Leclerc Quotes

The style is the man himself

Who’s your famous dream date?” “Charles Leclerc,” she said, without even pausing. “Who the hell is that?” I asked, picturing some period piece dramatic actor. “Formula One driver. French, maybe. Hot.

All the work of the crystallographers serves only to demonstrate that there is only variety everywhere where they suppose uniformity ... that in nature there is nothing absolute, nothing perfectly regular.

There were times when he confronted his own image as a man confronts an empty valley, and the vision propelled him forward again to experience as despair compels us to extinction. Sometimes he was like a man in flight, but running toward the enemy, desperate to feel upon his vanishing body the blows that would prove his being; desperate to imprint upon his sad conformity the mark of real purpose, desperate perhaps, as Leclerc had hinted, to abdicate his conscience in order to discover God.

Truly, Buffon was the father of all thought in natural history in the second half of the 18th century.

Majestatis naturæ by ingenium (Genius equal to the majesty of nature.) [Inscribed ordered by King Louis XV for the base of a statue of Buffon placed at Muséum National d’Histoire Naturelle de Paris.]

Speaking one day to Monsieur de Buffon, on the present ardor of chemical inquiry, he affected to consider chemistry but as cookery, and to place the toils of the laboratory on the footing with those of the kitchen. I think it, on the contrary, among the most useful of sciences, and big with future discoveries for the utility and safety of the human race.

Chaque pomme est une fleur qui a connu l’amour.

Darlène dépose sa tête sur le coeur d'Ashton et le rejoint lentement du reste de son corps. D'un coup, comme ça, c'est comme s'ils étaient venus au monde pour s'endormir ensemble

Rassemblons des faits pour nous donner des idées. Let us gather facts in order to get ourselves thinking.

It's hard to get animals to reproduce in a zoo, but people, even condemned to death, even hunted by Leclerc's army, with the woods full of Fifis and the whole R.A.F on top of them thundering day and night, don't lose their desire to squirt! not in the least...

You are dragons, Lord Dreyken! You are not meant to spend your lives hidden in the dark. You are meant to spread your wings and fly, to feel the sun on your scales! Tell me, Lord Dragon, where is your joy? ~Talwyn, The Dragon Shifters at Southgate (coming soon)

It does no good for you to spend all of your time worrying about what may come and being blind to what you have in the present.” ~Blaez, The Guardians of Eastgate

The great workman of nature is time.

The careful observations and the acute reasonings of the Italian geologists of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; the speculations of Leibnitz in the 'Protogaea' and of Buffon in his 'Théorie de la Terre;' the sober and profound reasonings of Hutton, in the latter part of the eighteenth century; all these tended to show that the fabric of the earth itself implied the continuance of processes of natural causation for a period of time as great, in relation to human history, as the distances of the heavenly bodies from us are, in relation to terrestrial standards of measurement. The abyss of time began to loom as large as the abyss of space. And this revelation to sight and touch, of a link here and a link there of a practically infinite chain of natural causes and effects, prepared the way, as perhaps nothing else has done, for the modern form of the ancient theory of evolution.

Someone once challenged me: “I bet I can tell you the whole Old Testament and New Testament in six sentences—three for each.” “You’re on!” I said. He started with the Old Testament: “‘They tried to kill us. We survived. Let’s eat!’” My friend went on. “Now here’s the New Testament in three sentences: ‘I love you! I forgive you! Let’s eat!’” Jean Leclerc offers the best definition of the gospel you’ll ever hear: “Jesus ate good food with bad people.

Among the darker nations, Paris is famous for two betrayals. The first came in 1801, when Napoleon Bonaparte sent General Victor Leclerc to crush the Haitian Revolution, itself inspired by the French Revolution. The French regime could not allow its lucrative Santo Domingo to go free, and would not allow the Haitian people to live within the realm of the Enlightenment's " Rights of Man." The Haitians nonetheless triumphed, and Haiti became the first modern colony to win its independence. The second betrayal came shortly after 1945, when a battered France, newly liberated by the Allies, sent its forces to suppress the Vietnamese, West Indians, and Africans who had once been its colonial subjects. Many of these regions had sent troops to fight for the liberation of France and indeed Europe, but they returned home emptyhanded. As a sleight of hand, the French government tried to maintain sovereignty over its colonies by repackaging them as " overseas territories." A people hungry for liberation did not want such measly hors d'oeuvres.

{On to contributions to evolutionary biology of 18th century French scientist, Georges-Louis Leclerc, Comte de Buffon} He was not an evolutionary biologist, yet he was the father of evolutionism. He was the first person to discuss a large number of evolutionary problems, problems that before Buffon had not been raised by anybody.... he brought them to the attention of the scientific world. Except for Aristotle and Darwin, no other student of organisms [whole animals and plants] has had as far-reaching an influence. He brought the idea of evolution into the realm of science. He developed a concept of the "unity of type", a precursor of comparative anatomy. More than anyone else, he was responsible for the acceptance of a long-time scale for the history of the earth. He was one of the first to imply that you get inheritance from your parents, in a description based on similarities between elephants and mammoths. And yet, he hindered evolution by his frequent endorsement of the immutability of species. He provided a criterion of species, fertility among members of a species, that was thought impregnable.

...When it comes to one’s nature... I believe it is the choices we make that have the final say. We can choose to be happy, to lead a good life. We can decide on the kind of person we want to be, and then make a thousand small choices each day to keep us on our path. ~Blaez (The Guardians of Eastgate)

So too, when one lives far from all human support, from all which habitually gives existence a semblance of solidity, only then can one test for oneself the truth of words such as these: “My rock, my fortress, it is you.” At such a time, a person without fearing can see one's existence tremble like the frail stem of a columbine in the crevice of a rock above the steep ravine.

Without comfort or glamour, this life did not permit any disguise. There one was compelled to face one's own true self. In keeping with the surroundings, the friars tended to become sparing in words and gestures. Feelings, too, were assuaged and became more simple─not by dint of reading or inner search, but through a holy and harsh obedience to those things which poverty demands when it is accepted in all its right.

In this wild and treacherous mountain scene, where all moving about meant difficult climbing or rapid and dangerous descent, the body itself had to undergo a discipline of conformity and purification which made it more docile to the spirit. In order to live this contemplative life one needed the coordination of a tumbler or an acrobat. A friar could not fear creeping on hands and knees, nor wearing out clothes on the rough rocks.

On November 27 Napoleon wrote to Leclerc about Pauline, who had bravely gone out on the expedition, saying he was ‘highly satisfied with the conduct of Paulette. She ought not to fear death, as she would die with glory in dying with the army and being useful to her husband. Everything passes rapidly on earth, with the exception of the mark we leave on history.’67 At the time he wrote, Leclerc himself was nearly four weeks dead from yellow fever. ‘Come back soon,’ Napoleon wrote to Pauline on learning of Leclerc’s death, ‘here you will find consolation for your misfortunes in the love of your family. I embrace you.’ Pauline – whom Laure d’Abrantès described as ‘a less-than-desolate widow’ – returned with the body on January 1, 1803, and by the end of August she was remarried, to the handsome and rich Don Camillo Filippo Ludovico Borghese, Prince of Sulmona and of Rossano, Duke and Prince of Guastalla, whom she privately thought ‘an imbecile’ and to whom she was soon wildly unfaithful.

It is hard to accept this effacement of things and to maintain a conversation with what seems to be nothingness. It is hard to remain awake in the midst of empty darkness, where not only all familiar beings have lost their color, their voice and even their identity, but where the Divine Presence itself seems to have disappeared. Francis had desired poverty. He had espoused it, as he used to say. And here, at this moment of his existence, he was poor─painfully poor─beyond all that he had ever dreamed.

Je disais à ma soeur, ou elle me disait, tu viens, on joue à rire ? On s'allongeait côte à côte sur un lit, et on commençait. Pour faire semblant, bien sûr. Rires forcés. Rires ridicules. Rires si ridicules qu'ils nous faisaient rire. Alors il venait, le vrai rire, le rire entier, nous emporter dans son déferlement immense. Rires éclatés, repris, bousculés, déchaînés, rires magnifiques, somptueux et fous... Et nous riions à l'infini du rire de nos rires... Oh rire ! rire de la jouissance, jouissance du rire ; rire, c'est si profondément vivre.

Sa mère avait peut-être, elle aussi, attendu une bonne raison de partir. Mais la vie a fait pour Annick ce qu'elle sait faire le mieux pour tout le monde : passer trop vite.

Neither Gerow nor de Gaulle had to tell Leclerc to hurry into Paris. He was ridden by the fear his troops would reach the capital after its German garrison had fired the explosives seeded through its streets. Angry and disappointed, Leclerc had had to accept the face he would not reach the city for another twelve hours. The red-haired captain jeeping toward Leclerc...was furious too...twice he had been curtly ordered by his immediate superior to rejoin the main line of attack..."What the hell are you doing here?" Leclerc asked. Dronne told him. "Dronne," Leclerc said, "don't you know enough not to obey stupid orders?...I want you to get into Paris. Take whatever you've got and go.

Able and zealous in this service was the wool-carder, Jean Leclerc, who also, not content with this and with visiting from house to house, wrote and posted on the cathedral doors some placards condemning the Church of Rome, thus drawing punishment on himself. For three successive days he was whipped through the streets and then branded on the forehead with a red-hot iron as a heretic. “Glory to Jesus Christ and to His witnesses!” cried a voice from the crowd. It was that of his mother. The bishop had to see these things and consent.

A great festival was at hand, on the occasion of which the people of Metz were in the habit of making a pilgrimage some miles out from the city to a chapel celebrated for its images of the Virgin and the saints. His mind filled with Old Testament denunciations of idolatry, Leclerc, informing nobody of his intention, crept out of Metz the night before the pilgrimage and destroyed the images in the chapel. When, the next day, the worshippers arrived and found the shattered fragments of their images strewn over the chapel floor, they were filled with fury. Leclerc made no secret of what he had done. He exhorted the people to worship God only and declared that Jesus Christ, who is God manifest in the flesh, is alone to be adored.

Maurice Richard c'est tout le Québec qui est debout. Qui fait peur et qui vit.

fue de epopeya; como el caso de los que, enrolados algunos en la Legión Extranjera francesa y fugitivos otros del norte de África, acabaron integrados en las fuerzas francesas libres del general De Gaulle, y desde África central viajaron a Inglaterra, y de allí a Normandía; y luego, con la División Leclerc, liberaron París y combatieron y murieron en suelo alemán, llegando los supervivientes hasta el cuartel general del Führer (tuve el honor de estar cinco años sentado en la Real Academia Española junto a uno de ellos, Claudio Guillén Cahen, hijo del poeta Jorge Guillén).

genuine understanding of salvation must include the willingness to care about the wronged.

There are an array of recent studies that interpret atonement passages with greater nuance and with an eye toward more contemporary themes. But most remain “traditional” in the sense that the issues raised are still directed at God’s forgiveness of sinful humanity. Only a handful have suggested that a second locus of atonement theology should be focused on the victims of sin.

Furthermore, justification admonishes not simply concern for my own personal eternal destination, but demands the communal task of seeking justice and healing for victims now. 44 The problem persists that too often in the church the only confessions given liturgical space are for oppressors to confess their sins to God alone.

The primary question of this book is this: if the cross has always been portrayed as the means of salvation for sinners, does it have anything to say to those who have been sinned-against?

Luc Comtat sprach davon, dass der Nizza-Salat ein Klassiker sei, aber unverschämt oft vollkommen verdorben werde und bis zur Lächerlichkeit verhunzt. Dabei sei das Gericht so typisch französisch wie noch was. Eines der ältesten Basisrezepte reiche bis ins Jahr 1900 zurück, und es sei wohl in Paris erfunden worden, nicht an der Küste – von daher gehe es um die Sehnsucht nach dem Meer und nicht um die Küste selbst. Das erntete jede Menge Zustimmung. Albin nickte mit. Er nahm an, dass das angebracht und besser so wäre. »Ihr müsst die Seele des Salates verstehen«, predigte Comtat. »Ihr wollt die Küste schmecken, das Salz des Meeres. Ihr wollt die Erinnerung an den Sonnenbrand auf dem Rücken. Und es ist egal, wo ihr an der Riviera seid, ihr bekommt überall einen ganz anders angerichteten Niçoise. Das ist das Tolle. Ihr seid völlig frei. Aber ihr müsst an die Basics denken, die braucht es einfach.« Damit deutete er auf einige vorbereitete Zutaten und zählte auf: »Salat, Thunfisch, Tomaten, Kartoffeln, Sardellen, Basilikum, Eier, grüne Bohnen, Kapern, Oliven, Olivenöl.« Manche, erklärte der Koch, würden marinierte Artischockenherzen dazunehmen, andere wiederum schwarze Oliven aus Les Baux favorisieren oder Anchovis.

Well, people don’t call themselves, so calls between numbers indicate separate individuals. People who don’t like one another don’t talk for a long time. Just quick calls when they need to talk. Friends stay on the line for a long time. Single numbers that are connected to multiple names probably mean an alias. Somebody who carries one phone but goes by several names. Lets the calls go to voice mail, then figures out who they wanted and calls back. Or uses text so the voice isn’t a giveaway.

Leclerc wrote that people were put on Earth by God to create “order, subordination and harmony” in nature. He described the unpleasantness and the horror of nature undisturbed—that is, unhusbanded by human beings. “View those melancholy deserts where man has never resided,” he admonished. They are “overrun with briars, thorns, and trees which are deformed, broken and corrupted.” Seeds are “choked and buried in the midst of rubbish and sterility.” In wildness, he said, nature has the appearance of “old age and decrepitude.” Instead of the “beautiful verdure” of managed landscape, there is “nothing but a disordered mass of gross herbage, and of trees loaded with parasitical plants.

Thus Leclerc argues that we must drain the marshes and transform the stagnant waters into canals and brooks. We should set fire to “those superannuated forests, which are already half consumed,” and finish the clearing “by destroying with iron what could not be dissipated by fire.” We are admonished to carry out our role in nature, just as every creature is meant to carry out its role. Man is the one who “cuts down the thistle and the bramble, and . . . multiplies the vine and the rose.

The great pseudo-scientist of the time was Georges Leclerc, the Comte de Buffon. This highly learned and industrious old fraud was considered the master of natural history and zoology, and had formed the view that North America was a wasteland condemned by nature. Its climate and soil were inhospitable to all but the scrawniest and most puny life: nothing was to be expected of it. We need waste no time on Buffon’s theories except to say that they were rivaled in quasi-religious and creationist idiocy only by the opposing school.

Who’s your famous dream date?” “Charles Leclerc,” she said, without even pausing.

Several hours later, 125 miles from Lille, Martin Leclerc, head of the Violent Crimes unit, pondered a three-dimensional representation of a human head on the screen of a Mac. You could clearly see the brain and several salient parts of the face: tip of the nose, outer surface of the right eye, left tragus…Then he pointed to a green area, located in the left superior temporal gyrus. “So that lights up every time I say something?” Half reclining on a hydraulic chair, head squeezed under a hood containing 128 electrodes, Chief Inspector Franck Sharko stared at the ceiling without moving a muscle. “It’s called Wernicke’s area, linked to hearing speech. For you and me both, blood rushes there the moment you hear a voice. Hence the coloration.” “Impressive.” “Not half as much as seeing you here.” Sharko spoke softly beneath the bonnet. “I don’t know if you recall, Martin, but the invitation was for a drink at my place. The only thing you’ll get here is watery coffee.” “Your shrink didn’t have any problems with me sitting in on a session. And you’d suggested it yourself—or am I not the only one having memory lapses?

Despite the absence of speech, the green area on the upper part of the gyrus was glowing. “If it’s lighting up, it means she’s talking to me at this very moment.” “Eugenie?” Sharko grunted. Leclerc felt a chill. To see his chief inspector’s meninges react to speech like this, when you couldn’t even hear a fly buzzing, made him feel like there was a ghost in the room. “What’s she saying?” “She wants me to buy a pint of cocktail sauce and some candied chestnuts next time I go shopping. She loves those miserable chestnuts. Excuse me a second…” Sharko closed his eyes, lips pressed tight. Eugenie was someone he might see and hear at any moment. On the passenger seat of his old Renault. At night when he went to bed. Sitting cross-legged, watching the mini-gauge trains run around the tracks. Two years earlier, Eugenie had often shown up with a black man, Willy, a huge smoker of Camels and pot. A real mean son of a bitch, much worse than the little girl because he talked loud and tended to gesticulate wildly. Thanks to the treatment, the Rasta had disappeared for good, but the other one, the girl, came and went as she pleased, resistant as a virus.

Sharko looked at Henebelle out of the corner of his eye, just to his left. The light struck her face in a peculiar way, as if it darkened on contact with her skin. The cop could see her doggedness, her concentration, the dangerous flames burning in the depths of her blue irises. He knew that look only too well. Leclerc took note of Kashmareck’s findings and continued: “And Vlad Szpilman? Who was he, apart from a collector and occasional klepto?

They first met when she was sixteen. He had just enlisted in the Navy- thirteen days after the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. She was dating his younger brother and, when her deep turquoise eyes first met his, all he could think was how sorry he was for him. He was going to take his girl...

Tenir. Faire comme d'habitude. J'ai traité, pendant deux heures au téléphone, les problèmes de traduction anglaise de Une femme. Puis Leclerc. Le ciel bleu, les arbres ensoleillés, le froid, comme l'année dernière, les mardis de novembre.

The intelligence people at State were not the only ones who knew the French would have trouble. In Vietnam, General Jacques Philippe Leclerc, De Gaulle’s favorite general, landed to take charge of French forces. After a tour of the country he was fully aware of the political-military problems that lay ahead. Turning to his political adviser, Paul Mus, he said, “It would take five hundred thousand men to do it, and even then, it could not be done.

If, in order to succor thee, I overturn the whole world, it is all too little for my wishes; to quench the fires of my ardour, I must drown me in a sea of blood.

When I think thus and then look and see how I and the most part of creatures live their lives, I come to believe that this world is but a fable, and that we have all lost our senses - for I make no difference, except for a few externals, between ourselves, the pagans and the Turks.

We cannot avoid them, and when we see them, we do not have the right to be indifferent. Woe to us, if by our silence or inertia the wicked become obdurate in their malice and eventually triumph.” “It is true, we cannot be indifferent in the face of evil or error,” resumed Francis, “but we should be neither irritated nor dismayed by it. Such dismay and irritation will only restrict the charity within us or in others. Rather must we learn to see evil and error as God sees them. It is precisely that which is so difficult. Where we would tend to see an error to be condemned and to be punished, God sees, from the very start, a suffering to be alleviated.

Adrien reste coi, mais le dévisage avec mépris. — Vous êtes ? tente-t-il pour meubler le silence inconfortable. Adrien dévisage l'éditeur et sort un fusil à impulsion électrique de la poche de sa veste. — Ton pire cauchemar. — Pardon ? Leclerc , Alain . Quatre saisons de nouvelles - Tome 1 (p. 23). Édition du Kindle.

Adrien reste coi, mais le dévisage avec mépris. — Vous êtes ? tente-t-il pour meubler le silence inconfortable. Adrien dévisage l’éditeur et sort un fusil à impulsion électrique de la poche de sa veste. — Ton pire cauchemar. — Pardon ? Leclerc , Alain . Quatre saisons de nouvelles - Tome 1 (p. 23). Édition du Kindle.

El corazón puro es el que no cesa de adorar al Señor vivo y verdadero.

In his book Mosquito Empires: Ecology and War in the Greater Caribbean, 1620–1914, John R. McNeill estimates that Napoleon dispatched sixty-five thousand troops in successive waves to suppress the revolt in Saint-Domingue. Of these, fifty thousand to fifty-five thousand died, with thirty-five thousand to forty-five thousand of those deaths caused by yellow fever. Thus in the late summer of 1802 Leclerc reported that he had under his command only ten thousand men, of whom eight thousand were convalescing in hospital, leaving only two thousand fit for active duty. Two-thirds of the staff officers had also succumbed.

Close on the heels of Leclerc’s armored spearhead was an American intelligence unit code-named ALSOS, carrying secret instructions from the physicists J. Robert Oppenheimer and Luis W. Alvarez on clues to look for in investigating “the Y program”—the German atomic bomb effort. Evidence discovered in Paris and at the Philips factory in Eindhoven pointed to the University of Strasbourg as a key atomic research center.

Phil est parti en voyage sur le corps des autres. Sauf que la symbiose des chairs est pas grand-chose sans la fureur des esprits. Un éclair de chaleur qui fait pas de bruit

Mon corps seulement pour travailler et plaire ; jamais pour jouir. Mon corps, jamais pour moi. Bouche cousue et bouche fardée. Sexe ouvert à la demande et sexe bouché au tampax. Récurée, raclée, hygiénisée, déodorée de partout, réodorée à la rose, c'en est trop, j'étouffe, il me faut mon corps. Tout mon corps, son sang, son lait, et la gonflure extrême de mon ventre. Car c'est ça que j'appelle vivre.

This evening, the voice of God was in the storm. But one had to know how to hear it. Francis was listening. And what was this powerful voice saying as it reechoed in the black night, interrupted only by the lightning? It decried the vanity of everything of this world.

What else was this voice saying? That the glory with which God is surrounded is awful and that no one can see God until one dies and passes through water and fire. Fire fell now from heaven─and soon water was mixed with it. At first a few large drops came─then it poured, a hard driving downpour which fell on the rocks, bounced off, then streamed from all sides toward the ravine, gurgling as it went. The water descended on the mountain like a giant baptism, like an invitation to a great purification. Francis watched and listened.

At present, it was the hour of the ebbing tide and he was there, oppressed, gasping like the fish which struggles not to die.

Sometimes he was like a man in flight, but running towards the enemy, desperate to feel upon his vanishing body the blows that would prove his being; desperate to imprint upon his sad conformity the mark of real purpose, desperate perhaps, as Leclerc had hinted, to abdicate his conscience in order to discover God.

They hoped that he was going to take charge of his order, but his physical strength betrayed him. Francis had returned from Palestine with his health completely broken. To face the malcontents, one had to be strong, with a leader's robust temperament. Cardinal Hugolin, protector of the order, had thus advised Brother Elias to take the leadership and Francis had acquiesced─although not without misgivings. For his own part, suffering with ailments of the liver and stomach, his infected eyes burned by the sun of the Near East as well as by tears, Francis had kept to a course of silence and prayer. But a heavy sadness had descended upon him like a sort of blight; it clung to his soul and corroded it, never ceasing to gnaw at him by night and day.

they know that they were expressing something vital. Then all of these oft-repeated prayers held for them the zest of the real thing. There was not God on one side and reality on the other. God was real, at the very heart of reality.

Philippe Girard, a leading historian of the rebellion, argues that folding his hands with regard to hygiene was “Leclerc’s greatest error as commander-in-chief.”13

La première division du travail est naturelle, c'est la division du travail entre le sexes". C'est aussi la première - ou disons la plus importante - erreur d'Engels, et A. Leclerc, qui n'a pas cité ses sources, la reprend entièrement à son compte. Ayant montré que toute division du travail est la conséquence et le moyen de la hiérarchie et de l'oppression, Engels trouve cependant que celle entre les sexes est "naturelle", et que dans ce cas mais dans ce cas seulement, [...] la hiérarchie suit et ne précède pas. Il renie sa propre méthode et jette ainsi une ombre non seulement sur cette analyse mais sur toutes les autres. Car si on peut renverser l'ordre causal pour les femmes, pourquoi pas pour les autres ? Le ver est dans le fruit. Cent ans se sont écoulés depuis et de nombreuses études ont montré que le contenu de cette division était variable, donc pas naturel.

The noblest conquest of man is to have gained the friendship of the horse

The sublime can only be found in the great subjects. Poetry, history and philosophy all have the same object, and a very great object—Man and Nature. Philosophy describes and depicts Nature. Poetry paints and embellishes it. It also paints men, it aggrandizes them, it exaggerates them, it creates heroes and gods. History only depicts man, and paints him such as he is.

Oh moi je ne suis qu'un bouffon Messires ! Un acrobate verbal pour mieux vous faire rire, Jongleur grammatical et n'étant pas bien né, Je mendie les regards et fais des pieds de nez. N'ayant que peu de foi en la nature humaine, Je traque les fissures de ses allures mondaines. Je dis les vérités que l'on déteste entendre Et attire la haine quand je voudrais du tendre. Mais mon vocabulaire est une bien piètre épée Et je vous laisse Messieurs l'honneur de batailler.

I have been incapable of moving, even a finger or an eye, for at least a year now. I feel relatively certain about this timeframe because I have been watching the crepe myrtle outside the window of the room I am in...

Outside of the usual bar or nightclub, it's not every day that I get a drink bought for me-at least not by strangers and certainly not on a workday. On that Saturday, in September 2010, it was from three separate individuals.

Praying to the Almighty, Javert?” called a voice, and Javert opened his eyes to see Rousseau and Leclerc smirking at him. Javert tipped his head and said to the others, "If I was, it would be awfully rude to interrupt my prayer, don’t you think? But, no, Leclerc. I find no solace in speaking with an imaginary puppeteer.” Rousseau, who was twenty-five and utterly dim of mind, frowned at Javert’s words. Javert rolled his eyes and sighed, "I don’t pray.

el paso por el canal de parto inocula al bebé con los lactobacilos que van a ser la piedra angular de su flora intestinal temprana, la que será clave para el desarrollo de su sistema inmunitario y determinará en gran parte la composición de su flora futura, con todas las implicaciones que eso tiene. Cuando un bebé nace por cesárea, le llega totalmente otra cosa. En su intestino, ni rastro de lactobacilos; en su lugar se encuentran Staphylococcus, Corynebacterium, Propionibacterium y otras moradoras habituales de la piel11.

Hace mucho que se sabe que la cesárea tiene efectos adversos, aunque solo recientemente se entendió que provenían de la flora. Ya en 1985 la Organización Mundial de la Salud apelaba a que no se realizara salvo indicación médica real, es decir, en no más de diez a quince nacimientos de cada cien. Así se hace en Escandinavia e Israel, sin embargo en Chile o México estamos en casi un 50%, con tasas superando el 70% en clínicas privadas.

Hoy día sabemos que no ser amamantado aumenta los riesgos de infecciones, obesidad, diabetes, muerte súbita e incluso leucemia en los niños, mientras que las madres que no amamantan tienen mayores riesgos de síndrome metabólico, diabetes, y cáncer de mama y de ovario13. Cosas bastante terribles que motivaron a la OMS a recomendar que todos los niños sean amamantados por al menos dos años, y a reglamentar la publicidad para leche artificial, como se ha hecho con el tabaco y el alcohol.

but sanctity is not developing oneself to the utmost, nor is it an achievement of one's own doing. It is at first a void which one discovers in oneself and accepts and which God then comes to fill in proportion to how much one makes oneself receptive to God's bounty.

The German bombers kept coming. In town after town, Jean-Luc Leclerc could hear the air-raid sirens. But he refused to stop, refused to take shelter. He had one mission, and that was to reach Le Chambon, no matter what it took. He desperately wanted to hug his daughter Lilly, only six years old, and her sister, Madeline, not quite four. He wanted to hold them and never let them go. Even more he wanted to hold his beloved Claire. Surely she had heard about the German invasion. She was constantly listening to the news from Paris and London on the radio. He couldn’t imagine the anxiety she was going through. Finally, just after two in the morning, he reached his objective.