Mn Quotes

Hindi ako hihingi ng dispensa sa mga nabulabog kong konsensya." "Kung nasira ko man ang araw mo, o kung hindi mo ito inkinatuwa, malinaw na hindi ako ang tipo ng manunulat na gusto mong basahin. Pero hindi ito nangangahulugan ng pagkakakumpiska ng ballpen at lisensya ko para magsulat." PERO "Kung may magsasabi mn sa hinaharap na: "sana nagpatawa ka na lang!" yun ay opinyong handa kong tanggapin.

Straightening up so the full force of that cold blast hit him square in the face, Qhuinn glared into the rush, picturing those pines ahead that he couldn’t see because his eyes were watering from the wind. Opening his mouth, he screamed bloody murder, adding his voice to the maelstrom. Godd*mn it, he wasn’t going down like a pussy. No ducking, no pathetic oh-please-God-no-saaaaaave-me. F**k that. He was going to meet death with his fangs bared and his body braced and his heart pounding not from fear, but from a whole boatload of . . . “Blow me, Grim Reaper!

She's Heaven, I'm Hell. When we're together angels cry and Hell freezes over. -Shadow

സംതൃപ്തമായ യുവത്വം നിഷ്ക്രിയമായ യുവത്വവും നിര്ജീവമായ ജീവിതവുമായിത്തീരും... യുവത്വത്തിന് അതിന്റെ അസ്വസ്ഥത നഷ്ടപ്പെടുമ്പോള് അതൊരു യന്ത്രം പോലെ സമര്ത്ഥവും നിര്ജീവവും വന്ധ്യവും ആയിത്തീരും. വന്ധ്യതയ്ക്ക് ഒന്നിനെയും സൃഷ്ടിക്കുവാന് കഴിയാത്തതുകൊണ്ട് പുതിയ ഒരു ലോകക്രമത്തെ നിര്മ്മിക്കുവാനും അതിന് കഴിയില്ല.

Ik zit, m'n benen bunglend, op de waterkant En in een bootje hoor ik ginds een tango spelen; Verdomd! Ik wist niet, dat er in dit land Nog zoveel aards geluk viel weg te stelen.

പുറത്താക്കാ പെട്ടവരും തോറ്റു പോയവരും പര്സ്വ വല്കരിക്കപെട്ടവരും കൊടുംകാറ്റായി ചീറി അടിക്കുമെന്ന മുന്നറിയിപ്പിന്റെ വിളക്ക് മടാങ്ങളില്‍ ഇപ്പോഴും തിയെരിയുന്നു ഒരു വെളിച്ചവും കെട്ടിട്ടില്ല വന്‍ കാറ്റുകളില്‍ ആളി കത്തിക്കാനായി അത് ഓര്‍മകളെ ഇന്ധനമാകുന്നു

Ze glimlachte de lach die ik zo goed kende en die nooit uit m'n geest zou verdwijnen. 'Dat gaat wel,' zei ze. 'Met mij ook,' zei ik. We logen, geloof ik, allebei.

Looking at him in his cut, tattoos peeking out beneath his shirt, I realize why I can't have a Prince Charming; I've fallen in love with the villain.

ഇരയായി ഉടുപ്പിട്ട്‌ അഭിനയിക്കുകയാണ്‌ ഇര പിടിക്കുവാനുള്ള പുതിയ തന്ത്രം. ആലയില്‍ കടക്കാനും ആടുകളെ നയിക്കാനും ഇതും ഒരു തന്ത്രമാണെ്‌ പഴമക്കാരും അറിഞ്ഞിരുന്നു‍. ആദാമിന്‍റെ സന്തതി പരമ്പരയില്‍ ഈ തന്ത്രം ഇപ്പോഴും ഫലിക്കാതിരിക്കുന്നി‍ല്ല. അതുകൊണ്ട്‌ ഒരാശയത്തെ നശിപ്പിക്കുവാന്‍ അതേ ഇനത്തില്‍പ്പെട്ട സൂക്ഷ്മജീവികളെ നിയോഗിക്കാം. രാസായുധങ്ങളെക്കാള്‍ മെച്ചം ജൈവായുധങ്ങളാണ്‌

ആത്മീയമാകട്ടെ ഭൌതീകമാകട്ടെ എല്ലാ ദര്‍ശനങ്ങളും മനുഷ്യന്റെ അതി ജീവനത്തില്‍ നിന്നുണ്ടയതാണ് പുറത്തുള്ള ലോകത്തേയും അകത്തുള്ള ലോകത്തേയും തിരിച്ചറിയാന്‍ കഴിയാതെ വരുമ്പോഴാണ് ദാര്‍ശനിക പ്രശ്നങ്ങള്‍ ഉണ്ടാകുന്നതു

Tuhanku, puaskan aku dengan aturanMu daripada aturanku, dengan pilihanMu daripada pilihanku

A mn ages hs enemy because he hates his own hate. He says to himself: I hate him not because he's my enemy, not because he hates me, but because he arouses me to hate.

Another d-mn'd thick, square book! Always, scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh! Mr. Gibbon?

ചിത്രീകരിക്കാന്‍ തുടങ്ങുംബോഴേക്കും ജീവിതം തന്നെ മാറി പോകുന്നു.... ശാശ്വതികയുടെ സ്ഥാനത്ത് ക്ഷണികത പ്രതിഷ്ഠിക്കപ്പെടുന്നു.. . ഒരിക്കല്‍ ഉപയോഗിച്ച് വലിച്ചെറിയുന്ന ഉത്തരേന്ത്യന്‍ മണ്‍ക്കപ്പു പോലെ യായി തീര്‍ന്നിരിക്കുന്നു ഇന്ന് ജീവിതം

Fireflies can't live without the dark.

He leans his face next to my ear, his breath smelling of chocolate making me want him more. I moan, my body defying the warnings in my mind. “You can try and act like you don’t want me, that you have control,” he breathes into my ear as he thrusts his groin harder against me. He's still pulling my hair, making me arch my back. He slowly pulls his hips away and my ass thrusts itself against his groin trying to regain contact. The action takes me by surprise. Shadow lets out a vicious laugh. 'But your body can’t lie,' he nips my earlobe making me practically come on the spot, the pain shooting to my toes making them curl with pleasure, 'you have no power.'

October 16, 2009 Avengers Paintball, Inc. 1778 Industrial Blvd. Lakeville, MN 55044 Esteemed Avengers, This letter recommends Mr. Allen Trent for a position at your paintball emporium. Mr. Trent received a C– in my expository writing class last spring, which—given my newly streamlined and increasingly generous grading criteria—is quite the accomplishment. His final project consisted of a ten-page autobiographical essay on the topic of his own rageful impulses and his (often futile) attempts to control them. He cited his dentist and his roommate as primary sources. Consider this missive a testament to Mr. Trent’s preparedness for the work your place of business undoubtedly has in store. Hoping to maintain a distance of at least one hundred yards, Jason T. Fitger Professor of Creative Writing and English Payne University (“Teach ’til It Hurts”)

ചോദ്യം ചെയ്യുന്നവരെ പുറത്താക്കുമ്പോള് ഒരു പറ്റം ഭീരുക്കള് മാത്രം അവശേഷിക്കുന്ന ഒരു സ്ഥാപനമായി പാര്ട്ടി മാറും. ഭീരുക്കള്ക്ക് എത്ര കാലം അവിടെ ഒരു രക്ഷാ മാര്ഗ്ഗമായിക്കണ്ട ഒളിച്ചിരിക്കാനാവും? പരാജയപ്പെടുമ്പോഴും രക്ഷിക്കുന്ന സംരഭങ്ങളാണ് ഇന്നത്തെ കാലഘട്ടം നമ്മോട് ആവശ്യപ്പെടുന്നത്. ക്ഷോഭിക്കുന്ന മനുഷ്യര് ഒരു ദിവസം ക്ഷോഭത്തിന്റെ ഒരു നവന് കടലായി അലറി വന്നേക്കാം

It’s nothing personal, but this is a business first.” Damn, if she hadn’t summed up the entirety of education in one line.

mnY reason of b"kup, but it hurts moRe when you don"t know evN a single-1.

mnY reasonS of b"kup, but it hurts when you don"t know evN a single-1.

I came trusting them. They beat me with rods of dullness. They don't know, they don't understand how agonizing their complacent dullness is. Like ants and August sun on a wound." - Carol Kennicott

The first Japanese strike in the Pacific War was not against America at Pearl Harbor. It was against British Malaya. About 90mn before Pearl Harbor, some 5k Japanese troops successfully attacked a British force in Kota Bharu, in the Kelantan Sultanate.

M'n kop zat vol woorden. Geniepige, verleidelijke woorden die zich verscholen tussen oude, stukgelezen kaften, klaar om je te overvallen zodra je het boek durfde te openen. Ze konden je betoveren, vleien, angst aanjagen, in de problemen brengen en gek maken, net als mensen. Maar anders dan bij mensen, nam je hen dat niet kwalijk. Zelfs als ze je aan het huilen maakten, deden ze dat op zo'n mooie manier dat je hun er dankbaar voor was.

If a person cannot swim across the river, he must take the bridge. He is not afraid of the water or worried that he may drown. But he takes the bridge out of necessity. It is a fact. To fear or worry over necessities (over facts), stills the mind. The stagnant mind only focuses and refocuses on a single point, without peripheral vision—it ponders danger, but it does not prepare for it. The brave man is not bound immobile with caution or lost scouting the fog of hazard calculating insurmountable variables. His sight and sense is not hindered and he may confront danger upon its arrival. To be brave is not to be careless or headstrong, but to act without expectation.

The government gives them the drugs, builds bigger prisons, passes a three-strike law and then wants us to sing ‘God Bless America.’ No, no, no, God d*mn America, that’s in the Bible for killing innocent people. God d*mn America for treating our citizens as less than human. God d*mn America for as long as she acts like she is God and she is supreme.

Politics within a small village are tedious and normally best left unengaged.

Zelfmoord heeft ze niet meer geprobeerd, want op het moment dat ze het ijskoude water voelde had ze gedacht: als m'n hart het maar niet begeeft

That fire the lives so deep within you, that fire that makes you my Firefly, I’m afraid my darkness will snuff it out; take you under and make you someone different.

In every angel a devil smiles and in every devil an angel cries.

I’m the wild card.

There were four warlocks here.

Peeking around each building, my body becomes one with the shadows. I’d give Michael Myers a run for his money in the stalking territory. Man, I hate that word. It’s just intense curiosity.

Ik heb me enige onsterfelijke verdiensten aan de mensheid verworven: ik heb nooit een slecht boek geschreven en ik heb het niet op m'n geweten, dat er een ongelukkige méér op deze aarde rondloopt.

Clamor is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Wangji stated. “Then scream for help quietly,” Wei Wuxian said. “Also, when I tear off your clothes, do your very best to keep me at bay. Cover and protect your chest for dear life. Don’t let me tear off anything.” There was momentary silence from under the blanket. “That sounds complicated,” said Lan Wangji, at last. “That’s complicated?!” Wei Wuxian blurted. “Mn,” Lan Wangji affirmed. “Nothing for it, then,” Wei Wuxian said. “Let’s switch. You can rape me instead—

Then the well spoke to me. It said: Abundance is scooped from abundance yet abundance remains. This is a very Gandhian idea. Materialism reinforces a “paradigm of scarcity”: there is not enough to go around, so we are doomed to fight one another for ever-diminishing resources. Spiritual economics begins not from the assumed scarcity of matter but from the verifiable infinitude of consciousness. “Think of this One original source,” Plotinus said, “as a spring, self-generating, feeding all of itself to the rivers and yet not used up by them, ever at rest.” Or, as Gandhi put it, “There is enough in the world for everyone’s need; there is not enough for everyone’s greed.” The appearance of scarcity overcomes those for whom, as the Upanishad says, “the world without alone is real.” There is no scarcity of love, respect, meaning – the resources of consciousness. Such is the timeless wisdom of the Upanishads. –M.N.

Wrath held her even closer, right to his beating chest. “. . . a son?” “Yes. A son.” All of a sudden, he felt the biggest, widest, happiest grin hit his face, the g*dd*mn thing stretching his cheeks until they hurt, making his eyes water from the strain, pulling at his temples until they burned. And the joy wasn’t just on his puss. A flush so great it burned him alive flooded through his body, cleansing him in places he didn’t know were dirty, washing out cobwebs that had crept into his corners, making him feel alive in a way he hadn’t been in a very, very long time. Before he knew what he was doing, he burst to his feet with Beth in his arms, leaned back, and hollered at the top of his lungs, with more pride than his six-foot-nine frame could hold. “A soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon! I’m having a soooooooooooooooooooooooon!” -Wrath & Beth

The cumulative results of the brain’s chemical effects are not well understood. In the 1989 edition of the standard Comprehensive Textbook of Psychiatry, for example, one finds this helpful formula: a depression score is equivalent to the level of 3-methoxy-4-hydroxyphenylglycol (a compound found in the urine of all people and not apparently affected by depression); minus the level of 3-methoxy-4-hydroxymandelic acid; plus the level of norepinephrine; minus the level of normetanephrine plus the level of metanepherine, the sum of those divided by the level of 3-methoxy-4-hydroxymandelic acid; plus an unspecified conversion variable; or, as CTP puts it: “D-type score = C1 (MHPG) - C2 (VMA) + C3 (NE) - C4 (NMN + MN)/VMA + C0.” The score should come out between one for unipolar and zero for bipolar patients, so if you come up with something else—you’re doing it wrong.

Fritz.” The butler rushed over from the crudité arrangement he was working on. “Yes, master! I am eager to be of aid.” “Take this.” iAm peeled the cat off himself, prying both of its front claws out of his fleece. “And do whatever it is you do with it.” As he turned away, he felt like glancing back and making sure G*dd*mn was okay. But why the fuck would he do that? He had to get to Sal’s and check on his staff. Usually he hit the restaurant in the early afternoon, but shit had not been “usual,” what with that migraine: Every time his brother had one, they both got a headache. Now, though, with Trez rebounding and no doubt soon to be on the grind with that Chosen, it was time to get back on his own track. If only to keep himself from going psychotic. Jesus Christ, Trez was now going to fuck that female. And God only knew where that was going to land them all. Just as he hit the exit, he called out over his shoulder, “Fritz.” Through the din of First Meal prep, the doggen answered back, “Yes, master?” “I never find any seafood in this place. Why is that?” “The King does not favor any manner of fin.” “Would he allow it in here?” “Oh, yes, master. Just not upon his table, and certainly never upon his plate.” iAm stared at the panels of the door in front of him. “I want you to get some fresh salmon and poach it. Tonight.” “But of course. I will not have it ready afore First Meal for you—” “Not for me. I hate fish. It’s for G*dd*mn Cat. I want him served that regularly.” He pushed the door open. “And get him some fresh veggies. What kind of cat food does he eat?” “Only the best. Hill’s Science Diet.” “Find out what is in his food—and then I want everything hand-prepared. Nothing out of the bag for him from now on.” Approval bloomed in the old doggen’s voice: “I’m sure Master Boo will appreciate your special interest.” “I’m not interested in that bag of fur.” -iAm, Fritz, & Boo

Needless to say he had a newfound respect for that blind vampire. There were very few things iAm hadn’t been able to move in his adult life. He’d changed a tire while acting as his own tire iron. Had been known to walk vats of sauce big as washing machines around a kitchen. Hell, he’d even actually relocated a washer and dryer without thinking much about it. And then he’d had to lift that truck off his brother about two years ago. Another example of Trez’s love life getting out of control. But down in the training center with Wrath? There’d been no budging that fucker. The King had been bulldog-locked on—and the expression on his face? No emotion, not even a grimace of effort. And that body—viciously strong. iAm shook his head as he crossed that apple tree in full bloom. Trying to budge Wrath had been like pulling on a boulder. Nothing moved; nothing gave. That canine had gotten through, though. Thank God. Now, ordinarily, iAm didn’t like animals in the house—and he definitely wasn’t a dog person. They were too big, too dependent, the shedding—too much. But he respected that golden whatever it was now— Meeeeeeeeeeeerowwwwwwwwwwwwww. “Fuck!” Speak of the devil. As the queen’s black cat wound its way around his feet, he was forced to Michael Jackson it over the damn thing so he didn’t step on it. “Damn it, cat!” The feline followed him all the way into the kitchen, always with the in-and-out around the ankles—almost like it knew he’d been thinking benes about the dog and was establishing dominance. Except cats couldn’t read minds, of course. He stopped and glared at the thing. “What the hell do you want.” Not really a question, as he didn’t care to give the feline an opening. One black paw lifted and then . . . Next thing he knew, the g*dd*mn cat was leaping into his arms, rolling over onto its back . . . and purring like a Ferrari. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he muttered. -iAm & Boo

Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Trez frowned at the sound. Cracking one eye open, he found his brother standing over his bed, Boo the black cat in the male’s arms, an expression of disapproval narrowing those icy eyes. His brother’s, not the cat’s. “Are you spending another night on your ass,” iAm bit out. Not a question, so why bother throwing out an answer. Groaning as he sat up, Trez had to brace his arms to keep his torso vertical. Apparently, while he’d been out of it, the world had turned into a hula hoop and the planet was going around and around his neck. Losing the fight, he flopped back down. As his brother kept standing there, he knew that this was the siren call back to reality. And he wanted to answer it, he really did. His body, however, was out of gas. “When was the last time you fed?” iAm demanded. He shifted his eyes over and dodged the question. “Since when are you an animal lover?” “I hate this g*dd*mn cat.” “I can tell.

Dünkü düşünülerim buydu... Bugünse: geliyorum Viyana'ya, diyebilirim belki. Bugün bugün, yarın da yarın olduğuna göre, özgürlüğümü elimde tutuyorum demektir. Korkma, şaşırtı yapmam; perşembeden sonraya da kalmam. Geleceğimi bildiririm sana. (Yalnız seni göreceğim, başkalarıyla karşılaşmak istemiyorum.) Nasıl olsa salıdan önce olmaz. Güney İstasyonuna ineceğim anlaşılan - hangi istasyondan ayrılacağımı bilmiyorum daha-, o yörede bir yerde kalırım. Nerede ders verdiğini bilseydim, gelir beklerdim seni saat beşte. (Bu tümceyi bir masalda okumuş olacağım: "Ölmemişlerse yaşıyorlardır daha!..") Bugün Viyana'mn bir planını gördüm... Ne demeye böylesine koca bir kent kurmuşlar sanki? Tek oda yetiyor sana, değil mi?! Yemek için yazdıklarını şimdi okudum, haklısın, ben de öyle yapmalıyım. Günün birinde önemli biri olursam yaparım da belki. Korkarak, titreyerek, tetikte, bütün tüylerim diken diken olmuş bir durumda okuyorum mektuplarını... Odamdaki ekmek kırıntılarını kapmaya gelen serçeye benziyorum.

The methods of meditation taught by the Buddha in the Pali Canon fall into two broad systems. One is the development of serenity (samatha), which aims at concentration (samādhi); the other is the development of insight (vipassanā), which aims at understanding or wisdom (paññā). In the Buddha’s system of mental training the role of serenity is subordinated to that of insight because the latter is the crucial instrument needed to uproot the ignorance at the bottom of saṁsāric bondage. The attainments possible through serenity meditation were known to Indian contemplatives long before the advent of the Buddha. The Buddha himself mastered the two highest stages under his early teachers but found that, on their own, they only led to higher planes of rebirth, not to genuine enlightenment (MN 26.15–16). However, because the unification of mind induced by the practice of concentration contributes to clear understanding, the Buddha incorporated the techniques of serenity meditation and the resulting levels of absorption into his own system, treating them as a foundation and preparation for insight and as a “pleasant abiding here and now.

Goeie god, wat zou't prettig zijn dit allemaal voor me te houden!... geen woord meer te zeggen, niks meer te schrijven, zodat ze me eindelijk eens met rust laten... en dan ergens aan de kust aan m'n eindje te komen... niet aan de Côte d'Azur! maar aan de echte zee, de Oceaan... ik zou met niemand meer praten, volkomen met rust gelaten, vergeten... o ja? en waar haal je dan je vreten vandaan, Janneman?... trompetgeschal en tromgeroffel!... de touwen in, ouwe clown! en als de bliksem! hoger!... nog hoger! kom op, waar blijf je! het publiek wil maar één ding van je: dat je goed op je bek valt!

Good friendship, in Buddhism, means considerably more than associating with people that one finds amenable and who share one's interests. It means in effect seeking out wise companions to whom one can look for guidance and instruction. The task of the noble friend is not only to provide companionship in the treading of the way. The truly wise and compassionate friend is one who, with understanding and sympathy of heart, is ready to criticize and admonish, to point out one's faults, to exhort and encourage, perceiving that the final end of such friendship is growth in the Dhamma. The Buddha succinctly expresses the proper response of a disciple to such a good friend in a verse of the Dhammapada: 'If one finds a person who points out one's faults and who reproves one, one should follow such a wise and sagacious counselor as one would a guide to hidden treasure' If we associate closely with those who are addicted to the pursuit of sense pleasures, power, riches and fame, we should not imagine that we will remain immune from those addictions: in time our own minds will gradually incline to these same ends. If we associate closely with those who, while not given up to moral recklessness, live their lives comfortably adjusted to mundane routines, we too will remain stuck in the ruts of the commonplace. If we aspire for the highest — for the peaks of transcendent wisdom and liberation — then we must enter into association with those who represent the highest. Even if we are not so fortunate as to find companions who have already scaled the heights, we can well count ourselves blessed if we cross paths with a few spiritual friends who share our ideals and who make earnest efforts to nurture the noble qualities of the Dhamma in their hearts. When we raise the question how to recognize good friends, how to distinguish good advisors from bad advisors, the Buddha offers us crystal-clear advice. In the Shorter Discourse on a Full-Moon Night (MN 110) he explains the difference between the companionship of the bad person and the companionship of the good person. The bad person chooses as friends and companions those who are without faith, whose conduct is marked by an absence of shame and moral dread, who have no knowledge of spiritual teachings, who are lazy and unmindful, and who are devoid of wisdom. As a consequence of choosing such bad friends as his advisors, the bad person plans and acts for his own harm, for the harm of others, and the harm of both, and he meets with sorrow and misery. In contrast, the Buddha continues, the good person chooses as friends and companions those who have faith, who exhibit a sense of shame and moral dread, who are learned in the Dhamma, energetic in cultivation of the mind, mindful, and possessed of wisdom. Resorting to such good friends, looking to them as mentors and guides, the good person pursues these same qualities as his own ideals and absorbs them into his character. Thus, while drawing ever closer to deliverance himself, he becomes in turn a beacon light for others. Such a one is able to offer those who still wander in the dark an inspiring model to emulate, and a wise friend to turn to for guidance and advice.

de kleine jongen was er nog steeds, nog steeds alleen. Hij sloeg met z'n vuisten op de gesloten deur zo hard als hij kon, huilde en snikte en sloeg en hamerde op de deur, opnieuw en opnieuw. Dat beeld van dat kind staat in m'n geheugen gegrift. Hij representeert de ontelbare miljoenen die een on vertelt verdriet lijden door de gebreken van volwassenen. Ze hameren op deuren die nooit zullen openen, klein uitschot in een onvriendelijke wereld: kinderen van oorlog, kinderen die zich anders weten door een handicap of ziekte, kinderen die wat voor vorm van geweld dan ook ondergaan, vluchtelingenkinderen overal

Dünyanın nasıl olması gerektiğim öğretmek iddiası üzerine bir söz daha söyleyelim: felsefe bu konuda daima geç kalır. Dünyanın düşüncesi olarak, felsefe, ancak realite oluşum sürecini işleyip bitirmiş olduğu zaman ortaya çıkar. Kavramın öğrettiğini, tarih aym zorunlulukla gösterir: ancak varlıkların olgunluk çağmdadır ki, ideal, reel'in karşısında boygösterir ve aym dünyayı cevheri içinde kavradıktan sonra, onu bir fikirler âlemi şeklinde yeniden inşa eder. Felsefenin soluk rengi (1) solgun zemine vurduğu zaman, hayatın bir tezahürü ihtiyarlık günlerini tamamlıyor demektir. Felsefenin soluk rengiyle, o gençleştirilemez, sadece bilinebilir. Minerva'mn baykuşu, ancak gün batarken uçmaya başlar.

I realize there's little we can do about the way you view our planet or how your conversation with your wife goes, but as the time for you to go back to your world comes near, we would like your last moments on Earth to serve as a bridge between our people." Mitchell had to give it to the just-out-of-college guy who'd written this First Contact speech. It did sound nice. He felt thoroughly stupid saying it,

What's out there, son? Do we have a chance?" Mitchell asked, forgetting the script. Logan had to know this was at the heart of their questions: who was out there, and how could they protect themselves against it? Logan's eyes went to the ceiling, recalling knowledge so far and vast it baffled the mind. "It's not a mirror of human societies, as you like to imagine. We witness and we record, but most species are in it for resources… You're too new to have much of value, so Earth… Look, Earth is in the Archives, has been for a while now. This thing, now, between us… this will speed up First Contact protocols. Some worlds like to keep tight records on who's coming to play, that sort of thing. One will pick this up, they'll make sure you go through the entire thing nice and easy." "The entire thing?" "It's done in stages… With small groups. First Contact as a whole takes anywhere between a few decades to a few centuries. You won't get giant ships sweeping into New York City, or a huge radio message. You'll get something discreet, from someone who will even look human. They do their homework right, and the Archives are very detailed. But you'll know it for what it is: an invitation." "To join the galactic counsel?" Mitchell said with a dry smile. Logan smiled the same way. "You'll see.

MN4, discovered late in 2004 and recently named Apophis, the Greek name for the Egyptian God Apep –the destroyer. At one point, the probability of Apophis striking the Earth on 13 April 2029 was thought to be as high as 1 in 37. Now, to everyone’s relief, those odds have increased to 1 in 8,000. Again, these may sound very long odds, but they are actually only 80 times greater than those offered during summer 2001 for England beating Germany 5–1 at football. A few years ago, scientists came up with an index –known as the Torino Scale –to measure the impact threat, and so far Apophis is the first object to register and sustain a value greater than zero. At present it scores a 1 on the scale –defined as ‘an event meriting careful monitoring’. The object is the focus of considerable attention as efforts continue to better constrain its orbit, and it is perfectly possible –as we find out more –that it could rise to 1 on the Torino Scale, becoming an ‘event meriting concern’. It is very unlikely, however, to go any higher, and let’s hope that many years elapse before we encounter the first category 10 event –defined as ‘a certain collision with global consequences’.

He over-analyzes everything. If I ever go to a movie with him, I never ask him what he thinks of it afterward. He never just likes or doesn’t like it. He dissects it and analyzes each scene and character until I’m sorry I asked. In fact, I’m sorry I went.” —Ginny, St. Paul, MN

He finds a way to blame my mother for whatever’s wrong. If I’m mad at him, it must be because of the attitudes I got from my mother. And if he’s done something wrong—however unlikely that may be—we’ve driven him to it, my mother and me. He thinks any sane man would go berserk, sooner or later, in our company.” —Trudy, St. Paul, MN

He never apologizes. After a fight, he makes ‘nice.’ Whatever I start to do, he jumps in and grabs it away from me. The dishes, the laundry, whatever. He keeps this up until he’s satisfied that I can’t possibly be mad at him anymore.” —Debbie, St. Paul, MN

We can’t discuss bodies. Can’t talk about anything physical. Not gas pains, not orgasms, not cramps, not sweat. Nothing. Sex, bodies, the grisly stuff that life is built from is just something ‘one’ doesn’t mention. So obviously, a lot goes unsaid.” —Judy, Minneapolis, MN

After we go anywhere, he analyzes who said what to whom and why. Facial expressions. Tone of voice. Timing. Body language. Positioning. Seating. Layer upon layer of meaning.” —Ginny, St. Paul, MN

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Nee, dat is het bootje van m'n grootmoeder!' blies Elm. 'En dat lappie daarbovenin is haar eigengebreide zwarte theedoek, nou goed? M'n grootmoeder breit altijd van die leuke theedoekjes met doodskoppen erop.

I was with two men that night, Mom! The baby could be either of theirs!

Weet je wat ik zo aantrekkelijk aan jou vind?' vroeg ik terwijl Jason in hemdsmouwen een kabeljauwschoteltje uit de oven op tafel zette. 'Nondedju,' zei Jason wat hij brandde zijn vingers. 'Dat je van die mooie mannenarmen hebt,' zei ik, 'm'n broers hebben ook van die armen, sterk met donker haar erop. Als we dan zaten te eten bij Locatelli was het net alsof alles nog als vroeger was, dat je niks kon overkomen, bedoel ik. Ja, ik vond dat nogal aangenaam.' 'Où sont mes petits copains d'antan,' zong Jason plotseling en toen ging het gesprek over de zee bij Newfoundland, waar eerst een bloeiende visserij had geheerst, maar hoe de kabeljauw in de baai steeds schaarser werd, hoe de staat en de milieubewegingen steeds dreigender geluiden lieten horen over overbevissing en quota, maar hoe de welvarende bevolking dacht vis is vis en hoe er toen op een dag geen kabelauw meer te bekennen was, niet één, in die enorme baai nergens meer een kabeljauw te bespeuren. De baai was leeggevist en alle pogingen die de overheid en de industrie in het werk stelden brachten de vis niet terug. De kabeljauw was weg en bleef weg, het was een dood stuk zee geworden. 'Geen vis meer,' somde Jason op, 'geen visolie meer, geen vislijm meer, geen boten meer, geen vissers meer, geen brood meer op de plank.

International Council on Biblical Inerrancy and as Explaining Inerrancy (1996) by Ligonier Ministries. Published by Reformation Trust Publishing a division of Ligonier Ministries 421 Ligonier Court, Sanford, FL 32771 Ligonier.org ReformationTrust.com Printed in North Mankato, MN Corporate Graphics February 2015 First edition, seventh printing All rights reserved. No part of

his breath smelling of turkey.

M" Mnemosyne’s silent M drives me to the dictionary Her baby sister makes an n run. Youth does not tarry Those diaphanous, luminescent water jellies, Mnemiopsis, small as sneezes, I can only conjure as Knee me up, Sis Spelling? Easier to recall these beauties as invasive carnivorous, cannibalistic, and hermaphroditic (They eat each other and fuck themselves) Mnemonic is a device that helps me remember birthdays and phone numbers of those I no longer love but can recall in traces Or how to sequence pi to a thousand places as Guinness names me a mnemonist. Or my own birthday because my mother died the day before Just a handful of words end in mn, and the soul they limn: autumn, solemn, damn, condemn, the a capella hymn But hundreds contain mn. A standout: that Jurassic cephalopod, belemnite, long gone, yet its name and phallic fossil live on And should those Siamnese twins stand at the head, they’re led by a vowel that takes m by the hand and leaves n to bed another syllable. Amnesia. You are what you forget Still, the mother of all muses has a name hard to set Mnemiopsis, mnemonist, mnemonic, Mnemosyne— such elegance I should be able to recall: these words all begin with silence Perhaps her name once began with A: Out one day, bathing carefree in the Aegean, she fell for a creature she could feel but not see— say, a tentacled jelly—got entangled with the beast, lost the A, Tore her chiton, and returned in disarray Zeus said, Where’s the A I gave you on the birth of Calliope? She, recalling his trysts, yet savoring her berth, wanted no scene Saw in backward glance, the gem wedged in coral’s gritty teeth A’s so plebeian. Words are rife. Alcmene, Europa, Hera, adultery Few can spell my name yet spell I cast when lives are spent I am the Titan Mnemosyne, Goddess of All Memory, and off she went leaving Zeus to rue her gift and curse Yet wise manager, was hers not the golden purse?

J.-M.-R. Tillard, Flesh of the Church, Flesh of Christ: At the Source of the Ecclesiology of Coninaunion, trans. Madeleine Beaumont (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical, 2000).

I could take him out and slide right up to his blonde bombshell of a girlfriend without so much as breaking a sweat. I could be good to her, as long as she loved me as much. We could have fun. She’d never miss him. That killing seems so easy scares me sometimes. Maybe it’s wired into my DNA. My uncle didn’t get where he is without hiding a few bodies.

Shit like that can change a person, especially a kid. I guess I got lucky; I turned out normal.

I can feel him staring at me, the beam of geek practically rubbing off on me. “I like to work in silence. I’m not a party person and like lights out by ten,” he mumbles. My face scrunches, and I look over to him. “Yeah, that shit isn’t going to work for me. You’re going to have to find another room.

-M.N. Kentucky

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Mn na LG rha h kahi b shayad mujhe tmse  ❤️  ishq  ho gya h @ Love you my Dream.

Ik denk dat m'n engelbewaarder vervangen is door een collega met meer verstand van zaken.

Ik heb het grootste deel van m'n leven in het onderwijs gezeten... ik was een bijzonder trage leerling.

Matt Frauenshuh joined his family’s Dairy Queen franchises in 2006 when the group comprised only seven stores across the country.

In the Ariyan Dhamma, the practice of meditation unfolds from start to finish as a process of mental purification. The process begins with the recognition of the dangers in unwholesome states: they are real pollutants of our being that need to be restrained and eliminated. The consummation is reached in the complete destruction of the defilements through the cultivation of their wholesome antidotes. The entire course of practice demands a recognition of the differences between the dark and bright qualities of the mind, and devolves on effort and diligence: "One does not tolerate an arisen unwholesome thought, one abandons it, dispels it, abolishes it, nullifies it" (MN 2). The hindrances are "causes of blindness, causes of ignorance, destructive to wisdom, not conducive to Nibbana" (SN 46:40). The practice of meditation purges the mind of its corruptions, preparing the way for the destruction of the cankers (asavakkhaya).

So many of the adults, in general, hated their lives and jobs and choices. And from a very young age, I knew I wouldn’t end up like any of them.

Our jobs were to educate, and those outside the classroom ensured we did that by evaluating our stats because nothing said dedicated educator quite as much as cold, hard data.

Ik heb gehoord dat oké in jouw taal te vertalen is naar "bedankt voor het redden van m'n leven en ik zal niemand, maar dan ook echt niemand vertellen dat ik er een heb ontmoet, want anders krijgt ze gezeik thuis". Dat klopt, toch?

Dus je kidnapt weer een maaltijdbezorger?' Weer? 'Voor de volgende aflevering vraag ik jou, oké? Wil je de eerste selkie zijn bij Thelxes' Tango's?' 'Ik word liever neergeknuppeld voor m'n bont.

ik denk dat ik van mn jetlag af ben wil je souvenirs uit osaka je hebt hier kennelijk walvishaaien maar die passen niet in de ruimbagage

Ai, is dat je briefrog?' 'Tapphie is mijn briefrog, ja.' De 'ai' alarmeerde hem. 'Laatst tijdens het jagen had m'n zus er een te pakken gekregen.' Koeltjes maakte hij de balans op. 'M'n levensmissie is mislukt, m'n beste vriend is van me afgepakt én m'n huisdier is doodgebeten door een selkie.' 'Niet dood,' corrigeerde Neeltje. 'Herstellende.

Paul’s description of Satan as the “prince” (archMn) “of the air” (tou aeros) or “prince of the power of the air” (Ephesians 2:2) is indicative of where this deception will originate.

In August 2008, physicists Jere Jenkins and Ephraim Fischbach, of Purdue University, burst on the scene with an incredible claim. Decay constants are not so constant! Through detailed analysis, they found that the decay rate of radioactive manganese-54 (54Mn) fluctuates in correlation with solar flares (Jenkins and Fischbach 2008). And that was not all. It was also found that the decay rates of radioactive silicon-32 (32Si) and radioactive radium-226 (226Ra) vary over time and that the variations correlate with the changing distance between the Earth and the Sun (Jenkins et al. 2008). When the Earth is closest to the Sun (in January), the decay rate increases; when the Earth is farthest from the Sun (in July), the decay rate decreases. These are incredible, absolutely astounding results with profound ramifications.

The Protestant teachings caused people to view their work as a way of proving their love to God so they tried to do their best and give the best quality to God by giving the best quality to man.

James Grenning, Elisabeth Hendrickson, Kenji Hiranabe, Greg Hutchings, Michael James, Clinton Keith, Joshua Kerievsky, Janne Kohvakka (and team), Venkatesh Krishnamurthy, Shiv Kumar MN, Kuroiwa-san, Diana Larsen, Timo Leppänen, Eric Lindley, Steven Mak, Shiva-kumar Manjunathaswamy, Brian Marick, Bob Martin, Gregory Melnik, Emerson Mills, John Nolan, Roman Pichler, Mary Poppendieck, Tom Poppendieck, Jukka Savela, Ken Schwaber, Annapoorani Shanmugam, James Shore, Maarten Smeets, Jeff Sutherland, Dave Thomas, Ville Valtonen, and Xu Yi.

Wat de spelling aangaat, even als in m'n andere werken volg ik nagenoeg de mode van den dag. "Niet, zooals ik zeide in 't Voorbericht by den vyfden druk myner Ideen, omdat ik den minsten eerbied voel voor de taalkennis der personen die heden-ten-dage zoo goed als officieel belast schynen met de bearbeiding van dat veld, doch om niet het oog des lezers aftestooten door vreemdheid van spelling. De soep zou de kool niet waard zyn." Zeker, wezenlyke taalkunde is heel wat anders! Toch heb ik ook hier de leelyke i-j die door sommigen als y-klank gebruikt wordt, voor goed congé gegeven. Tant pis voor de Hilaridessen die er om treuren. Dezelfde soort van lettermannen zullen waarschynlyk geen vrede hebben met m'n interpunktie. Ik met de hunne niet. Welnu, evenals—ik meen—Hildebrand ergens, geef ik hun een paar mud komma's ten-geschenke, om die te plaatsen waar ze goedvinden, tot er de verlangde slymerigheid en hun voldoening op volgt, amen.

Paw, paw, paw. On his shirt. “Fucking hell.” He gave in and rubbed that black belly. “And no, I don’t need anything.” The purring got so loud, he had to lean in to the butler. “What did you say?” “I’m happy to oblige whatever you require.” “Yeah. I know. But I’m going to take care of my brother. No one else. Are we clear.” The cat was now rubbing its head into his pec. Then stretching up into the itching. Oh, God, this was awful—especially as the butler’s already droopy face sagged down to what were no doubt knobby knees. “Ah, shit, Fritz—” “Is he ill?” iAm closed his eyes briefly as the female voice registered. Fantastic. Another party heard from. “He’s fine,” iAm said without looking at the Chosen Selena. Leaving the kibitzers in the dust, he went into the pantry with the freeloading cat and . . . Right. How was he going to get the load of post-migraine recovery rations down from the shelves with his arms full of— What was its name? Fine. It was G*dd*mn Cat, then. Looking down into those wide, contented eyes, iAm thinned his lips as he rubbed under its chin. Behind an ear. “Okay, enough with this.” He played with one of the paws. “I gotta put you down now.” Assuming control, he took the cat out of its recline and went to put it down on the— Somehow the thing managed to claw its way into the very fibers of his fleece and hang off the front of him like a tie. “Are you kidding me.” More purring. A blink of those luminous eyes. An expression of self-possession that iAm took to mean this interaction was going to go the cat’s way—and no one else’s. “Mayhap I shall help?” Selena asked softly. iAm bit out a curse and glared at the cat. Then at the Chosen. But short of taking off his pullover? G*dd*mn Cat was sticking with him. “I need some of those Milanos up there?” The Chosen reached up and took a bag from the Pepperidge Farm munchie department. “And he’s going to need some of those tortilla chips.” “Plain or the lime flavor?” “Plain.” iAm gave up the ghost and resumed servicing G*dd*mn—and the cat immediately went into full La-Z-Boy again. “He’s going to want one of the Entenmann’s pound cakes. And we’re going to bring him three ice-cold Cokes, two big Poland Springs, room temperature, and a partridge in a pear tree.” -Boo, iAm, Fritz, & Selena

• Launched Real Time Talent, one of the most innovative workforce development initiatives in the country. It links the curriculum and training for more than four hundred thousand postsecondary students with the skill requirements of employers in the state (RealTimeTalentMN.org). • Created the Business Bridge, which facilitates connections between the procurement functions of large corporations and smaller potential suppliers located in the region. As a result of this effort, participating businesses added more than $1 billion to their spending with local businesses in two years—a year ahead of their goal. • Helped to build the case for investing more aggressively in higher education. By strengthening relationships between business and higher education leaders, and using a fact-based set of findings to justify investing more than an incremental amount, a coalition organized by Itasca helped increase spending in the state by more than $250 million annually. That’s not bad for a group of people with no budget, no office, no charter, virtually no Internet presence, virtually no staff—but a huge abundance of trust.

Booking Pricing: Q & A, Book Signing, or Meet & Greet. Half Day (1 or 2 presentations) $400 Full Day (Up to 4 presentations) $800 Out of state $950 per day plus travel expenses (flight + hotel)." School & Library Local: Within 50 miles of Frazee Detroit Lakes MN, 1 hour visits are $50.00. 50 miles or more outside of FRazee Mn 1 hour visits are $75.00." Prices may very on event or location. Person or place hosting event pervides book's for signing and water to drink.

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If I have any common sense, I will stay away from him.

Don't fear the pain, fear the message behind it.

Chanelle was unabashedly proud of her open relationship and the many facets she explored with and without her husband. The pieces of themselves they’d learned over a decade of love lingered in each breath she took. I was already confused enough about my relationship; I didn’t need to spend the night locked in memories of Chanelle’s very adventurous marriage. There were more than a few questions I had about her relationship, but after that colorful snippet, I didn’t want answers. Chanelle was as free with her words as her thoughts. It was quite liberating to observe yet irritating to endure.

Death is certain. Life is not,

Carter shouldn’t have to stress about a birth name that belonged to a person he never was.

The only thing worse than unnecessary professional learning was unwanted team-building exercises.

I smile lightly as they all head into the club, acting as if nothing savage just happened. It's crazy when you think about it. The hurdle of life's abandonment scarring us, we wake up every day in the hope of redemption, that today will be better, but it's a lie. In reality, you have to swim to survive, even if it means drowning the innocent to goet to the shore of hope.

I’m never awake at this hour. I hate the sun, and I hate people.

A mn is created in the image of his God, for His glory.

Kieran is the fucking devil in a suit, he doesn’t function like a normal human being or even someone who might have a mental illness. Kieran DeAngelo is his own species of man.

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