Orb On The Movements Quotes

Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

The world yearns. This is its sure gravity: the attraction of bodies. Earth for molten star. Moon for earth. A hand for the orb of a breast. This is its movement too: the motion of desire, of a longing toward.

Daybreak. Pope Pius II watches a fiery orb crest the Tiber. His mind drifts. He recalls that Aristotle’s student Callippus once computed the seasons’ duration, measuring the sun’s movement within its ethereal sphere.

His was the sort of physical beauty that attracted even as any great work of art ensnared the eye. One did not have to wish to own such a creation, often it was enough just to study and appreciate it. Only a little above average height, his form was well proportioned and well muscled, with not an extra jot of flesh. He had a fencer’s easy play of movement. But it was his face that first and last attached the eye. It was a lean countenance, the ivory white skin so taut across the fine bone structure as to appear to have been stretched to fit. Feature by feature, it was not a classic visage, but the sum more than compensated for the parts. His cheekbones were high and perhaps too pronounced. The nose was straight, a trifle too long and thin, the mouth not at all the full, plump standard of Greek statuary, for while well cut it was thin as well, and bore at times a half-quirked, sensuous smile. The eyes were long and almond-shaped and pulled down slightly at the corners, rather than tilting upward in classical fashion. But despite the astonishing thick, bright-silver-tipped gilt hair and slightly darker brows, it was the eyes that one’s gaze returned to again and again. From afar, or even in shadow, Lord North’s eyes were unexceptional save for their keen expression. But in clear light and up close it could be seen that they were extraordinary. For to speak with the nobleman from his right side, one would look for answer in his grave gray eye. Yet to approach him from the left, one would seek response from his cool blue orb. His eyes were not so dissimilar as to shock, but seeing him once, the viewer would be troubled by some nagging discrepancy and turn to search his face until his varicolored eyes were at last discovered, and the viewer amazed and enchanted. To see him once was to remember him forever, to hear his name was to recall him instantly. His reputation was as varied and colorful as his strange countenance. He was said to be a libertine, he was whispered to be beyond mere libertine.

To summarize my ORB Strategy: After I build my watchlist in the morning, I closely monitor the shortlisted stocks in the first five minutes after the Open. I identify their opening range and their price action. How many shares are being traded? Is the stock jumping up and down or does it have a directional upward or downward movement? Is it high volume with large orders only, or are there many orders going through? I prefer stocks that have high volume, but also with numerous different orders being traded. If the stock has traded 1 million shares, but those shares were only ten orders of 100,000 shares each, it is not a liquid stock to trade. Volume alone does not show the liquidity; the number of orders being sent to the exchange is as important. The opening range must be significantly smaller than the stock’s Average True Range (ATR). I have ATR as a column in my Trade Ideas scanner. After the close of the first five minutes of trading, the stock may continue to be traded in that opening range in the next five minutes. But, if I see the stock is breaking the opening range, I enter the trade according to the direction of the breakout: long for an upward breakout and short for a downward move. My stop loss is a close below VWAP for the long positions and a break above VWAP for the short positions. My profit target is the next important technical level, such as: (1) important intraday daily levels that I identify in the pre-market, (2) moving averages on a daily chart, and/or (3) previous day close. If there was no obvious technical level for the exit and profit target, I exit when a stock shows signs of weakness (if I am long) or strength (if I am short). For example, if the price makes a new 5-minute low, that means weakness, and I consider selling my position if I am long. If I am short and the stock makes a new 5-minute high, then it could be a sign of strength and I consider covering my short position. My strategy above was for a 5-minute ORB, but the same process will also work well for 15-minute or 30-minute ORBs.

Kevin chuckled and walked over to his bike. He put up the kickstand and grabbed the handles. It was time to head home. “Nya.” Blink. “Nya?” “Nya.” Blink. Blink. Kevin looked at the wall near the distribution building—and nearly squealed upon spotting the small, cute, adorably furry animal sitting on its haunches. A black cat with big yellow eyes stared at him. Its tail swayed behind it, moving left, then right. It opened its mouth, releasing another one of those utterly endearing, if unusual, “nya” sounds. This cat reminds me of the one that I took home with me when I was in elementary school. It even nyas. How cool is that? “Kitty!” Like a child who’d just seen a new toy on Christmas Day, Kevin dropped his bike and went over to the cat, whose large incandescent orbs had yet to leave his face. He reached the feline in record time, and his hand was quick to descend upon its head. The cat didn’t seem to mind. Indeed, it reveled in the attention, purring as he gently scratched behind its left ear, which twitched with minute movements.

That Washer guy is gross,” Tory Vega’s voice caught my attention and my head snapped sideways as I spotted her and Darcy walking down the path with Geraldine Grus in tow. “He’s the most bothersome babbalumbaduke I ever saw,” Geraldine agreed. Tory rolled her eyes, looking away from her, clearly not enjoying the girl’s company nor in any mood to indulge it. And I knew exactly why. Darcy on the other hand, gave Geraldine a polite smile and answered her. Ever the sweetheart. You won’t be so sweet when you embrace your inner Fae, Blue. “What’s a babbalumba-thing?” Darcy frowned and Geraldine flapped her arms and gasped like someone had just dropped dead in front of her. “You haven’t heard of a babbalumbaduke!? My queen-” “Darcy,” she interjected and my brows arched at her dismissal of the royalist’s bullshit. “Pish-posh!” Geraldine waved a hand. “A babbalumbaduke is the most creepsome creature you can imagine. It crawls from sewers and pulls unsuspecting virgins into its grasp, never to let go. The legend says it feasts upon their innocent flesh with nothing but its two-pronged armensprout.” “To be fair, that does sound like Washer,” Tory said with a smirk. “Yeah, but what’s an armensprout?” Darcy wrinkled her nose and my lips twitched up at the corner at how fucking cute she looked. Then I murdered that lip twitch and gritted my jaw, replacing the curiosity within me about her with a healthy dose of hatred. She was a Vega. Their name alone was a curse on this land. “My good lady!” Geraldine wailed. They were close now, about to pass me by on the path as they circled The Orb, probably headed for dinner. “An armensprout is a dilly dongle. A war-willy wingle. A goblin of the grouse. A terrible Leroy.” “A dick?” Tory guessed and a snort escaped my lips that made Darcy’s head snap around to look into the trees. My heart bolted up into my throat even though I knew she couldn’t see me. But I swear her eyes found my fucking soul anyway. “Wait, that monster thing eats people with its dick?” Darcy snorted. “Why yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Geraldine guffawed. Darcy suddenly tripped over her own feet and almost went flying to the ground, but my fingers flicked and I cast air magic before I knew what I was even doing, catching her so she didn’t hit the ground. She looked confused as hell and Tory chuckled, linking her arm through hers and pulling her along. What the fuck did I just do? I’d just spent the past ten minutes tripping up students and Darcy hadn’t even had her shirt tucked in. So why hadn’t I taken the opportunity to send her flying into the mud? “Come on, clumsy butt,” Tory said and Darcy laughed. “Are you okay, my sweet lady?” Geraldine gasped, hovering around her and Darcy’s cheeks pinked as she waved her away. “Yup, just hungry,” she said brightly and the only way I could describe Geraldine’s next movement was a high-kneed gallop as she beckoned the girls after her down the path. “Make way – make way!” she cried at the other students, blasting some of them off the path with her water magic. “The true queens are coming through!” Tory whispered in Darcy’s ear and I tuned my senses on them to catch it. “Do you think we can outrun her if we turn back and skip dinner?” “No chance. Look at those legs go,” Darcy said and they both fell into silent laughter, leaning on each other, their bond shining clearly between them. (Orion POV)

MIT physicist Seth Lloyd supports the idea of other worldly portals in his book Programming the Universe. Quantum mechanics has proven that an electron is not only allowed to be in two places at once—it is required to be. Certain particles not only spin in two directions at the same time, but have to do so.21 At really high speeds, atoms require more information to describe their movements, and therefore they have more entropy.22 However, an observer affects the outcome of whatever he or she is observing. As explained in the book The Orb Project, the effect of the observer on the quantum field causes reality to reorganize according to the observation. This means that a newly observed reality descends through the frequency levels below the quantum, becoming dense in material reality.23 The nonobserved information becomes “lost” if it doesn’t qualify as “real” or desirable to the observer. It is not eliminated; instead, the not-selected potential slips into a pocket of “elsewhere.” Conceivably, we can get it back. As Lloyd explains, we can access lost data by “flipping a qubit,” a code phrase that means we can apply a magnetic field to force energy to shift from one state to another.24 We have established that the subtle layer is atop the physical and that the etheric layer of subtle energies is magnetic in nature. Could it be that the information we cannot find—perhaps, the data that could make a sick person well—is lingering a plane above us? We’ve one more law to face: the third law of thermodynamics. Experiments with absolute zero provide a new perspective on it, one that coaxes an understanding of subtle energy. Absolute zero is the point at which particles have minimum energy, called zero-point energy. Researchers including Dr. Hal Puthoff have identified this zero-point energy with zero-point field, a mesh of light that encompasses all of reality. (This field is further explained in Part III.) This field of light is a vacuum state, but it is not empty; rather, it is a sea of electromagnetic energy, and possibly, virtual particles—ideas that can become real. Conceivably, energy should stand completely still at absolute zero, which would mean that information would become permanently imprisoned. Research on zero-point energy, however, reveals that nearing zero-point, atomic motion stops, but energy continues. This means that “lost information” is not really lost. Even when frozen, it continues to “vibrate” in the background. The pertinent questions are these: How do we “read” this background information? How do we apply it? These queries are similar to those we might ask about “hidden” information. How do we access suppressed but desirable data? The answers lie in learning about subtle structures, for these dwell at the interfaces between the concrete and the higher planes. Operate within the subtle structures, and you can shift a negative reality to a positive one, without losing energy in the process.

As the fierce battle raged on between Prince Assad and the soldiers, the small puddle nestled amidst the underbrush continued to mirror the night sky and the radiant moon. Its surface rippled gently, distorting the celestial reflection and adding an entrancing aura to the scene. Within the puddle's depths, a bright, luminescent orb seemed suspended in the water's embrace, mirroring the moon's radiance. Amidst the enchanting dance of ripples in the puddle, Dilaram, Princess Mehjabeen's loyal companion emerged, took a deep breath, and made a daring decision. She knew the danger that Prince Assad faced in the relentless battle with the soldiers, and her love and loyalty to the princess drove her to act. With her heart pounding, Dilaram raised her delicate hands and began whispering an incantation, her words imbued with ancient magic. Dilaram's incantation, born from the depths of her love and loyalty to Princess Mehjabeen, was a powerful spell that wove together the mystical forces of Tilsim Hoshruba. It was an incantation that had been passed down through generations of enchantresses, carefully guarded and used only in the direst of circumstances. The incantation itself was a blend of ancient words and intricate hand movements, a delicate dance of both spoken and unspoken magic. As Dilaram whispered the words and traced the patterns in the air, the spell took form: "By the moon's radiant light, by the heart's unwavering might, In the name of love, in the name of fate, Create for him an unseen gate." As Dilaram continued her chant, the magic came to life. It created a shimmering tunnel amidst the swampy underbrush. Prince Assad, still embroiled in combat, continued to face the soldiers with unwavering determination. His every strike was a testament to his prowess as a skilled warrior. Dilaram's incantation worked like a silent, invisible wind. It pulled Prince Assad away from the battlefield and into the concealed tunnel she had created. The soldiers, bewildered by his sudden disappearance, exchanged confused glances, their swords raised and ready. Within the concealed tunnel, Prince Assad was transported to safety, away from the immediate danger of the soldiers' blades. As he stepped into this mystical passage, the world around him shifted, and he found himself hidden from view. Dilaram's work was not done yet. Her incantation had created the gate, and now she whispered another set of words: "Through the veil of night, beyond the soldiers' sight, Guide him to where he'll be free, under the moon's decree." This incantation was designed to lead Prince Assad to a safe location, away from the soldiers' pursuit. It was as if the night itself had become his protector, guiding him to a place where he could regroup and remain hidden. With her final words, the portal shimmered and then vanished, leaving no trace of its existence. Dilaram, her heart heavy with concern for Prince Assad, disappeared inside the puddle, from where she had initiated the spell. She knew that the fate of both Prince Assad and Princess Mehjabeen hung in the balance, and the path they would choose was a destiny intertwined with the enigmatic realm of Tilsim Hoshruba.

On December 7, 1972, the Apollo 17 astronauts took a photograph of a gibbous Earth at a distance of eighteen thousand miles from its surface. The photograph showed the planet, partially obscured by swirling clouds, floating all alone like a blue glass marble in the vast, black infinity of outer space. This historic image, dubbed the Blue Marble, became a symbol of the environmental movement and caused a profound shift in the way people conceived of the planet, shrinking it from something incomprehensibly immense and awesome into a fragile, lonely orb that you could cradle in the palm of your hand or crush beneath a careless heel.