face. For a brief moment, I'm lost to my surroundings.

It was a perfect day. For five minutes there was no war, and it was just a glorious Sunday in a Leningrad June. When Tatiana looked up from her ice cream, she saw a soldier staring at her from across the street.

Take the entire 4.5-billion-year history of the earth and scale it down to a single year, with January 1 being the origin of the earth and midnight on December 31 being the present. Until June, the only organisms were single-celled microbes, such as algae, bacteria, and amoebae. The first animal with a head did not appear until October. The first human appears on December 31. We, like all the animals and plants that have ever lived, are recent crashers at the party of life on earth.

My name is June Iparis.

The bride's about to throw her bouquet," Mom told me the day after she turned 96. "Come on, June, get me up there!" (She stole the bouquet and kept it.)

The grim reaper was waiting for me, scythe in hand, ready to drag me to wherever dead men go to pay for their sins. And I had sinned plenty.' Beast - Tame his Beast coming June 18th

If life were merely a habit, I should commit suicide; but even now, more or less desperate, I cannot but think, ‘Something wonderful may happen.’ It is not optimism, it is a rejection of self-pity (I hope) which leaves a loophole for life… I merely choose to remain living out of respect for possibility. And possibility is the great good. — Frank O’Hara, Early Writing, 108-9 (1/22/49) Bookpeople (June 1977).

By being seldom seen, I could not stir, But, like a comet, I was wondered at... He was but as the cuckoo is in June, Heard, not regarded--seen, but with such eyes, As, sick and blunted with community, Afford no extraordinary gaze.

The Million Ways To Fail – Tuesday, June 30, 2015 Here’s how you fail: You fail with your heart on your sleeve. You fail like you mean it with every part of you. You fail attempting the impossible and the ridiculous. You fail in front of others and you fail and they laugh at you and you fail and you feel nothing and regret less. You fail sincerely and earnestly and you risk everything at every opportunity. This is how you fail: You fail beautifully You fail with grace.

Captain Christopher Phelan 1st Battalion Rifle Brigade Cape Mapan Crimea June 1855 Dearest Christopher, I can’t write to you again. I’m not who you think I am. I didn’t mean to send love letters, but that is what they became. On their way to you, my words turned into heartbeats on the page. Come back, please come home and find me. --[unsigned]

He returns my smile. His teeth are beautiful, the loveliest I've seen so far on these streets.

Adam ” Lori called loudly enough for me to hear her but not so loud that her voice would carry up to my mom in the marina office- or to her dad who might be listening from their screened porch facing the water. “I came over to get some tips from the boys about teaching Tammy and Rachel to board. Of course I did not come over here to see you. How could you think such a thing That would be disobedient.” I held up the wax. “For my own disobedience I have to buff the boat. Then I’m going for a jog.” She tilted her head. Probably her eyes widened but I couldn’t see them behind her sunglasses. I hated not being able to see her eyes. She asked “In this heat?” I didn’t mind jogging in the heat. The heat was a big friendly animal that liked to wrestle and only occasionally sat on me until I lost my breath. Anyway she was missing the point. I repeated carefully ”I am GOING for a JOG.” “I HEARD you the FIRST time ” she said. “It’s late afternoon in the middle of June. It’s ninety-five degrees out here.” “He means he’s GOING for a JOG” Rachel and Tammy said at the same time. “He’s GOING for a JOG.” Lori still didn’t get it. Normally her blondeness was one of the things I loved about her. At the moment not so much. Exasperated Cameron told her “Adam wants you to go for a jog too.” She said “Oh ” “If you two airheads have to hook up secretly for very long ” Sean said “you’re not going to make it.

I don't care about being happy. Only about being the best.

Gavriel wanted to control me. Blaise wanted to see me. Callum wanted to save me. Ryker wanted to punish me.

the group of fiftysomething-year-old women I privately referred to as “the Calendar Crew.” Their names were April, Mae, and June

June ripened into July, then burst and withered and dried and became August.

He is a genius and yet he is too explicit. June slips between his fingers. You cannot possess without loving.

Summer was what mattered. My whole life was measured in summers. Like I don't really begin living until June, until I'm at that beach.

You want to save the world and the innumerable fools in it, whether they deserve a chance or not. But I would give up this entire world for a single breath to leave your lips again.

Gliding across an imaginary line that splits the Pacific Ocean from the north to the south polar caps, the sunrise acquired a new label, June 23. Behind that line, June 22 had just dawned. This murky international convention, amid world chaos, still stood. For the globe still turned as always in the light of the sun, ninety million miles away in black space, and the tiny dwellers on the globe still had to agree, as they went about their mutual butcheries, on a way to tell the time.

June’s clients did not have the patience to deal with problems or the personal courage and energy to find solutions on their own. What they did have was an almost endless supply of capital. With that capital, June’s clients could hire people to solve any problem with minimal effort. That is what June did; she solved problems by the process of elimination.

I ALMOST KISSED THE GIRL LAST NIGHT.

I don't need to know my name because by the time I'm done, you'll forget yours.

I will hunt you down. I will scour the streets of Los Angeles for you. Search every street in the Republic if I have to. I will trick you and deceive you, lie, cheat and steal to find you, tempt you out of your hiding place, and chase you until you have nowhere else to run. I make you this promise: your life is mine.

The Taking Of Turns Monday, June 14, 2010 You are in some songs that still get played on the radio when the DJ is feeling nostalgic. You are in a book you once lent me (never returned) with yellowed pages. You are in trees when I touch them, even ones without names carved into them. You are in the way someone on the street laughs as I pass them. You are in a box I keep filled with letters. You are in a ring I no longer wear. And, every day, you each get a moment to haunt me.

While we searched for you, the Bullets screamed your nickname over and over. It was the first time someone called you something that completely illustrated what it felt like to look at you. You’re Sunshine, Baby. You’re light. Warmth. Pure life illuminating those lucky enough to know you.

As June walked toward me from the darkness of the garden into the light of the door, I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. Astartling white face, burning dark eyes, a face so alive I felt it would consume itself before my eyes. Years ago I tried to imagine a true beauty; I created in my mind an image of just such a woman. I had never seen her until last night. Yet I knew long ago the phosphorescent color of her skin, her huntress profile, the evenness of her teeth. She is bizarre, fantastic, nervous, like someone in a high fever. Her beauty drowned me... By the end of the evening I had extricated myself from her power. She killed my admiration by her talk. Her talk. The enormous ego, false, weak, posturing. She lacks the courage of her personality, which is sensual, heavy with experience. Her role alone preoccupies her. She invents drama in which she always stars. I am sure she creates genuine dramas, genuine chaos and whirlpools of feelings, but I feel that her share in it is a pose. That night, in spite of my response to her, she sought to be whatever she felt I wanted her to be. She is an actress every moment. I cannot grasp the core of June.

Now, as a modern-day Viking cat, you’d think I’d bat the jowls of Crime with rapid-fire paws. But when I trotted along the riverpath that shockingly snowy night of June 1 and stumbled upon the beaten and bloodied corpse, I wasn’t in my most Vikingest state.

Sir James Matthew Barrie, 1st Baronet OM (9 May 1860 – 19 June 1937), more commonly known as J. M. Barrie, was a Scottish novelist and dramatist. He is best remembered for creating Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up, whom he based on his friends, the Llewelyn Davies boys. He is also credited with popularising the name "Wendy", which was very uncommon before he gave it to the heroine of Peter Pan. He was made a baronet in 1913; his baronetcy was not inherited. He was made a member of the Order of Merit in 1922. Source: Wikipedia

What do you like to fill your ears with when you’re alone at night, Hannah?

Winter was much slower. Cold June days were downright oppressive.

Thursday 18th June 07:37 TO: chris@christophercheshire.com Ow, ow ow. Sunburn. Grass burn. Torn dress. Mud in hair. Hung-over. Feel like a slut.

that before long chance would betray the captain's secrets. The next day, the 1st of June, the Nautilus continued the same

June Cleaver fused with a Suicide Girl.

Quote taken from Chapter 1: The June afternoon had clear, blue skies—ideal weather for birdwatching.

It was raining in Richmond on Friday, June 6.

Dustin would have scoffed at the idea that the kid who once ate a June bug on a dare when they were four years old could ever become a senator, but the fact that the current president was once a reality star who cheated on his pregnant wife with a porn star gave him pause.

On June 1 George told Ruth it would have been 'unbearable' to miss the final attempt. His frostbitten fingers might suffer further damage, but he declared: 'The game is worth a finger.

On June 16, 1933, the Senate passed the Glass-Steagall Act whereby banks were forbidden from selling stocks and bonds. The Act also created the FDIC, which insures banks against failure.

Refusal: because we cannot collaborate with the prison-industrial complex, as “only evil will collaborate with evil” (June Jordan). Care: because “care is the antidote to violence” (Saidiya Hartman). Collectivity: because “everything worthwhile is done with others” (Moussa Kaba).

Even the best national currency of the postwar period, the German mark, lost 71 percent of its value from January 1, 1949, through the end of June 1995. In the same period, the U.S. dollar lost 84 percent of its value.9 This inflation had the same effect as a tax on all who hold the currency.

His cousin Freddy brought him in on the heist one hot night in early June. It was such a pretty block and on certain nights when it was cool and quiet it was as if you didn’t live in the city at all.

Perhaps we have built a false concept of wholeness and, under the pressure of an artificial unity, people like June explode and fly in all directions. Some day we may be reassembled into a more truthful whole.

refusal, care, and collectivity. Refusal: because we cannot collaborate with the prison-industrial complex, as “only evil will collaborate with evil” (June Jordan). Care: because “care is the antidote to violence” (Saidiya Hartman).

In a sixty-page report released in June 1938, Smythe concluded that the 120 air raids that Nanking experienced and the four-day siege of the city did only 1 percent of the damage inflicted by the Japanese army after it entered Nanking.

We’re only trying to survive, like all other living organisms. What makes it wrong? Aren’t you doing the same? Aren’t you training to survive? It’s the law of nature—eat or be eaten.

If I’d known the depths of his feelings before, I wouldn't have gone. I would have risked death and never left. ’Cause this feeling? It was better than heaven and worth a trip to hell.

No government ought to be without censors: and where the press is free, no one ever will. If virtuous, it need not fear the fair operation of attack and defence. Nature has given to man no other means of sifting out the truth either in religion, law, or politics. I think it as honorable to the government neither to know, nor notice, it’s sycophants or censors, as it would be undignified and criminal to pamper the former and persecute the latter.

More than anything, I'd like to go to a park today. I want to sit in a swing, drink chocolate milk, and not think about anything in the world except the pleasure of that moment. I want to know what a normal life feels like because I can't remember anymore. I want to drag my feet on the ground as I swing back and forth. I want to feel the fresh, spring chi on my skin. I'm very tempted to get out my Halloween decorations today because looking at them always gives me a little burst of excitement. I can't, though, because I have a rule: No Halloween decorations before June 21. That's the summer solstice, so after that we're officially in the second half of the year. Another rule I abide by is no peppermint until November 1. I only eat peppermint between November 1 and January 6, because that keeps it special. If you don't do things like that in here, then there's nothing to look forward to.

Sometimes being strong meant knowing when to avoid the things that made you weak. Eighty percent of being courageous was about being self-aware. You had to know your weaknesses to develop your strengths.

A minute ago it was June. Now the weather is September. The crops are high, about to be cut, bright, golden, November? unimaginable. Just a month away. The days are still warm, the air in the shadows sharper. The nights are sooner, chillier, the light a little less each time. Dark at half-past seven. Dark at quarter past seven, dark at seven. The greens of the trees have been duller since August, since July really. But the flowers are still coming. The hedgerows are still humming. The shed is already full of apples and the tree's still covered in them. The birds are on the powerlines. The swifts left week ago. They're hundreds of miles from here by now, somewhere over the ocean.

Church paid more than $3 billion to settle abuse complaints between 1950 and 2015. In Boston, the archdiocese paid $154 million to settle with 1,230 victims from 2002 through June 30, 2014, the most recent figures available. Between 2004 and 2015, twelve dioceses nationwide filed for bankruptcy protection.

I have never experienced writers block and I've written every day since June 1972. But I have experienced the need to get up and walk around, eat ice cream, let ideas percolate, forget the story for a time, and then return to the page. Even the muse needs a vacation to rest up before she gives more of herself.

Writing down your thoughts is both necessary and harmful. It leads to eccentricity, narcissism, preserves what should be let go. On the other hand, these notes intensify the inner life, which, left unexpressed, slips through your fingers. If only I could find a better kind of journal, humbler, one that would preserve the same thoughts, the same flesh of life, which is worth saving. from “In That Great River: A Notebook,” Poetry. Originally Published: June 1, 2010

The first of June! The Kings are off to the seashore tomorrow, and I'm free. Three months' vacation—how I shall enjoy it!" exclaimed Meg, coming home one warm day to find Jo laid upon the sofa in an unusual state of exhaustion, while Beth took off her dusty boots, and Amy made lemonade for the refreshment of the whole party.

Lamento no habértelo dicho, lamento tener que decirlo frente a todos estos desconocidos para que recuerden cuanto te amé. Lamento tener que decir estas palabras en frente de lo que debería ser una sonrisa, y no un cuerpo inerte del cual me despediré.

Now I had a mate and a pal. All I needed to complete the Kat Friendship Club was a buddy!

Te amo. Y te agradezco por darme esta oportunidad. La oportunidad de amar en más de una manera diferente.

It is the low times in our lives that actually show us the value of the brighter times.

Oh great, we can skip past the awkward 'I'm probably going to put a baby in your best friend' conversation then," he said with a shrug. "By the way, I think I have a breeder kink.

The truth is,” Render began, “you’re more afraid of you than anyone else is.

if you ever leave our girl wanting again, I'll remove you from her life completely, understand?" Gavriel

Love was just this potent emotion that burst from the seams. It hurt, it moved, it healed.

Focus on the thing that’ll save you instead of what can kill you, capiche?

Stress was just a side-effect of the expectations we allowed others to put on us,

Let go of shit you have nothing to do with. You don’t owe the world a single thing, Sunshine.

It’s the bruises you can’t see that you should be worried about,

He cries, ‘Tell me, tell me what you feel.’ And I cannot. There is blood in my eyes, in my head. Words are drowned.

Does a June wedding work for you?” he asks hoarsely.

You should have brought me with you"- June

By mid-June, the mercury had soared up to the nineties and lingered there, like a fat dowager in her favorite armchair.

EPUB Edition JUNE 2015 ISBN 9780062363251 Version 060815 15 16 17 18 19   OV/RRD   10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The Cavaliers’ Midsummer Party. Celebrate the lengthening of the nights with us. Dress like it’s your last night on earth. 21st June. Be ready and we will be waiting.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves.’ Then

He slammed the van door closed behind him and took a deep breath. The last thing he saw was the blue sky and bright sunlight of a warm June day.

Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer.

We learned to lip-read, our heads flat on the beds, turned sideways, watching each other's mouths. In this way we exchanged names from bed to bed: Alma. Janine. Dolores. Moira. June.

Sixty-five years ago [written 2009], in a brief lull between storms in a remarkably stormy June, even by the standards of Channel weather, the heirs of Harold and the kinsmen of the Conqueror came to Normandy. They were supported by the remnants of their first, North American, empire, the two great nations that they had planted in the New World in the time of Good Queen Bess and James 6th and 1st: the Americans, who had rebelled in the name of the rights of Englishmen, and the Canadians, who had stood loyal in the name of the Crown. … The honours of these regiments are ancient and moving: Minden and Malplaquet, Mysore, Badajoz, Waterloo, Inkerman, Gallipoli, the Somme, Imjin. None shines more brightly than Normandy 1944. The paths of glory may lead but to the grave; yet all, even golden boys and girls, must come to dust. It is a better path to the grave than any of the others, not because glory is something to seek, but because, not once or twice in our long island story, the way of duty has been the path to glory; and duty is to be done. …Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers that begat us.

Perhaps there is nothing at all, perhaps the mystery is that there is no mystery at all. Perhaps she is empty, and there is no June at all.” “But, Henry, how can an empty woman have such a vivid presence, how can an empty woman cause insomnia, awaken so many curiosities? How could an empty woman cause other women to take flight, as you tell me, abdicating immediately before her?

Many people lay the blame at Bush’s feet for beginning weaponized drone warfare, but in reality it was President Clinton who began the U.S. weaponized drone program.1 After an aerial drone spotted bin Laden in October 2000, President Clinton was frustrated that he could not simply push a button to end the life of the man who had sullied his foreign policy and national security records. President Clinton “gave orders to create an armed drone force.”2 That program came to fruition under President Bush when on June 18th 2004, the first weaponized drone struck in Waziristan.

Skip Notes *1 Protocol for the Prohibition of the Use in War of Asphyxiating, Poisonous or Other Gases, and of Bacteriological Methods of Warfare Signed at Geneva June 17, 1925 Entered into force February 8, 1928 Ratification advised by the U.S. Senate December 16, 1974 Ratified by U.S. President January 22, 1975 U.S. ratification deposited with the Government of France April 10, 1975 Proclaimed by U.S. President April 29, 1975 The Undersigned Plenipotentiaries, in the name of their respective Governments: Whereas the use in war of asphyxiating, poisonous or other gases, and of all analogous liquids, materials or devices, has been justly condemned by the general opinion of the civilized world; and Whereas the prohibition of such use has been declared in Treaties to which the majority of Powers of the World are Parties; and To the end that this prohibition shall be universally accepted as a part of International Law, binding alike the conscience and the practice of nations. Tear gas has been deemed a “riot control agent,” which exempts it from chemical weapons law. As such, it is regularly used by police on citizens in city streets, while still being prohibited from war zones.

Honey, I have no family. No friends. You running into my life was the best thing that ever happened to me. Who else is going to make me waffles at two in the morning?” Nix pouted while placing his hands on my shoulders. “Finding you in that alley changed my life. You’re my person. Where you go, I go.

Frankly, I’m not real sure what to feel. Never thought I’d be in this kind of situation. There was this kid, Shemar Carson… a black dude, my age, shot and killed in Nevada by this white cop back in June.

Gavriel copes by convincing himself he’s in charge. I get off on watching. Ryker is so scared of losing you again that he pushes his jealousy and anger to the side. And Callum? He likes it. He just doesn’t know it yet.

MY BATTERY IS LOW AND IT´S GETTING DARK. (Launched on July 7, 2003; MER-1 or "Opportunity" traveled 28 miles on Mars over a span of 14 years, leading humanity forward; this is the message from the last contact on June 10, 2018)

Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude June Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude Jude please Jude

Oh trees of life, when will your winter come? We're not in tune. Not like migratory birds. Outmoded, late, in haste, we force ourselves on winds which let us down upon indifferent ponds. Though we've had to learn how flowering is fading, somewhere lions still roam, unaware, in their majesty, of any weakness. — Rainer Maria Rilke, from the “Fourth Elegy,” Duino Elegies. Trans. by David Young. (W. W. Norton & Company; 1 edition, June 17, 2006) Originally published 1923.

Detective Comics first appeared in 1937. Superman, written and drawn by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster, made his debut in Action Comics #1 in June 1938. Superman was unstoppable; soon, a million Superman comics were being sold every month.45

Te amo. Y cuando tú me digas te amo, y yo respondacon un gracias, no sientas que es algo malo, es lo que siento. No dudes en que yo también te amo, porque lo hago. Es solo que tengo que agradecerte eso. Las palabras y lo que sientes hacía mí.

The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine, like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind, whispering to one another what they had seen, for some peeped in at the dining room windows where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch, and hall, and all, from the rosiest full-blown flower to the palest baby bud, offered their tribute of beauty and fragrance to the gentle mistress who had loved and tended them so long.

I want to make it clear, right here, right now. I own you.” Gavriel’s declaration sent an electric thrill down my spine. I’d always belonged to him, but hearing it rocked me. “Ryker, Callum, and Blaise? They're all going to have pieces of you; I tried fighting it when we were teens, but I'm not going to fight it anymore. I own each of you. You hear me? You can’t escape it.

This girl is the daughter of the man who once owned Jon’s mother as a negro-slave was owned. You can’t lay that ghost; don’t try to, June! It’s asking us to see Jon joined to the flesh and blood of the man who possessed Jon’s mother against her will.

June 17. I spent in cooking the turtle; I found in her threescore eggs, and her flesh was to me at that time the most savoury and pleasant that ever I tasted in my life, having had no flesh, but of goats and fowls, since I landed in this horrid place.

Wymack raked the group with a look “I don’t see any guests. Neil’s a fox. He’s not going to get any special treatment just because it’s his first day. Don’t want him thinking this team is anything but dysfunctional or June will be a rude wake-up call.

Do you think the universe fights for people to be together? I've always thought the world was organized. People didn't just meet for no reason. Sometimes, things seemed too perfect to be an accident. I was meant to meet Summer in that alley that night.

Pero más que nada, puedes saber que todos te amamos, que fuiste una de las mejores personas que he conocido y conoceré, y que sin importar cuantos errores hayas cometido, todo ellos desaparecen como espectros tras la presencia de tus buenas acciones.

She's my soulmate. My better half. My best friend...and the only reason I'm wasting my valuable time to warn you.” My voice was laced with venom. “I don't think you deserve the warning I’m about to give you, but your daughter is a better person than I am.

Let me see: There's Miss Garnnett in Ireland, in June of 1770; Miss Nightjar in Swansea on April 3, 1901; Miss Avocet and Miss Bunting together in Derbyshire on Saint Swithin's Day of 1867; Miss Treecreeper I don't remmeber where exactly-- oh, and dear Miss Finch.

The true rule, in determining to embrace, or reject anything, is not whether it have any evil in it; but whether it have more of evil, than of good. There are few things wholly evil, or wholly good. -Abraham Lincoln, in a speech in the House of Representatives June 20th, 1848

Gavriel leaned down and spoke against my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “Remember what I said. I own you, Sunshine. But being mine comes with its perks. I take care of what’s mine." Streaks of arousal flooded my core as he spoke, "I’ll give you all the things you’re too afraid to ask for. You want to fuck him in the locker room, don’t you? If you need someone to give you permission, I’ll be that person.

In framing a system which we wish to last for ages, we shd. not lose sight of the changes which ages will produce. [James Madison in the U.S. Constitutional Convention, June 26, 1787. The Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, ed. Max Farrand (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1966), 1:422.]

…With no sacredness of the ballot there can be no sacredness of human life itself. For if the strong can take the weak man’s ballot, when it suits his purpose to do so, he will take his life also.” [Ida B Wells, “How Enfranchisement Stops Lynchings,” Original Rights Magazine 1, no. 4 (June 1910): 43-45]

Hank Green's Secrets of Productivity: 1.) I have convinced myself that if I am not using all of the tools I have in my disposal to do the maximum amount of good [...] then I am less of a good person than I could otherwise could be. [...] 2.) I intentionally put myself in situations where people who I care about and who I respect rely on me to do things, which is very motivating. [...] 3.) I don't get caught up in doing everything perfectly. [...] I just want to try stuff and if it explodes... it exploded! And I learned! 4.) I love giving other people responsibility. I love putting them in difficult situations and saying: "Figure this out. Help me do this." And if they do it wrong or if they do it differently than how I would have done it, I don't get mad as long as they're learning, because there's no way to get good at stuff except to do it and fail and learn. [...] 5.) I follow and cultivate my own curiosity. I think curiosity is one of the top two or three human characteristics. It's something that I really like about myself. [...] I want to understand stuff! I want to understand people! Following my curiosity so frequently leads me to better life decisions and better business decisions but also - just feeling better! You're never going to feel bad about your whole life if you loved people and you were curious. I mean, that's kind of all I want!

Do you know what your husband is doing?” she asked. “Yes,” June said, sounding annoyed. “Not babysitting.” “Are you worried?” “Only that one of them will shoot off a toe. Why? Are you?” “Well… Yes! You should have seen them—in their vests and with those big guns. I mean, big guns!” “Well, there are bear out there, you know. You don’t want a peashooter,” June said. “You don’t have to worry about Jack, honey. I think it’s been established he’s a good shot, if he needs to be.” “What about Jim?” “Jim?” She laughed. “Mel, Jim used to do this for a living. He won’t admit he misses it just a little bit. But I swear I heard him giggle.” All

When Mercury is retrograde, stay flexible, allow more time for travel, and don’t sign contracts. Review projects and plans but wait until Mercury is direct again to make final decisions. In 2022, Mercury will be retrograde during January 13–February 3, May 10–June 2, September 9–October 1, and December 28–(January 18, 2023).

June 1, 1921, idyllic, prosperous, exceptional Greenwood was looted and burned by white rioters. In a span of fewer than twenty-four hours, thirty-five city blocks were charred, over eight hundred people were treated for injuries, and historians have estimated that somewhere between one hundred and three hundred lives were lost.

It rained all Thursday morning, not a heavy downpour, but persistent rain. There had been no letup since the previous afternoon. Whenever it seemed about to stop it would start pouring again. June was half gone without a sign the rainy season would ever end. The sky remained dark, as if covered with a lid, and the world wore a heavy dampness.

Please put the dead prostitute’s clothes on. I'm about to pop a boner in the torture room, and I was told I wasn't allowed to be sexually aroused around dead bodies anymore.

Because I would burn the world to the ground before letting anything happen to you. I’d kill anyone, anything, that put you in danger.

Let your damage breathe. Let it fucking breathe.

She smiled, even as she felt a part of her die. He pressed his lips to her forehead for the last time. And then, he let her go.

The only person she knew at all was Marquez, and Marquez seemed to have been possessed by the music.

Lo que todos esperamos obtener luego de un error o una desilusión...Una segunda oportunidad.

And God doesn’t break his word.

We were made by God to be happy with him forever in heaven.

God, help me to approach my fellow Christians with a spirit of compassion and mercy, never judgment.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline.” (Proverbs 1:7)

Everyone is talking about it now. The gossip is delicious," he cooed.

Knowing what she did...it makes me not want to have her anywhere near them," Callum growled with a frown. "It's a little late for that. I mean, I'm sure Gav knows a guy that could dig her up, but even though I hate the woman, I don't necessarily want her swimming with the fishes," I joked in my best Brooklyn accent, pushing past the nervousness I felt with sarcasm.

Anne Frank kept a diary from June 12, 1942, to August 1, 1944. Initially, she wrote it strictly for herself. Then, one day in 1944, Gerrit Bolkestein, a member of the Dutch government in exile, announced in a radio broadcast from London that after the war he hoped to collect eyewitness accounts of the suffering of the Dutch people under the German occupation, which could be made available to the public. As an example, he specifically mentioned letters and diaries. Impressed by this speech, Anne Frank decided that when the war was over she would publish a book based on her diary. She began rewriting and editing her diary, improving on the text, omitting passages she didn’t think were interesting enough and adding others from memory.

I told you I’d give you all the things you’re too afraid to ask for,” Gavriel said before straightening and picking up his spatula. “I’ll take care of you, Love. But with that comes removing the things you’re too scared to lose. I’m going to give him—and you—time to navigate this. But at the end of the day, I’ll do what’s best for you. I’ll always do what’s best for you.

Riding horseback along a country lane I saw wild roses in bloom, against an old stone wall. The expensive, improved varieties in my garden have lost something. Sophistication always does.

Te extrañaremos, y agradeceremos cada momento. Y lamento no ser lo suficientemente fuerte para decirte estas palabras sin llorar ante ti, pero mamá, apenas tengo 9 años, ¿Qué puedo hacer si no?

Please put the dead prostitute’s clothes on. I'm about to pop a boner in the torture room, and I was told I wasn't allowed to be sexually aroused around dead bodies anymore." The fact that Anthony

With the onset of successive days of high winds and snow blizzards, the battle of Ypres faded away, leaving both sides to hold their blood-soaked positions. The most significant territorial outcome was that the Germans had gained the high ground along the Messines ridge, and held it until June 1917. But they had suffered 80,000 casualties around Ypres, many regiments losing two-thirds of their strength or even more. A German wrote home: ‘I have been living through days that defy imagination. I should never have thought men could stand it … Our 1st battalion, which has fought with unparalleled bravery, is reduced from 1200 men to 194. God grant that I may see you again soon and that this horror may soon be over.’ The writer was fortunate enough to be taken prisoner soon afterwards.

To know that one does not write for the other, to know that these things I am going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love (the other), to know that writing compensates for nothing, sublimates nothing, that it is precisely there where you are not–this is the beginning of writing. — Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments. (Hill and Wang; Second Printing edition June 1, 1979) Originally published 1977.

I know there is a spirit among the slaves which would not much longer brook their degradation and their bondage. There are many Madison Washingtons and Nathaniel Turners in the South, who would assert their rights to liberty if you would take your feet from their necks and your sympathy and aid from their oppressors. (The Slaves Right to Revolt: An Address Delivered In Boston, Massachusetts, on 30 May 1848, Liberator June 9 1848)

We know from subsequent leaks that the president was indeed presented with information about the seriousness of the virus and its pandemic potential beginning at least in early January 2020. And yet, as documented by the Washington Post, he repeatedly stated that “it would go away.” On February 10, when there were 12 known cases, he said that he thought the virus would “go away” by April, “with the heat.” On February 25, when there were 53 known cases, he said, “I think that’s a problem that’s going to go away.” On February 27, when there were 60 cases, he said, famously, “We have done an incredible job. We’re going to continue. It’s going to disappear. One day—it’s like a miracle—it will disappear.” On March 6, when there were 278 cases and 14 deaths, again he said, “It’ll go away.” On March 10, when there were 959 cases and 28 deaths, he said, “We’re prepared, and we’re doing a great job with it. And it will go away. Just stay calm. It will go away.” On March 12, with 1,663 cases and 40 deaths recorded, he said, “It’s going to go away.” On March 30, with 161,807 cases and 2,978 deaths, he was still saying, “It will go away. You know it—you know it is going away, and it will go away. And we’re going to have a great victory.” On April 3, with 275,586 cases and 7,087 deaths, he again said, “It is going to go away.” He continued, repeating himself: “It is going away.… I said it’s going away, and it is going away.” In remarks on June 23, when the United States had 126,060 deaths and roughly 2.5 million cases, he said, “We did so well before the plague, and we’re doing so well after the plague. It’s going away.” Such statements continued as both the cases and the deaths kept rising. Neither the virus nor Trump’s statements went away.

The cosmic calendar compresses the local history of the universe into a single year. If the universe began on January 1st it was not until May that the Milky Way formed. Other planetary systems may have appeared in June, July and August, but our Sun and Earth not until mid-September. Life arose soon after. … We humans appear on the cosmic calendar so recently that our recorded history occupies only the last few seconds of the last minute of December 31st.

Humility- producing success focuses on the power and grace of God and brings glory to Him rather than to you. Pride- producing success focuses on your gifts and abilities and brings glory to you rather than to God. Matthew 6:1

Because this is how it feels when your elders turn their backs, when institutions fall from grace, when the world moves on even as you’re standing still, when something you believe in turns out to be a lie. Because you’re no longer a child, and you’re realizing the world you live in operates in shades of gray. Sometimes, there isn’t a right or a wrong—there’s only doing the best you can in spite of the odds stacked up against you and forgiving yourself when you fall short.

Dolor. Una palabra. Cinco letras, y un sinfín de sensaciones en su mayoría agobiantes. Una mezcla entre algo que te destruye y una de aquellas cosas que te marcan de por vida. Porque sí. Puede ser una palabra, pero cada dolor es distinto.

The Ingallses had no way of knowing it, but the locust swarm descending upon them was the largest in recorded human history. It would become known as “Albert’s swarm”: in Nebraska, a meteorologist named Albert Child measured its flight for ten days in June, telegraphing for further information from east and west, noting wind speed and carefully calculating the extent of the cloud of insects. He startled himself with his conclusions: the swarm appeared to be 110 miles wide, 1,800 miles long, and a quarter to a half mile in depth. The wind was blowing at ten miles an hour, but the locusts were moving even faster, at fifteen. They covered 198,000 square miles, Child concluded, an area equal to the states of Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont combined.49 “This is utterly incredible,” he wrote, “yet how can we put it aside?”50 The cloud consisted of some 3.5 trillion insects.

For Marquez, the transition from standing around to dancing was instantaneous and total. It wasn't about looking cool, it was about losing all contact with the normal world, gong away to a place where her body and mind and the music were all the same thing.

We do not want to go to the right or left,” he said, “but straight back to our own country!” A few days later, on June 1, a treaty was drawn up. The Navajos agreed to live on a new reservation whose borders were considerably smaller than their traditional lands, with all four of the sacred mountains outside the reservation line. Still, it was a vast domain, nearly twenty-five thousand square miles, an area nearly the size of the state of Ohio. After Barboncito, Manuelito, and the other headmen left their X marks on the treaty, Sherman told the Navajos they were free to go home. June 18 was set as the departure date. The Navajos would have an army escort to feed and protect them. But some of them were so restless to get started that the night before they were to leave, they hiked ten miles in the direction of home, and then circled back to camp—they were so giddy with excitement they couldn’t help themselves. The next morning the trek began. In yet another mass exodus, this one voluntary and joyful, the entire Navajo Nation began marching the nearly four hundred miles toward home. The straggle of exiles spread out over ten miles. Somewhere in the midst of it walked Barboncito, wearing his new moccasins. When they reached the Rio Grande and saw Blue Bead Mountain for the first time, the Navajos fell to their knees and wept. As Manuelito put it, “We wondered if it was our mountain, and we felt like talking to the ground, we loved it so.” They continued marching in the direction the coyote had run, toward the country they had told their young children so much about. And as they marched, they chanted—

We maintain therefore that in matters of Religion, no man’s right is abridged by the institution of Civil Society, and that Religion is wholly exempt from its cognizance. True it is, that no other rule exists, by which any question which may divide a Society, can be ultimately determined, but the will of the majority; but it is also true, that the majority may trespass on the rights of the minority. ...Because it is proper to take alarm at the first experiment on our liberties. We hold this prudent jealousy to be the first duty of Citizens, and one of the noblest characteristics of the late Revolution. The free men of America did not wait till usurped power had strengthened itself by exercise, and entangled the question in precedents. They saw all the consequences in the principle, and they avoided the consequences by denying the principle. We revere this lesson too much soon to forget it. Who does not see that the same authority which can establish Christianity, in exclusion of all other Religions, may establish with the same ease any particular sect of Christians, in exclusion of all other Sects? that the same authority which can force a citizen to contribute three pence only of his property for the support of any one establishment, may force him to conform to any other establishment in all cases whatsoever? ...Because experience witnesseth that ecclesiastical establishments, instead of maintaining the purity and efficacy of Religion, have had a contrary operation. During almost fifteen centuries has the legal establishment of Christianity been on trial. What have been its fruits? More or less in all places, pride and indolence in the Clergy, ignorance and servility in the laity, in both, superstition, bigotry and persecution. ...What influence in fact have ecclesiastical establishments had on Civil Society? In some instances they have been seen to erect a spiritual tyranny on the ruins of the Civil authority; in many instances they have been seen upholding the thrones of political tyranny: in no instance have they been seen the guardians of the liberties of the people. Rulers who wished to subvert the public liberty, may have found an established Clergy convenient auxiliaries. A just Government instituted to secure & perpetuate it needs them not. Such a Government will be best supported by protecting every Citizen in the enjoyment of his Religion with the same equal hand which protects his person and his property; by neither invading the equal rights of any Sect, nor suffering any Sect to invade those of another. [Memorial and Remonstrance Against Religious Assessments, 20 June 1785. This was written in response to a proposed bill that would establish 'teachers of the Christian religion', violating the 1st Amendment's establishment clause]

Months later… I try my best to enjoy summer vacation, knowing that in a few weeks I’ll be heading into the last semester of my senior year. I should’ve graduated in June, but because Robbie and I moved around during my freshman year, I fell behind a semester. Even though I won’t graduate and walk across the stage until December, my eighteenth birthday is only a few weeks away. That’s when I’ll be forced to leave the house. After the fallout with Cain back in January, I haven’t heard from him other than the few times he came by with gifts and tried to see me.

Most of the population of the Strip is not originally from there, but rather from a swath of villages in the southern regions of Israel, whose inhabitants were driven or fled there during the fighting of 1948–49, and who were never allowed to return to their homes. The Gaza Strip is thus not only a victim of a forty-year occupation that started in June 1967. Most of its 1.5 million people constitute the single largest concentration of the refugees produced as a direct, inevitable result of creating a Jewish state in 1948 in a country with a nearly two-thirds Arab majority.

how nice to meet you, neil. it will be a while before we see each other again.” “somehow i don’t think i’m that lucky.” “like this. it will have to wait until june. abby threatened to revoke our stadium rights for the summer if we break you sooner than that. can’t have that, can we? kevin would cry. no worries. we’ll wait until everyone’s here and abby has to many other foxes to worry about. then we’ll throw you a welcome party you won’t forget.” “you need to rethink your persuasion techniques. they suck.” “i don’t need to be persuasive. you’ll just learn to do what i say.

Oppenheimer’s anguish was real and deep. He felt a personal responsibility for the consequences of his work at Los Alamos. Every day the newspaper headlines gave him evidence that the world might once again be on the road to war. “Every American knows that if there is another major war,” he wrote in the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists on June 1, 1946, “atomic weapons will be used. . . .” This meant, he argued, that the real task at hand was the elimination of war itself. “We know this because in the last war, the two nations which we like to think are the most enlightened and humane in the world—Great Britain and the United States—used atomic weapons against an enemy which was essentially defeated.” He had made this observation earlier in a speech at Los Alamos, but to publish it in 1946 was an extraordinary admission. Less than a year after the events of August 1945, the man who had instructed the bombardiers exactly how to drop their atomic bombs on the center of two Japanese cities had come to the conclusion that he had supported the use of atomic weapons against “an enemy which was essentially defeated. ” This realization weighed heavily on him.

¿Acaso sufrimos por lo que no tenemos, o por lo que podríamos haber hecho diferente? ¿Acaso eso es lo que lamentamos? ¿Sufrir? ¿O lo que lamentamos es dejarnos sucumbir por algo que no tenemos? Tal vez, si pensamos, dolor y deseo son dos cosas que se parecen más de lo que podemos imaginar.

Fear makes us feel weak and helpless and causes us to think we are alone in the world. But God has assured us that His Spirit in us is greater than any worldly power (1 John 4:4). Whenever we become discouraged by the evil we can see, we need to think instead about the good work God is doing that we cannot see.

You're hot." 'You're pretty hot too" His eyebrows did that question mark thing again. "What?" My stomach started to cramp because sometimes your body is slightly ahead of your brain. My stomach knew that something had gone terribly, mortifyingly wrong. My brain, on the other hand, plowed ahead on the path of self-destruction and took my mouth with it. "You said I'm hot. I said you're hot, too" His eyes grew wide and a little blush of color came to his cheeks. "No, I asked if you were hot because it's June and you're wearing a sweater." Please, God, make the death by duck shit quick, or fuck it, make it slow and agonising, but let's get it started.

Here are three things I know for sure: 1. When I was born, someone- I like to think it was my mother- wrapped me in a blue ball gown. 2. There is a color in this world that was named after a king's daughter, who always wore gowns that were made of exactly the same shade of blue. The stories about her make me wish sometimes I could have been friends with her; she smoked in public (at a time when women didn't), once jumped fully clothed into a swimming pool with the captain of a ship, often wore a boa constrictor around her neck, and another time shot at telegraph poles from a moving train. 3. My favorite story goes like this: once, on an island not far from here, there was a queen who climbed a tree waiting for her husband to return from a battle. She tied herself to a branch and vowed to remain there until he returned. She waited for so long that she slowly transformed into an orchid, which was an exact replica of the pattern on the blue gown she was wearing. Here's one more thing that I know for sure is true. On the day June told us she was going to hospital to bring you home, I was in the workshop pressing blue lady orchids. I've always loved them best because their centres are my favorite color: the color of the gown I was once wrapped in. The color of a king's wayward daughter favored. A color called Alice blue.

I conceive myself entitled to repeat, now that the results are known, the opinions which I put on record before all these battles were fought. I wrote to the Prime Minister on December 29, 1914, as follows: ‘I think it quite possible that neither side will have the strength to penetrate the other’s lines in the Western theatre… Without attempting to take a final view, my impression is that the position of both armies is not likely to undergo any decisive change.’ And in June, 1915: ‘It is a fair general conclusion that the deadlock in the West will continue for some time and the side which risks most to pierce the lines of the other will put itself at a disadvantage.

Finally, in late May or early June our breathlessly anticipated gilt-edged invitation to the July 29 wedding arrived. Soon after, we received a silver-edged card inviting us to a private formal ball at Buckingham Palace two nights before the wedding. We had been expecting the first invitation but were totally surprised by the second one. For both invitations, we had to reply to the Lord Chamberlain, Saint James’s Palace, London, SW1. For the wedding, dress was specified as: Uniform, Morning Dress or Lounge Suit. For the ball, dress was: Uniform or Evening Dress. Tiaras Optional. We had no idea what a “lounge suit” was, nor did I have a tiara handy—fortunately tiaras were optional. Help!

who could blame them if they said "the hell with the rest of the world." Let somebody else buy the bonds. Let somebody else build or repair foreign dams, or design foreign buildings that won't shake apart in earthquakes." When the railways of France, and Germany, and India were breaking down through age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose. Both of 'em are still broke. I can name to you 5,000 times when the Americans raced to the help of other people in trouble. Can you name to me even one time when someone else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside help even during the San Francisco earthquake. Our neighbors have faced it alone, and I am one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them kicked around. They'll come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do, they're entitled to thumb their noses at the lands that are gloating over their present troubles. I hope Canada is not one of these. But there are many smug, self-righteous Canadians. And finally, the American Red Cross was told at its 48th Annual meeting in New Orleans this morning that it was broke. This year's disasters -- with the year less than half-over -- has taken it all. And nobody, but nobody, has helped. -  Gordon Sinclair via Radio Broadcast June 5, 1973 from Ontario, Canada

Dunkirk was to hold out until the day on which all the Allied troops in the pocket who could embark to Britain had done so. Ramsay and the British Government initially assumed that no more than 45,000 troops could be saved, but over the nine days between dawn on Sunday, 26 May and 03.30 on Tuesday, 4 June, no fewer than 338,226 Allied soldiers were rescued from death or capture, 118,000 of whom were French, Belgian and Dutch. Operation Dynamo – so named because Ramsay’s bunker at Dover had housed electrical equipment during the Great War – was the largest military evacuation in history so far, and a fine logistical achievement, especially as daylight sailings had to be suspended on 1 June due to heavy Luftwaffe attacks.

The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, rejoicing with all their hearts in the cloudless sunshine, like friendly little neighbors, as they were. Quite flushed with excitement were their ruddy faces, as they swung in the wind, whispering to one another what they had seen; for some peeped in at the dining-room windows, where the feast was spread, some climbed up to nod and smile at the sisters as they dressed the bride, others waved a welcome to those who came and went on various errands in garden, porch, and hall, and all, from the rosiest full-blown flower to the palest baby-bud, offered their tribute of beauty and fragrance to the gentle mistress who had loved and tended them for so long.

I want to know what sort of Miscreation he was. And how he became an IntelliGene. I have his genes. It's part of who I am." "Is it?" asks Simon. His blue-green eyes turn hard... "My father was an IntelliGene and a scumbag who hit my mum and made her cry. I was glad when he had the affair and left us. So what if I have his genes? I'm not my father. I choose not to be like him.

At the beginning of June 1944 electronics came to Bletchley. I was totally out of my depth there, but with various discreet questions from my esoteric sources, I gathered that our present Bombes were electromagnetic and that Professor Alan Turing, along with the electronic wizard T. E. Flowers of the Post Office Research Station at Dollis Hill, were working together desperately anxious to speed up the process of decipherment. Tommy Flowers decided to employ 1,500 thermionic valves instead of the electromagnetic relays. These apparently propelled the undertaking into the world of electronics and thus Colossus was born. The speed of decryption of this machine was remarkable and Colossus began operating at B.P. in February 1944, followed by Mark II using 2,400 valves. By the end of the war ten Colossi were in service at Bletchley. I am still bemused and confounded but thank God for Tommy Flowers and Alan Turing.

Unwashed and undernourished, having spent over four days on five different trains and four military jeeps, Alexander got off at Molotov on Friday, June 19, 1942. He arrived at noon and then sat on a wooden bench near the station. Alexander couldn’t bring himself to walk to Lazarevo. He could not bear the thought of her dying in Kobona, getting out of the collapsed city and then dying so close to salvation. He could not face it. And worse—he knew that he could not face himself if he found out that she did not make it. He could not face returning—returning to what? Alexander actually thought of getting on the next train and going back immediately. The courage to move forward was much more than the courage he needed to stand behind a Katyusha rocket launcher or a Zenith antiaircraft gun on Lake Ladoga and know that any of the Luftwaffe planes flying overhead could instantly bring about his death. He was not afraid of his own death. He was afraid of hers. The specter of her death took away his courage. If Tatiana was dead, it meant God was dead, and Alexander knew he could not survive an instant during war in a universe governed by chaos, not purpose. He would not live any longer than poor, hapless Grinkov, who had been cut down by a stray bullet as he headed back to the rear. War was the ultimate chaos, a pounding, soul-destroying snarl, ending in blown-apart men lying unburied on the cold earth. There was nothing more cosmically chaotic than war. But Tatiana was order. She was finite matter in infinite space. Tatiana was the standard-bearer for the flag of grace and valor that she carried forward with bounty and perfection in herself, the flag Alexander had followed sixteen hundred kilometers east to the Kama River, to the Ural Mountains, to Lazarevo. For two hours Alexander sat on the bench in unpaved, provincial, oak-lined Molotov. To go back was impossible. To go forward was unthinkable. Yet he had nowhere else to go. He crossed himself and stood up, gathering his belongings. When Alexander finally walked in the direction of Lazarevo, not knowing whether Tatiana was alive or dead, he felt he was a man walking to his own execution.

She got up and went to her tiny kitchen. On the way she turned on her radio. "You want something to eat?" she called over her shoulder. "What do you have?" "Um..." She opened her refrigerator. "Milk, yogurt, and wilted lettuce." She checked her cupboard. "Cheerios. Instant grits. Sorry-- I figured that since this is technically the South, I should try grits. Ah-hah! Pop-Tarts." "Pop-Tarts! All right," he said enthusiastically. He came to join her as she loaded the toaster. "Life. It just doesn't get any better than this. You and Pop-Tarts.

Fine. But remember what I said about no murder cars. Anthony needs to work on his technique for scrubbing evidence," I said while teasingly nudging Anthony. "I am very good about cleaning up DNA," he protested. "You kept a dead girl’s clothes in your death dungeon," I replied dryly. "Seriously, have you listened to any of my podcasts?" "Hey now. You looked hot in her clothes. And it’s a good thing I had them. You would’ve had to dispose of a dead body while naked," he popped back before staring at me with a...confusing expression. "Oh shit, I just got a boner.

She cupped my face. “Wilbur, you are so sexy when you’re not pretending to be an eighties butt-rocker.” “You know what’s not sexy?” “What?” she said on a breath between laying kisses on my cheek. “June pooping on the floor.” Mia jumped off my lap and darted over to the kitchen, screeching in her highest voice. “No, no, no, Juney.” She caught our little puppy mid-poop and picked her up, held her arms out and screamed, “What do I do?” There was no way Mia would be able to get June outside without leaving a trail of poop in her wake. “Put her over the toilet!” I followed her as she ran down the hallway and into our tiny bathroom at the end. She held the squirming puppy over the toilet until the doggie business was complete. Setting June on the ground, she glanced up at me, frowned, and then mumbled, “I’m gonna be a terrible mother.” I helped her up and then stood behind her at the sink as she washed her hands. “No, you’re going to be perfect.” I smirked when she looked at me in the mirror. “You did exactly the right thing. First you screamed and charged at her with your arms flailing around, and then you basically held her by the neck while you ran around in a circle yelling. That is exactly what you will probably do if the same situation happens to play out with one of our babies.” “Thanks a lot.

Anthony Fauci seems to have not considered that his unprecedented quarantine of the healthy would kill far more people than COVID, obliterate the global economy, plunge millions into poverty and bankruptcy, and grievously wound constitutional democracy globally. We have no way of knowing how many people died from isolation, unemployment, deferred medical care, depression, mental illness, obesity, stress, overdoses, suicide, addiction, alcoholism, and the accidents that so often accompany despair. We cannot dismiss the accusations that his lockdowns proved more deadly than the contagion. A June 24, 2021 BMJ study22 showed that US life expectancy decreased by 1.9 years during the quarantine. Since COVID mortalities were mainly among the elderly, and the average age of death from COVID in the UK was 82.4, which was above the average lifespan,23 the virus could not by itself cause the astonishing decline. As we shall see, Hispanic and Black Americans often shoulder the heaviest burden of Dr. Fauci’s public health adventures. In this respect, his COVID-19 countermeasures proved no exception. Between 2018 and 2020, the average Hispanic American lost around 3.9 years in longevity, while the average lifespan of a Black American dropped by 3.25 years.24 This dramatic culling was unique to America. Between 2018 and 2020, the 1.9 year decrease in average life expectancy at birth in the US was roughly 8.5 times the average decrease in 16 comparable countries, all of which were measured in months, not years.25

Summer gazed around more closely, looking less at the wreck of the ship and more at all the living things on or around or within it. Tiny shells clustered on the hull, each a living creature; the octopus that scuttled along, a liquid flurry of graceful motion; the amazing snail that crept toward her foot. There were small forests of soft, willowy plants that made home for crabs and squid and rays. Fish, big and small, alone or in schools, darted in and out, up and down, crossing between her and the sun above like flights of birds. In a single moment of awareness she realised that the dead ship was no longer dead. The machine that had failed to protect its human cargo now protected an entire universe of colourful, indescribably strange, stunningly creative, incredible life.

free.” On the edge of town, Fitzgerald saw a sight “that has never left my memory. It was a picture story of the death of one 82nd Airborne trooper. He had occupied a German foxhole and made it his personal Alamo. In a half circle around the hole lay the bodies of nine German soldiers. The body closest to the hole was only three feet away, a potato masher [grenade] in its fist.II The other distorted forms lay where they had fallen, testimony to the ferocity of the fight. His ammunition bandoliers were still on his shoulders, empty of M-1 clips. Cartridge cases littered the ground. His rifle stock was broken in two. He had fought alone and, like many others that night, he had died alone. “I looked at his dog tags. The name read Martin V. Hersh. I wrote the name down in a small prayer book I carried, hoping someday I would meet someone who knew him. I never did.”34

I’ve put down half a pitcher of water by the time she comes to take my order. She fills another pitcher and sets it in front of me, standing with her pen in her hand, distracted, waiting for me to order. It’s early afternoon and well north of 100 degrees. Perusing the menu, I comment on the heat. “Man, it’s hot out there.” Setting her order pad down on the counter, crossing her arms, tapping the back of her pen against her lower lip, she looks out the window at my bike leaning there. Her eyes drift to mine with that look women can give men. You know the look, the one that says, “I’m wondering if you’re trying to act dumb, or if you really might be that dumb.” Not necessarily mean, just curious. I smile sheepishly beneath the pressure of the question behind her look. Every man reading these words knows exactly what I’m talking about here. You get the look, so you know you’ve said or done something really stupid, but you don’t have a clue what it is you’ve done or said that is so outrageously idiotic. Which just makes it worse. She sees all this wash across my face, and a small smile plays at the corners of her face. Still tapping the pen against her lower lip, she brings her elbows down to rest on the bar, leaning in a little closer to me, as if letting me in on her secret. “Honey, it’s June. It’s the hottest month in the Sonoran Desert.” Pausing, she looks again at my bicycle leaning against her window. “You’re riding a bicycle across the black asphalt in the hottest desert in the hottest month.” She pauses there, looking into my eyes, raising one eyebrow, letting me know a question is coming. “What, exactly, did you expect?” Hmmm. Good point. I might have heard those words whispered to me by the desert itself earlier today. “Right,” I say, closing the menu and handing it to her, keeping my eyes on hers. “I’ll take the burger.” We smile at each other as she takes the menu.

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Leonard H. Stringfield 1)Retrievals of the Third Kind: A Case Study of Alleged UFOs and Occupants in Military Custody. The first formal research paper presented publicly on the subject of UFO crash/retrievals at the MUFON Symposium, Dayton, Ohio, July, 1978. Original edition, dated April, 1978, was published in MUFON Proceedings (1978). Address: MUFON, 103 Oldtowne Road, Seguin, Texas 78155. If available, price___________. 2)Retrievals of the Third Kind: A Case Study of Alleged UFOs and Occupants in Military Custody,Status Report I. Revised edition, July, 1978, word processed copy, 34 pages. Available at author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. 3)UFO Crash/Retrieval Syndrome, Status Report II. Published by MUFON. Flexible cover, typeset, illustrations, 37 pages. Available only at MUFON address: 103 Oldtowne Road, Seguin, Texas 78155. Price, USA___________. 4)UFO Crash/Retrievals: Amassing the Evidence, Status Report III, June 1982; flexible cover, typeset, illustrations, 53 pages. Available from author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. 5)The Fatal Encounter at Ft. Dix -- McGuire: A Case Study, Status Report IV, June, 1985. Paper presented at MUFON Symposium, St. Louis, Missouri, 1985. Xeroxed copy, 26 pages. Available at author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. 6)UFO Crash/Retrievals: Is the Coverup Lid Lifting? Status Report V. Published in MUFON UFO Journal, January, 1989, with updated addendum. Xeroxed copy, 23 pages. Available at author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. 7)Inside Saucer Post, 3-0 Blue. Book privately published, 1957. Review of author's early research and cooperative association with the Air Defense Command Filter Center, using code name, FOX TROT KILO 3-0 BLUE. Flexible cover, typeset, illustrations, 94 pages. Available from author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. 8)Situation Red: The UFO Siege. Hardcover book published by Doubleday & Co., 1977. Paperback edition published by Fawcett Crest Books, 1977. Also foreign publishers. Out of print, not available. 9)Orbit Newsletter, published monthly, 1954-1957, by author for international sale and distribution. Set of 36 issues. Some issues out of stock, duplicated by xerox. Available at author's address -- see below. Price of set, USA___________. 10)UFO Crash/Retrievals: The Inner Sanctum, Status Report VI, July, 1991; flexible cover, book length, 81.000 words, 142 (8-1/2 X 11) pages, illustrated. Privately published. Available from author's address. See below. Price, USA___________. Prices include postage and handling. Mailings to Canada, add 500 for each item ordered. All foreign orders, payable U.S. funds, International money order or draft on U.S. Bank. Recommend Air Mail outside U.S. territories. Check on price. Leonard H. Stringfield 4412 Grove Avenue Cincinnati, Ohio 45227 USA Telephone: (513) 271-4248