Nexus Book Quotes

way I dealt with that great classic of modern adventure, Kon-Tiki Months later, watching this book remain first on the best-seller list for unbelievable week after week, I was able to rationalize my blindness by saying to myself that if McGraw-Hill had paid me more than ninety cents an hour I might have been more sensitive to the nexus between good books and filthy lucre.

Our tendency to summon powers we cannot control stems not from individual psychology but from the unique way our species cooperates in large numbers. The main argument of this book is that humankind gains enormous power by building large networks of cooperation, but the way these networks are built predisposes us to use that power unwisely. Our problem, then, is a network problem.

Homo Deus, a book that highlighted some of the dangers posed to humanity by the new information technologies. That book argued that the real hero of history has always been information, rather than Homo sapiens, and that scientists increasingly understand not just history but also biology, politics, and economics in terms of information flows.

Save perhaps for the inventing and scriptwriting of Armitage, for the comics publication Judge Dredd the Megazine, in which he delineated and developed the city of London in that futuristic and somewhat casually violent shared world. And possibly his novels in the Judge Dredd line from Virgin Books, being Deathmasques, The Medusa Seed and Wetworks. And possibly any amount of other comics-related material to boot. And his work for Virgin Books’ New Adventure and Missing Adventure lines, come to think of it, including Sky Pirates!, Death and Diplomacy, Burning Heart, and for their continuation (starring one-time companion Bernice Summerfield), Ship of Fools, Oblivion, The Mary-Sue Extrusion and Return to the Fractured Planet. Each and every one a fine and puissant piece of literature, so all in all it is a bit unfortunate that at least half of them are no longer in print. For the BBC he has written the novel Heart of TARDIS, the short story Moon Graffiti, subsequently released as one half of a BBC Radio Collection audio disc, and the very volume you currently hold, quite lovingly, in your hands. His work on Bernice, incidentally, continues more-or-less simultaneously with the release of the Big Finish novel The Infernal Nexus. Mr.

The title of our book was the name of a series of magazines published by the Haqqanis in the 1980s and 1990s, as well as a media “studio” that has been producing and distributing Haqqani propaganda videos in more recent years. It is, in other words, the Haqqanis’ brand.

Reading is a discontinuous and fragmentary operation. Or rather, the object of reading is punctiform and pulviscular material. In the spreading expanse of the writing, the reader’s attention isolates some minimal segments, juxtapositions of words, metaphors, syntactic nexuses, logical passages, lexical peculiarities that prove to possess an extremely concentrated density of meaning. They are like elemental particles making up the work’s nucleus, around which all the rest revolves or else like the void at the bottom of a vortex which sucks in and swallows currents. It is through these apertures that, in barely perceptible flashes, the truth the book may bear is revealed, its ultimate substance. Myth and mysteries consist of impalpable little granules like the pollen that sticks to a butterfly’s legs, only those who have realized this can expect revelations and illuminations. This is why my attention, in contrast to what you, sir, were saying, cannot be detached from the written lines even for an instant. I must not be distracted if I do not wish to miss some valuable clue. Every time I come upon one of these clumps of meaning I must go on digging around to see if the nugget extends into a vein. This is why my reading has no end. I read and reread, each time seeking the confirmation of a new discovery among the folds of the sentences.

SIRISYS is an acronym meaning Semantic Instance Relativity Interface System. His Sirisys platform was engineered to be the "Single Communication Access Port" for individuals to interact with their own "Nexus of Existence." Call her a type of Cybernetic Commutational Array. Her architecture path was to start small, then age into a personalized platform interface symbiot.

He smiled. "This is all going into your book, isn't it?" "I was not even thinking about my book," I said defensively--- I was only half lying. With my encyclopaedia complete, I have, as Wendell knows, turned my attention to another large project--- creating a mapbook of all the known faerie realms, as well as their doors. Such a book will be a patchwork thing, unavoidably so--- faerie realms are often attached to specific geographical locations in the mortal world, though only a few have been explored in a meaningful way--- but I wish to use it to argue Danielle de Grey's point: that the realms are more interconnected than previous scholarship has suggested. Finding evidence of the nexus would be the linchpin of the entire project.

what he saw was a time nexus within this cave, a boiling of possibilities focused here, wherein the most minute action—the wink of an eye, a careless word, a misplaced grain of sand—moved a gigantic lever across the known universe.

Like money or government or ethnicity, the “self” is also an arbitrary mental construct based on faith. There is no proof that your experience of “you” actually exists. It is merely the nexus of conscious experience, an interconnection of sense and sensibility. See Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1984), pp. 199–280.

Another common but mistaken assumption is that creativity is unique to humans so it would be difficult to automate any job that requires creativity. In chess, however, computers are already far more creative than humans. The same may become true of many other fields, from composing music to proving mathematical theorems to writing books like this one. Creativity is often defined as the ability to recognize patterns and then break them. If so, then in many fields computers are likely to become more creative than us, because they excel at pattern recognition.

For the people who think they aren’t enough and hide from the world. Don’t let the monster in your mind win.

She is my trouble. Mine.” I turn my head back to see Onyx waiting in the door of the tent, light pouring around him. His eyes are like black fire, and tension radiates off every inch of him. He snarls at me. “Don’t you dare do it, Gwen!” I wink right as I press my hand straight onto the page.

Haunted castle? Fuck no.

It should be emphasized that rejecting the naive view of information as representation does not force us to reject the notion of truth, nor does it force us to embrace the populist view of information as a weapon. While information always connects, some types of information—from scientific books to political speeches—may strive to connect people by accurately representing certain aspects of reality. But this requires a special effort, which most information does not make. This is why the naive view is wrong to believe that creating more powerful information technology will necessarily result in a more truthful understanding of the world. If no additional steps are taken to tilt the balance in favor of truth, an increase in the amount and speed of information is likely to swamp the relatively rare and expensive truthful accounts by much more common and cheap types of information.

Scientific culture has no comparable holy book, nor does it claim that any of its heroes are infallible prophets, saints, or geniuses.

It’s a nexus—many connections binding many things.

Why are you thinking about the common man? Bankson asked me the second night. What does he have to do with the nexus of thought & change? He turns his nose up at democracy. When I tried to explain that my grandmother was my imagined audience for Children of the KK, I think he was embarrassed for me. These conversations with B keep coming back. Perhaps because Fen doesn’t enjoy talking about work with me anymore. I feel him withholding, as if he thinks I’ll use his ideas in my next book if he says them out loud.

I think it was Ben Franklin who said, 'Inspiration is 45% peyote, 45% fever dream, and then 35% neurosyphillis;

Do you have any idea how much dumber our species has gotten since we invented the computer? Well neither do I- I'd have to look it up with a computer.

In Russia, the person who put Sevastopol on the literary map was Leo Tolstoy, a veteran of the siege. His fictionalized memoir The Sebastopol Sketches made him a national celebrity. Already with the first installment of the work published, Tsar Alexander II saw the propaganda value of the piece and ordered it translated into French for dissemination abroad. That made the young author very happy. Compared with Tolstoy’s later novels, The Sebastopol Sketches hasn’t aged well, possibly because this is not a heartfelt book. As the twenty-six-year-old Tolstoy’s Sevastopol diaries reveal, not heartache but ambition drove him at the time. Making a name as an author was just an alternative to two other grand plans—founding a new religion and creating a mathematical model for winning in cards (his losses during the siege were massive even for a rich person).

(P)assages of those books I once wrote in my head came back, like the curled edges of a dream which refuse to flatten out. They would always be flapping there, those curled edges... flapping from the cornices of those dingy shit-brown shanties, those slat-faced saloons, those foul rescue and shelter places where the bleary-eyed, codfish-faced bums hung about like lazy flies, and O God, how miserable they looked, how wasted, how blenched, how withered and hollowed out!

Bridge to everything! Highway to everything! Your omnivorous soul, Your soul that’s bird, fish, beast, man, woman, Your soul that’s two where two exist, Your soul that’s one becoming two when two are one, Your soul that’s arrow, lightning, space, Amplex, nexus, sex and Texas, Carolina and New York, Brooklyn Ferry in the twilight, Brooklyn Ferry going back and forth, Libertad! Democracy! The Twentieth Century about to dawn! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Codex of Seeds Serpent_120 Dragon woke up. He did his daily routine, and went out into the city. The quickly growing city of GemFall was where this assassin lived. Of course, no one knew he was an assassin. Except for, ya know, the city's sworn enemies, and his partner in crime, Cyber. Their mission was to just get to know the civilians, maybe make some friends, and maybe just, sneak their way up through the military ranks, and maybe detonate all of the city's explosives so they could steal a high-tech blueprint? But that’s just a maybe of course. He met up with Cyber where every highly trained assassin goes to meet up. It was discreet. It was luxurious. It was MCDONALDS. No, seriously. Surly no one would suspect a person at McDonalds. Dragon quickly took a seat and waited for Cyber to arrive. After a while, Cyber arrived. "Wonderful news," Cyber said "You talk like a child, not a professional." "Wow, going after the way I talk now, that’s so mature. Either way, while you were up there lazing in your high-rise apartment, I have been doing work, and now, I have control over the shed." "Wonderful, so now I will be doing the actual important work and completing this mission," said Dragon Cyber sneered at him, gave him the shed pass, and they left. Dragon walked over to the military district in the city. He found the shed, and was about to walk in the door, when he was stopped. "Heya chump, you don't look like Commander Cyber. You can't go in there." A guard stopped him. "Oh really, I seem to have the shed pass, giving me authorization to come in there. If you refuse my entry, that would put your job in jeopardy, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" Dragon liked to be as condescending as possible. He liked when people hated him. He strolled in, grabbed a couple explosives, and headed back out. Then he began he trek towards the vault. It was very uneventful. Then, he got to the vault. He began planting explosives around, in strategic locations. He, well, obviously, then ran away. And waited. \ / - BOOM - / \ Dragon smiled. He saw the small, scorched piece of paper on the ground. He smiled. He snuck over and picked it up. He then felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hello good friend," Cyber said as he plucked the paper out of Dragon's hand. "I believe this belongs to me now." Cyber smirked. He waltzed away as Dragon stared in shock as the military surrounded him, and took him away... It was a long trek from GemFall to the DarkStalk's secret base. But Cyber could handle it. He was happy knowing that his annoying little "teammate" was locked up somewhere far away. Somewhere where he could never tell Cyber's superiors what happened. The real truth of what happened that afternoon... EGamer7201 As I looked upon the enemy that towered above me, I took a step back. This was the worst enemy I had ever seen, and to be honest, I was scared. I took my Nexus Orbs, 3 of them, and got ready to fight. I put the orbs that I had protected with my life on my belt. I took out my glowing blade, with the mystical rune, quintuple darkness stab. This enemy was called Ending. It had Glowing red eyes, and was pure black, and had white spots. I looked at it, scanned it, and the stats were: HP: 13000001 AP (Attack points) : 9999 DP (Defense points) :2000000 Few, this is gonna be hard. I screamed, "FOR THE NEXUS!!!" and teleported toward Ending. TO BE CONTINUED... (Hopefully!) Q & A Blox Is the series almost over?

Master Nexus

Reason, when understood ontologically, takes on an entirely different meaning from the one conventionally assigned to it. It takes on the extra “dimensions” of emotion, perception, intuition, desire and will. All of these are involved in the intricate nexus for providing sufficient reasons for actions. People who don’t understand our work keep reducing reason to one dimension, which means that our central point that reason is ontological and explains everything – including love, human error, insanity, and everything else that, according to the conventional treatment of reason, has nothing to do with reason – has completely escaped them. Reason, in our system, is both syntactic (structural) and semantic (meaningful). Its semantic aspect is what gives it the capacity to generate all the weird and wonderful things that average people do not associate with reason. They regard reason in strictly syntactic, machinelike terms. That is only one aspect of reason. It has many others.

Here I abruptly took leave of him. He was still standing with hand outstretched, as if immobilized, when I got to the other side of the street. I gave him one parting glance and spat out a gob of juicy disgust. «You prick!» I said to myself. «Yon and your fucking Comforter! For a pair of heartless shits I’ve never seen the like of you. Pray? You bet I’ll pray. I’ll pray that you have to crawl on hands and knees to scratch for a penny. I’ll pray that your wrists and knees give out, that you have to crawl on your belly, that your eyes will become bleary, and filled with scum.» The house was dark when I got back. No Mona. I sank into the big chair and gave myself up to moody reflections. In the soft light of my table lamp the room looked better than ever. Even the table, which was in a state of huge disorder, affected me pleasantly. It was obvious that there had been a long interruption. Manuscripts were lying about everywhere, books lay open at the pages where I had left off reading. The dictionary too was lying open on top of the book-case. As I sat there ‘I realized that the room was impregnated with my spirit. I belonged here, nowhere else. It was foolish of

An Echo in the Bone (novel)—Set in America, London, Canada, and Scotland, this is the seventh novel of the main series. The book’s cover image reflects the internal shape of the novel: a caltrop. That’s an ancient military weapon that looks like a child’s jack with sharp points; the Romans used them to deter elephants, and the highway patrol still uses them to stop fleeing perps in cars. This book has four major story lines: Jamie and Claire; Roger and Brianna (and family); Lord John and William; and Young Ian, all intersecting in the nexus of the American Revolution—and all the stories have sharp points. (1776–1778/1980

Not all who visit the Lester Sunshine Inn are aware of its rich history and contributions to our society. It may seem odd to you that such an ordinary point on the map could have had such a profound impact on what we all now take for granted. If we look closely at this nexus in time and location, we can see a series of collisions of both people and ideas combining to create the underlying code of our current existence.” – Marto Boxter, The Wakeful Wanderer’s Guide, Vol. 6, line 3

My monster is a living form of feminine rage,

It tastes like a Barbie house threw up in it, but seeing you want a pink car, it is not that surprising.” “Boba tea is a life choice for me, so shush.

He is pretty for a nightmare.

I know you’re hiding something big and that you are worth waiting for. I knew from the second I saw you again, you are worth everything. Push me away all you like. I’m going to be waiting until the day you trust me and tell me all the terrible things you think make you not worth it and I tell you I still want you, regardless.