Nis Quotes

Nora & Patch: N:Is everything a joke to you? P:Not everything. N:Like what? P:You.

COOL·NESS [KOOL-NIS] -noun CATCHING your mom gazing at the crazy crowd like she finally gets it WATCHING your dad head-banging like he’s Finn’s twin brother LEARNING that your new friends Tash and Kallie are a thousand times more complicated than you realized, and loving them for it FEELING every one of your boyfriend’s pounding drumbeats, and thinking it’s the most romantic music ever written REALIZING you’re completely unique . . . even in a crowd

Tek ajo shtepi nis dhe mbyllet gjithcka imja. Jashte saj ndihem si nje kermill qe ka dale nga guaska, e ka humbur dhe perpiqet me kot ta rigjeje. Nje kermill ne kerkim te guaskes se humbur...

[I] threw open the door to find Rob sit­ting on the low stool in front of my book­case, sur­round­ed by card­board box­es. He was seal­ing the last one up with tape and string. There were eight box­es - eight box­es of my books bound up and ready for the base­ment! "He looked up and said, 'Hel­lo, dar­ling. Don't mind the mess, the care­tak­er said he'd help me car­ry these down to the base­ment.' He nod­ded to­wards my book­shelves and said, 'Don't they look won­der­ful?' "Well, there were no words! I was too ap­palled to speak. Sid­ney, ev­ery sin­gle shelf - where my books had stood - was filled with ath­let­ic tro­phies: sil­ver cups, gold cups, blue rosettes, red rib­bons. There were awards for ev­ery game that could pos­si­bly be played with a wood­en ob­ject: crick­et bats, squash rac­quets, ten­nis rac­quets, oars, golf clubs, ping-​pong bats, bows and ar­rows, snook­er cues, lacrosse sticks, hock­ey sticks and po­lo mal­lets. There were stat­ues for ev­ery­thing a man could jump over, ei­ther by him­self or on a horse. Next came the framed cer­tificates - for shoot­ing the most birds on such and such a date, for First Place in run­ning races, for Last Man Stand­ing in some filthy tug of war against Scot­land. "All I could do was scream, 'How dare you! What have you DONE?! Put my books back!' "Well, that's how it start­ed. Even­tu­al­ly, I said some­thing to the ef­fect that I could nev­er mar­ry a man whose idea of bliss was to strike out at lit­tle balls and lit­tle birds. Rob coun­tered with re­marks about damned blue­stock­ings and shrews. And it all de­gen­er­at­ed from there - the on­ly thought we prob­ably had in com­mon was, What the hell have we talked about for the last four months? What, in­deed? He huffed and puffed and snort­ed and left. And I un­packed my books.

Si se requiere mucho valor para admitir que no conoces todas las respuestas, imagina lo difícil que es admitir que nis siquiera conoces la pregunta.

Sometimes, in the throes of a nightmare when unseen powers whirl one over the roofs of strange dead cities toward the grinning chasm of Nis, it is a relief and even a delight to shriek wildly and throw oneself voluntarily along with the hideous vortex of dream-doom into whatever bottomless gulf may yawn.

89†Forever, O LORD, Your word nis settled in heaven.

Everlynne. Die würde noch dem Teufel ins Gesicht spucken. Und nähme er sie mit sich hinunter nach Nis, würde sie binnen kurzer Zeit den Laden übernehmen.

Vdekja e Nositit Me zjarr ju flas..., me zjarr. Në gjirin tim kam hapur varr... Që t’i jap shpresë-edhe t’j-a marr... Un’ ik liqerit zemërak Fatlum dh’ i pastër si zëmbak, Po zemra ime kullon gjak: Se vijnë-urtuar zogjtë-e mi, Dh’ u jap ushqim me dashuri- Një dashuri për llaftari: Pa nis ah! gjirin t’a godas... Dh’ e hap ah!-gjirin më një ças..., Dh’ i nginj ah! zogjtë-e vdes me gas!...

La Lo­te­ría, con su re­par­to se­ma­nal de enor­mes pre­mios, era el único acon­te­ci­mien­to pú­bli­co al que los pro­les pres­ta­ban ver­da­de­ra aten­ción. Era pro­ba­ble que hu­bie­se mi­llo­nes de pro­les para quie­nes la Lo­te­ría fuese la razón prin­ci­pal, si no la única, para se­guir con vida. Era su de­lei­te, su lo­cu­ra, su anal­gé­si­co, su es­ti­mu­lan­te in­te­lec­tual. En lo que se re­fe­ría a la Lo­te­ría, hasta quie­nes ape­nas sa­bían leer y es­cri­bir eran ca­pa­ces de lle­var a cabo in­trin­ca­dos cálcu­los y sor­pren­den­tes lo­gros me­mo­rís­ti­cos. Había toda una tribu de in­di­vi­duos que se ga­na­ban la vida ven­dien­do sis­te­mas, pre­dic­cio­nes y amu­le­tos de la suer­te. Wins­ton no tenía nada que ver con la Lo­te­ría, que se ges­tio­na­ba desde el Mi­nis­te­rio de la Abun­dan­cia, pero sabía (como cual­quier otro miem­bro del Par­ti­do) que los pre­mios eran casi todos ima­gi­na­rios. Solo se pa­ga­ban pe­que­ñas sumas y los ga­na­do­res de los pre­mios gor­dos en reali­dad no exis­tían. En au­sen­cia de ver­da­de­ra co­mu­ni­ca­ción entre una parte de Ocea­nía y otra, no re­sul­ta­ba di­fí­cil ama­ñar­lo.

How different this world to the one about which I used to read, and in which I used to live! This is one peopled by demons, phantoms, vampires, ghouls, boggarts, and nixies. Names of things of which I knew nothing are now so familiar that the creatures themselves appear to have real existence. The Arabian Nights are not more fantastic than our gospels; and Lempriere would have found ours a more marvelous world to catalog than the classical mythical to which he devoted his learning. Ours is a world of luprachaun and clurichaune, deev and cloolie, and through the maze of mystery I have to thread my painful way, now learning how to distinguish oufe from pooka, and nis from pixy; study long screeds upon the doings of effreets and dwergers, or decipher the dwaul of delirious monks who have made homunculi from refuse. Waking or sleeping, the image of some uncouth form is always present to me. What would I not give for a volume by the once despised 'A. L. O. E' or prosy Emma Worboise? Talk of the troubles of Winifred Bertram or Jane Eyre, what are they to mine? Talented authoresses do not seem to know that however terrible it may be to have as a neighbour a mad woman in a tower, it is much worse to have to live in a kitchen with a crocodile. This elementary fact has escaped the notice of writers of fiction; the re-statement of it has induced me to reconsider my decision as to the most longed-for book; my choice now is the Swiss Family Robinson. In it I have no doubt I should find how to make even the crocodile useful, or how to kill it, which would be still better. ("Mysterious Maisie")

They're monsters! I know! I was at Golyn Nis! I lay amid the corpses for days! But you-" Kitay swallowed, choking on his words. "You turned around and did the exact same thing. Civilians. Innocents. Children, Rin. You just buried an entire country and you don't feel a thing.

Ci-nis-mo: en esta ciudad tiene formas de expresión especiales, todo en torno a esas gentes y dentro de esas gentes es cinismo: si hay un infierno, lo que no creo, porque luego no hay nada, tampoco cielo, pero si hay algún infierno, aquí está el modelo: esta ciudad es el infierno

can deal gently with the ignorant and wayward, since he himself  n is beset with weakness.

Skybright was left alone on the empty main street with only the sound of Zhen Ni’s screams ringing in her ears.

Rather  l train yourself for godliness; 8for while  m bodily training is of some value, godliness  n is of value in every way, as  o it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.

She was the first close friend who I felt like I’d re­ally cho­sen. We weren’t in each other’s lives be­cause of any obli­ga­tion to the past or con­ve­nience of the present. We had no shared his­tory and we had no rea­son to spend all our time to­ gether. But we did. Our friend­ship in­ten­si­fied as all our friends had chil­dren – she, like me, was un­con­vinced about hav­ing kids. And she, like me, found her­self in a re­la­tion­ship in her early thir­ties where they weren’t specif­i­cally work­ing to­wards start­ing a fam­ily. By the time I was thirty-four, Sarah was my only good friend who hadn’t had a baby. Ev­ery time there was an­other preg­nancy an­nounce­ment from a friend, I’d just text the words ‘And an­other one!’ and she’d know what I meant. She be­came the per­son I spent most of my free time with other than Andy, be­cause she was the only friend who had any free time. She could meet me for a drink with­out plan­ning it a month in ad­vance. Our friend­ship made me feel lib­er­ated as well as safe. I looked at her life choices with no sym­pa­thy or con­cern for her. If I could ad­mire her de­ci­sion to re­main child-free, I felt en­cour­aged to ad­mire my own. She made me feel nor­mal. As long as I had our friend­ship, I wasn’t alone and I had rea­son to be­lieve I was on the right track. We ar­ranged to meet for din­ner in Soho af­ter work on a Fri­day. The waiter took our drinks or­der and I asked for our usual – two Dirty Vodka Mar­ti­nis. ‘Er, not for me,’ she said. ‘A sparkling wa­ter, thank you.’ I was ready to make a joke about her un­char­ac­ter­is­tic ab­sti­nence, which she sensed, so as soon as the waiter left she said: ‘I’m preg­nant.’ I didn’t know what to say. I can’t imag­ine the ex­pres­sion on my face was par­tic­u­larly en­thu­si­as­tic, but I couldn’t help it – I was shocked and felt an un­war­ranted but in­tense sense of be­trayal. In a de­layed re­ac­tion, I stood up and went to her side of the ta­ble to hug her, un­able to find words of con­grat­u­la­tions. I asked what had made her change her mind and she spoke in va­garies about it ‘just be­ing the right time’ and wouldn’t elab­o­rate any fur­ther and give me an an­swer. And I needed an an­swer. I needed an an­swer more than any­thing that night. I needed to know whether she’d had a re­al­iza­tion that I hadn’t and, if so, I wanted to know how to get it. When I woke up the next day, I re­al­ized the feel­ing I was ex­pe­ri­enc­ing was not anger or jeal­ousy or bit­ter­ness – it was grief. I had no one left. They’d all gone. Of course, they hadn’t re­ally gone, they were still my friends and I still loved them. But huge parts of them had dis­ap­peared and there was noth­ing they could do to change that. Un­less I joined them in their spa­ces, on their sched­ules, with their fam­i­lies, I would barely see them. And I started dream­ing of an­other life, one com­pletely re­moved from all of it. No more chil­dren’s birth­day par­ties, no more chris­ten­ings, no more bar­be­cues in the sub­urbs. A life I hadn’t ever se­ri­ously con­tem­plated be­fore. I started dream­ing of what it would be like to start all over again. Be­cause as long as I was here in the only Lon­don I knew – mid­dle-class Lon­don, cor­po­rate Lon­don, mid-thir­ties Lon­don, mar­ried Lon­don – I was in their world. And I knew there was a whole other world out there.

Balade de Bon Conseyl Flee fro the prees and dwelle with sothfastnesse; Suffyce unto thy thing, though it be smal, For hord hath hate, and climbing tikelnesse, Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal. Savour no more than thee bihove shal, Reule wel thyself that other folk canst rede, And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede. Tempest thee noght al croked to redresse In trust of hir that turneth as a bal; Gret reste stant in litel besinesse. Be war therfore to sporne ayeyns an al, Stryve not, as doth the crokke with the wal. Daunte thyself, that dauntest otheres dede, And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede. That thee is sent, receyve in buxumnesse; The wrastling for this world axeth a fal. Her is non hoom, her nis but wildernesse: Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beste, out of thy stal! Know thy contree, look up, thank God of al; Hold the heye wey and lat thy gost thee lede, And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede. Envoy Therefore, thou Vache, leve thyn old wrecchednesse; Unto the world leve now to be thral. Crye him mercy, that of his hy goodnesse Made thee of noght, and in especial Draw unto him, and pray in general For thee, and eek for other, hevenlich mede; And trouthe thee shal delivere, it is no drede. Explicit Le bon counseill de G. Chaucer

PROVERBS 31 The words of King Lemuel. An oracle that his mother taught him:     2 What are you doing, my son? [1] What are you doing,  f son of my womb?         What are you doing,  g son of my vows?     3 Do  h not give your strength to women,         your ways to those  i who destroy kings.     4  j It is not for kings, O Lemuel,         it is not for kings  k to drink wine,         or for rulers to take  l strong drink,     5 lest they drink and forget what has been decreed         and  m pervert the rights of all the afflicted.     6 Give strong drink to the one who  n is perishing,         and wine to  o those in bitter distress; [2]     7  p let them drink and forget their poverty         and remember their misery no more.     8  q Open your mouth for the mute,         for the rights of all who are destitute. [3]     9 Open your mouth,  r judge righteously,

Zevk verirsen zevk alırsın.

Vjeshta në parakalim Vjeshtë në natyrë dhe vjeshtë ndër ftyra tona, Afshon erë e mekun, lëngon i zymtë dielli, lëngon shpirt' i smum ndër krahnore tona, dridhetjet' e vyshkun ndër gemba të një plepi. Ngjyrët e verdha lozin në vallen e fundme - (dëshirë e marrë e gjethve që një nga një vdesin!) Gëzimet, andjet tona, dëshirat e fundme nëpër balta të vjeshtës një nga një po shkelin. Një lis pasqyrohet në lotin e qiellit, tundet dhe përgjaket në pasion të viganit: "Jetë! Jetë unë due!" - e frymë merr prej fellit, si stuhi shkyn ajrin... por në fund ia nis vajit. Dhe m'at vaj bashkohet horizont' i mbytun në mjegull përpise. Pemët degët e lagun me vaj i mshtjellin në lutje - por kot! e dinë, të fikun, se nesër do vdesin... Vall! A ka shpëtim ndokund?! Mallëngjehet syni, mallëngjehet zemra n'orën e vorresës, kur heshtin damaret, e vorri inaltohet nën qiella ma t'epra me klithëm dëshprimi që në dhimbë të madhe zvarret. Vjeshtë në natyrë dhe vjeshtë ndër ftyra tona. Rënkoni dëshirat fëmitë ejetës së vafun; rënkoni në zije, qani mbi kufoma, që stolisin vjeshtën nëpër gemba të thamun.

Kënga Labërishte Kur ja marr o me të qarë asaj kënge trimërishte, them: - Eh, mbeta si i vrarë, se dyjarja labërishte më kujton .... O Perëndi, nuk e them, po do ja nis sy rrëmbushur në arrati si bilbil i Labërisë!

Feminine: The endings –e, -ie, -heit, -keit, -schaft, -ung, -tät, -anz, -enz, -ion, -tur, -ei, -ik suggest in most cases, that a noun is feminine (“die”). Neutral: The endings –o, -chen, -lein, -ment, -nis, -tum, -um, -ium as well as the prefix Ge- suggest in most cases that a noun is neutral (“das”). Masculine: The endings –ner, -ismus suggest in most cases that a noun

The popular Night Spectacular (adult/student and child 55/45NIS), a 45-minute sound-and-light show about the history of Jerusalem, is staged in the Citadel’s internal courtyard and cloaks the ancient stone in vivid projections. It takes place twice per night, five nights per week;

Nastavio sam da njuškam letnji suton. Nema adrenalina bez benzina. Točkovi su strugali, frikcija se pojačavala. Zavirivao sam u senovite prolaze tržnih centara: profesionalni lažnjaci se uvaljuju profesionalnim amaterima. Dauntaun je pomirljivo tonuo u daun. Prizor liči na razglednicu unutrašnjosti. Glavna vena Nišvila je definitivno predozirana bednjikavim gruvom. Ovaj grad je elementarna nepogoda. Sve je manje fliperana i klubova sa džuboks aparatima. Sve je manje poslastičara u kojima služe bozu i kadif. Sve je manje knjižara u kojima se prodaju knjige. Sve je manje dobrih stripova i porno časopisa na buvljacima. Sve je manje bioskopa koji ne zvrje prazni i gde dronjavo platno ne liči na paravan u seoskim ambulantama. Nema patine u Nišvilu, osim one švercovane - za brzu prodaju i brzu upotrebu. Jebi ga, ponekad mi nedostaje moji grad.Sve je više neona na pogrešnim mestima, i sve je više pogrešnih mesta, i sve je više ljudi koji umiru od želje da se zabave i ispričaju nekome kako je zabavno bilo. "Niko ovde nije poludeo od zabave", rekla je Kinki kada je kupila nove uredjaje za koje nije bilo dovoljno da ih uključiš u struju pa da prorade. Morao si da povezuješ komponente, tumačeći nacrtana uputstva da bi se, napokon, pojavila slika i zvuk - jasniji i čistiji od prethodnih slika i zvukova.

Kai ta­vo pro­tas blaš­ko­si tai šen, tai ten, ap­mąs­ty­mai niekuomet ne­virs tei­sin­go­mis iš­va­do­mis. Tik bū­da­mas tvir­tos, skais­čios ir ne­mir­tin­gos dva­sios žmo­gus įstengs pro­tin­gai nuspręs­ti įkvė­pęs ir iš­kvė­pęs sep­ty­nis kar­tus. Ta­čiau tam jis pri­va­lo bū­ti ryž­tin­gas ir pa­si­ren­gęs nu­šluo­ti vi­sa sa­vam ke­ly­je.

Papras­ti žmo­nės tvir­tai lai­ko­si sa­vo nuo­mo­nės ir to­dėl re­tai pranoks­ta ki­tus. Ta­čiau bū­tent po­kal­bis su žmo­gu­mi yra pir­mas žings­nis jį pra­nok­ti.

We are 'chetan' (Soul, eternal element), while obstacles are 'nis-chetan' (non-living). Therefore, 'chetan' will ultimately win!

I. Hate. Your. Pe-Nis.

After the city of Nis, that is a bad road,” the manager said. “There are mountains on either side which experience rockslides. The government cannot maintain it well. A river run close alongside the road, which floods in spring, but that should not trouble you now, but there are no guardrails, so you must watch carefully for potential washouts. There are steep grades and blind curves, which are not signaled in advance… You truly take your life in your hands up there. And there is no one to come to your assistance should you need it. Now tell me, where are you going to spend the night? “In Skopje.” “Well, be sure to get there before nightfall. Do not drive at night. There are bandits in those mountains. They would love to get their hands on a motorcycle like yours.” “Bandits? Really, I asked, hardly believing. “Yes. They learned from being partisans during the war. Some never stopped being outlaws.

Then there is the added complication of neo-pronouns. On university campuses, it is not uncommon for badges to be distributed during freshers’ week in order to limit the potential for faux pas. ‘My pronouns are he/him/his’ the badge might say, but it could just as easily be ‘they/ them/their’, ‘xe/xem/xyr’, ‘ne/nym/nis’, ‘ve/ver/vis’, ‘fae/faer/faers’ or ‘zie/ zim/zir’. This kind of cryptic puzzle makes for quite the initiation.

nothing can endure where order nis.

Mijne Heeren, een land nis ooit klein wanneer het door de zee wordt bespoeld, Moge al die werkzaamheid, al die geesteskracht, waarvan ons land overvloeit, hare bezigheid vinden en make zij van Belgenland een grooter Belgenland!

Hapi veshët mirë dhe dëgjoje këtë që do të them, është ide e madhe: Një herë e një kohë mu në zemër të tokës qëndronin tre kryqe. Një besimtar fanatik i tha shoku të vet: "Sot ti do jesh me mua në parajse". Dita u shua, që të dy vdiqën, u nisën për rrugë, por as parajsë gjetën e as ringjallje nuk gjetën. Profecia këtij besimtari fanatik nuk i doli. E pra, ishte më i lartësuari i të gjithëve ky njëri, me i lartësuari i tokës ishte, ishte qenia, për të cilën edhe qe selitur toka. Se planeti mbarë, pa këtë njeri asnjë kuptim nuk mund si të kishte. Kurrë më parë, por edhe më pas planeti s'kishte parë të tillë njeriu, çudi e shkuar çudisë ishte! Të tillë njeriu kurrë nuk ka për të patur! Në qenka kështu, që ligjet e natyrës nuk e mëshirokan as një të tillë, as Mesinë e shfaqur në tokë, dhe e detyruan edhe këtë të rronte në mes të gënjeshtrës dhe të vdiste për gënjeshtrën, atëherë del që mbarë planeti qenka gënjeshtër, u mbaka në këmbë me gënjeshtër, vetëm e bëka që u tallka me njeriun në mënyrën më përçmuese. Pra, del që ligjet e planetit tonë janë të rreme, janë lodër e djallit! E përse u dashka jetuar atëherë? Përgjigjmu kësaj pyetje, ne qofsh njëri! - Kjo që po thoni është tjetër gjë. Për mendimin tim, në gjykim u përzien dy shkaqe. Veprimin tuaj kjo e bën të pashpresë. Po mirë, në qofshi ju Zot, atëherë si i bëhet? Në mbaroftë gënjeshtra dhe ju u bindet që shkatar i saj ishte Zoti i mëparshëm, atëherë si i bëhet? - E kuptove, më në fund! - thirri Kirillovi i entusiazmuar. - Pra, mund t'u kuptoka, në qoftë se një i tillë si ti arriti ta kuptonte! Pra, e kuptove, ku gjendet shpetimi i të gjithëve? Në vertetimin e drejtësise së këtij gjykimi gjendet! Po kush do t'ua vertetoje njerezve? Unë! S'arrij do ta kuptoj si mund ta dije deri më sot ateisti që nuk ka Zot, dhe të mos jetë i ndergjegjesuar, në të njëjtën kohë, që kështu vetë ai u bë Zot? E si të mos e vrase veten ky pas kësaj? Se të jesh i vetedijshem që Zot nuk ka dhe të mos jesh i ndergjegjshem, ndërkohë, që, me këtë, ti vetë u bërë Zot, ky është një absurditet; pas kësaj, s'ke nga ia mban, domosdo, do vesh dorë mbi veten. Veç, në qofsh i vetedijshem për këtë, ti vetë je mbret i gjithëfuqishem, veten ti s'ke pse e vret, ke për të rrojtur me breroren e lavdise mbi krye. Ama, s'ke ç'bën, më i pari i shpallur patjetër duhet të vrase veten, ndryshe, kush do ta vertetoje që kjo kështu është? Unë ndaj dhe do ta vras veten, pa një pa dy do ta vras, që të jem i pari që e vertetoj. Unë jam ende Zot padashje dhe jam fatkeq, sepse e kam për detyrë të shpalose vetevullnetin. Që të gjithë janë fatkeqe, ngaqë të gjithë kanë frikë ta shpalosin vetevullnetin. Njerëzit ndaj dhe janë aq fatkeqe, aq të varfer; ata kanë frikë ta shpallin thelbin e vetevullnetit, gjithepushtetin. Jam tmerresisht fatkeq, sepse jam tmerresisht i frikesuar. Frika është mallkim për njeriun... Kurse unë po e shpall vetëvullnetin, e kam për detyrë t'i bind të tjerët që nuk besoj. Jam unë që do ta nis e do ta bitis, që do hap i pari deren. Jam unë që do t'i shpëtoj njerëzit. Vetëm kështu shpetohen të gjithë, kurse brezi tjetër do të jetë i përterire fizikisht; në gjendjen e sotme fizike, sipas mendimit Tim, njeriu s'ka si rron pa Zotin e mëparshem. Kam tre vjet që e kërkoj thelbin e besimit Tim dhe ja, më në fund, e gjeta: thelbi i besimit Tim është Vetëvullneti! Këtu mund ta shfaq mosnenshtrimin dhe lirinë time të tmerrshme.