Kings Coronation Quotes

Do not wait for a coronation; the greatest emperors crown themselves.

Then Frodo came forward and took the crown from Faramir and bore it to Gandalf; and Aragorn knelt, and Gandalf set the White Crown upon his head and said: Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!

The husband is the head of the wife just in so far as he is to her what Christ is to the Church - read on - and give his life for her (Eph. V, 25). This headship, then, is most fully embodied not in the husband we should all wish to be but in him whose marriage is most like a crucifixion; whose wife receives most and gives least, is most unworthy of him, is - in her own mere nature - least lovable. For the Church has not beauty but what the Bride-groom gives her; he does not find, but makes her, lovely. The chrism of this terrible coronation is to be seen not in the joys of any man's marriage but in its sorrows, in the sickness and sufferings of a good wife or the faults of a bad one, in his unwearying (never paraded) care or his inexhaustible forgiveness: forgiveness, not acquiescence. As Christ sees in the flawed, proud, fanatical or lukewarm Church on earth that Bride who will one day be without spot or wrinkle, and labours to produce the latter, so the husband whose headship is Christ-like (and he is allowed no other sort) never despairs. He is a King Cophetua who after twenty years still hopes that the beggar-girl will one day learn to speak the truth and wash behind her ears.

The eyes were hollow and the carven head was broken, but about the high, stern forehead there was a coronal of silver and gold. A trailing plant with flowers like white stars had bound itself across the brows as if in reverence for the fallen king, and in the crevices of his stony hair yellow stonecrop gleamed. "They cannot conquer for ever!" said Frodo.

The two soldiers laughed, and even the king smiled. Reinforcing Costis's suspicion that Eugenides had been responsible for Ornon's lost sheep, Boagus asked, "Do you still baa like a lamb when he walks into the room?" Eugenides shook his head. "Ornon took me aside first thing after the coronation and explained that it would be against my dignity." Aulus and Boagus stared. Eugenides expression was bland. "He said that?" Aulus asked. "He did," the king confirmed. "What did you say?" Boagus asked suspiciously. "I promised to bark like a sheepdog instead." The Eddisians chuckled again. "You don't, though?" Aulus had to ask. The king eyed him with disgust. "Give me some credit," He said, and when Aulus was visibly relieved, added, "Not when anybody else can hear me.

I first started liking you when we went to talk to the rulers of the low Courts,” I say. “You were funny, which was weird. And when we went to Hollow Hall, you were clever. I kept remembering how you’d been the one to get us out of the brugh after Dain’s coronation, right before I put that knife to your throat.” He doesn’t try to interrupt, so I have no choice but to barrel on. “After I tricked you into being the High King,” I say. “I thought once you hated me, I could go back to hating you. But I didn’t. And I felt so stupid. I thought I would get my heart broken. I thought it was a weakness that you would use against me. But then you saved me from the Undersea when it would have been much more convenient to just leave me to rot. After that, I started to hope my feelings were returned. But then there was the exile—” I take a ragged breath. “I hid a lot, I guess. I thought if I didn’t, if I let myself love you, I would burn up like a match. Like the whole matchbook.” “But now you’ve explained it,” he says. “And you do love me.” “I love you,” I confirm. “Because I am clever and funny,” he says, smiling. “You didn’t mention my handsomeness.” “Or your deliciousness,” I say. “Although those are both good qualities.

Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked. “Do you really have an answer?” he countered. “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.” “But it was my uncle’s.” “You’re not your uncle.” “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused. “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

Think of that, ye loyal Britons! we whalemen supply your kings and queens with coronation stuff!

Like most Middle Eastern kings, the king of Judah was raised to a semidivine “state of exception” during the coronation ritual, when he became Yahweh’s adopted son and a member of the Divine Assembly of gods.

I came and knelt at the king's feet, and when he put the crown on my head, I felt that he had just honoured all the women of Iran. Only four years earlier we had been in the same category of the mentally handicapped: we did not even have the basic right of choosing our representatives. The crown wiped out centuries of humiliation; more surely than any law, it solemnly affirmed the equality of men and women.

Suddenly, caught by the level beams, Frodo saw the old king’s head: it was lying rolled away by the roadside. ‘Look, Sam!’ he cried, startled into speech. ‘Look! The king has got a crown again!’ “The eyes were hollow and the carven beard was broken, but about the high stern forehead there was a coronal of silver and gold. A trailing plant with flowers like small white stars had bound itself across the brows as if in reverence for the fallen king, and in the crevices of his stony hair yellow stonecrop gleamed. “‘They cannot conquer for ever!’ said Frodo.

I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again.. I promised I would do this the first moment I could. 'I love you,' I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush. Cardan looks taken aback. Or possibly I spoke so fast he's not even sure what I said. 'You need not say it out of pity,' he says finally, with great deliberateness. 'Or because I was under a curse. I have asked you to lie to me in the past, in this very room, but I would beg you not to lie now.' My cheeks heat at the memory of those lies. 'I have not made myself easy to love,' he says, and I hear the echo of his mother's words in his. When I imagined telling him, I thought I would say the words, and it would be like pulling off a bandage- painful and swift. But I didn't think he would doubt me. 'I first started liking you when we went to talk to the rulers of the low Courts,' I say. 'You were funny, which was weird. And when we went to Hollow Hall, you were clever. I kept remembering how you'd been the one to get us out of the brugh after Dain's coronation, right before I put the knife to your throat.' He doesn't try to interrupt, so I have to choice but to barrel on. 'After I tricked you into being High King,' I say. 'I thought once you hated me, I could go back to hating you. But I didn't. And I felt so stupid. I thought I would get my heart broken. I thought it was a weakness that you would use against me. But then you saved me from the Undersea when it would have been much more convenient to just leave me to rot. After that, I started to hope my feelings were returned. But then there was the exile-' I take a ragged breath. 'I hid a lot, I guess. I thought if I didn't, if I let myself love you, I would burn up like a match. Like the whole matchbook.' 'But now you've explained it,' he says. 'And you do love me.' 'I love you,' I confirm. 'Because I am clever and funny,' he says, smiling. 'You didn't mention my handsomeness.' 'Or your deliciousness,' I say. 'Although those are both good qualities.' He pulls me to him, so that we're both lying on the couch. I look down at the blackness of his eyes and the softness of his mouth. I wipe a fleck of dried blood from the top of one pointed ear. 'What was it like?' I ask. 'Being a serpent.' He hesitates. 'It was like being trapped in the dark,' he says. 'I was alone, and my instinct was to lash out. I was perhaps not entirely an animal, but neither was I myself. I could not reason. There was only feelings- hatred and terror and the desire to destroy.' I start to speak, but he stops me with a gesture. 'And you.' He looks at me, his lips curving in something that's not quite a smile; it's more and less than that. 'I knew little else, but I always knew you.' And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again.

A king was the Lord’s anointed, hallowed at his coronation with holy oil.

In a voice astringent with contempt, Shacket said, “You say contaminated, I say coronated.” “Coronated? Crowned? Made king of what?” “Of all that will come to be.

she was as welcome as a corpse is to a coroner.

Coronated? Crowned? Made king of what?” “Of all that will come to be.

A king...we need a king...Such delicious eyebrows...He's only got to ask...Hahahaha He's only got to wish...and the crown is hisssss.

Let us now proceed to the coronation of King Frank of Narnia

The coronation took place at noon the following day. The Hall of the Rivan King was full to overflowing with nobles and royalty, and the city below was alive with the sound of bells. Garion could not actually remember very much of his coronation. He did remember that the ermine-bordered cape was hot and the plain gold crown the Rivan Deacon placed on his head was very heavy

People who attempted to end their lives, no matter how amateurishly they might do so at first, often got better at it, with the result that on the third, fourth or sixth try, they ended up on a slab with a coroner poking around their remains.

It is well known that at the coronation of kings and queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for their functions is gone through. There is a saltcellar of state, so called, and there may be a caster of state. How they use the salt, precisely—who knows? Certain I am, however, that a king's head is solemnly oiled at his coronation, even as a head of salad. Can it be, though, that they anoint it with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint machinery?

It is well known that at the coronation of kings and queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for their functions is gone through. There is a saltcellar of state, so called, and there may be a caster of state. How they use the salt, precisely--who knows? Certain I am, however, that a king's head is solemnly oiled at his coronation, even as a head of salad. Can it be, though, that they anoint it with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint machinery? Much might be ruminated here, concerning the essential dignity of this regal process, because in common life we esteem but meanly and contemptibly a fellow who anoints his hair, and palpably smells of that anointing. In truth, a mature man who uses hair-oil, unless medicinally, that man has probably got a quoggy spot in him somewhere. As a general rule, he can't amount to much in his totality.

MOYERS: A new king or new queen of England is given the coronation ring. CAMPBELL: Yes, because there’s another aspect of the ring—it is a bondage. As king, you are bound to a principle. You are living not simply your own way. You have been marked. In initiation rites, when people are sacrificed and tattooed, they are bonded to another and to the society.

People whose desire is solely for self-realisation never know where they are going. They can’t know. In one sense of the word it is of course necessary, as the Greek oracle said, to know oneself: that is the first achievement of knowledge. But to recognise that the soul of a man is unknowable, is the ultimate achievement of wisdom. The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul? When the son went out to look for his father’s asses, he did not know that a man of God was waiting for him with the very chrism of coronation, and that his own soul was already the soul of a king.

This is the history of governments, - one man does something which is to bind another. A man who cannot be acquainted with me, taxes me; looking from afar at me, ordains that a part of my labour shall go to this or that whimsical end, not as I, but as he happens to fancy. Behold the consequence. Of all debts, men are least willing to pay the taxes. What a satire is this on government! Everywhere they think they get their money's worth, except for these. Hence, the less government we have, the better, - the fewer laws, and the less confided power. The antidote to this abuse of formal Government, is, the influence of private character, the growth of the Individual; the appearance of the principal to supersede the proxy; the appearance of the wise man, of whom the existing government, is, it must be owned, but a shabby imitation. That which all things tend to educe, which freedom, cultivation, intercourse, revolutions, go to form and deliver, is character; that is the end of nature, to reach unto this coronation of her king. To educate the wise man, the State exists; and with the appearance of the wise man, the State expires. The appearance of character makes the State unnecessary. The wise man is the State. He needs no army, fort, or navy, - he loves men too well; no bribe, or feast, or palace, to draw friends to him; no vantage ground, no favourable circumstance. He needs no library, for he has not done thinking; no church, for he is a prophet; no statute book, for he has the lawgiver; no money, for he is value; no road, for he is at home where he is; no experience, for the life of the creator shoots through him, and looks from his eyes. He has no personal friends, for he who has the spell to draw the prayer and piety of all men unto him, needs not husband and educate a few, to share with him a select and poetic life. His relation to men is angelic; his memory is myrrh to them; his presence, frankincense and flowers.

And thither, ere sweet night had slain sweet day, Iseult and Tristram took their wandering way, And rested, and refreshed their hearts with cheer In hunters' fashion of the woods; and here More sweet it seemed, while this might be, to dwell And take of all world's weariness farewell Than reign of all world's lordship queen and king. Nor here would time for three moon's changes bring Sorrow nor thought of sorrow; but sweet earth Fostered them like her babes of eldest birth, Reared warm in pathless woods and cherished well. And the sun sprang above the sea and fell, And the stars rose and sank upon the sea; And outlaw-like, in forest wise and free, The rising and the setting of their lights Found those twain dwelling all those days and nights. And under change of sun and star and moon Flourished and fell the chaplets woven of June, And fair through fervours of the deepening sky Panted and passed the hours that lit July, And each day blessed them out of heaven above, And each night crowned them with the crown of love. Nor till the might of August overhead Weighed on the world was yet one roseleaf shed Of all their joy's warm coronal, nor aught Touched them in passing ever with a thought That ever this might end on any day Or any night not love them where they lay; But like a babbling tale of barren breath Seemed all report and rumour held of death, And a false bruit the legend tear impearled That such a thing as change was in the world.

True scholars know that such dating is far from precise. Aegon Targaryen’s conquest of the Seven Kingdoms did not take place in a single day. More than two years passed between Aegon’s landing and his Oldtown coronation … and even then the Conquest remained incomplete, since Dorne remained unsubdued. Sporadic attempts to bring the Dornishmen into the realm continued all through King Aegon’s reign and well into the reigns of his sons, making it impossible to fix a precise end date for the Wars of Conquest.

Look,” she said. They both looked, but almost at once Drinian said in a low voice: “Turn round at once, your Majesties--that’s right, with our backs to the sea. And don’t look as if we were talking about anything important.” “Why, what’s the matter?” said Lucy as she obeyed. “It’ll never do for the sailors to see all that,” said Drinian. “We’ll have men falling in love with a sea-woman, or falling in love with the under-sea country itself, and jumping overboard. I’ve heard of that kind of thing happening before in strange seas. It’s always unlucky to see these people.” “But we used to know them,” said Lucy. “In the old days at Cair Paravel when my brother Peter was High King. They came to the surface and sang at our coronation.” “I think that must have been a different kind, Lu,” said Edmund. “They could live in the air as well as under water. I rather think these can’t. By the look of them they’d have surfaced and started attacking us long ago if they could. They seem very fierce.” “At any rate,” began Drinian, but at that moment two sounds were heard. One was a plop. The other was a voice from the fighting-top shouting, “Man overboard!” Then everyone was busy. Some of the sailors hurried aloft to take in the sail; others hurried below to get to the oars; and Rhince, who was on duty on the poop, began to put the helm hard over so as to come round and back to the man who had gone overboard. But by now everyone knew that it wasn’t strictly a man. It was Reepicheep. “Drat that mouse!” said Drinian. “It’s more trouble than all the rest of the ship’s company put together.

Those seven words were spoken with quiet confidence that either confirmed Shacket’s insanity or belied it. Carson was disturbed to find that he could not be sure which. “Whatever happened to you,” Carson said, “whatever you’ve been coronated with—are you communicable?” “So this is why you’re here. Ready to inflame the population with fear of a plague.” Shacket shook his head and looked again at the window. “You’re getting tiresome, Doctor.” “No bacteria, no viruses?” “When a king coughs, does he then infect those around him with royalty?

By the time the Shah staged his belated coronation … Iran’s rate of economic growth outstripped those of the United States, Great Britain, and France. Critics who had once dismissed Iran’s King as a callow playboy now applauded his achievements and acumen. ‘We are delighted to salute the Shah of Iran on the day of his Coronation,’ declared Britain’s ‘Daily Mail. ‘During his 26-year reign he never once involved his country in war. He has shown the way to beat hunger, want, squalor, and disease by methods from which other countries could learn.

It is well known that at the coronation of kings and queens, even modern ones, a certain curious process of seasoning them for their functions is gone through. There is a saltcellar of state, so called, and there may be a castor of state. How they use the salt, precisely—who knows? Certain I am, however, that a king’s head is solemnly oiled at his coronation, even as a head of salad. Can it be, though, that they anoint it with a view of making its interior run well, as they anoint machinery? Much might be ruminated here, concerning the essential dignity of this regal process, because in common life we esteem but meanly and contemptibly a fellow who anoints his hair, and palpably smells of that anointing. In

But when Aragorn arose all that beheld him gazed in silence, for it seemed to them that he was revealed to them now for the first time. Tall as the sea-kings of old, he stood above all that were near; ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was about him. And then Faramir cried: 'Behold the King!' And in that moment all the trumpets were blown, and the King Elessar went forth and came to the barrier, and Húrin of the Keys thrust it back; and amid the music of harp and of viol and of flute and the singing of clear voices the King passed through the flower-laden streets, and came to the Citadel, and entered in; and the banner of the Tree and the Stars was unfurled upon the topmost tower, and the reign of King Elessar began, of which many songs have told. In his time the City was made more fair than it had ever been, even in the days of its first glory; and it was filled with trees and with fountains, and its gates were wrought of mithril and steel, and its streets were paved with white marble; and the Folk of the Mountain laboured in it, and the Folk of the Wood rejoiced to come there; and all was healed and made good, and the houses were filled with men and women and the laughter of children, and no window was blind nor any courtyard empty; and after the ending of the Third Age of the world into the new age it preserved the memory and the glory of the years that were gone.

ut with the dynamic forces of life, and those in whom those dynamic forces become incarnate, it is different. People whose desire is solely for self-realisation never know where they are going. They can’t know. In one sense of the word it is, of course, necessary, as the Greek oracle said, to know oneself. That is the first achievement of knowledge. But to recognise that the soul of a man is unknowable is the ultimate achievement of Wisdom. The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in a balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul? When the son of Kish went out to look for his father’s asses, he did not know that a man of God was waiting for him with the very chrism of coronation, and that his own soul was already the Soul of a King.

By 1086 the English were entirely gone from the top of society, supplanted by thousands of foreign newcomers. This transformation had almost certainly not been William’s original intention. His initial hope appears to have been to rule a mixed Anglo-Norman kingdom, much as his predecessor and fellow conqueror, King Cnut, had ruled an Anglo-Danish one. But Cnut had begun his reign by executing those Englishmen whose loyalty he suspected and promoting trustworthy natives in their place. William, by contrast, had exercised clemency after his coronation and consequently found himself facing wave after wave of rebellion. The English knew they were conquered in 1016, but in 1066 they had refused to believe it. As a result they met death and dispossession by stages and degrees, until, eventually and ironically, the Norman Conquest became far more revolutionary than its Danish predecessor.

A few hours later, Jane came out of her boudoir to find her husband in his dressing gown, stretched out across the bed reading the newspaper and idly petting their spaniel Little Archer, a pup from Mrs. Patch’s brood. Seizing the moment, Little Archer leapt off the bed and into her dressing room, where he could chew up slippers to his heart’s content. Dom, however, didn’t even look up as she entered. “They’re calling this the most elegant coronation in history.” He snorted. “I noticed there’s no mention of its being the most interminable.” “Dom,” she purred as she closed the dog into the dressing room for the moment. “All that pomp and circumstance is so tedious.” Still reading, he turned the page of the newspaper. “Ravenswood told me that King William is determined to make sure that parliamentary reform is enacted.” She walked languidly forward. “Dom.” He snapped the paper to straighten it. “It’s about bloody time. I should think--” “Dom!” she practically shouted. “Hmm?” He glanced up, then frowned. “Why are you wearing your coronation robe?” “I was cold,” she said with a teasing smile. She let the robe fall open. “Since I have nothing on underneath.” Dom stared, then gulped. Unsurprisingly, his staff jerked instantly to attention. “If you’re trying to torture me,” he said hoarsely, “you’re doing a good job of it.” She sashayed toward the bed, letting the velvet and ermine robe swing about her. “No torture intended.” She put one knee on the bed. “Dr. Worth said I may resume relations with my husband whenever I am ready.” He blinked, then rose to his knees and seized her about the waist. “May I assume that you’re ready?” he rasped as he brushed a kiss to her cheek. “You have no idea.” She met his mouth with hers. They kissed a long moment, a hot, heavenly kiss that reminded her of how very talented her husband was at this aspect of marriage. She untied his dressing gown and shoved it off his shoulders. He had just finished tearing off his drawers when she shoved him down onto the bed. His eyes lit up as she hovered over him. “Ah, so it’s to be like that, my wicked little seductress?” “Oh, yes.” She grinned at him. “I do so enjoy having a viscount fall before me.” She started to remove her robe, but he stayed her with his hand. “Don’t.” He raked her with a heated glance. “Next session of parliament, I’ll endure the boredom of the endless speeches by imagining you seducing me in all your pomp and circumstance.” “My pomp is nothing to yours, my love,” she murmured as she caught his rampant flesh in her hand. “Yours is quite…er…pompous.” “That’s what happens if the viscount falls.” He thrust against her hand. “His pomp always rises.” And as she laughed, they created a pomp and circumstance all their own.

During the chaos of the Hundred Years’ War, when northern France was decimated by English troops and the French monarchy was in retreat, a young girl from Orléans claimed to have divine instructions to lead the French army to victory. With nothing to lose, Charles VII allowed her to command some of his troops. To everyone’s shock and wonder, she scored a series of triumphs over the English. News rapidly spread about this remarkable young girl. With each victory, her reputation began to grow, until she became a folk heroine, rallying the French around her. French troops, once on the verge of total collapse, scored decisive victories that paved the way for the coronation of the new king. However, she was betrayed and captured by the English. They realized what a threat she posed to them, since she was a potent symbol for the French and claimed guidance directly from God Himself, so they subjected her to a show trial. After an elaborate interrogation, she was found guilty of heresy and burned at the stake at the age of nineteen in 1431. In the centuries that followed, hundreds of attempts have been made to understand this remarkable teenager. Was she a prophet, a saint, or a madwoman? More recently, scientists have tried to use modern psychiatry and neuroscience to explain the lives of historical figures such as Joan of Arc. Few question her sincerity about claims of divine inspiration. But many scientists have written that she might have suffered from schizophrenia, since she heard voices. Others have disputed this fact, since the surviving records of her trial reveal a person of rational thought and speech. The English laid several theological traps for her. They asked, for example, if she was in God’s grace. If she answered yes, then she would be a heretic, since no one can know for certain if they are in God’s grace. If she said no, then she was confessing her guilt, and that she was a fraud. Either way, she would lose. In a response that stunned the audience, she answered, “If I am not, may God put me there; and if I am, may God so keep me.” The court notary, in the records, wrote, “Those who were interrogating her were stupefied.” In fact, the transcripts of her interrogation are so remarkable that George Bernard Shaw put literal translations of the court record in his play Saint Joan. More recently, another theory has emerged about this exceptional woman: perhaps she actually suffered from temporal lobe epilepsy. People who have this condition sometimes experience seizures, but some of them also experience a curious side effect that may shed some light on the structure of human beliefs. These patients suffer from “hyperreligiosity,” and can’t help thinking that there is a spirit or presence behind everything. Random events are never random, but have some deep religious significance. Some psychologists have speculated that a number of history’s prophets suffered from these temporal lobe epileptic lesions, since they were convinced they talked to God.

I am convinced that the most neglected dimension of the life of Jesus in the church today is His ascension. Without the ascension, both the cross and the resurrection are meaningless. The climax of Jesus' earthly ministry came when He ascended to heaven and sat down at the right hand of God. This was His investiture, His coronation, when the Father crowned Him as King of kings and Lord of lords. It was at that moment that Jesus' glory was restored to Him in His heavenly kingdom. An

People had false expectations of their messianic king, and they did not anticipate the coronation of their king coming through a cross. Whenever we think about this upside-down, paradoxical kingliness of Jesus, who is majestic and meek, holy and humble, we desire the same royalty that creates our hearts to be both lamb-like and lionhearted, and courageous and compassionate at the same time.

Prior to World War II, in 1938, a German publisher was preparing to release a German-language version of The Hobbit and sent Tolkien a letter of inquiry asking him to validate his Aryan origins. In fact, the name “Tolkien” is believed to be German. The family seems to have had its roots in Saxony (modern-day Germany) but had been in England since the 18th century, when it became fervently English. As a matter of fact, while he was a boy at King Edward's School, young Ronald had helped line the route for the coronation parade of King George V. Still, Tolkien could easily have fallen back upon his father’s Germanic ancestry. Instead, he took the moral high ground. Angered, he pointed out that “Aryan” was a linguistic term, not a racial one. He then expressed regret that he had no ancestors among the “gifted” Jewish people, although he was pleased to point out that he had many Jewish friends. He was bitterly opposed to the “ignoramus” of a German leader who had usurped and perverted the northern European cultural heritage he so loved.

coronation. “Exactly that. The Scrolls of the Ancient Kings tell of the Throne being crafted for the One Protector of Albion. Many kings and queens have sat upon it, I assure you, and there is no record of that “singing” business of last

I am convinced that the most neglected dimension of the life of Jesus in the church today is His ascension. Without the ascension, both the cross and the resurrection are meaningless. The climax of Jesus' earthly ministry came when He ascended to heaven and sat down at the right hand of God. This was His investiture, His coronation, when the Father crowned Him as King of kings and Lord of lords. It was at that moment that Jesus' glory was restored to Him in His heavenly kingdom.

One morning when we three were alone, Nee leaned forward and said, “Elen, you’ve been closeted with Vidanric a lot, I’ve noticed. Has he said aught about a coronation? I confess it makes me nervous to have it not decided--as if they are waiting for something terrible to happen.” Elenet’s expression did not change, but high on her thin cheeks appeared a faint flush. “I trust we will hear something soon,” she murmured. And she turned the conversation to something general. Were they in love? I knew that she was. Elenet would make a splendid queen, I told myself, and they both certainly deserved happiness. I found myself watching them closely whenever we were all at an event, which occurred more and more often. There were no touches, no special smiles, none of the overt signs that other courting couples gave--but she was often by his side. I’d inevitably turn away, thinking to myself that it was none of my business. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have admirers, both the social kind and one real one--though I didn’t know his name. Still, the subject made me restless, which I attributed to my knowledge of how badly I had behaved to Shevraeth. I knew I owed him an apology, or an explanation, two things I could not bring myself to offer lest--someone--misconstrue my motives. And think me angling for a crown. So I hugged to myself the knowledge of my Unknown. No matter how my emotions veered during those social occasions, it was comforting to realize that I would return to my room and find a letter from the person whose opinions and thoughts I had come to value most. I preferred courtship by paper, I told myself. No one feels a fool, no one gets hurt. And yet--and yet--though I loved getting those letters, as the days went by I realized I was becoming slightly impatient of certain restraints that I felt were imposed on us. Like discussing current events and people. I kept running up against this constraint and finding it more irksome as each day passed. We continued to range over historical events, or the current entertainments such as the Ortali ribbon dancers or the piper-poets from faraway Tartee--all subjects that I could have just as well discussed with an erudite lady. The morning of Nee’s question to Elenet about coronations, I found the usual letter waiting when I returned to my room. I decided to change everything. Having scanned somewhat impatiently down the well-written comparison of two books about the Empire of Sveran Djur, I wrote: I can find it in myself to agree with the main points, that kings ought not to be sorcerers, and that the two kinds of power are better left in the charge of different persons. But I must confess that trouble in Sveran Djur and Senna Lirwan seems a minor issue right now. The problems of wicked mage-kings are as distant as those two kingdoms, and what occupy my attention now are problems closer to home. Everyone seems to whisper about the strange delay concerning our own empty throne, but as yet no one seems willing to speak aloud. Have you any insights on why the Renselaeus family has not made any definite plans?

The second holiest city in Judaism, the site of King David’s coronation and the Cave of the Patriarchs, had no Jews whatsoever.

The total government, is not upon a king, he has counsellors, a Parliament, or Estates, in the land, who share in the burthen of Government. No king should have the sole government... There is no man alone able to govern all. The kingdom should not lay that burthen on one poor man, who may easily miscarry. The Estates of this Land, are bound in this Covenant, the bear the burthen with him.

And I may confidently say, That God's controversie with the Kings of the Earth; is for their Arbitrary and Tyrannical Government.

It is hard to overestimate the fervor with which the men of her day greeted the Maid and embraced her mission. When Joan set out to lift the siege of Orléans, the dauphin could barely muster 2,000 straggling recruits to accompany her. When she rode into the city of Reims for the king’s coronation less than three months later, more than 11,000 soldiers rode with her.

came the time in which the King was to be crowned.  Now, at the coronation of kings, there is usually a releasement of divers prisoners, by virtue of his coronation; in which privilege also I should have had my share; but that they took me for a convicted person, and therefore, unless I sued out a pardon (as they called it), I could have no benefit thereby, notwithstanding, yet, forasmuch as the coronation proclamation did give liberty, from the day the King was crowned, to that day twelvemonth, to sue them out; therefore, though they would not let me out of prison, as they let out thousands, yet they could not meddle with me, as touching the execution of their sentence; because of the liberty offered for the suing out of pardons. 

A guru steeped in practice will take joy in death, A prisoner of great crimes takes joy in death, A person maddened by demons takes joy in death, Parents with a burden of great suffering take joy in death.

When life is over, even an artist can’t reconstruct it, Negative character can’t be pounded into shape by a blacksmith.

No one can gain merit through theft; No one can block previous karma with their hand.

When good fortune comes to the mouth, the tongue accidentally pushes it out.

It was not until the reign of his son George V (who took the oath in its old form) that a bill was passed in both Houses which abolished the old declaration of 1689 and substituted the positive for the negative: a declaration ‘that I am a faithful Protestant’ who would maintain the enactments which secured the Protestant Succession to the throne as well as the throne itself. The Coronation Oath taken by Queen Elizabeth II on 2 June 1953 consisted of a similar positive statement.

And to cap it all off, Gaveston was put in charge of the catering and managed to ruin it all with undercooked chicken. Understandably, the new queen was rather upset by the day’s events, while her uncles, Louis and Charles, stormed out of the coronation banquet and returned to France, after ‘seeing that the king frequented Piers’s couch more than the queen’s.’2 (Visiting England, they must have been prepared for the worst on the culinary front.)

In 1775 Louis XVI had been faced with his own Coronation Oath crisis. His chief minister, Turgot, wanted the King to drop the King’s pledge to extirpate heretics, which had actually been inserted in the thirteenth century to deal with the Albigensian heresy of the Cathars, but was now applied to Protestants.

Gaelic ritual also moved eastwards and Gaelic bards remembered its atmosphere. The place name of Scone is itself a memory of ancient ceremony. Bards sang of Scoine Sciath-Airde, ‘Scone of the High Shields’, probably a reference to the habit of warriors raising up a new king on their shields. As this precarious rite proceeded, another bardic name added a soundtrack. Scoine Sciath-Bhinne means ‘Scone of the Singing Shields’, the shouts and chants of acclamation as lords and warriors roared approval and support for the king raised on the high shields. Here is what John of Hexham wrote about the coronation of Malcolm IV in 1153: ‘and so all the people of the land, raising up Malcolm, son of Earl Henry, King David’s son (a boy still only 12 years old), established him as king at Scone (as is the custom of the Scottish nation).

desert kingdom. Given a less fraught time, Dragon decided, he would have loved to bring his easel in here and set up for a long, satisfying session of painting. The fluted arches, delicate frescoes and screens, and gold-leaf decorated treasure chests certainly created a most royal space. As Azania spoke, he returned his attention to her. “Brother, I wish to congratulate you upon your ascension to the throne of T’nagru, despite the grief and difficulty our kingdom faces at this time.” He inclined his head, weighted down with the great crown – it looked terribly uncomfortable, Dragon decided. A statement regarding the weighty nature of leadership. Everyone knew that this Skartun siege had only been a precursor to a much greater invasion later in the season. One Jabiz out of thirty had tested their mettle, and breached the outer gates of the citadel with a monstrous Bloodworm which still lay on the sand outside the gates. Did flesh rot in such a waterless desert climate? Or would it simply shrivel? Unexpected thirst tickled his gravelly throat. He coughed aside, the sound echoing loudly despite the large crowd gathered for the King’s coronation event. The Princess said, “I am sorry that I cannot make the formal genuflections, but my

His face and body were beginning to stretch and elongate. His eyes had become long and snake-like, glowing with a spectral yellow light. His gaze met Daniel’s eyes across the temple and locked with him. Shem’s lips, which were now bloodless and thin, peeled back from his teeth. He expelled a long, low sibilant hiss, and a ribbon of crimson tongue lashed out. Daniel was sure its burning end flicked against his cheek. He was horrified by what he saw, yet strangely awed. Was the coronation ceremony a means to transform Shemyaza into some hideous serpent king? He glanced around himself quickly to see how the Parzupheim were reacting to this transformation, but no-one save himself seemed to have noticed it.

pink roses. ‘Milk?’ Isaac held a tin of condensed milk above her cup. She shook her head. ‘I’ll have it black.’ ‘Isaac. Let us have a drop of rum in our tea. Let’s drink a toast to the king, both him who has passed and him who inherits the crown.’ A teaspoonful of rum was added to each cup. A slight movement drew Jenny’s attention back to the wall. The cockroach had fallen to the floor. The cat ate it.

Better britain begins with a better brit, an inclusive brit, a decolonized brit - a brit who knows no king and queen - a brit who celebrates no tomfoolery of coronation - a brit who knows but one race, the human race - a brit who knows but one religion, love - a brit who knows but one tradition, integration.

Despite the many troubling facts exposed by “Dark Alliance,” the media campaign against the story effectively ended Webb’s career as a journalist. He resigned from The Mercury News in November 1997 and never again worked in a newsroom. In the years following, Webb worked as an investigator for the California State Legislature and published the occasional story as a freelancer. He was laid off from his job in 2004 and shortly after was found dead in his home with two gunshot wounds to the head. Coroners ruled Webb’s death a suicide, to the continued disbelief of many.

narrative. The beginning of the rule of law4 – it is often said, and is largely true – in Britain coincides with the signing by King John of the Magna Carta (the Big Charter)5 in 1215. This has two key chapters, which make clear that a person cannot be punished without due process, and that such a process cannot be bought, delayed or denied. These are critical principles in our judicial system today. As it happens, Magna Carta was in force for precisely two months (when Pope Innocent III annulled it on the grounds it had been obtained by compulsion, calling it ‘illegal, unjust, harmful to royal rights and shameful to the English people’), and did not directly lead to modern jury trials in any significant way. As an articulation of principles of justice, it owed much to existing texts, such as the coronation oaths of Anglo-Saxon kings and the law codes of Henry I. The Pope also called Magna Carta ‘void of all validity forever’. He was wrong. It has survived as both a romantic gesture and a useful precedent6 to cite as our courts became more professional and individual rights became more established. The more significant, but less heralded, legal development came a couple of centuries later with the articulation of the principle of habeas corpus. The full phrase is habeas corpus ad subjiciendum: ‘may you bring the body before the court’, which sounds pompous or funereal. What it means, though, is that everyone has a right to be tried in person before being imprisoned. If someone is held by the state without trial, a petition using this phrase should get them either freed or at least their status interrogated by a judge. Two Latin words contain the most effective measure against tyranny in existence. As time progressed in this country, then, we see

ceremony was held at a time and place different from the king’s coronation.

Putting all kings and queens to bed, Citizens must come out and work the soil. Enough chasing the parade of dead meat, March your own parade, tackling turmoil!

Beyond King and Crumpet (Uncoronation Sonnet) There's not one but two UKs - one is United Kingdom, where animals worship a king, another is United Kin-dom, where humans live as kin. Storm's coming! Huts and homes of the humble will thrive, while castles and palaces of thieves will crumble. Either we are explorers of equality and dignity, or we are crown worshipping animal. Putting all kings and queens to bed, Citizens must come out and work the soil. Enough chasing the parade of dead meat, March your own parade, tackling turmoil! Crown, cross and rigid constitution, Mindlessness has taken many a form. Beyond the fetish of king and crumpet, Beckon the rays of an honorable dawn.

Ps 72 Woven together throughout Ps 72 are the themes of justice, peace and domestic prosperity. In the prologue to the Code of Hammurapi, and especially in the epilogue, the king boasts that his just rule also brings peace and prosperity to the cities of his realm. Immediately following the prayer for justice in “Ashurbanipal’s Coronation Hymn,” the priest asks that the king’s dominion might also be characterized by prosperity (abundance of grain; cf. v. 16) and “peace” (Assyrian salimu is akin to the Hebrew salom in v. 3 [NIV “prosperity”]). Injustice resulted in social chaos (see note on 94:20). In Egyptian thought, the execution of justice by the king expels chaos from creation, bringing harmony and order to the land. Thus, in both Mesopotamia and Egypt, people set their hope on the king for justice and prosperity. In Egypt, this revolved around a pharaoh who participated in the company of the gods and mediated divine blessing to humanity, but this hope never focused beyond the currently living king, except very late in Egyptian history (c. 300 BC), when expectations arose among some that a king would arise to restore the former glory of Egypt. Similarly, Mesopotamians did not conceive of a future king who would usher in an ideal age. People considered only their contemporary king as the agent of the gods who ideally maintained a prosperous social order. In contrast, in the OT one finds a progressively developing theme of hope for a future, worldwide kingdom ruled by a Davidic king on behalf of Yahweh. 72:4 defend the afflicted. Care for the weak members of society is the practical test of a just and good government throughout the ancient Near East, as claimed by Hammurapi (see note on Ps 72; see also the article “Coronation Hymns in the Ancient Near East”). In the Ugaritic Kirta epic, King Kirta is rebuked for failure to “pursue the widow’s case,” “take up the wretched’s claim,” “expel the poor’s oppressor” and “feed the orphan.” In the Egyptian “Teaching for Merikare,” the king is exhorted, “Do justice, then you endure on earth; / Calm the weeper, don’t oppress the widow.

Bloodline by Stewart Stafford Stuart Richards, 5,001st in line to the British throne, A distant cousin of the king but hitherto unknown, He dreamt of the crown and his fair queen's hand, But there was no baiting the hook unless he had a plan. He chose to eliminate the competition, stood before him, Through a dark celebration, they'd never know what hit them, He sent out invitations to the 5, 000 heirs, Promising vast feasting, with music and fanfare He built a fake house front with a door and a sign, That said: "Welcome to the party. Now, kindly form a line." Behind the door, there awaited a cliff face and a fall, A master of deception, his warm smile greeted them all. He stood at the front door with a charming bow, And, welcoming each guest, he said: "In you go now!" He watched them disappear as they stepped through the door, Counting steps to ascension, lemmings queued up for more. Backslapping himself, inner cackling at his scheme, Imagining himself as king - glory rained down, it seemed, But his Machiavellian plotting had a monstrous flaw, One thing he'd forgotten that greedy eyes never saw. The king was still alive, and he was not amused, He got wind of this plot and responded unconfused, He sent his guards to arrest him for sedition in a fury, They swept him off his feet, planting him before a jury. Put on trial for treason - the verdict was most guilty, Execution set, he had the neck to beg for mercy, But the king was not budging and barked: "Off with his head!" An Axeman's reverse coronation, he joined the fallen dead. Halting 2,986th in line to the British throne, A distant cousin of the king, headless spirit flown, In jealous craving, dispossessed as ruler of the land, Crowned pride came before a fallen plan. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Charlemagne was to receive yet another coronation. This time he would rise not as a king

I didn’t even know the King was married,” I admitted. “When did Rapheol die?” Eleanor leaned forward until her face was close to mine. “Less than a month after Ulther’s coronation. He was poisoned by a rival House. It’s a heartbreaking story.” “Someone poisoned the King’s husband?” She nodded. “Just as he received the Crown, Ulther was cheated in a trade agreement. He wanted to prove his strength before his Challenging, so he had their entire House shut down. He seized their property and ordered that they all leave Lumnos, join another House, or become one of the Unhoused Descended that live on the outskirts of the realm.” “All that over a bad business deal?” “It gets worse.” She sighed sadly. “An elder from that House decided she had nothing left to lose, so she infected Rapheol with a rare poison and demanded Ulther reinstate her House in exchange for an antidote. She even insisted on a bonded bargain that he wouldn’t punish her or her House for it later.” “And Ulther wouldn’t do it?” “Oh, he did—but she gave him an antidote, not the antidote. She worded the bargain cleverly, and there was nothing he could do. Rapheol died, and Ulther couldn’t seek revenge without losing his magic.” “That’s terrible,” I gasped. “I can’t believe she got away with it.” “She didn’t. That’s where it gets worse. Her bargain was clever, but not clever enough, because it only bound Ulther and not the rest of House Corbois. The King couldn’t take revenge—but his brothers could.” My eyebrows flew up. “What did they do?” She chewed on her lip and glanced nervously at her uncles. “They took out the entire House.” I spun around to face her. “Took out? As in...?” “As in dead. Every last one. The whole family was wiped out overnight.

Early in 1903 my company was stationed at Delhi Fort during the great Delhi Durbar held in honour of King Edward VII’s Coronation of the previous year. I cannot be sure whether it was the Duke of Cambridge or the Duke of Connaught who represented their brother the King, but whichever of the two it was, the story went around that after the native Princes had paid homage to him he remarked pointedly that from their behaviour it seemed as if somebody had been spoiling them: they did not behave in the same manner as during his last visit to India.

Mary thought she was anointing Jesus for coronation, but Jesus says she anointed him for burial. Both are true. Jesus is the anointed King, and his coronation did launch the revolution of God’s kingdom, but it also involved the burial of Jesus, because his coronation came by crucifixion and the revolution came by the cross. This is the gospel that is to be proclaimed in all the world.

The Dandelion" O dandelion, rich and haughty, King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time, You have no humble hours. I like to see you bring a troop To beat the blue-grass spears, To scorn the lawn-mower that would be Like fate's triumphant shears. Your yellow heads are cut away, It seems your reign is o'er. By noon you raise a sea of stars More golden than before.

Although cigar smoking was immensely popular during Victorian times, it was publicly kept in the shadows, largely due to Queen Victoria’s adamant disapproval with anything even remotely connected with tobacco. Thus, it was literally an enlightened world when her son, King Edward VII, uttered these now famous words in 1901, after his coronation: “Gentlemen, you may smoke.

Nevertheless, an eloquent testimony to Henry III’s occult interests survives in the form of an exquisite inlaid marble ‘Cosmati’ pavement in front of the high altar of Westminster Abbey. Restoration of this pavement was completed in 2010, revealing a pattern laid down in 1268. Modelled ultimately on the marble pavement marking the ‘centre of the world’ on which the Eastern Roman emperors were crowned in Hagia Sophia, at the centre of the Westminster pavement is a disc of Egyptian onyx on the spot where the throne is placed for a coronation. An inscription around this sphere of marble by the monk John Flete (c. 1398–1466) identifies it as a representation of the ‘macrocosm’, the spherical medieval universe and its elements.25 The placement of the coronation chair above a representation of the macrocosm is highly suggestive, and could mean that Henry intended the pavement’s mimicry of the pattern of the universe to channel astrological forces from the stars into the person of the king. The Hermetic principle ‘as above, so below

Now the word frankfurter comes from the city of Frankfurt, Germany, where pork sausages served in a bun similar to hot dogs originated. These sausages, called Frankfurter Würstchen, were even known as far back as the 13th century, when they were given to the people at imperial coronations. That’s right, hot dogs made history when they were served at the coronation of Maximillian II, the Holy Roman Emperor, as King in the year 1562.  I hear they were a big hit, so they remained on the royal menu for future coronations.

But the bigger picture, throughout Paul’s letters, is about Jesus establishing his rule. His death is a vital and central part of how that is done. We cannot bypass it. We cannot downplay it. We cannot underemphasize it. But it makes the sense it makes within this picture: of the love of God, the covenant of God, the plan of God for the fulfillment of the whole of creation, not its abolition, and above all, the coronation of Jesus as the world’s rightful king and lord. Many times, when people preach the gospel and talk of Jesus dying in our place, you would never guess at any of these things. And you would be left clinging to a fragment of the biblical witness, supposing that the fragment belonged in a quite different story.

Trust yourself, and spend the rest of your life earning it.

When (1603) the Emperor Rudolph II asked the Bohemian Diet, or Parliament, for money for his projected campaign against the Turks, Wenzel of Budowa demanded the repeal of the Edict of St. James, and that complete religious liberty should be given to the people. Only then would money be voted. The Protestant nobles of all shades supported him, and the people were enthusiastically on his side. The Emperor, between the Protestants and the Jesuits, promised and retracted repeatedly, and no progress was made. Then Wenzel called the nobles together, they collected men and supplies and swore to resort to force if their demands should not be granted. The Emperor yielded, signed the Bohemian Charter giving full religious liberty, and there was general rejoicing among the people. A Board of twenty-four “Defenders” was formed to attend to the proper carrying out of the terms of the Charter. All the Protestant parties and the United Brethren signed the general Bohemian National Protestant Confession. In 1616 Ferdinand II became King of Bohemia. He was entirely under the influence of the Jesuits and though at his coronation he took an oath to observe the Charter, he began immediately to break it.

This turn of events was, of course, highly contested by the royal court and by the majority of the village. People knew of Isla and the orphan she took in, but we served no greater purpose aside from supplying corn leading into the harsher winter months. We kept to ourselves in the corner, sharing a border with the Black Forest, and only socialized when we needed to sell our crops for coins. But, since the king had no nearby bloodline, I took the throne less than a year later and had a very small coronation, only attended by members of the royal court and Isla.

So,” Oriana said, looking down the table at Oak. “You did very well up there. It made me imagine your coronation.” Vivi snorted delicately. “I don’t want to rule anything, no less Elfhame,” Oak reminded her. Jude kept her face carefully neutral through what appeared to be sheer force of will. “No need to worry. I don’t plan on kicking the bucket anytime soon, and neither does Cardan.” Oak turned to the High King, who shrugged elegantly. “Seems hard on pointy boots, kicking buckets.