Nil Quotes

This world is your best teacher. There is a lesson in everything. There is a lesson in each experience. Learn it and become wise. Every failure is a stepping stone to success. Every difficulty or disappointment is a trial of your faith. Every unpleasant incident or temptation is a test of your inner strength. Therefore nil desperandum. March forward hero!

Dr. Watson's summary list of Sherlock Holmes's strengths and weaknesses: "1. Knowledge of Literature: Nil. 2. Knowledge of Philosophy: Nil. 3. Knowledge of Astronomy: Nil. 4. Knowledge of Politics: Feeble. 5. Knowledge of Botany: Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening. 6. Knowledge of Geology: Practical but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them. 7. Knowledge of Chemistry: Profound. 8. Knowledge of Anatomy: Accurate but unsystematic. 9. Knowledge of Sensational Literature: Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century. 10. Plays the violin well. 11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman. 12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

Nil desperandum, -- Never Despair. That is a motto for you and me. All are not dead; and where there is a spark of patriotic fire, we will rekindle it.

Gay Sex Three, Straight Sex Nil

The sense of responsibility in the financial community for the community as a whole is not small. It is nearly nil.

There was a roar of delight from the forward bench, and then the bearlike figure of Nils Ropehander came lumbering down the deck, bellowing congratulations. "What's that? The General? Engaged? Well General, here's my hand in congratulations!" The expression here's my hand turned out to be a loose one. Nils scooped Horace up in a massive bear hug of delight. The hug, unlike the expression, was not a loose one. When he released Horace, the young groom-to-be crumpled, moaning breathlessly, to the deck.

Illegitimis nil carborundum.

Nil magnum nisi bonum. No greatness without goodness.

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar. Man the sum of his climatic experiences Father said. Man the sum of what have you. A problem in impure properties carried tediously to an unvarying nil: stalemate of dust and desire.

Homo sum: humani nil a me alienum puto. I am human: nothing human is alien to me.

Noughts... Even the word was negative. Nothing. Nil. Zero. Nonentities. It wasn't a name we'd chosen for ourselves. It was a name we'd been given.

أن تخشى العطش في الوقت الذي تكون فيه بئرك عامرة ، أليس هذا عطشاً لا يمكن ريه أبداً ؟

Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak.... They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account.

أن ننسى الأشخاص الذين احببناهم ، معناه يا ولدي أن نجعلهم يموتون للمرة الثانية

Nothing is stronger than Custom (Fac tibi consuescat: nil adsuetudine maius)

Astronomy is what we have now instead of theology. The terrors are less, but the comforts are nil’.

Apart from a thin film of life at the very surface of the Earth, an occasional intrepid spacecraft, and some radio static, our impact on the Universe is nil. It knows nothing of us.

THE ONE WHO STAYED You should have heard the old men cry, You should have heard the biddies When that sad stranger raised his flute And piped away the kiddies. Katy, Tommy, Meg and Bob Followed, skipped gaily, Red-haired Ruth, my brother Rob, And little crippled Bailey, John and Nils and Cousin Claire, Dancin', spinnin', turnin', 'Cross the hills to God knows where- They never came returnin'. 'Cross the hills to God knows where The piper pranced, a leadin' Each child in Hamlin Town but me, And I stayed home unheedin'. My papa says that I was blest For if that music found me, I'd be witch-cast like all the rest. This town grows old around me. I cannot say I did not hear That sound so haunting hollow- I heard, I heard, I heard it clear... I was afraid to follow.

What’s life? A frenzied, blurry haze. What’s life? Not anything it seems. A shadow. Fiction filling reams. All we possess on earth means nil, For life’s a dream, think what you will, And even all our dreams are dreams.

من اللحظة التي لا تعود لنا فيها جدوى ، نصبح من قبيل الموتى

A promise means nothing...It's a statement of present want, not future reality.

Kerouac lacks discipline, intelligence, honesty and a sense of the novel. His rhythms are erratic, his sense of character is nil, and he is as pretentious as a rich whore, sentimental as a lollypop.

Among all the occurrences possible in the universe the a priori probability of any particular one of them verges upon zero. Yet the universe exists; particular events must take place in it, the probability of which (before the event) was infinitesimal. At the present time we have no legitimate grounds for either asserting or denying that life got off to but a single start on earth, and that, as a consequence, before it appeared its chances of occurring were next to nil. ... Destiny is written concurrently with the event, not prior to it... The universe was not pregnant with life nor the biosphere with man. Our number came up in the Monte Carlo game. Is it surprising that, like the person who has just made a million at the casino, we should feel strange and a little unreal?

Isn't it perfectly possible that Nils and his wife are too depressed to have kids? The prospect of having kids depresses the shit out of me, and I'm neither suicidal nor Norwegian!

Qui jacet in terra non habet unde cadat. In me consumpsit vires fortuna nocendo, Nil superest ut iam possit obesse magis." (loosely translated: "He who lies on the ground can fall no farther. In me, Fortune has exhausted her power of hurting; nothing remains that can harm me anymore.")

I would like to die as I have lived disappear among the tundra winds be transformed into birdsong

This is Nils," I said. "He keeps me out of trouble. Or gets in it with me." Nils bowed and gave Dennaleia his most charming smile - the one that turned most women's brains to mush. "Nice to meet you," she said, and then turned back toward Cas's window, her gaze jumping between it and a piece of paper in her hand. I nearly laughed outright at the confusion on Nils's face. He wasn't used to women finding other things more interesting than him.

Copilăria [este] cadoul pe care ni-l dă viaţa pentru ce vom avea de îndurat.

I leave to arrive, go away to be closer.

Alles war so überaus traurig, dass er beschloss, sich auf sein Bett zu legen und ein wenig darüber nachzudenken, wie traurig es eigentlich war.

Nil Sine Magno Labore ("Nothing without great effort") --Motto of Brooklyn College

Nil mortalibus ardui est

Iam nil officiunt mihi nec ipsae nocturnae tenebrae: teneo te, meum lumen.

nil.

in the heart’s rain in the eye’s fog in the winter’s smoky snow in whirling snow in storms wind which wants to tear my coat off legends stories the blood red dawn of the mind the warm spring between your thighs the only haven

A fourteen-year-old lad crouching with his bazooka behind a ruined wall on a burned out street is worth more to the nation than ten intellectuals who attempt to prove that our chances now are nil.

Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account.

السعادة الفاترة تثير من الغيظ أكثر مما يثيره الشقاء

March had a routine for reading the paper. He started at the back, with the truth. If Leipzig was said to have beaten Cologne four-nil at football, the chances were it was true: even the Party had yet to devise a means of rewriting the sports results. The sports news was a different matter. COUNTDOWN

Are we fallen angels who didn't want to believe that nothing is nothing and so were born to lose our loved ones and dear friends one by one and finally our own life, to see it proved?...But cold morning would return, with clouds billowing out of Lightning Gorge like giant smoke, the lake below still cerulean neutral, and empty space the same as ever. O gnashing teeth of earth, where would it all lead to but to prove that the proving itself was nil...

Koerver reports another example of delusional thinking within the German navy. Adm. Edouard von Capelle said, on Feb. 1, 1917, “From a military point of view I rate the effect of America coming on the side of our enemies as nil.” Tuchman, Zimmermann Telegram, 139; Koerver, German Submarine Warfare, xxxiii.

Ente tahu enggak, sungai Nil ane yang gali', kata si Mesir 'Ente juga tidak tahu. Laut merah ane yang sepuh', kata si Arab 'Ya, tapi lu juga nggak tahu, laut mati gue yang bunuh', kata Israel Lelucon-lelucon yang membuat dunia tetap segar.

You die." Thad's voice was heavy; the fire was gone. "It's like everyone has a personal window of time that the gateway to Nil stays open for them. It's always one year. Exactly three hundred sixty-five days. If you miss that window, you're done.

No,” Oort said simply. He took off his glasses (Ultraviolet didn’t wear glasses, but it appeared that Englishblokeman did) and cleaned them on the hem of his blazer, shaking his head briskly. “Nope. Incorrect. Bzzzzt. Try again. Not you, not here, not now. I refuse. I disagree. Unsubscribe. Survey says: absolutely not. I 100 percent reject this, and I would like to speak to a supervisor about exchanging the entire situation for something in better condition. This is shit, I won’t be a part of it, you can’t make me. Nil points.

Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil. They give us, now and then, some of those luxurious sterile emotions that have a certain charm for the weak. That is all that can be said for them. They are simply cheques that men draw on a bank where they have no account.

Of course I'd hallucinate a zebra. Why couldn't I dream up Robert Pattinson or, better yet, a river of Gatorade?

Nil magnum nisi bonum. Tak ada kemuliaan tanpa kebajikan.

Nil Sine Magno Labore ("Nothing without great effort")

Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil.

Nil illegitimi non carborundum.

The system was elementary, as you can see. Naturally these "lotteries" failed. Their moral virtue was nil. They were not directed at all of man's faculties, but only at hope.

nil sine magno vita labore dedit mortalibus

Concordo com o senhor até certo ponto, Nil Feoktístovitch. Mas Tolstói diz que quanto mais o homem se entrega à beleza, mais se afasta do bem. — E o senhor pensa o contrário? Que a beleza salvará o mundo? Acredita em mistérios e coisas semelhantes, em Rózanov e Dostoiévski?

We can afford the workers’ compensation, Harry—he’ll watch what he says the time next, won’t he?” Nils would say. “The ‘next time,’ Nils,” Grandpa Harry would gently correct his old friend.

Skyler often thought that the Seneca quotation Poe included was a dig at Dupin-or perhaps Poe himself: Nil sapientiae odiosius acumine nimio. "Nothing is more hateful to wisdom than excessive cleverness." "That's for sure," said Skyler aloud. "Or more succintly put, 'No one likes a smart ass'.

Sesungguhnya cinta, seni dan imaginasi bukanlah kerjaya orang kaya. Orang kaya mengubah cinta menjadi wang, mengubah seni menjadi wang, mengubah imaginasi menjadi wang. Orang kaya hanya menikmati satu kerjaya sahaja iaitu: menjadi orang kaya. Cinta, seni dan imaginasi ialah kerjaya orang miskin!

Iamque opus exegi, quod nec Iovis ira nec ignes nec poterint ferrum nec edax abolere vetustas. cum volet, illa dies, quae nil nisi corporis huius ius habet, incerti spatium mihi finiat aevi: parte tamen meliore mei super alta perennis astra ferar, nomenque erit indelibile nostrum, quaque patet domitis Romana potentia terris, ore legar populi, perque omnia saecula fama, siquid haben veri vatum praesagia, vivam.

You should have heard the old men cry You should have heard the biddies When that sad stranger rasied his flute And piped away the kiddies. Katy, Tommy, Meg, and Bob Followed skipping gailey Red-haired Ruth, my brother Ron, And little crippled Bailey Jon and Nils and Cousin Claire Dancin', spinnin', turnin' 'Cross the hills to god knows where- They never came returnin'. 'Cross the hills to god know where The piper pranced a leadin'. Each child in Hamlin town but me And I stayed home unheedin'. My papa says that I was blest For if that music fond me I'd be witch-cast like all the rest. This town grows old around me. I cannot say I did not hear That sound so hauntin' hollow. I heard, I heard, I heard it clear... I was afraid to follow.

Luck is personal; we all have our own. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad, but it's yours, and it follows you wherever you go...And luck can change, because as my nana always insisted, luck was a state of mind.

I could not endure life without work. All my life, as long as I can remember, I have worked, and it has been my greatest and only pleasure. But now I am quite alone in the world--my life is so dreadfully empty and I feel so forsaken. There is not the least pleasure in working for one's self. Nils, give me someone and something to work for.

You should have been a jester instead of a knight. (Sin) True, but jesters don’t get to carry a sword. Personally, I like my sword. You know, the whole knight images really makes the ladies lust for me. Not that any have lusted for me recently, since I have only been in the company of married women, but one is ever hopeful…Oh, wait, I’m in Scotland, where they hate us English. Damn, my chances with the women have just fallen to nil. Wasn’t there a monastery a few leagues back? Mayhap I should go take my vows and just save myself the embarrassment of being sneered at. (Simon)

Love is like pi (л) - natural, irrational, and very important.

Suami tidak sahaja memerlukan kecantikan yang memikat mata, juga memerlukan kecantikan yang memikat akal, hati dan hidupnya!

Assim manda a justiça - a inteligência e a sabedoria foram e são ainda hoje as qualidades que transformam o mendigo em príncipe.

He found forty, of which he only really liked two: "rose rot" and "to err so." See inbred girl; lie breeds grin; leering debris; greed be nil, sir; be idle re. rings; ringside rebel; residing rebel; etc. That's true. Much of the meter in Don Juan only works if you read Juan as syllabic." Spanish. Italian. German. French and English. Russian. Greek. Latin. Arabic.

Motherfucking Christ,” Gerry said to me on that Christmas Day, 1960. “Isn’t it perfectly possible that Nils and his wife are too depressed to have kids? The prospect of having kids depresses the shit out of me, and I’m neither suicidal nor Norwegian!

The offender must be able to give something back. But criminals are most often poor people. They have nothing to give. The answers to this are many. It is correct that our prisons are by and large filled with poor people. We let the poor pay with the only commodity that is close to being equally distributed in society: time.

Când n-ai măsură în nimic, te măsori cu Dumnezeu. Orice exces ni-l apropie. Căci El nu-i decât incapacitatea noastră de a ne opri undeva. Tot ce n-are margine - iubirea, furia, nebunia, ura - e de esență religioasă.

He had an invisible sword. Really? He walked through the lobby, got into a full elevator, and no one stared. He passed a cleaning lady in the hallway outside his room, and all she said was,"Hello there." He had an invisible sword. Really.

In a democracy, of course, you always get a choice: Do you want to be governed by the red or by the blue? It's entirely up to you. Do you want to be patronized or condescended to by liars or by crooks? You get to choose. Would you prefer your fundamental values to be insulted or ignored by con men or by charlatans? In short, do you want your influence to be zero or nil? And when would you like to be listened to, never or not at all? It's your choice. Do you want some more choice? Take it or leave it. Now there's a real choice.

când am ieșit din bloc pentru a pleca la Național și mi-am auzit tocurile pe caldarâm, mi-am dat seama de adevărata putere a unei femei și asta fără să citesc cărți despre legile puterii. Mi-am dat seama că suntem toate capabile de a atinge orice ideal pe care ni-l propunem, fără să fim nevoite să depindem de alte persoane, așa cum am fost obișnuite să credem. Căpătasem doar din simplul sunet al tocurilor, o stimă de sine și o încredere precisă.

Cinta yang melindungi kita itulah yang hidup dalam dada kita. Bukan cinta yang hidup dalam dada orang lain!

quanto mais coisas vos entrarem na cabeça, tanto mais espaço fica para outras.

I'm supposed to feel like it’s such a great apartment, but I don’t. It’s the right price, there are no bugs and it’s got a great view, but it’s the lair of Satan...

It is already long ago so long ago How do I know that you are not an illusion of the senses an invention of though

Everything is so beautiful I am afraid to wake up again to the hard world

How about the one who searches so urgently he does not see anything else

If I met myself after a few years would I recognize myself And these thoughts what quarrels between them

Church History is the record of God's gracious, wonderful and mighty deeds, showing how by his Spirit and Word he rules his Church and conquers the world.

Perhaps people only exist in my thoughts Perhaps the sky only exists in my mind When will I wake up and to what

The bright blue sky remained cloudless, and the aquamarine ocean still crashed gently onto the white sand beach, but the scene was suddenly warped. Twisted, as I processed Thad's words.

I now think that was distanced me from Tricia and from the Rape Crisis Center was their use of generalities. I did not want to be one of a group or compared with others. It somehow blindsided my sense that I was going to survive. Tricia prepared me for failure by saying that it would be okay if I failed. She did this by showing me that the odds out there were against me. But what she told me, I didn't want to hear. In the face of dismal statistics regarding arrest, prosecution, and even full recovery for the victim, I saw no choice but to ignore the statistics. I needed what gave me hope, like being assigned a female assistant district attorney, not the news that the number of rape prosecutions in Syracuse for that calendar year had been nil.

Sevmeden edemediklerimize Sen varsin diye her yer her zaman cok guzel. Sen bana inandigin icin, ben kendime inanir oldum. Sana bakmak icimi isitiyor. Sen benim gordugum en guzel seysin. Siz olmasaydiniz hayat bu kadar neseli gecmeyecekti. Sen o gun bana oyle dedin ya, ben onu hic unutmadim, hep sakladim. Seni neredeyse hic gormuyorum ama seni cok seviyorum. Senin o efendim diye cevap veren sesin, iyi ki var o sesin. Seninle ben ne guzel seyler yapiyoruz beraber. .. Sen benim canimsin. Saka yapmiyorum. .. Siz benim en guzel anilarimsiniz. .. Sen var ya, iyi ki karsima ciktin.

We're pupils of the religions—Catholic, Protestant, Jewish . . . Well, the Christian religions. Those who directed French education down through the centuries were the Jesuits. They taught us how to make sentences translated from the Latin, well balanced, with a verb, a subject, a complement, a rhythm. In short—here a speech, there a preach, everywhere a sermon! They say of an author, “He knits a nice sentence!” Me, I say, “It's unreadable.” They say, “What magnificent theatrical language!” I look, I listen. It's flat, it's nothing, it's nil. Me, I've slipped the spoken word into print. In one sole shot.

Les bonnes résolutions ne sont que d'inutiles efforts pour contrarier les lois scientifiques. Elles ont leur source dans notre vanité. Leur résultat est absolument nil. Elles nous donnent, de temps à autre, quelques-unes de ces riches et stériles émotions qui ne sont pas sans charme pour les âmes faibles. Voilà tout ce qu'on peut dire en leur faveur. Ce sont des chèques tirés sur une banque où l'on n'a pas de compte ouvert.

I curled into a ball under the thin covers, trying to get warm. Despite the moonlight, darkness crept in, cold and complete, like the dying whisper of a gate. But it was the darkness in my head that was the hardest to shake. For the first time, the darkness had a name. It was the daywatch. Thad had seventy-five days left.

Horace, hands on hips, paced around the circle, frowning as he studied them. They were a scruffy bunch, he thought, and none too clean. Their hair and beards were overlong and often gathered in rough and greasy plaits, like Nils’s. There were scars and broken noses and cauliflower ears in abundance, as well as the widest assortment of rough tattoos, most of which looked as if they had been carved into the skin with the point of a dagger, after which dye was rubbed into the cut. There were grinning skulls, snakes, wolf heads and strange northern runes. All of the men were burly and thickset. Most had bellies on them that suggested they might be overfond of ale. All in all they were as untidy, rank smelling and rough tongued a bunch of pirates as one could be unlucky enough to run into. Horace turned to Will and his frown faded. ‘They’re beautiful,’ he said.

Someone asked me, “What do you have to say about Rajneesh after his death?” I said that the world has never seen such a pimp nor will it ever see one in the future. He combined Western therapies, the Tantric system, and everything that you could find in the books. He made a big business out of it. He took money from the boys; he took money from girls, and kept it for himself. He is dead and so we don't say anything. Nil nisi bonum (Of the dead speak not unless it be good)

Aestus erat, mediamque dies exegerat horam; adposui medio membra levanda toro. pars adaperta fuit, pars altera clausa fenestrae; quale fere silvae lumen habere solent, qualia sublucent fugiente crepuscula Phoebo, aut ubi nox abiit, nec tamen orta dies. illa verecundis lux est praebenda puellis, qua timidus latebras speret habere pudor. ecce, Corinna venit, tunica velata recincta, candida dividua colla tegente coma— qualiter in thalamos famosa Semiramis isse dicitur, et multis Lais amata viris. Deripui tunicam—nec multum rara nocebat; pugnabat tunica sed tamen illa tegi. quae cum ita pugnaret, tamquam quae vincere nollet, victa est non aegre proditione sua. ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros, in toto nusquam corpore menda fuit. quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos! forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi! quam castigato planus sub pectore venter! quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur! Singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum. Cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo. proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies!

If, redesigning our education system from scratch, it was suggested that we should attempt to teach Swahili to children but carry out those lessons in another foreign tongue, such as Swedish, this would rightly be derided as lunacy. Yet this is not so very far from what we are attempting to do. Take Coyne, for example. He is 14 now. His grasp of English is, at best, tenuous. Despite this, we are trying to teach him to speak French. Equally, his mathematical ability is next to nil; we are trying, in economics lessons, to explain concepts like inflation and money supply to a boy who can’t add..

I have not planned to become something and what I do is not a job I am not collecting money or property I am not saving my life for the future I belong to the wind but I live and this seems to be the intention of life today I live here and now and if that is too much I won't be alive tomorrow That is the way it is and so what

One might go to the bakery, perhaps," he said. "But did you know the baker has tuberculosis? All the people here run around in a highly infectious state. The baker's daughter has tuberculosis too, it seems to have something to do with the runoff from the cellulose factory, with the steam that the locomotives have spewed out for decades, with the bad diet that people eat. Almost all of them have cankered lung lobes, pneumothorax and pneumoperitoneum are endemic. They have tuberculosis of the lungs, the head, the arms and legs. All of them have tubercular abscesses somewhere on their bodies. The valley is notorious for tuberculosis. You will find every form of it here: skin tuberculosis, brain tuberculosis, intestinal tuberculosis. Many cases of meningitis, which is deadly within hours. The workmen have tuberculosis from the dirt they dig around in, the farmers have it from their dogs and the infected milk. The majority of the people have galloping consumption. Moreover," he said, "the effect of the new drugs, of streptomycin for example, is nil. Did you know the knacker has tuberculosis? That the landlady has tuberculosis? That the landlady has tuberculosis? That her daughters have been to sanatoria on three occasions? Tuberculosis is by no means on the way out. People claim it is curable. but that's what the pharmaceutical industry says. In fact, tuberculosis is as incurable as it always was. Even people who have been inoculated against it come down with it. Often those who have it the worst are the ones who look so healthy that you wouldn't suspect they were ill at all. Their rosy faces are utterly at variance with their ravaged lungs. You keep running into people who've had to endure a cautery or, at the very least, a transverse lesion. Most of them have had their lives ruined by failed reconstructive surgery." We didn't go to the bakery. Straight home instead.

kjære Gud mamma ga meg en samuraikriger i dag det er sånn hun ser meg sier hun som er latterlig tenkte jeg først som betyr at hun ikke vet noe om om hvem jeg er en kriger? med sverd og øks og kniv i beltet? og rustning? så sjekka jeg litt nærmere og fant ut at en samurai opprinnelig var en slags livvakt eller tjener en som passer på og steller med dem som fortjener det og sånn vil jeg gjerne være

Of course, I don’t remember any of this time. It is absolutely impossible to identify with the infant my parents photographed, indeed so impossible that it seems wrong to use the word “me” to describe what is lying on the changing table, for example, with unusually red skin, arms and legs spread, and a face distorted into a scream, the cause of which no one can remember, or on a sheepskin rug on the floor, wearing white pajamas, still red-faced, with large, dark eyes squinting slightly. Is this creature the same person as the one sitting here in Malmö writing? And will the forty-year-old creature who is sitting in Malmö writing this one overcast September day in a room filled with the drone of the traffic outside and the autumn wind howling through the old-fashioned ventilation system be the same as the gray, hunched geriatric who in forty years from now might be sitting dribbling and trembling in an old people’s home somewhere in the Swedish woods? Not to mention the corpse that at some point will be laid out on a bench in a morgue? Still known as Karl Ove. And isn’t it actually unbelievable that one simple name encompasses all of this? The fetus in the belly, the infant on the changing table, the forty-year-old in front of the computer, the old man in the chair, the corpse on the bench? Wouldn’t it be more natural to operate with several names since their identities and self-perceptions are so very different? Such that the fetus might be called Jens Ove, for example, and the infant Nils Ove, and the five- to ten-year-old Per Ove, the ten- to twelve-year-old Geir Ove, the twelve- to seventeen-year-old Kurt Ove, the seventeen- to twenty-three-year-old John Ove, the twenty-three- to thirty-two-year-old Tor Ove, the thirty-two- to forty-six-year-old Karl Ove — and so on and so forth? Then the first name would represent the distinctiveness of the age range, the middle name would represent continuity, and the last, family affiliation.

Măsurăm valoarea individului după suma dezacordurilor sale cu lucrurile, după neputinţa de a fi indiferent, după refuzul de a deveni obiect. De aici declasarea ideii de Bine, de aici voga Diavolului. Cît timp am trăit în iadul unor angoase elegante, ne împăcăm de minune cu Dumnezeu. Cînd alte spaime, mai sordide, s-au abătut peste noi, ne-a trebuit un alt sistem de referinţă, un alt patron. Diavolul era personajul visat. Totul în el se potriveşte cu natura evenimentelor, pe care le generează şi guvernează: atributele lui coincid cu ale timpului. Să ni-l facem icoană, aşadar, de vreme ce, departe de a fi un produs al subiectivităţii noastre, o creaţie a nevoii de blasfemie ori de singurătate, el este demonul îndoielilor şi spaimelor noastre, instigatorul rătăcirilor omeneşti. Protestele, furiile sale nu-s totuşi lipsite de echivoc: acest „mare Nefericit" e un rebel care se îndoieşte. Dacă firea i-ar fi simplă, dintr-o bucată, nu ne-ar înduioşa defel; dar paradoxurile, contradicţiile lui sînt ale noastre: el strînge laolaltă neputinţele omului, serveşte de model revoltelor şi urii cu care ne înfruntăm noi pe noi înşine. Definiţia infernului? S-o căutăm în forma aceasta de revoltă şi ură, în supliciul orgoliului rănit, în senzaţia de a fi o înfricoşătoare cantitate neglijabilă, în chinurile „eului", ale acestui „eu" cu care începe sfîrşitul nostru.

He was a very tall, very thin creature that could only be described as a wood elf. His long, ponytailed hair was every color of autumn leaves; his skin was the hue of fresh-cut pine boards; and his eyes were the vibrant color of fresh spring foliage. He also wore blue jeans and brown loafers and a ragged t-shirt that read, "Choose your Weapon!" under which sat a line of Dungeons and Dragons dice of various shapes and denominations. Kay could barely believe it. For one, where did he get that shirt? These Otherworld people LIVED Dungeons and Dragons--they played it too? For a second Kay thought she might be looking at the most ironic t-shirt and t-shirt wearer combination ever.

The second project is in the field of metaphysics: with the aim of showing that, in the words of Professor H. M. Tooten, “evolution is a hoax”, Olivier Gratiolet has undertaken an exhaustive inventory of all the imperfections and inadequacies to which the human organism is heir: vertical posture, for example, gives man only a precarious balance: muscular tension alone keeps him upright, thus causing constant fatigue and discomfort in the spinal column, which, although sixteen times stronger than it would have been were it straight, does not allow man to carry a meaningful weight on his back; feet ought to be broader, more spread out, more specifically suited to locomotion, whereas what he has are only atrophied hands deprived of prehensile ability; legs are not sturdy enough to bear the body’s weight, which makes them bend, and moreover they are a strain on the heart, which has to pump blood about three feet up, whence come swollen feet, varicose veins, etc.; hip joints are fragile and constantly prone to arthrosis or serious fractures; arms are atrophied and too slender; hands are frail, especially the little finger, which has no use, the stomach has no protection whatsoever, no more than the genitals do; the neck is rigid and limits rotation of the head, the teeth do not allow food to be grasped from the sides, the sense of smell is virtually nil, night vision is less than mediocre, hearing is very inadequate; man’s hairless and unfurred body affords no protection against cold, and, in sum, of all the animals of creation, man, who is generally considered the ultimate fruit of evolution, is the most naked of all.

His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge. Of contemporary literature, philosophy and politics he appeared to know next to nothing. Upon my quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way who he might be and what he had done. My surprise reached a climax, however, when I found incidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican Theory and of the composition of the Solar System. That any civilized human being in this nineteenth century should not be aware that the earth travelled round the sun appeared to be to me such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it. “You appear to be astonished,” he said, smiling at my expression of surprise. “Now that I do know it I shall do my best to forget it.” “To forget it!” “You see,” he explained, “I consider that a man’s brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones.” “But the Solar System!” I protested. “What the deuce is it to me?” he interrupted impatiently; “you say that we go round the sun. If we went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth of difference to me or to my work.” I was on the point of asking him what that work might be, but something in his manner showed me that the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered over our short conversation, however, and endeavoured to draw my deductions from it. He said that he would acquire no knowledge which did not bear upon his object. Therefore all the knowledge which he possessed was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated in my own mind all the various points upon which he had shown me that he was exceptionally well-informed. I even took a pencil and jotted them down. I could not help smiling at the document when I had completed it. It ran in this way— SHERLOCK HOLMES—his limits. 1. Knowledge of Literature.—Nil. 2. Philosophy.—Nil. 3. Astronomy.—Nil. 4. Politics.—Feeble. 5. Botany.—Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening. 6. Geology.—Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me splashes upon his trousers, and told me by their colour and consistence in what part of London he had received them. 7. Chemistry.—Profound. 8. Anatomy.—Accurate, but unsystematic. 9. Sensational Literature.—Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century. 10. Plays the violin well. 11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman. 12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

Many potential readers will skip the shopping cart or cash-out clerk because they have seen so many disasters reported in the news that they’ve acquired a panic mentality when they think of them. “Disasters scare me to death!” they cry. “I don’t want to read about them!” But really, how can a picture hurt you? Better that each serve as a Hallmark card that greets your fitful fevers with reason and uncurtains your valor. Then, so gospeled, you may see that defeating a disaster is as innocently easy as deciding to go out to dinner. Remove the dread that bars your doors of perception, and you will enjoy a banquet of treats that will make the difference between suffering and safety. You will enter a brave new world that will erase your panic, and release you from the grip of terror, and relieve you of the deadening effects of indifference —and you will find that switch of initiative that will energize your intelligence, empower your imagination, and rouse your sense of vigilance in ways that will tilt the odds of danger from being forever against you to being always in your favor. Indeed, just thinking about a disaster is one of the best things you can do —because it allows you to imagine how you would respond in a way that is free of pain and destruction. Another reason why disasters seem so scary is that many victims tend to see them as a whole rather than divide them into much smaller and more manageable problems. A disaster can seem overwhelming when confronted with everything at once —but if you dice it into its tiny parts and knock them off one at a time, the whole thing can seem as easy as eating a lavish dinner one bite at a time. In a disaster you must also plan for disruption as well as destruction. Death and damage may make the news, but in almost every disaster far more lives are disrupted than destroyed. Wit­ness the tornado that struck Joplin, Missouri, in May 2011 and killed 158 people. The path of death and destruction was less than a mile wide and only 22 miles long —but within thirty miles 160,000 citizens whose property didn’t suffer a dime of damage were profoundly disrupted by the carnage, loss of power and water, suspension of civic services, and inability to buy food, gas, and other necessities. You may rightfully believe your chances of dying in a disaster in your lifetime may be nearly nil, but the chances of your life being disrupted by a disaster in the next decade is nearly a sure thing. Not only should you prepare for disasters, you should learn to premeditate them. Prepare concerns the body; premeditate concerns the mind. Everywhere you go, think what could happen and how you might/could/would/should respond. Use your imagination. Fill your brain with these visualizations —run mind-movies in your head —develop a repertoire —until when you walk into a building/room/situation you’ll automatically know what to do. If a disaster does ambush you —sure you’re apt to panic, but in seconds your memory will load the proper video into your mobile disk drive and you’ll feel like you’re watching a scary movie for the second time and you’ll know what to expect and how to react. That’s why this book is important: its manner of vivifying disasters kickstarts and streamlines your acquiring these premeditations, which lays the foundation for satisfying your needs when a disaster catches you by surprise.

Anumite mărturii, rare, ce-i drept, ni-l înfăţişează pe Gogol ca pe un sfînt; altele, mai frecvente, ca pe-o fantomă. Nu i se cunoaşte nicio relaţie amoroasă. Biografii săi vorbesc deschis de impotenţă. Nu e cusur care să izoleze mai mult. Impotentul dispune de o forţă lăuntrică ce-l singularizează, îl face inaccesibil şi, în chip paradoxal, primejdios: provoacă frică. Animal desprins de animalitate, bărbat fără neam, viaţă abandonată de instinct, el se înalţă prin tot ce a pierdut: e victima preferată a spiritului. Ne-am putea imagina un şobolan impotent? Rozătoarele realizează de minune actul cu pricina. Nu acelaşi lucru se poate afirma despre oameni: cu cît sînt mai excepţionali, cu atît se agravează la ei această slăbiciune majoră ce-i smulge din lanţul fiinţelor. Orice activitate le este îngăduită, mai puţin aceea ce ne înrudeşte cu ansamblul zoologiei. Sexualitatea ne egalizează; mai mult: ne răpeşte misterul... Ea este aceea care, în mai mare măsură decît orice altă nevoie şi activitate, ne pune pe picior de egalitate cu semenii noştri: cu cît o practicăm mai asiduu, cu atît devenim mai asemănători. Abstinenţa voluntară sau forţată, proiectînd individul în acelaşi timp mai sus şi mai jos de Specie, face din el un amestec de sfînt şi imbecil care ne pune pe ganduri şi ne consternează. De aici si ura echivocă pe care o simţim faţă de călugări, ca de altfel faţă de orice bărbat care a renunţat la femeie, care a renunţat să fie ca noi. Nu-i vom ierta niciodată singurătatea: ea ne umileşte şi ne dezgustă, ne sfidează. Gogol a mărturisit cîndva că dacă ar fi cedat iubirii, aceasta l-ar fi «făcut praf şi pulbere pe dată». O asemenea mărturisire, care ne răscoleşte şi ne fascinează, ne duce cu gîndul la «taina» lui Kierkegaard, la «ghimpele din carnea sa». Totuşi, filozoful danez era o natură erotică: ruperea logodnei, eşecul în iubire l-au chinuit întreaga viaţă şi i-au marcat pînă şi scrierile teologice. Ar trebui atunci să-l comparăm pe Gogol cu Swift, celălalt «osîndit»? Ar însemna să uităm că acesta a avut şansa, dacă nu să iubească, cel puţin să facă, victime. Pentru a fixa locul lui Gogol, trebuie să ne imaginăm un Swift fără Stella şi fără Vanessa. Fiinţele care trăiesc sub ochii noştri în Revizorul sau în Suflete moarte, observă un biograf, nu sînt «nimic». Şi fiind «nimic», sunt «totul». Intr-adevăr, «substanţa» le lipseşte; de unde, universalitatea lor. Ce sînt Cicikov, Pliuşkin, Sobakevici, Nozdriov, Malinov, eroul din Mantaua ori acela din Nasul, dacă nu noi înşine reduşi la adevărata noastră esenţă? «Suflete goale», spune Gogol; şi totuşi, ele au o anume măreţie: aceea a platitudinii. Un Shakespeare al meschinului, s-ar spune, un Shakespeare preocupat să ne observe ideile fixe, micile obsesii, foiala noastră zilnică. Nimeni n-a mers mai departe decat Gogol în perceperea cotidianului. De prea multă realitate, personajele sale devin inexistente şi se preschimbă in simboluri în care ne recunoaştem pe deplin. Ele nu decad: sînt decăzute dintru început. Fără să vrem, ne vin în minte Demonii; dar, in vreme ce eroii lui Dostoievski se avîntă spre limitele lor, eroii lui Gogol dau îndărăt spre acelea ce le sînt proprii; unii par să răspundă unei chemări ce-i depăşeşte, ceilalţi nu dau ascultare decft nesfîrşitei lor vulgarităţi.