Kyte Quotes

ODE TO A HAGGIS Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great Chieftan o’ the Puddin-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang’s my arm The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, You pin wad help to mend a mill In time o’need While thro’ your pores the dews distil Like amber bead His knife see Rustic-labour dight, An’ cut you up wi’ ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reeking, rich! Then, horn for horn they stretch an’ strive, Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive Bethankit hums Is there that owre his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi’ perfect sconner, Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view On sic a dinner? Poor devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as a wither’d rash His spindle-shank a guid whip-lash, His nieve a nit; Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash, O how unfit! But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He’ll mak it whissle; An’ legs, an’ arms an’ heads will sned, Like taps o’ thrissle Ye pow’rs wha mak mankind your care, An’ dish them out their bill o’fare, Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her gratefu’ pray’r, Gie her a Haggis!

hanged or burned for it, that is.[11] These elaborate tortures pointed to one simple fact: that the potential power women had – be it sexual, intellectual, even supernatural – scared the living daylights out of the patriarchy. In response, it did everything it could to suppress that power and preserve its own supremacy: it kept them ignorant, incapacitated, voiceless and dependent.

Tis true, the world may wonder at my confidence, how I dare put out a book, especially in these censorious times; but why should I be ashamed, or afraid, where no evil is, and not please my self in the satisfaction of innocent desires? For a smile of neglect cannot dishearten me, no more can a frown of dislike affright me … my mind’s too big, and I had rather venture an indiscretion, than lose the hopes of a fame.[43] This is the Margaret Cavendish that feminists adore, emerging from her chrysalis: singular, ambitious, confident of her intelligence and proudly dismissive of what others think.

They argued, after the ancient philosophers Plato and Plotinus, that the nature of the universe was spiritual rather than material, and that moral virtues and reason were God-given. The mortal life was meaningless, the appetites and senses a distraction; the important truths, and access to God, could only be attained through abstract thinking and intellectual reasoning.

At a time when our nation is facing an epidemic of loneliness, when communities are suffering from loss of trust, low levels of engagement, despair, and political polarization, what if the answer to many of our problems lies in a simple idea? What if we just need to pay attention to the places where we find ourselves?

The Kyte network was a thicket of proxy-server IP addresses and usernames that led nowhere. In order to truly make the case against CaptainMal, she needed to locate Kyte’s server, which could be anywhere among the hundreds of millions of computers in the world.

He was making so much money from Kyte that it was becoming apparent to the cartels. Now the chum was in the water, and the sharks were circling. He should have known that people would come for him and try to take the site from him.

A Commonwealth of Dominica passport provided visa-free or visa-on-arrival access to more than 115 countries around the world, including the entire European Union, which made it the perfect accessory for any fugitive’s well-stocked go bag. As an added bonus, he could sock away millions of dollars of his Kyte profits in Dominica’s banks without attracting the attention of the IRS or the FBI.