Mark Ellen Quotes

Losing It Some days I think I'm losing my mind. What seems so clear most of the time becomes a big question mark. Am I really the way I percieve myself, or is the person others see the truth of me? I wait for answers, but inside I know I have to go out and find them. And answers like knowledge, are not always where we first look for them.

I just think it's important to be direct and honest with people about why you're photographing them and what you're doing. After all, you are taking some of their soul.

Mark ran his fingers over the bindings and whispered words, written long ago, words that wriggled through the aged leather, trembled beneath his touch. What lives and loves, hopes and dreams, deaths and despair these volumes held.

Wyrd oft nered unfaegne, eorl, ponne his ellen deah. Often, for undaunted courage, fate spares the man it has not already marked.

Fire! Your nose ignites, flameless kerosene (and, some say, Drano) laced with ephedrine you want to cry powdered demons bite through cartilage and sinuses, take dead aim at your brain, jump inside want to scream troops of tapping feet fall into rhythm, marking time, right between your eyes get the urge to dance louder, louder, ultra gray-matter power, shock waves of energy mushroom inside your head you want to let go detonate, annihilate barriers, bring down the walls, unleashing floodwaters, freeing long-captive dreams to ride the current through arteries and capillaries, pulsing, rushing, raging torrents pounding against your heart sweeping you away

Universal design systems can no longer be dismissed as the irrelevant musings of a small, localized design community. A second modernism has emerged, reinvigorating the utopian search for universal forms that marked the birth of design as a discourse and a discipline nearly a century earlier.

I love to fly. It's just you're alone, there's peace and quiet, nothing around you but clear blue sky. No one to hassle you. No one to tell you where to go or what to do. The only bad part about flying is having to come back down to the fuckin' world.

Ellen was in her late thirties, plump, her face unblemished still. It was as though whatever marks being in the world had left upon it up to the time the aunt vanished had been removed from between the skeleton and the skin, between the sum of experience and the envelope in which it resides, by intervening years of annealing and untroubled flesh.

Celebrities are often driven by a deep narcissistic quest to fuel their insatiable ego—a personality trait that often leads them to the entertainment industry in the first place. As Ellen DeGeneres once joked when hosting the Oscars, “We know that the most important thing in the world is love and friendship and family…and if people don’t have those things, well then, they usually get into show business.”294

The typical capitalists are lovers of power rather than sensual indulgence, but they have the same tendency to crush and to take tribute that the cruder types of sensualism possess. The discipline of the capitalist is the same as that of the frugalist. He differs from the latter in that he has no regard for the objects through which productive power is acquired. HE does not hesitate to exploit natural resources, lands, dumb animals and even his fellowman. Capital to such a man is an abstract fund, made up of perishable elements which are quickly replaced… The frugalist…stands in marked contrast to the attitude of the capitalist. The frugalist takes a vital interest in his tools, in his land, and in the goods he produces. He has a definite attachment to each. He dislikes to see an old coat wear out, an old wagon break down, or an old horse go lame. He always thinks of concrete things, wants them and nothing else. He desires not land, but a given farm, not horses or cattle and machines, but particular breeds and implements; not shelter, but a home…. He rejects as unworthy what is below standard and despises as luxurious what is above or outside of it. Dominated by activities, he thinks of capital as a means to an end.

Weddings matter. Not just because they mark a significant turning point in a couple's lives, which they do. Weddings also serve as rare reunions for extended families and long-lost friends. They are a continuation of sacred rights and centuries-old traditions. And, most important, they are opportunities for joy. We don't have enough of those in this harried, workaholic society-whole days set aside just to eat and drink and dance and be together. This is the real gift if the wedding, and it's given both to the couple and to everyone lucky enough to be present at their union.

Jagiello, Michael E. [IMD]; Dray, Hunter [IMD]; Eng, Edward [IMD]; Yu, Linda [IMD]; Locarno, Chelsey [IMD]; Raverta, Kristen S. [IMD]; Labaudiniere, Margaux [IMD]; Harris, Abigail O. [IMD]; Kellogg, Kenyon [IMD]; Bragdon, Chris [IMD]; Mason, Sydney C [IMD]; Schetman, Elizabeth [IMD]; Martin, Lauren [IMD]; Ferrara, Mark M. [IMD]; Glennon, Sara [IMD]; Romano, Christian J. [IMD]; Kieran, Michaela E. [IMD]; Holdstock, Evan [IMD]; Barrile, David [IMD]; Mullin, Tucker [IMD]; Nadas, Alex [IMD]; Halvorson, Andrew P. [IMD]; Petit, Michael [IMD]; Hanson, Matt M. [IMD]; Herlacher, Ellen [IMD]; Crimmings, Michael [IMD]

A cavalry of sweaty but righteous blond gods chased pesky, unkempt people across an annoyingly leaky Mexican border. A grimy cowboy with a headdress of scrawny vultures lay facedown in fiery sands at the end of a trail of his own groveling claw marks, body flattened like a roadkill, his back a pincushion of Apache arrows. He rose and shook his head as if he had merely walked into a doorknob. Never mind John Wayne and his vultures and an “Oregon Trail” lined with the Mesozoic buttes of the Southwest, where the movies were filmed, or the Indians who were supposed to be northern plains Cheyenne but actually were Navajo extras in costume department Sioux war bonnets saying mischievous, naughty things in Navajo, a language neither filmmaker nor audience understood anyway, but which the interpreter onscreen translated as soberly as his forked tongue could manage, “Well give you three cents an acre.” Never mind the ecologically incorrect arctic loon cries on the soundtrack. I loved that desert.

The fire that consumes the wicked purifies the earth. Every trace of the curse is swept away. No eternally burning hell will keep before the ransomed the fearful consequences of sin. One reminder alone remains: our Redeemer will ever bear the marks of His crucifixion….

Remember that you will never reach a higher standard than you yourself set. Then set your mark high, and step by step, even though it be by painful effort, by self-denial and sacrifice, ascend the whole length of the ladder [332] of progress. Let nothing hinder you. Fate has not woven its meshes about any human being so firmly that he need remain helpless and in uncertainty. Opposing circumstances should create a firm determination to overcome them. The breaking down of one barrier will give greater ability and courage to go forward. Press with determination in the right direction, and circumstances will be your helpers, not your hindrances.

You mean who do I like? Oh, Mary Ellen Mark. Diane Arbus.” “Arbus?” He scratched his head. “Wasn’t it she who said, ‘Nothing is ever the same as they said it was. It’s what I’ve never seen before that I recognize’?

(Be a Servant Leader: Mt 20:26-28; Lk 9:46-48; 22:24-27; Jn 12:24) Christ has given to every man his work, and we are to acknowledge the wisdom of the plan He has made for us by a hearty cooperation with Him. It is in a life of service only that true happiness is found. He who lives a useless, selfish life is miserable. He is dissatisfied with himself and with everyone else. True, unselfish, consecrated workers gladly use their highest gifts in the lowliest service. They realize that true service means to see and to perform the duties that God points out. There are many who are not satisfied with the work that God has given them. They are not satisfied to serve Him pleasantly in the place that He has marked out for them, or to do uncomplainingly the work that He has placed in their hands. It is right for us to be dissatisfied with the way in which we perform duty, but we are not to be dissatisfied with the duty itself, because we would rather do something else. In His providence God places before human beings service that will be as medicine to their diseased minds. Thus He seeks to lead them to put aside the selfish preferences which, if cherished, would disqualify them for the work He has for them. If they accept and perform this service, their minds will be cured. But if they refuse it, they will be left at strife with themselves and with others. The Lord disciplines His workers, so that they will be prepared to fill the places appointed them. He desires to mold their minds in accordance with His will. For this purpose He brings to them test and trial. Some He places where relaxed discipline and over-indulgence will not become their snare, where they are taught to appreciate the value of time, and to make the best and wisest use of it. There are some who desire to be a ruling power, and who need the sanctification of submission. God brings about a change in their lives, and perhaps places before them duties that they would not choose. If they are willing to be guided by Him, He will give them grace and strength to perform the objectionable duties in a spirit of submission and helpfulness. They are being qualified to fill places where their disciplined abilities will make them of the greatest service. Some God trains by bringing to them disappointment and apparent failure. It is His purpose that they shall learn to master difficulty. He inspires them with a determination to make every apparent failure prove a success. Often men pray and weep because of the perplexities and obstacles that confront them. But if they will hold the beginning of their confidence steadfast unto the end, He will make their way clear. Success will come to them as they struggle against apparently insurmountable difficulties; and with success will come the greatest joy. Many are ignorant of how to work for God, not because they need to be ignorant, but because they are not willing to submit to His training process. -8MR 422, 423 • TMK 44-The Pattern Man; UL 62-A Living Connection With the Living God

As the sun goes down, let the voice of prayer and the hymn of praise mark the close of the sacred hours and invite God’s presence through the cares of the week of labor. Thus parents can make the Sabbath, as it should be, the most joyful day of the week. They can lead their children to regard it as a delight, the day of days, the holy of the Lord, honorable. —Testimonies for the Church, vol. 6, pp. 358, 359.

Sure, she was going to turn eighteen in less than a year. She’d been in the system long enough to know that eighteenth birthdays weren’t marked by celebrations. When the checks stopped coming, she’d be on her own. “Aging out” of foster care meant becoming homeless. She’d heard stories of kids ending up in jail and hospital emergency rooms, selling drugs, living on welfare and food stamps. How desperate did a person have to become before they broke the law to survive? For now, things were good, and she didn’t want to mess that up.

The name, Seventh-day Adventist, is a standing rebuke to the Protestant world. Here is the line of distinction between the worshipers of God, and those who worship the beast, and receive his mark. The great conflict is between the commandments of God and the requirements of the beast. Ellen G. White Father Exodus 20:8King James Version (KJV) 8 Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Malachi 3:6King James Version (KJV) 6 For I am the Lord, I change not; therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed. Son John 10:30King James Version (KJV) 30 I and my Father are one. Luke 4:16King James Version (KJV) 16 And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up: and, as his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the sabbath day, and stood up for to read. Mark 1:21-22King James Version (KJV) 21 And they went into Capernaum; and straightway on the sabbath day he entered into the synagogue, and taught. 22 And they were astonished at his doctrine: for he taught them as one that had authority, and not as the scribes. Luke 13:10King James Version (KJV) 10 And he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath.

And even inside yourself, In these untrodden plains, There is no road marked out … ‘You make the road by walking’…

for fantasy permeated the popular folk music of the time—the imagery in lyrics by musicians like Mark Bolan, Donovan, and Cat Stevens, and in old British ballads performed by new folk-rock bands like Fairport Convention, Pentangle, and Steel-eye Span. I suspect that I am not the only reader of fantastic fiction who came to it through this musical back door; and here is another example of the endurance of the old stories, adapting themselves to the radio air-waves and the bass line beat of rock and roll.

It’s not when you press the shutter, but why you press the shutter.

I peeled back her collar while she sat there, suddenly frightened for her. I didn’t know what I was going to find. But I know I hadn’t been expecting that. The skin underneath was the same color and texture of petroleum jelly. No blemishes, no bite marks, no discolorations. No veins. Only an off-white creaminess glimmering like she’d bathed herself in oil.

Mark opened his arms and Beth stepped into them, seamlessly, without hesitation, as if two parts of the whole had come together…two halves of a heart, two breaths from the same lungs, two pieces of a puzzle fitting snugly and clipping into place.

Ellen followed his progress, thinking of all those young men who believed it was fashionable to wear their pants hanging half off their butts and loose enough to fit an entire basketball team. They should see the way a real man wore jeans.

Neil Tennant: Live Aid was the last thing I was asked to do for Smash Hits. Mark [Ellen] asked me to cover it, and for some completely childish reason I just sort of couldn’t be bothered and said no. So I watched Live Aid sitting in my studio flat on the King’s Road with Jon Savage and [photographer] Eric Watson, all three of us slagging it off.

I know you were lying to me the whole night. That's OK because I lied to you too. I said I didn’t remember what I felt like before my accident, before I became the narcoleptic me. I remember what it felt like. I was awake, always awake. I didn’t miss anything. I could read books for more than a few pages at a time. I didn’t smoke. I watched movies from start to finish in real goddamn theaters, wouldn’t even leave my seat to go to the bathroom. I stayed up late on purpose. Woke up and went to sleep when I wanted. Sleep was my pet, something I control, schedule, took for walks. Sit up, roll over, lie down, stay down, give me your fucking paw. Not now, only me, and everything else is on the periphery. Just slightly out of reach or out of touch or out of time. I don’t have a real career or a real life. Ellen supports me and I sleepwalk through the rest.

Edwards wrote in his Religious Affections that most thoughtful human beings feel a sense of gratitude for God’s gifts: life, health, a crisp, sky-blue day. He called it natural gratitude. That, while a common good, is not enough to stir us to true, deep love for the Giver. If people love God only because of what He gives, Edwards points out that “even a dog will love his master that is kind to him.”1 As Betty Howard wrote, there is a deeper, more mysterious, more sustaining sense of thankfulness: gratitude to God not for what He gives, but who He is. Edwards denoted this as supernatural gratitude, and said that it is the mark of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer. This radical, gracious gratitude can thrive even in the midst of times of pain, trouble, and distress. It is relational, rather than conditional, drawing the human being who knows God into closer intimacy with Him.

The religion which is current in our day is not of the pure and holy character that marked the Christian faith in the days of Christ and His apostles. It is only because of the spirit of compromise with sin, because the great truths of the word of God are so indifferently regarded, because there is so little vital godliness in the church, that Christianity is apparently so popular with the world.

disciples. He brought the twelve of them together in a large room in a house in Jerusalem. They sat down to have a seder—the Passover meal—together. It was to be Jesus’s Last Supper. According to the Gospel of Mark, as they ate, Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples were shocked. Who would betray Jesus? Each said, “Surely, not I?” Jesus insisted that “It is one of the twelve.” He did not say who. He did not seem angry. Jesus blessed the bread and the wine, and the seder continued. At the end of the seder, Jesus said, “I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine”—by that he meant wine—“until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.” He knew that his enemies were gathering. He knew he would die soon. Afterward, Jesus and the disciples left the room and went to the Mount of Olives. There Jesus gave them another warning. He

Though God is strict to mark iniquity and to punish transgression, He takes no delight in vengeance. The work of destruction is a “strange work” to Him who is infinite in love.

If we were to cherish an habitual impression that God sees and hears all that we do and say and keeps a faithful record of our words and actions, and that we must meet it all, we would fear to sin. Let the young ever remember that wherever they are, and whatever they do, they are in the presence of God. No part of our conduct escapes observation. We cannot hide our ways from the Most High. Human laws, though sometimes severe, are often transgressed without detection, and hence with impunity. But not so with the law of God. The deepest midnight is no cover for the guilty one. He may think himself alone, but to every deed there is an unseen witness. The very motives of his heart are open to divine inspection. Every act, every word, every thought, is as distinctly marked as though there were only one person in the whole world, and the attention of heaven were centered upon him.

popular in the 1800s, people hadn’t begun to equate scent with sex. However, Marissa doubted that an ad campaign would be built around ankle-length dresses. Unless Madonna agreed to pose in a bustle. She put her finger in the coin holder in the car and wiggled it around. A dollar thirty-seven. Not even enough for lunch. Ellen would have to fork over since she insisted

Names of places are often the key to discovering unused but special places. For example, when I moved into my present home, I noticed that there was a Harrow Hill and a Redbeards Wood marked on a large-scale map of the area. ‘Harrow’ usually derives from the Saxon hearg or altar, and ‘Redbeard’ is a nickname for the God Thor. Sometimes a well or spring will be dedicated to a Christian saint, but many of these reflect a Christianisation of earlier local deities. Thus the Goddess Ellen of the Land often appears in place names as St Helen, and Bride or Brid (of the Brideswell) becomes St Bridget. Several

I believe you!" Miss Ellen nodded. "Mark my words, Mr. Meredith, that man is going to fight somebody yet. He's ACHING to. He is going to set the world on fire." "If

The fruit of the Spirit is love.” Mark the words,—love, not hatred; it is joy, not discontent and mourning; peace, not irritation, anxiety and manufactured trials. It is “long-suffering gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.”…

A moss-covered path tended its way around the magnolia tree. Mark started along it, his leg brushing against the perennial border where cheerful yellow daffodils nodded their heads in greeting.

Mark put his bag on the floor and looked around. Chintz wallpaper with pink roses on a light cream background covered the walls, while drapes of the same pattern fell across French doors that obviously led outside.

On your mark!" I looked up at the starry night. "Get set!" I smiled at the night, the stars and everybody at the stadium.

Barriers remain in place, disabling us, and denying our full participation in the everyday. The current government wallows in an ideology that crushes us with cuts to social care, to services – and to disabled arts organisations. Immediately after Silent Witness, Ellen Clifford, of Disabled People Against Cuts, was on Newsnight, pointing out that “the United Nations made a finding of grave and systemic violations towards disabled people”. Who cares? Who’s listening? Unexpectedly Silent Witness seemed to be this week. And with viewing figures averaging 6 million, let’s hope it marks a watershed moment in our understanding and acceptance of disabled people.

Bless you, it hasn't," rumbled Ellen. "The day never goes by for men and nations to make asses of themselves and take to the fists. The millenniun isn't THAT near, Mr. Meredith, and YOU don't think it is any more than I do. As for this Kaiser, mark my words, he is going to make a heap of trouble"—and Miss Ellen prodded her book emphatically with her long finger. "Yes, if he isn't nipped in the bud he's going to make trouble. WE'LL live to see it—you and I will live to see it, Mr. Meredith. And who is going to nip him? England should, but she won't. WHO is going to nip him? Tell me that, Mr.