Lux Fruit Quotes

To use an obsolete Latin word, I might say, Ex Oriente lux; ex Occidente FRUX. From the East light; from the West fruit.

A magazine on the seat beside hers had opened to Florida, trees dripping golden fruit, sun, luxe. Heat. Women in fishtails undulating in mottled green.

Then it was horn time. Time for the big solo. Sonny lifted the trumpet - One! Two! - He got it into sight - Three! We all stopped dead. I mean we stopped. That wasn't Sonny's horn. This one was dented-in and beat-up and the tip-end was nicked. It didn't shine, not a bit. Lux leaned over-you could have fit a coffee cup into his mouth. "Jesus God," he said. "Am I seeing right?" I looked close and said: "Man, I hope not." But why kid? We'd seen that trumpet a million times. It was Spoof's. Rose-Ann was trembling. Just like me, she remembered how we'd buried the horn with Spoof. And she remembered how quiet it had been in Sonny's room last night... I started to think real hophead thoughts, like - where did Sonny get hold of a shovel that late? and how could he expect a horn to play that's been under the ground for two years? and - That blast got into our ears like long knives. Spoof's own trademark! Sonny looked caught, like he didn't know what to do at first, like he was hypnotized, scared, almighty scared. But as the sound came out, rolling out, sharp and clean and clear - new-trumpet sound - his expression changed. His eyes changed: they danced a little and opened wide. Then he closed them, and blew that horn. Lord God of the Fishes, how he blew it! How he loved it and caressed it and pushed it up, higher and higher and higher. High C? Bottom of the barrel. He took off, and he walked all over the rules and stamped them flat. The melody got lost, first off. Everything got lost, then, while that horn flew. It wasn't only jazz; it was the heart of jazz, and the insides, pulled out with the roots and held up for everybody to see; it was blues that told the story of all the lonely cats and all the ugly whores who ever lived, blues that spoke up for the loser lamping sunshine out of iron-gray bars and every hop head hooked and gone, for the bindlestiffs and the city slicers, for the country boys in Georgia shacks and the High Yellow hipsters in Chicago slums and the bootblacks on the corners and the fruits in New Orleans, a blues that spoke for all the lonely, sad and anxious downers who could never speak themselves... And then, when it had said all this, it stopped and there was a quiet so quiet that Sonny could have shouted: 'It's okay, Spoof. It's all right now. You get it said, all of it - I'll help you. God, Spoof, you showed me how, you planned it - I'll do my best!' And he laid back his head and fastened the horn and pulled in air and blew some more. Not sad, now, not blues - but not anything else you could call by a name. Except... jazz. It was Jazz. Hate blew out of that horn, then. Hate and fury and mad and fight, like screams and snarls, like little razors shooting at you, millions of them, cutting, cutting deep... And Sonny only stopping to wipe his lip and whisper in the silent room full of people: 'You're saying it, Spoof! You are!' God Almighty Himself must have heard that trumpet, then; slapping and hitting and hurting with notes that don't exist and never existed. Man! Life took a real beating! Life got groined and sliced and belly-punched and the horn, it didn't stop until everything had all spilled out, every bit of the hate and mad that's built up in a man's heart. ("Black Country")

Je profitais passionnément du privilège de l'enfance pour qui la beauté, le luxe, le bonheur sont des choses qui se mangent; devant les confiseries, je me pétrifiais, fascinée par l'éclat lumineux des fruits confits, le sourd chatoiement des pâtes de fruits, la floraison bigarrée des bonbons acidulés; vert, rouge, orange, violet: je convoitais les couleurs elles-mêmes autant que le plaisir qu'elles me promettaient. Le rose des bonbons se dégradait en nuances exquises: je plongeais ma cuillère dans un coucher de soleil.

SECTION XI.--The Strength of Simplicity. The soul in the state of abandonment knows how to see God even in the proud who oppose His action. All creatures, good or evil, reveal Him to it. __________________________________________________________________ The whole practice of the simple soul is in the accomplishment of the will of God. This it respects even in those unruly actions by which the proud attempt to depreciate it. The proud soul despises one in whose sight it is as nothing, who beholds only God in it, and in all its actions. Often it imagines that the modesty of the simple soul is a mark of appreciation for itself; when, all the time, it is only a sign of that loving fear of God and of His holy will as shown to it in the person of the proud. No, poor fool, the simple soul fears you not at all. You excite its compassion; it is answering God when you think it is speaking to you: it is with Him that it believes it has to do; it regards you only as one of His slaves, or rather as a mask with which He disguises Himself. Therefore the more you take a high tone, the lower you become in its estimation; and when you think to take it by surprise, it surprises you. Your wiles and violence are just favours from Heaven. The proud soul cannot comprehend itself, but the simple soul, with the light of faith, can very clearly see through it. The finding of the divine action in all that occurs at each moment, in and around us, is true science, a continuous revelation of truth, and an unceasingly renewed intercourse with God. It is a rejoicing with the Spouse, not in secret, nor by stealth, in the cellar, or the vineyard, but openly, and in public, without any human respect. It is a fund of peace, of joy, of love, and of satisfaction with God who is seen, known, or rather, believed in, living and operating in the most perfect manner in everything that happens. It is the beginning of eternal happiness not yet perfectly realised and tasted, except in an incomplete and hidden manner. The Holy Spirit, who arranges all the pieces on the board of life, will, by this fruitful and continual presence of His action, say at the hour of death, "fiat lux," "let there be light" (Gen. i, 14), and then will be seen the treasures which faith hides in this abyss of peace and contentment with God, and which will be found in those things that have been every moment done, or suffered for Him. When God gives Himself thus, all that is common becomes wonderful; and it is on this account that nothing seems to be so, because this way is, in itself, extraordinary. Consequently it is unnecessary to make it full of strange and unsuitable marvels. It is, in itself, a miracle, a revelation, a constant joy even with the prevalence of minor faults. But it is a miracle which, while rendering all common and sensible things wonderful, has nothing in itself that is sensibly marvellous.

De cette assise sortent les spirales des liserons à cloches blanches, les brindilles de la bugrane rose, mêlées de quelques fougères, de quelques jeunes pousses de chêne aux feuilles magnifiquement colorées et lustrées ; toutes s’avancent prosternées, humbles comme des saules pleureurs, timides et suppliantes comme des prières. Au-dessus, voyez les fibrilles déliées, fleuries, sans cesse agitées de l’amourette purpurine qui verse à flots ses anthères presque jaunes ; les pyramides neigeuses du paturin des champs et des eaux, la verte chevelure des bromes stériles, les panaches effilés de ces agrostis nommés les épis du vent ; violâtres espérances dont se couronnent les premiers rêves et qui se détachent sur le fond gris de lis où la lumière rayonne autour de ces herbes en fleurs. Mais déjà plus haut, quelques roses du Bengale clairsemées parmi les folles dentelles du daucus, les plumes de la linaigrette, les marabous de la reine des prés, les ombellules du cerfeuil sauvage, les blonds cheveux de la clématite en fruits, les mignons sautoirs de la croisette au blanc de lait, les corymbes des millefeuilles, les tiges diffuses de la fumeterre aux fleurs roses et noires, les vrilles de la vigne, les brins tortueux des chèvrefeuilles ; enfin tout ce que ces naïves créatures ont de plus échevelé, de plus déchiré, des flammes et de triples dards, des feuilles lancéolées, déchiquetées, des tiges tourmentées comme les désirs entortillés au fond de l’âme. Du sein de ce prolixe torrent d’amour qui déborde, s’élance un magnifique double pavot rouge accompagné de ses glands prêts à s’ouvrir, déployant les flammèches de son incendie au- dessus des jasmins étoilés et dominant la pluie incessante du pollen, beau nuage qui papillote dans l’air en reflétant le jour dans ses mille parcelles luisantes ! Quelle femme enivrée par la senteur d’Aphrodise cachée dans la flouve, ne comprendra ce luxe d’idées soumises, cette blanche tendresse troublée par des mouvements indomptés, et ce rouge désir de l’amour qui demande un bonheur refusé dans les luttes cent fois recommencées de la passion contenue, infatigable, éternelle ? Mettez ce discours dans la lumière d’une croisée, afin d’en montrer les frais détails, les délicates oppositions, les arabesques, afin que la souveraine émue y voie une fleur plus épanouie et d’où tombe une larme ; elle sera bien près de s’abandonner, il faudra qu’un ange ou la voix son enfant la retienne au bord de l’abîme. Que donne-t-on à Dieu ? des parfums, de la lumière et des chants, les expressions les plus épurées de notre nature. Eh! bien, tout ce qu’on offre à Dieu n’était-il pas offert à l’amour dans ce poème de fleurs lumineuses qui bourdonnait incessamment ses mélodies au cœur, en y caressant des voluptés cachées, des espérances inavouées, des illusions qui s’enflamment et s’éteignent comme des fils de la vierge par une nuit chaude.

Natural Ways to Help Depression Depression is not one illness. Like anxiety, the pandemic spawned a whole new level of people being diagnosed with depression and placed on antidepressant medication, without ever getting a proper evaluation or trying simple fixes. Here are nine common things I do for patients before prescribing antidepressant medication. 1. Check for and (if necessary) correct thyroid hormone abnormalities. 2. Work with a nutritionally informed physician to optimize your folate, vitamin B12, vitamin D, homocysteine, and omega-3 fatty acids. I’m convinced that without doing these nutritional fixes, patients are less likely to respond to the medications. 3. Try an elimination diet for three weeks. 4. Add colorful fruits and vegetables into your diet. 5. Eliminate the ANTs (automatic negative thoughts). See days 22, 116–117. 6. Exercise—walk like you are late for 45 minutes four times a week. This has been found to be as effective as antidepressant medication.[1] 7. Add one of the following supplements to your daily routine: Saffron 30 mg/day; curcumin, not as turmeric root but as Longvida, which is much more efficiently absorbed; zinc as citrate or glycinate 30 mg (tolerable upper level is 40 mg/day for adults, 34 mg/day for adolescents, less for younger kids); or magnesium glycinate, citrate, or malate, 100–500 mg with 30 mg of vitamin B6. 8. Consume probiotics daily. 9. Try morning bright light therapy with a therapeutic lamp of 10,000 lux for 20–30 minutes. If someone comes to me with depression, I order screening labs, teach them not to believe every negative thought they have, give them basic supplements (saffron, zinc, curcumins, and omega-3s), and encourage them to exercise. Many people never need medication if they follow through with the program. If the above interventions are ineffective, I’ll try other nutraceuticals or medications targeted to their specific type of depression (take the test at brainhealthassessment.com).

La devotion silencieuse est un luxe, une pratique de croyants raffines; les masses hurlent leur foi grossiere non seulement on Orient, mais aussi en Occident. La foie des ames simples engendre partout les memes aberrations. Le tantrisme meprise l'homme routinier, se conformant sans les discuter aux us et coutumes du milieu social auquel il appartient et acceptant de meme les idees dont ceux-ci derivent. L'aventure est pour moi l'unique raison d'etre de la vie. Les idees des Orientaux concernant ce qui est decent et ce qui est indecent sont tres differentes des notres et rien de ce qui concerne le sexe ne leur parait propre a donner lieu a l'hilarite ou au scandale. Ce qui compte, ce sont les sentiments que le gourou ou le dieu fait naitre en nous. L'un comme l'autre remplissent le role d'excitateurs et mettent en action en nous des energies qui autrement demeureraient dormantes. Ainsi, il est recommande de ne pas eplucher la conduite de son gourou, de ne pas investiguer l'etendue de son erudition ou de son intelligence puisqu'en somme ce n'est pas absolument de lui que depend le benefice recherche par le disciple, mais que ce benefice est plutot le fruit des sentiments du disciple lui-meme. Les Orientaux ne sont jamais presses, ils vivent dans l'eternite. Les intimes de Gandhi supportaient joyeusement la charge passablement lourde, avouaient-ils parfois, de sa pauvrete couteuse. Aucun blame ne peut etre adresse a Gandhi pour avoir mene la vie classique du gourou indienavec tout ce qu'elle comporte d'ostentation quant a une "simplicite" factice: elle est presque imposee aux gourous par la force d'habitudes seculaires. L'esclavage spirituel ne deplait point aux Indiens, la majorite d'entre eux s'y soumettent meme avec joie. Gandhi, disait Nehru, pense continuellement en termes de salut personnel et de peche, il ne se preoccupe pas de reforme des institutions ou de la structure de la societe, mais seulement de bannir le peche de la vie des individus. Des intrus flanent a loisir dans les galeries des palais et sous les verandas des batiment ou rien ne les appelle: ils veulent simplement "regarder", ce qui est eminemment oriental. Quel que soit l'ideal qu'il cherisse, quel que soit le but qu'il poursuive, l'Indien, qu'il en soit conscient ou non, se sent toujours non point seulement le porte-parole d'un dieu, mais Dieu lui-meme possesseur de la Verite.