Nite Quotes

Nite Owl II: But the country's disintegrating. What's happened to America? What's happened to the American dream? The Comedian: It came true. You're lookin' at it.

Dear soulmate, I don't know who you are, where you live, or what you look like. But I pray for you every nite and I ask God to point you in my direction.

You can never want too much. That’s how they silence us,” I said. “They told us we were lucky to be in the penal colony instead of the æther. Lucky to be murdered with NiteKind, not the noose. Lucky to be alive, even if we weren’t free. They told us to stop wanting more than what they gave us, because what they gave us was more than we deserved.” I picked up my jacket. “You’re not a prisoner any more, Arcturus.” Warden looked at me in silence. I left him in that ruined hall with the music echoing above him.

LAST NITE I HAD A DREAM. NOW I KNOW FOUR THINGS. I KNOW THAT MY VOICE DOESN’T CHANGE – BUT I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY. I KNOW THAT I AM GOD’S INSTRUMENT. I KNOW WHEN I’M GOING TO DIE – AND NOW A DREAM HAS SHOWN ME HOW I’M GOING TO DIE. I’M GOING TO BE A HERO! I TRUST THAT GOD WILL HELP ME, BECAUSE WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO LOOKS VERY HARD.

but bein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical dilemma/ i havent conquered yet/ do you see the point my spirit is too ancient to understand the separation of soul & gender/ my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face my love is too delicate to have thrown back on my face my love is too beautiful to have thrown back on my face my love is too sanctified to have thrown back on my face my love is too magic to have thrown back on my face my love is too saturday nite to have thrown back on my face my love is too complicated to have thrown back on my face my love is too music to have thrown back on my face

Nite-Owl: Rorschach...? Rorschach, wait! Where are you going? This is too big to be hard-assed about! We have to compromise! Rorschach: No. Not even in the face of Armageddon. Never compromise.

[Luke, holding stormtrooper helmet.] Alas, poor stormtrooper, I knew ye not,/ yet have I taken both uniform and life/ From thee. What manner of a man wert thou?/ A man of inf'nite jest or cruelty?/ A man with helpmate and with children too?/ A man who hath his Empire serv'd with pride?/ A man, perhaps, who wish'd for perfect peace?/ What'er thou wert, goodman, thy pardon grant/ Unto the one who took thy place: e'en me.

Me: u + me = wild animal sex 2nite? She responds right away. Good, she’s still up. Her: u = tempting – me = already in bed ÷ sleep. Me: Why the division sign?? Her: I don’t know. I was trying to answer in math. Bottom line: I’m in bed. Me: Perfect. That’s right where I want u to be. I’ll be there in 45.

In 1965, worked with Nite Owl bringing street gangs under control. Tackled the Big Figure together. Brought down Underboss together. Good team. Until he got soft, like rest. Until he quit. No staying power. None of them. Except Comedian. Met him in 1966. Forceful personality. Didn't care if people liked him. Uncompromising. Admired that. Of us all, he understood most. About world. About people. About society and what's happening to it. Things everyone knows in gut. Things everyone too scared to face, too polite to talk about. He understood. Understood man's capacity for horrors and never quit. Saw the world's black underbelly and never surrendered. Once man has seen, he can never turn his back on it. Never pretend it doesn't exist. No matter who orders him to look the other way. We do not do this thing because it is permitted. We do it because we have to. We do it because we are compelled.

He tried to read, but the words swam in front of his eyes in meaningless waves. He put on the television. Nick at Nite, the cultural equivalent of aerosol cheese.

Av medelklass finns fyra slag. 1) med bildning och piano, 2) med bildning men utan piano, 3) utan bildning men med piano, 4) utan både bildning och piano. Familjen i Nite tillhörde grupp fyra.

Accidents happen. That's what everyone says. But in a quantum universe there are no such things as accidents, only possibilities and probabilities folded into existence by perception.

in•fi•nite (ˈinfənit) adj. 1. The state of not knowing where one body ends and another begins: Our joy is infinite.

i gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. each nite i breathe you and become high.

LUKE Alas, poor stormtrooper, I knew ye not, Yet have I ta’en both uniform and life From thee. What manner of a man wert thou? A man of inf’nite jest or cruelty? A man with helpmate and with children too? A man who hath his Empire serv’d with pride?

Its some kynd of thing it aint us but yet its in us. Its looking out thru our eye hoals. May be you dont take no noatis of it only some times. Say you get woak up suddn in the middl of the nite. 1 minim youre a sleap and the nex youre on your feet with a spear in your han. Wel it werent you put that spear in your han it wer that other thing whats looking out thru your eye hoals. It aint you nor it dont even know your name. Its in us lorn and loan and sheltering how it can.

Okay, so I stopped posting status updates on Facebook a long time ago. I noticed that whenever someone posts something completely mundane and stupid, like 'Sushi 2nite!' seventeen people have to comment on that. 'I ♥ sushi!' and 'Spicy Tuna 4 meee!' But if you ever try to actually say something serious about your feelings or, like, your life, every one of your 386 "friends" is suddenly mute. So there you have it: My life is a post with no comments. Less interesting than spicy tuna.

The poodle bites ; The poodle chews it.

Nite, ti si živ. To znači da je tvoj potencijal bezgraničan. Možeš učiniti, stvoriti, sanjati što god poželiš. Ako ti promijeniš svijet, on će se doista promijeniti. To je potencijal. Čim umreš, potencijal nestaje. Gotovo je. Što si napravio, napravio si, svoj san si odsanjao, svoje ime ispisao. Možda te sahrane ovdje, možda čak postaneš jedan od onih koji hodaju i poslije smrti. Ali potencijala više neće biti.

You cynical shit," he told himself. Then he started to weep. "Don't be so fucking sentimental," Crake used to tell him. But why not? Why shouldn't he be sentimental? It wasn't as if there was anyone around to question his taste. Once in a while he considered killing himself-it seemed mandatory-but somehow he didn't have the required energy. Anyway, killing yourself was something you did for an audience, as on nitee-nitee.com. Under the circumstances, the here and now, it was a gesture that lacked elegance. He could imagine Crake's amused contempt, and the disappointment of Oryx: But Jimmy! Why do you give up? You have a job to do! You promised, remember? Perhaps he failed to take seriously his own despair.

Nite-Owl: Look, I just meant we took enough unnecessary risks retrieving your outfit this morning... Rorschach: Unnecessary? Cowering down here in sludge and pollution, conjuring names on screens, learning nothing: that is unnecessary. Give me smallest finger on man's hand. I'll produce information. Computer unnecessary. This face, all that's necessary... all I need.

(N)o more weeping, if you please...Do you remember what our ancestors used to say when everything went wrong? Ende desespereert nite. Whatever we do, let us never despair. So here is to good health and here is to our love for each other and here is to hope.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out, thinking it’s her. She’s saying, Come back. She’s saying she didn’t mean it. Instead, on the screen is a text from a number I vaguely recognize. Words flanked by tulips and open-armed ghosts. U coming 2nite? :D

What do I mean?' said Bill. 'Why, THAT. All men are alike in the U-nited States, an't they? It makes no odds whether a man has a thousand pound, or nothing, there. Particular in New York, I'm told, where Ned landed.' 'New York, was it?' asked Martin, thoughtfully.

TanganNya tidak pernah terlalu pendek untuk menjangkau kita...kupingNya tidak pernah terlalu bising sehingga tidak bisa mendengar seruan kita...& mataNya tidak pernah berada terlalu jauh sehingga tidak bisa memperhatikan kita... Tapi,seringkali hati kita yg terlalu kecil untuk menyadari keberadaanNya...& pikiran kita yg terlalu sempit untuk mengakui kekuasaanNya atas semua masalah kita... *nite all..yesaya 55:8

Once in a while he considered killing himself – it seemed mandatory – but somehow he didn’t have the required energy. Anyway, killing yourself was something you did for an audience, as on nitee-nite.com. Under the circumstances, the here and now, it was a gesture that lacked elegance.

Fine!" she shouted at it. "Okay!" shouted a man in a nearby booth at a stain on his tie. In the kitchen, another man, in a floral apron and a hairnet, nodded at a tub of soaking dishes "Yep," he said. People often found themselves assenting to inanimate objects in the Moonlight All-Nite.

Suffice it to say that it is a town like many towns, with a city hall, and a bowling alley (the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex), and a diner (the Moonlite All-Nite Diner), and a supermarket (Ralphs), and, of course, a community radio station reporting all the news that we are allowed to hear. On all sides it is surrounded by empty desert flatness. It is much like your town, perhaps. It might be more like your town than you’d like to admit.

Rea­sons Why I Loved Be­ing With Jen I love what a good friend you are. You’re re­ally en­gaged with the lives of the peo­ple you love. You or­ga­nize lovely ex­pe­ri­ences for them. You make an ef­fort with them, you’re pa­tient with them, even when they’re side­tracked by their chil­dren and can’t pri­or­i­tize you in the way you pri­or­i­tize them. You’ve got a gen­er­ous heart and it ex­tends to peo­ple you’ve never even met, whereas I think that ev­ery­one is out to get me. I used to say you were naive, but re­ally I was jeal­ous that you al­ways thought the best of peo­ple. You are a bit too anx­ious about be­ing seen to be a good per­son and you def­i­nitely go a bit over­board with your left-wing pol­i­tics to prove a point to ev­ery­one. But I know you re­ally do care. I know you’d sign pe­ti­tions and help peo­ple in need and vol­un­teer at the home­less shel­ter at Christ­mas even if no one knew about it. And that’s more than can be said for a lot of us. I love how quickly you read books and how ab­sorbed you get in a good story. I love watch­ing you lie on the sofa read­ing one from cover-to-cover. It’s like I’m in the room with you but you’re in a whole other gal­axy. I love that you’re al­ways try­ing to im­prove your­self. Whether it’s running marathons or set­ting your­self chal­lenges on an app to learn French or the fact you go to ther­apy ev­ery week. You work hard to be­come a bet­ter ver­sion of your­self. I think I prob­a­bly didn’t make my ad­mi­ra­tion for this known and in­stead it came off as ir­ri­ta­tion, which I don’t re­ally feel at all. I love how ded­i­cated you are to your fam­ily, even when they’re an­noy­ing you. Your loy­alty to them wound me up some­times, but it’s only be­cause I wish I came from a big fam­ily. I love that you al­ways know what to say in con­ver­sa­tion. You ask the right ques­tions and you know ex­actly when to talk and when to lis­ten. Ev­ery­one loves talk­ing to you be­cause you make ev­ery­one feel im­por­tant. I love your style. I know you think I prob­a­bly never no­ticed what you were wear­ing or how you did your hair, but I loved see­ing how you get ready, sit­ting in front of the full-length mir­ror in our bed­room while you did your make-up, even though there was a mir­ror on the dress­ing ta­ble. I love that you’re mad enough to swim in the English sea in No­vem­ber and that you’d pick up spi­ders in the bath with your bare hands. You’re brave in a way that I’m not. I love how free you are. You’re a very free per­son, and I never gave you the sat­is­fac­tion of say­ing it, which I should have done. No one knows it about you be­cause of your bor­ing, high-pres­sure job and your stuffy up­bring­ing, but I know what an ad­ven­turer you are un­der­neath all that. I love that you got drunk at Jack­son’s chris­ten­ing and you al­ways wanted to have one more drink at the pub and you never com­plained about get­ting up early to go to work with a hang­over. Other than Avi, you are the per­son I’ve had the most fun with in my life. And even though I gave you a hard time for al­ways try­ing to for al­ways try­ing to im­press your dad, I ac­tu­ally found it very adorable be­cause it made me see the child in you and the teenager in you, and if I could time-travel to any­where in his­tory, I swear, Jen, the only place I’d want to go is to the house where you grew up and hug you and tell you how beau­ti­ful and clever and funny you are. That you are spec­tac­u­lar even with­out all your sports trophies and mu­sic cer­tifi­cates and in­cred­i­ble grades and Ox­ford ac­cep­tance. I’m sorry that I loved you so much more than I liked my­self, that must have been a lot to carry. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of you the way you took care of me. And I’m sorry I didn’t take care of my­self, ei­ther. I need to work on it. I’m pleased that our break-up taught me that. I’m sorry I went so mental. I love you. I always will. I'm glad we met.

Seed of the little Seed of the wyld Seed of the berning is Hart of the chyld . . . Out goes the candl Out goes the lite Out goes my story And so Good Nite

People often found themselves assenting to inanimate objects in the Moonlite All-Nite.

Nick at Nite, the cultural equivalent of aerosol cheese.

...these U-nited States that were neither united nor stately, but were some loose configuration of tepid and petrified men trying to remake the world in their own faded image

The Moonlite All-Nite was packed, as it always was in the morning. There were few places in town where one could quietly have breakfast in the company of so many other people also quietly having breakfast. There is nothing more lonely than an action taken quietly on your own, and nothing more comforting than doing that same quiet action in parallel with fellow humans doing the same action, everyone alone next to each other.

Mine is an odd destiny. Perhaps no man in the U[nited] States has sacrificed or done more for the present Constitution than myself. And contrary to all my anticipations of its fate, as you know from the very beginning, I am still labouring to prop the frail and worthless fabric. Yet I have the murmur of its friends no less than the curses of its foes for my rewards. What can I do better than withdraw from the scene? Every day proves to me more and more that this American world was not made for me.

As I make the ten-minute drive into town, I curse O’Shea for forcing this volunteer gig on me and ponder the authenticity of voodoo dolls. Eventually I decide it doesn’t matter if they’re real or not. It’d still be fun to poke needles into a teeny doll version of Frank O’Shea. Once it starts falling apart from all the holes, I can use the head as a stress ball. At a red light, I shoot a quick text to my teammate Fitzy—Hey, do u know how 2 make a voodoo doll? His response doesn’t come until I reach the small arena across the street from the school. Him: I’d think u were fcking with me, but the question is stupid enuff to feel legit. No idea how to make v-doll. Can prolly use any old doll? Challenge will be finding a voodoo witch to link it to your target. Me: That makes sense. Him: Does it?? Me: Voodoo implies magic, hexes, etc. I don’t think any doll would work. Otherwise every doll is a v-doll, right? Him: Right. Me: Anyway. Thx. Thought u might know. Him: Why the fuck would *I* know? Me: Ur into all those fantasy role-play games. U know magic. Him: I’m not Harry Potter, ffs. Me: HP is a nerd. Ur a nerd. Ergo, ur a boy wizard. He sends a middle-finger emoji, then says, Bday beers at Malone’s 2nite. U still down? Me: Yup. Him: C U ltr

On Sunday, a lambent crevice opened up in the street outside my house, By Tuesday birds were flying into it. "I probably won't miss you," my mother said, "I'm only interested in the end of the world," I replied. Many find it difficult to breath without the atmosphere but we knew how. We just stopped breathing. We're at the Moonlite All-Nite Dinner and they're serving up fruit from the plants growing out of the waitress. The CLOSED sign whispers, "Please, don't touch me." We watch bodies fall to the ground outside like deep-sea creatures surfacing. You turn to me and ask, "Do you ever think about suicide?" I look away from you and close my eyes, eat the raspberries to confuse the blood in my mouth. Now you're in the only car in the parking lot at midnight and you're watching me throw stones at the moon, which hangs low in the sky so he can look into your house. Your sister tried to touch him from her bedroom window once, and he flinched; now he and the oceans watch her with a quiet concern. The lilac sky is trying to rest her head on his shoulder, all trees gradually growing through her. A hummingbird whispers to you, "Be careful, under her dress is her skin," and then builds his nest in the middle of the highway, I look back at you, and you close your eyes.

I feel it’s time to start a movement for equal, non-discriminatory facilities at discos. I ask, why are there no wheel chairs at Titos? Why can’t they have ‘Geriatric Nites’ as well? We could all go there, take off our dentures and have wild time, while sipping our chicken soup. Come think of it, they could also offer a free dialysis with every drink!

By subsidiarity is meant the principle that responsibilities should be devolved to the lowest viable level – the individual if possible. This stems directly from the Christian concept that the individual is of overriding importance because the individual is unique, born with free will, and is of infi nite value to God. The principle of subsidiarity is therefore rooted in a Christian understanding of the nature of the human person made in the image of God. By solidarity is meant the idea that no man is an island, and that mankind has the need and duty to bind together in common action to achieve aims that cannot be achieved by single individuals. Subsidiarity then requires that the smallest possible level of communality necessary to achieve a particular end should be employed. Action at state level is essentially a last resort.

HE was the one for musical talents. He WAS a guard. What you may call a Guard'an Angel, was Ned.' 'Is he dead?' asked Martin. 'Dead!' replied the other, with a contemptuous emphasis. 'Not he. You won't catch Ned a-dying easy. No, no. He knows better than that.' 'You spoke of him in the past tense,' observed Martin, 'so I supposed he was no more. 'He's no more in England,' said Bill, 'if that's what you mean. He went to the U-nited States.

Instead of fixing the econamy, U.S. "Presedent" (recount pls) Bary Obame is back in the Ovel Office. Hes sitting on the sofa in the midle of pretty inappropriete gmail G-chat with actres Scarlet Johansen. "OK Scarlat, thank you for emailing me so many nude photos. They were very provocetive LOL. And thank you for offer me sex intercorse :)" Obame type, and because its gmail G-chat, the :) make a 90-degree clock wise turn and anamate into a smile emoji. "Good nite.

I have syphilis,” she states, and I choke on the water in my mouth. He smiles at her. “No, you don’t.” She rolls her eyes and rips her arm from his hold, stomping off with a bleach blonde following her. She must belong to Cross because he also follows them, finding an open space at the bar to order drinks away from us. “Man, you must have really fucked up for her to choose an STD over your dick.” Bones laughs, finding too much joy in their exchange. Even Titan can’t hide his laughter, and Nite smiles.

my phone beeped. I took it from my handbag and saw a text message from Dixie. It read: that man is sizzling HOT HOT HOT!!!! truth! I texted back. omg! his accent! his body! im in lurv i noticed! hes a bilf wtf??? boss id like 2 fuk! I snorted out loud with laughter. Heller flicked his cold eyes to me. I wrote: norty girl! ooh! does he like norty asian girls? Another involuntary snort from me. “Ms Chalmers,” he warned. gotta go. my new daddys strict, I texted. spankz for u 2nite! lolz! only if im lucky! c u soon xx - heller 1

There had even been online TV shows about it: computer-generated landscape pictures with deer grazing in Times Square, serves-us-right finger-wagging, earnest experts lecturing about all the wrong turns taken by the human race. There was only so much of that people could stand, judging from the ratings, which spiked and then plummeted as viewers voted with their thumbs, switching from imminent wipeout to real-time contests about hotdog-swallowing if they liked nostalgia, or to sassy-best-girlfriends comedies if they liked stuffed animals, or to Mixed Martial Arts Felony Fights if they liked bitten-off ears, or to Nitee-Nite live-streamed suicides or HottTotts kiddy porn or Hedsoff real-time executions if they were truly jaded. All of it so much more palatable than the truth.

I HAS RITTEN A BOOK AND IT IS SO EXCITING NOBODY CAN PUT IT DOWN. AS SOON AS YOU HAS RED THE FIRST LINE YOU IS SO HOOKED ON IT YOU CANNOT STOP UNTIL THE LAST PAGE. IN ALL THE CITIES PEEPLE IS WALKING IN THE STREETS BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER BECAUSE THEIR FACES IS BURIED IN MY BOOK AND DENTISTS IS READING IT AND TRYING TO FILL TEETHS AT THE SAME TIME BUT NOBODY MINDS BECAUSE THEY IS ALL READING IT TOO IN THE DENTIST’S CHAIR. DRIVERS IS READING IT WHILE DRIVING AND CARS IS CRASHING ALL OVER THE COUNTRY. BRAIN SURGEONS IS READING IT WHILE THEY IS OPERATING ON BRAINS AND AIRLINE PILOTS IS READING IT AND GOING TO TIMBUCTOO INSTEAD OF LONDON. FOOTBALL PLAYERS IS READING IT ON THE FIELD BECAUSE THEY CAN’T PUT IT DOWN AND SO IS OLIMPICK RUNNERS WHILE THEY IS RUNNING. EVERYBODY HAS TO SEE WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT IN MY BOOK AND WHEN I WAKE UP I IS STILL TINGLING WITH EXCITEMENT AT BEING THE GREATEST RITER THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN UNTIL MY MUMMY COMES IN AND SAYS I WAS LOOKING AT YOUR ENGLISH EXERCISE BOOK LAST NITE AND REALLY YOUR SPELLING IS ATROSHUS SO IS YOUR PUNTULASHON.

The following falsifications to be deleted from the proposed language: The IS of identity. You are an animal. You are a body. Now whatever you may be you are not an “animal,” you are not a “body,” because these are verbal labels. The IS of iden­tity always carries the implication of that and nothing else, and it also carries the assignment of permanent condition. To stay that way. All name calling presupposes the IS of identity. This concept is unnecessary in a hieroglyphic language like ancient Egyptian and in fact frequently omitted. No need to say the sun IS in the sky, sun in sky suffices. The verb to be can easily be omitted from any language and the followers of Count Korgybski have done this, eliminating the verb to be in English. However, it is difficult to tidy up the English language by arbitrary exclusion of concepts which remain in force so long as the unchanged language is spoken. The definite article THE. THE contains the implication of one and only: THE God, THE universe, THE way, THE right, THE wrong. If there is another, then THAT universe, THAT way is no longer THE universe, THE way. The defi­ nite article THE will be deleted and the indefinite article A will take its place. The whole concept of EITHER/OR. Right or wrong, physical or mental, true or false, the whole concept of OR will be deleted from the language and replaced by juxtaposi­tion, by AND.

And who knows (there is no saying with certainty), perhaps the only goal on earth to which mankind is striving Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com lies in this incessant process of attaining, in other words, in life itself, and not in the thing to be attained, which must always be expressed as a formula, as positive as twice two makes four, and such positiveness is not life, gentlemen, but is the beginning of death. Anyway, man has always been afraid of this mathematical certainty, and I am afraid of it now. Granted that man does nothing but seek that math- ematical certainty, he traverses oceans, sacri ces his life in the quest, but to succeed, really to nd it, dreads, I assure you. He feels that when he has found it there will be noth- ing for him to look for. When workmen have nished their work they do at least receive their pay, they go to the tavern, then they are taken to the police-station—and there is oc- cupation for a week. But where can man go? Anyway, one can observe a certain awkwardness about him when he has attained such objects. He loves the process of attaining, but does not quite like to have attained, and that, of course, is very absurd. In fact, man is a comical creature; there seems to be a kind of jest in it all. But yet mathematical certainty is a er all, something insu erable. Twice two makes four seems to me simply a piece of insolence. Twice two makes four is a pert coxcomb who stands with arms akimbo bar- ring your path and spitting. I admit that twice two makes four is an excellent thing, but if we are to give everything its due, twice two makes ve is sometimes a very charming thing too. And why are you so rmly, so triumphantly, convinced that only the normal and the positive—in other words, only what is conducive to welfare—is for the advantage of man? Notes from the Underground Is not reason in error as regards advantage? Does not man, perhaps, love something besides well-being? Perhaps he is just as fond of su ering? Perhaps su ering is just as great a bene t to him as well-being? Man is sometimes extraor- dinarily, passionately, in love with su ering, and that is a fact. ere is no need to appeal to universal history to prove that; only ask yourself, if you are a man and have lived at all. As far as my personal opinion is concerned, to care only for well-being seems to me positively ill-bred. Whether it’s good or bad, it is sometimes very pleasant, too, to smash things. I hold no brief for su ering nor for well-being either. I am standing for ... my caprice, and for its being guaran- teed to me when necessary. Su ering would be out of place in vaudevilles, for instance; I know that. In the ‘Palace of Crystal’ it is unthinkable; su ering means doubt, negation, and what would be the good of a ‘palace of crystal’ if there could be any doubt about it? And yet I think man will never renounce real su ering, that is, destruction and chaos. Why, su ering is the sole origin of consciousness. ough I did lay it down at the beginning that consciousness is the great- est misfortune for man, yet I know man prizes it and would not give it up for any satisfaction. Consciousness, for in- stance, is in nitely superior to twice two makes four. Once you have mathematical certainty there is nothing le to do or to understand. ere will be nothing le but to bottle up your ve senses and plunge into contemplation. While if you stick to consciousness, even though the same result is attained, you can at least og yourself at times, and that will, at any rate, liven you up. Reactionary as it is, corporal punishment is better than nothing.

Kyou nite mo kyou natsukashiya… Though in Kyoto, I long for Kyoto…

He say to me but if I free you who will play for me at nite. I say to him I will play for you master Thomas sir. I wont leev you. I will play for you as a free man. He thot about that and he took out some papr and he rote out what he tol me was my freedom paprs and he gav me them with my fiddle. I never let them paprs out o my site. Them papr and my fiddle kept me alive. I beggd him on my hands and nees to let my momma be free too and she wood stay here and hep him. He tol me he coodnt do that. I went to tell momma that I was free. I tol her I was goin to find work after master Thomas past and that I was comin back for her to buy her freedom when I made enuff money from my playing. You no what my momma tol me? She tol me dont Never come back to this place. You go be free and dont you Never look back. Master Thomas died in his Bed. The Missus made me play that song he loved. I lef a few days later. The nex yeer I did come back to find momma but she was Gone. You no why I tol you all this and made you rite it down? Because Master Thomas was a teribl man. He did teribl things to my momma and to my brother and to many other slaves. Even tho he did all that I still lookt him in the eye and treetd him with respekt. No mattr how mad I was. No mattr how bad things got. I was always respektfl. Even when I didnt get no respekt. I dont never want you to forget that girl. I wont

Love is the sweetest yet most complicated emotion in human beings.

But, but…just about every spectacular girl in the world gravitated to Hollywood, hoping to get into pictures. Since only a small percentage succeeded, the town was ridiculously overstocked with ridiculously available young women, all of them working the angles, doing absolutely anything they could to get their moment in the Klieg lights (powerful electric lights, used in filming). Sinatra couldn’t turn a corner without smacking into temptation. He made a $15,000 investment to keep many of such temptations private. With mobster Mickey Cohen he invested in Hollywood Nite Life a weekly gossip magazine run by a low life called Jimmy Tarantino. It was, discreetly, owned by Frank Costello, the boss of the New York Luciano ‘Family’.

A thought nagged him: if Lynn Bracken reported to Patchett in full, he would have yanked his people before the police could bring them in—the way Inge, Bergeron and son disappeared immediately pre–Nite Owl. Two possibles on that—she was playing an angle or their rutting had her confused and she was stalling to figure the upshot. Most likely the former—the woman cut her last confused breath at birth. He could still taste her.

One of Henry Ford’s most outstanding qualities is his habit of reaching decisions quickly and defi­nitely, and changing them slowly. This quality is so pronounced in Mr. Ford, that it has given him the reputation of being obstinate.

your dream its like a treasure and its waiting for you to discovered it.

I'm feeling under the weather. Layin down now. Thinking of you. Hope all is well and hope you have a wonderful evening . Nite!

She drove to the Moonlite All-Nite. It was the same crowd as always, which is to say that there were many of the regulars, and also to say that certain people were always in the Moonlite All-Nite, always at the same booths, always working on plates of food that never seemed to go away. It's a sign of a good diner to have customers who are stuck in time. A well-known rule of eating is that if there are no time-loop customers, the place probably isn't worth even ordering a plate of fries.

With an exalted sense of his place in history, he viewed himself as a potential savior of the republic. He once told a friend, “Perhaps my sensibility is the effect of an exaggerated estimate of my services to the U[nited] States, but on such a subject every man will judge for himself.

If there's something you would like to learn find a book. You'll never be disappointed.

-Ce sa fac, dom'le, ce sa fac? Cine n-are lemne, nu poate picta. Lemnele sunt scumpe. In atelier e totdeauna frig. Natura imi face mizerii: trebuie sa gasesc numai fete rezistente la frig...de obicei, florarese, ca astea sunt obisnuite! Sa bata vantul prin ele, in Piata Sf. Gheorghe, si dupa doi-trei ani de antrenament, le culeg tocmai bune de pictat!...Sint reci, si negre ca pamantul, incat eu cred ca ghioceii cresc chiar din ele, asa cum noua ne creste parul. Ca pictor, bineinteles, eu lucrez cu paltonul pe spinare, dar modelul meu tremura in frigul odaii. Ei, bine, n-am inima de piatra pe care mi-o presupui: cand o vad invinetita artistic, mi se face mila de ea si o invit in pat, unde am datoria sa ma ocup de caloriile ei! ...O tratez cu un ceai fierbinte, cu biscuiti, sau cu nite miezuri de nuca, prajite pe resou, sau cu etcetera...dar etcetera mai rar! La plecare, imi lasa florile nevandute! Unele sunt de coloare vinetie...juri ca sunt de liliac-batut... -Fetele sau florile? -Toate! Cand pictez un nud violet, mi se reproseaza ca pictez fantezist! Habar n-au de realitate criticii astia! Toate fetele pe care le pictez sunt violete! Natura le face suprarealiste, nu eu!

This world is a place of busi­ness. What an in­fi­nite bus­tle! ...I think that there is noth­ing, not even crime, more op­posed to po­et­ry, to phi­los­o­phy, ay, to life it­self, than this in­ces­sant busi­ness.

Heaven, the angels and saints, and God Himself, are so infinitely above our experience, that God Himself must prepare us for this infinite light. The modernist and charismatic movements of today, as well as the numerous Protestant sects, have the sad merit of trying to destroy the true understanding of God’s infinite MAJESTY. If the children already tremble before an Angel appearing to them from quite far away, what must it be like to be before God Himself, the Creator of an almost inf i nite number of angels? We are accustomed to talk to Jesus almost as we would talk to a colleague, and to approach our Lady like a nice, beautiful mother. We complain to them as if they are just a lit t le bit more than we are. If St. John falls on his knees before an angel because of his majesty; if the apparition of Saints made people fall on the ground, not having the courage to look into their eyes, how much this behaviour of deepest reverence differs from ours. Therefore, we have to learn again to behave properly before the supernatural realities. Otherwise, we will never really meet them.

If there are whole parts of yourself that you are always running from, that you even feel justified in running from, then you’re going to run from anything that brings you into contact with your feelings of insecurity. And have you noticed how often these parts of ourselves get touched? The closer you get to a situation or a person, the more these feelings arise. Often when you’re in a relationship it starts off great, but when it gets intimate and begins to bring out your neurosis, you just want to get out of there. So I’m here to tell you that the path to peace is right there, when you want to get away. You can cruise through life not letting anything touch you, but if you really want to live fully, if you want to enter into life, enter into genuine relationships with other people, with animals, with the world situa-tion, you’re def i nitely going to have the ex-perience of feeling provoked, of getting hooked, of shenpa. You’re not just going to feel bliss. The message is that when those feelings emerge, this is not a failure. This is the chance to cultivate maitri, unconditional friendliness toward your perfect and imperfect self.

Seeing my friends smiling and laughing, I was grateful to be back in the mortal world. There were multiple candles nailed upside down to the ceiling, and my comrades were standing on chairs, lighting them. Then all the lights in the room were turned off, and we lay back as the candlewax began to drip from the ceiling, the ever-flowing waterfalls of little balls of fire lighting up an infi- nite blackness. We watched the fire fall from the great beyond, comforted by the fiery comet trails, talking until daylight.

yeh. billie. if someone had love u like u shud have been loved ain't no tellin what kinds of songs u wud have swung gainst this country's wite mind. or what kinds of lyrics wud have pushed us from our blue / nites. yeh. billie. if some blk / man had reallee made u feel permanentlee warm. ain't no tellen where the jazz of yo/songs wud have led us.

length cock.   Yes sir, I was excited as hell and felt unusually horny when Jack began to bone my cunt.

This powdered supplement, called Nite-works, is the only product I am aware of on the market with the proper amounts of L-arginine and L-citrulline, thereby enabling the full synergistic effects of the Say Yes to NO program.

hey asshole u r missing a good time 2nite! Caleb’s text was time-stamped from an hour and a half ago. u still up? Mikah typed. u aren’t going to believe this shit. THE GUY is asleep in my bed right now. Mikah wasn’t sure that Caleb would still be awake, but it was only a moment before the screen lit up again. OMFG YOU SLUT! the message read. tell me EVERYTHING!!!!!!! not much 2 tell, Mikah typed. this is insane. still don’t even know his name. SCANDALOUS! A few long moments passed before Caleb continued. sry, hot trick @the bar. hard 2 focus. FOCUS! Mikah replied. I need help here. what do I do? Caleb’s response was quicker this time. Idk check his fucking pants for his DL. g2g, about to get some dick. night. xoxo

Okay. Nite! , Mia wrote.

She deserved someone… more cultured, in my opinion. I was being petty, yes, but I was allowed a moment of immaturity now and again, and Carissa Swain wore outfits that left little to the imagination and tweeted things like, “Gettin’ lit tooo-nite.

He once told a friend, “Perhaps my sensibility is the effect of an exaggerated estimate of my services to the U[nited] States, but on such a subject every man will judge for himself.

Ladies Nite E ery Nite.” Virgil spent the next few seconds of his life wondering if the “v” had fallen off, been stolen for some reason, or was simply a scarce letter that the bar hadn’t happened to have on hand.

A nite or so after I went in Nick’s again and was having a cup of coffee and once more I heard somebody out in the kitchen yell “right” and a couple minutes later out came a jelly omlet and once more Nick looked at me and said could I eat a jelly omlet and I said I could force one and he assured me that there was nothing phony about it but go ahead and eat it and it was as good a jelly omlet as any jelly omlet I ever ate.

nite, rain, love, longing - kepekaan ku ketika mencintaimu

If there's something you would like to learn find a book, I'll never disappointed.

Every SEED contains a Tree.No seed no harvest, no sowing no reaping, if u talk of day is 'cos there is nite. Seed-time comes before harvest.

If there's something you would like to learn find a book, You'll never be disappointed.

I close the book and text Livia back. Okay, Fern Woman. I’ll meet you at 8. Then I add, Are you super sure about the Nite’s Inn? She responds right away. I’ll see you then, and I’m very sure. I’m doing this on a public servant’s budget! And it’s close to a Steak’n Shake, so you know it’s in a good neighborhood. ...Liv. Kitten. They found a body in that Steak’n Shake’s dumpster last year. One body and all of a sudden it’s a ‘bad’ place. You are so judgey! I, for one, won’t be scared away by that one tiny thing. I like to see the best in places. My radio goes off in my ear—a senior is causing a disturbance at a nursing home and they need all available units to respond. With a rueful smile to myself at my idealistic little librarian, I send her a final message and then climb out of my car. See you tonight, Livvy-girl. Don’t get thrown into a dumpster before I get there. Even though I was mostly joking about the Murder Steak’n Shake, I get to the Nite’s Inn half an hour early so that I can be extra sure she’s not in the parking lot alone

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Nigga, you trickin’?” Nite jested. “Big trickin’,” Dai grinned.