Ot Quotes

But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have ot believe in love stories and prince charmings and happily ever after. That's why I write these songs. Because I think love is FEARLESS.

In theory, when yoou're done with training, you should be able ot kick a hole in a wall or eknock out a moose with a single punch." "I would never hit a moose," said Clary. "They're endangered.

At the end of the hall stood a walnut door with a bronze plaque: ASCLEPIUS MD, DMD, DME, DC, DVS, FAAN, OMG, EMT, TTYL, FRCP, ME, IOU, OD, OT, PHARMD, BAMF, RN, PHD, INC., SMH There may have been more acronyms in the list, but by that point Leo's brain had exploded.

I don't like you. I don't like how your hair smells, and how I can't stop thinking about waking up and seeing your face. I hate how my bed felt empty when you left. I don't like how good you were with my family, especially Harper, and how I wanted ot see you with them again, but not just as a guest. As a member. You're right. I don't like you at all.

Ya lyublyu tebya. Tak sil’no chto ne mogu dumat’ kogda ty daleko ot menya.” I love you. So much I can’t think when you’re away from me.

People who say not to speak ill of the dead are hypocrites, because you can take it ot the bank they're thinking ill.

Caroline had a theory about relationships. 'You're much happier when you wait," she used to tell me. 'The ones that come to you are the only ones worth anything. It's like standing on the shore and spotting something in the water. You can splash around and try to get it, ot you can wait and see if the tide brings it in.

She blew a stream of smoke up at the empty clotheslines. 'These silly dreams you have when you're young. I mean, what, Katie and Brendan Harris were going ot make a life in Las Vegas? How long would that little Eden have lasted? Maybe they'd be on their second trailer park, second kid, but it would have hit them sooner or later - life isn't happily ever after and golden sunsets and shit like that. It's work. The person you love is rarely worthy of how big your love is. Because no one is worthy of that and maybe no one deserves the burden of it, either. You'll be let down. You'll be disappointed and have your trust broken and have a lot of real sucky days. You lose more than you win. You hate the person you love as much as you love him. But, shit, you roll up your sleeves and work - at everything -because that's what growing older is.

Dost olacak, düşman olacak, sonuna kadar, köküne kadar dost, düşman olabilecek insan soyu tükendi. Şu ot gibi yaşayanlar, beşe alıp da ona satanlar ne dost olabilirler iliklerine kadar, sırılsıklam, ne düşman olabilirler ölümüne.

At the ed of the hall stood a walnut door with a bronze plaque: ASCLEPIUS MD, DMD, DME, DC, DVS, FAAN, OMG, EMT, TTYL, FRCP, ME, IOU, OD, OT, PHARMD, BAMF, RN, PHD, INC., SMH There may have been more acronyms in the list, but by that point Leo's brain had exploded.

I don't need a man to be happy. I had a great one , that was good enough. I don't expect to find another one like him, and why settle for anything less? I'm going ot be perfectly content alone.--Marya

Finn, do you see the lias—whatever, the orange-haired girl?” Razo Gestured ahead. “Do you think she’s pretty?” Finn glanced Dasha’s way, then returned his attention ot his horse. “She’s all right.” “Really? Just all right?” Finn shrugged. Razo rolled his eyes. “What am I saying? He doesn’t think any girl is pretty but Enna.” “Are there any girls but Enna?” Finn called back. “There’d better be.

Any idiot can stand in front of a target," I say. "It doesn't prove anything except that you're bullying us. Which, as I recall is a sign of cowardice" "Then it should be easy for you," Eric sys. "If you're willing ot take his place.

Snylrem stnemilpmoc ot enutpen dna lliw eh yldnik tpecca siht yob sa a hsif?

It's a shame that we humans are never able to pull in the same direction . . . [n]ot even when confronted by infinity.

The most difficult part ot traditional taekwondo is not learning the first kick or punch. It is not struggling to remember the motions of a poomsae or becoming aquainted with Korean culture. Rather, it is taking the first step across the threshold of the dojang door. This is where roads diverge, where choices are made that will resonate throughout a lifetime.

Seventeen moons, seventeen years, Eyes where Dark ot Light appears, Gold for yes and Green for no, Seventeen the last to know... Seventeen moons, seventeen turns, Eyes so dark and bright it burns, Time is high but one is higher, Draws the moon into the fire... Seventeen moon, seventeen fears, Pain of death and shame of tears, Find the marker, walk the mile, Seventeen knows just exile... Seventeen moons, seventeen spheres, The moon before her time appears, Hearts will go and stars will follow, One is broken, One is hollow... Seventeen moons, seventeen years Know the loss, stay the fears Wait for him and he appears Seventeen moons, seventeen tears...

Everyone talks about snows forty foot deep, and how the ice wind comes howling out of the north, but the real enemy is the cold. It steals up on you quieter than Will, and at first you shiver and your teeth chatter and you stamp your feet and dream of mulled wine and nice hot fires. It burns, it does. Nothing burns like the cold. But only for a while. Then it gets inside you and starts to fill you up, and after a while you don't have the strength to fight it. It's easier just to sit down ot go to sleep. They say you don't feel any pain toward the end. First you go weak and drowsy, and everything starts to fade, and then it's like sinking into a sea of warm milk. Peaceful, like.

Just Because something ends dosent mean that it's a bad thing or that someones bound to get hurt,ot that it never shold have happend in the first place or whatever. But If each step brings us to the next how can we grow if we avoid everything that can hurt us?? We pretty much have no choice but to get out there and hope for the best and who knows we may even learn a thing or two on the way

As the sun and each atom of ether is a shphere complete in itself, yet at the same time only a part of a whole too vast for man to comprehend, so each individual bears within himself his own purpose, yet bears it ot serve a general purpose unfathomable to man.

There are growing domestic social and economic problems, in fact, maybe catastrophes. Nobody in power has any intention of doing anything about them. If you look at the domestic programs of the administrations of the past ten years-I include here the Democratic opposition-there's really no serious proposal about what to do about the severe problems of health, education, homelessness, joblessness, crime, soaring criminal populations, jails, deterioration in the inner cities - the whole raft of problems... In such circumstances you've got to divert the bewildered herd, because if they start noticing this they may not like it, since they're the ones suffering from it. Just having them watch the Superbowl and the sitcoms may not be enough. You have to whip them up into fear of enemies. In the 1930s Hitler whipped them into fear of the Jews and gypsies. You had to crush them to defend yourselves. We have our ways, too. Over the last ten years, every year ot two, some major monster is constructed that we have to defend ourselves against.

I'd see him do things that didn't fit with his face or hands, things like painting a picture at OT with real paints on a blank paper with no lines or numbers anywhere on it to tell him where to paint, or like writing letters to somebody in a beautiful flowing hand. How could a man who looked like him paint pictures or write letters to people, or be upset and worried like I saw him once when he got a letter back?

You look ho-ot. Sure you don’t wanna drop this vampire business and join the Pack? We’ve got better . . . insurance.

Why Alexia that is quite beautiful. It does ot reflect your customary taste at all approved Miss Hisselpenny with glee. Trust Ivy to like the hideous thing for it's looks.

(N)ot everything fits easily into our systems of classification. The world might be, it turns out, too complicated for us to know.

The real winners in life are the people who look at every situation with an expectation that they can make it work ot make it better.

But she had felt since childhod that her life would n ot be ordinary. A moment would come- she would know it when she saw it- and everything would change.

(N)ot writing was hard work, almost as hard as writing.

Maybe I could... secretly fix a trailer onto the car when Luke ins't looking? Ot maybe I could wear all my clothes, on top of each other, and say I'm feeling a bit chilly...

No, she knows you're here. She can see through the camouflage. But I think she's hiding something from me, and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Never mind. Just listen. Once she drinks the tea, she will try ot surprise me with something. She is waiting for the contrast to be fully in effect before she says anything. I knew I never should have let you watch The Wizard of Oz.

...[T]hou knowest not the heart of woman... [N]ot in thy fiercest battles hast thou displayed more of thy vaunted courage than has been shown by woman when called upon to suffer by affection or duty.

Na przykład. Obudziłem się. Chcę wstać. Chcę wstać. Co to znaczy. Jest taki czas, że chcę wstać, a nie wstaję. Bo skoro wstaję, to nie "chcę"; ot, wstaję. Wstałem. A tu nie. Chcę. Co to za granica? Co takiego oddziela "chcę" od "robię"? Co za dziwny bufor intencji? Nie ciało. Nie niemoc fizyczna. Nie niedowład woli. (Bo CHCĘ!) Dlaczego zatem chcę, a nie wstaję? (Chcę, a nie pracuję. Chcę, a nie idę. Chcę, a nie jem. Chcę, a nie mówię. Na przykład.) Nawet jeśli tylko przez chwilę, przez sekundę, ułamek. Jak nazwać ów ośrodek, który stawia mi opór? Dla pływaka jest to woda. Dla dżdżownicy - ziemia. Dla jonu - pole elektromagnetyczne. A dla woli - co? Coś. Przeciwchcenie. Nolensum.

Well, let me make something perfectly clear (as Richard Nixon says on those old news clips about the Watergate scandal, right before he's about to fill the room with fog)I am not immortal. I've spent more than ten hours in the psych ward with Sarah Byrnes--really and truly the toughest person in our solar system--and I'll tell you what, if life can shoot Sarah Byrnes ot of the sky, it can nail me blindfolded.

E Concrematio. Confirmatio--out ot the fire comes firmness, through stress we pass to strength.

⸢t l s 1 2 3⸥ ⸢Y o u ca nn ot cha nge th is sto ry⸥

The librarian, whom I had never seen before, presided over the library like a watchdog, one of those poor dogs who are deliberately made vicious by being chained up and given little to eat; ot better, like the old, toothless cobra, pale because of centuries of darkness, who guards the king's treasure in the Jungle Book. Paglietta, poor woman, was little less than a lusus naturae: she was small, without breasts or hips, waxen, wilted, and monstrously myopic; she wore glasses so thick and concave that, looking at her head-on, her eyes, light blue, almost white, seemed very far away, stuck at the back of her cranium. She gave the impression of never having been young, although she was certainly not more than thirty, and of having been born there, in the shadows, in that vague odor of mildew and stale air.

You know what you have to do, Matthew." Darkness began to close around him, until all he could see was the head ot the deer. The deer and something beyond... "Do it Matthew," the voice whisperd. "Do it for me...

Persevere, v. Those first few weeks, after you told me, I wasn`t sure we were going to make it. After working for so long on being sure of each other, sure of this thing, suddenly we were unsure again. I didn`t know whether or ot to touch you, sleep with you, have sex with you. Finally, I said, “It`s over.” You started to cry, and I quickly said, “No – I mean this part is over. We have to get to the next part.

Jis vis kartojo: ot gaila, kad neloši! Ot gaila, kad bijai rizikuot! Ot, ot, ot! Nė nenujautė, kaip aš lošiu ir rizikuoju - kasdien, kasdien, kasdien!

Is it responsibility or blame that bothers you?" "I don't want blame." "Sometimes responsibility is worse. It doesn't carry any pleasant egotism." "I was thinking about that time when Sam Hamilton and you and I had a long discussion about a word," said Adam. "What was that word?" "Now I see. The word was timshel." "Timshel-and you said-" "I said that word carried a man's greatness if he wanted to take advantage of it." "I remember Sam Hamilton felt good about it." "It set him free," said Lee. "It gave him the right ot be a man, seperate from every other man." "That's lonely." "All great and precious things are lonely.

Oh come on, smile. Lisa, Jack... being bisexual is hardly a crime. Best of both worlds, isn't it?' And Ianto pushed her away. 'No,Gwen. No, really it's bloody not. It's the worst of any world because you don't really belong anywhere, because you are never sure of yourself ot those around you. You can't trust in anyone, their motives or their intentions. And because of that, you have, in a world that likes its shiny labels, no true identity.

Nyet. I can’t say this in English.” His gaze flickered with conflict, like this wasn’t easy for him to vocalize. “Say what?” The fire, the turmoil, the truth in his eyes—it told me everything, and my heart floated in my chest. I ran my thumb across the scar on his bottom lip. “Ya lyublyu tebya . . . Those words?” Then I realized he’d probably never said them. I’d even bet he’d never heard them either. The knowledge constricted my chest. “Ya lyublyu tebya,” I said softly. “So much.” His grip on my throat tightened possessively while my caress across his lips grew softer. I didn’t need the words from him. I didn’t want to make him feel as if he had to say something he wasn’t comfortable with. “You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to—” “Fuck, woman.” He pulled me in to kiss me deeply—just to shut me up, I think. Still, I sighed into his mouth, heat washing to my toes. I went in for more, but he pulled back and skimmed his lips across mine. “Ya lyublyu tebya. Tak sil’no chto ne mogu dumat’ kogda ty daleko ot menya.” I love you. So much I can’t think when you’re away from me.

Bo przykro, gdy ktoś kopnie to, co ty kochasz. A ludzie teraz i niecierpliwi, i roztargnieni, i często mówią wcale nie to, co chcą, i robią wcale nie to, co chcą, a ot tak, co zdarzy się akurat.

Liam's lips tightened. "She's only a little girl. She doesn't know anything about swords. What if she cuts herself? It's sharp, right?" "Of course it is sharp, Liam. What would be the point ot having a sword that wasn't?

New Rule: America has every right ot bitch about gas prices suddenly shooting up. How could we have known? Oh, wait, there was that teensy, tiny thing about being warned constantly over the last forty years but still creating more urban sprawl, failing to build public transport, buying gas-guzzlers, and voting for oil company shills. So, New Rule: Shut the fuck up about gas prices.

Yes,I'm seeing someone," Nick said. Standing beside them but hardly acknowledging them.He was watching for my answer on his phone. "For how long?" a woman asked. "Four years," I heard him say. "Aww!" I squealed. Then I turned to Chloe. "Do I want to be in People?" "No," she said firmly. "Nick is ot." Gavin frowned and poked her in the side. "Hey." She ducked away from his finger. "Facts are facts. Nick is hot,and when girls read People and see he's dating you,they will call you a skank ho. You and I have mooned over Prince William. We know the deal.

They antagonised Julian Assange over six lines from OT VII and he ended up releasing 612 pages’ worth of all the OT levels. In

Man, teachers and cops and their part-time jobs. We do the heavy lifting for society, and we still need OT gigs. Nothing ever changes, does it?” Willoughby

[N]ot getting what you want forces you to appreciate what you already have.

And you... Oh, no. And you read them?" (Madeline) He opened his mouth ot reply. "Of course you read them," she said, cutting him of. "You couldn't be here if you hadn't." Logan didn't know whether to be annoyed or grateful that she kept completing his side of the conversation.

All night i have been making songs for you in my head. A lay for your eyes, a ballad for your lips, a duet to your breasts. I will ot sing them, through. They were poor things, unworthy of such beauty.

Whether the vessel is a legal document or a rap song, language is often chosen ot exclude. To use a scholarly phrase, "discourse communities" are often gated,so it's the good writer's job to offer readers a set of keys.

Ot, schodzi się kilku poważnych — och, jak poważnych! — panów, którzy, wchodząc do sali obrad, starają się pilnie zapomnieć o tym, że są ludźmi, że tam, za oknami gabinetu, huczy i pędzi życie, że to, co oni piszą na papierze, to jest pisane na ludzkiej skórze, że to, co dla nich jest przedmiotem kontrowersji prawniczej, jest dla innych nieraz kwestią życia i śmierci. I pichcą sobie od niechcenia te prawa, a to co oni upichcą, w tym potem męczą się całe pokolenia.

But in fanfiction anything was fair game. If we could turn protagonists into vampires, bounty hunters, or elves, we could sure as heck turn them homosexual, bisexual, asexual or any ot he wonderful, beautiful in-betweens. Characters slid all over the rainbow. And through fanfiction I learned about identities like transgendered, genderfluid, and demisexual.

Söylemeye çalıştığım şey şu: Burası Amerika. Otuz bir çekmekle başlarsınız, grup sekse kadar ilerlersiniz. Önce biraz ot içersiniz, sonra eroine terfi edersiniz. Kültürümüz böyle; daha büyük, daha iyi, daha güçlü, daha hızlı. Anahtar kelime: ilerleme.

There is no doubt that these legendary gentlemen were capable of experiencing, even to an intense degree, the sensation of fear--otherwise they would have been much calmer, and would ot have made the sense of danger into a necessity of their nature. No, but overcoming their own cowardice--that of course, was what tempted them. A ceaseless reveling in victory and the awareness that no one can be victorious over you--that was what attracted them.

You simply do not understand the human condition,” said the robot. Hah! Do you think you do, you conceited hunk of animated tin?” Yes, I believe so, thanks ot my study of the authors, poets, and critics who devote their lives to the exploration and description of Man. Your Miss Forelle is a noble soul. Ever since I looked upon my first copy of that exquisitely sensitive literary quarterly she edits, I have failed to understand what she sees in you. To be sure,” IZK-99 mused, “the relationship is not unlike that between the nun and the Diesel engine in Regret for Two Doves, but still… At any rate, if Miss Forelle has finally told you to go soak your censored head in expurgated wastes and then put the unprintable thing in an improbable place, I for one heartily approve. Tunny, who was no mamma’s boy — he had worked his way through college as a whale herder and bossed construction gangs on Mars — was so appalled by the robot’s language that he could only whisper, “She did not. She said nothing of the sort.” I did not mean it literally,” IZK-99 explained. “I was only quoting the renunciation scene in Gently Come Twilight. By Stichling, you know — almost as sensitive a writer as Brochet.

He might have hurt me a little,' Atticus conceded, 'but sn, you'll understand folks a little better when you're older. A mob's always made up of people, no matter what. Mr Cunnignham was part of a mob last night, but he ws still a man.Every mob in every little Souhern town is always made up of people you know - doesn't say much for them, does it?' 'I'll say ot, ' said Jem. 'So it took an eight-year-old child to bring 'em to their senses, didn't it?' said Atticus. 'That proves something - that a gang of wild animals can be stopped, simply because they're still human. Hmp, maybe we need a police force of children.

Let me advise you, then, to form the habit to take some of your solitude with you into society, to learn to be to some extent alone even though you are in company; not to say at once what you think, and, on the other hand, not to attach too precise a meaning to what others say; rather, not ot expect much of them, either morally or intellectually, and to strenghten yourself in the feeling of indifference to their opinion, which is the surest way of always practicing a praiseworhty toleration. If you do that, you will not live so much with other people, though you may appear to move amongst them: your relation to them will be of a purely objective character. This precaution will keep you from too close contact with society, and therefore secure you from being contamined or even outraged by it.

Sigmund Freud once asserted, "Let one attempt to expose a number of the most diverse people uniformly to hunger. With the increase of the imperative urge of hunger all individual differences will blur, and in their stead will appear the uniform expression of the one unstilled urge." Thank heaven, Sigmund Freud was spared knowing the concentration camps from the inside. His subjects lay on a couch designed in the plush style of Victorian culture, not in the filth of Auschwitz. There, the "individual differences" did not "blur" but, on the contrary, people became more different; people unmasked themselves, both the swine and the saints. And today you need no longer hesitate to use the word "saints": think of Father Maximilian Kolbe who was starved and finally murdered by an injection of carbolic acid at Auschwitz and who in 1983 was canonized. You may be prone to blame for invoking examples that are the exceptions ot the rule. "Sed omnia praeclara tam difficilia quam rara sunt" (but everything great is just as difficult to realize as it is rare to find) reads the last sentence of the Ethics of Spinoza. You may of course ask whether we really need to refer to "saints." Wouldn't it suffice just to refer to decent people? It is true that they form a minority . More than that, they always will remain a minority. And yet I see therein the very challenge to join the minority. For the world is in a bad state, but everything will become still worse unless each of us does his best. So let us be alert-alert in a twofold sense: Since Auschwitz we know what man is capable of. And since Hiroshima we know what is at stake.

– Może to być – przytaknął zbójca. – Dziwna jest w ludziach chęć, żeby za tymi, co od nich wyżej siedzą, jako owce durne leźć i to samo czynić. Dość, by się jakie co bardziej bzdurne szatki na książęcym dworze pojawiły, a nie minie miesiąc, w każdym zadupiu je widać. Ot, jedzie człek lasem i drwala widzi. Chłop jak byk, z siekierą, spocony, nieochędogi, ale na zadku co ma? Ano, rajtuzy pstrokate, iście jako dworscy sodomici! – splunął. -A na nogach? Toż nie łapcie z łyka, jako drzewiej bywało, ale trzewiki z zakręconymi noskami. Ledwo w tych trzewikach po krzakach leźć może, sam sobie fikuśne noski nieraz przydepcze i na pysk się przewróci, ale on ninie pan! Żadnego porządku, żadnego uważania...

OT Old Testament

I like this song, as it makes me think of rocks, and water, and the seashore, which are outside; and thinking of a thing is next best ot being there.

Şunu hiçbir zaman unutmuyorum: Otlara çıplak ayakla basmak bile bazı insanlardan çok daha iyi gelebilir.

It's nice to be important , but more important ot be nice.

Nézd, ot messzi-messzi csillagok gyúltak ki: egy, kettő, három, négy, öt... Úgye, Isten angyalai nyitottak ki ragyogó házacskájuk ablakát az égen, s ők néznek most ránk? Ugye, Levko?

sen bende neleri öpüyorsun bir bilsen herkesin perde perde çekildiği bir akşam siyah bir su gibi yollara akan yalnızlığı öpüyorsun. ağzında eriklerin aceleci tadı elleri bulut, gözleri ot bürümüş ekin tarlası bir çocugun düşlerine inen tokadı öpüyorsun. yağmur her zaman gökkuşagını getirmiyor aralık kapılarda bekleyişin çırpıntısı bir kadın eksildikçe ömrüme eklenen uzun gecelerini, solgun gövdesini öpüyorsun. uzak dağ köylerine vuran ay ışığı kerpiçlerden saraylar kuruyor yoksulluğa ne suların ibrişimi, ne gökyüzü ne rüzgar sen bende gittikçe kararan bir halkı öpüyorsun.

A good love is just like a good memory if you know its the but its just out of you reach it can be all you think about and you can try to force it but if you wait maby just maby ot will comw to you.

She couldn't understand the books I read ot he music I listen to, so we couldn't talk as equals on these topics.[...] But when I sat beside her and touched her fingers, a natural warmth welled up inside me.

there were moments throughout the whole day when she had to shake herself because she found her thoughts climbing over her like creeping ivy, scratching and biting into her skin and entangling her in their morbid clutch. Because... wasn't ot true now that not only was she not human but she was kind of a 'thing' rather than Jinn? The Seal was an object with no emotion or thought or feeling. It has one purpose. To command the Jinn. What did that really make her then?

Şimdi ne görüyorum? Anadolu... Düşmana akıl öğreten müftülerin, düşmana yol gösteren köy ağalarının, her gelen gasıpla bir olup komşusunun malını talan eden kasaba eşrafının, asker kaçağını koynunda saklayan zinacı kadınların, frengiden burnu çökmüş sahte sofuların, cami avlusunda oğlan kovalayan softaların türediği yer burasıdır. Burada, bıyıklarını makasla kırptı diye nice fikir ve ümit dolu Türk gencinin kafası taş altında ezildi. Burada, yüzü düşmana dönük, nice vatan mücahitleri savundukları kimselerin eliyle arkadan vuruldu. Burada, milli timsalin, milli bağımsızlık sembolünün yolu kaç defa kesildi ve kaç defa oturduğu şehrin etrafı isyan silahlarıyla çevrildi. Burada, ben, vatan delisi millet divanesi; burada, ben harp malulü Ahmet Celal yapayalnızım. Bunun nedeni, Türk aydını, gene sensin! Bu viran ülke ve yoksul insan kitlesi için ne yaptın? Yıllarca, yüzyıllarca onun kanını emdikten ve onu bir posa halinde katı toprak üstüne attıktan sonra, şimdi de gelip ondan tiksinmek hakkını kendinde buluyorsun. Anadolu halkının bir ruhu vardı, nüfuz edemedin. Bir kafası vardı; aydınlatamadın. Bir vücudu vardı; besleyemedin. Üstünde yaşadığı bir toprak vardı! İşletemedin. Onu, hayvani duyguların, cehaletin, yoksulluğun ve kıtlığın elinde bıraktın. O, katı toprakla kuru göğün arasında bir yabani ot gibi biti. Şimdi, elinde orak, buraya hasada gelmişsin. Ne ektin ki, ne biçeceksin? Bu ısırganları, bu kuru dikenleri mi? Tabii ayaklarına batacak. İşte, her yanın yarılmış bir halde kanıyor ve sen, acıdan yüzünü buruşturuyorsun. Öfkeden yumruklarını sıkıyorsun. Sana ıstırap veren bu şey, senin kendi eserindir, senin kendi eserindir.

Jakimowski znowu wychylił nową porcję gdańskiej wódki. I nawet mnie mrugnął okiem. Zdawać by się mogło, że jego podgolona łepetyna jest mocniejsza niż żelazny czerep armatniego granatu. Ot, co znaczyła wielowiekowa tradycja szlacheckiego narodu.

A Short Southern Screw? So I was right. You're craving something south ot the Mason-Dixon Line." He moved closer, crowding her even though there was still a good twelve inches between them. "I can assure you, though, I'm a man who isn't short in any sense of the word.

İşte bu gerçek, yani akıllı tasarımın kendisine ait bir kanıtının olmaması ve kendi kanıtı yerine bilimsel bilginin bıraktığı boşluklarda bir yabani ot gibi gelişmesi, bilim bir boşluk bulduğunda bunun araştırılması için çağrı yapma ihtiyacı açısından sıkıntı yaratan bir şeydir.

Going to school is like going to prison...you have about two weeks to establish your credibility, failing which you're either a punk or as good as dead. Depending on the school, some students can manage ot avoid those stark alternatives, but even at the best school, no teacher does.

What is to prevent a daily newspaper from being made the greatest organ of social life? Books have had their day-the theaters have had their day-the temple of religion has had its day. A newspaper can be made to take the lead of all these in the great heaven , and save more from Hell, than all the churches and chapels in New York-besides making money at the same time" "Shakespeare is the great genius of the drama, Scott of the novel, Milton and Byron of the poem, and I mean to be the genius of the newspaper press." James Gordon Bennett, editor ot he New York Herald in 1841

Bayan Caroline, un çuvalından dikilmiş etek ve kot gömlek giyen bu kılıksız birinci sınıf öğrencilerinin hayal ürünü edebiyata yabancı olduklarını, çoğunun ilk yürümeye başladıkları günden beri pamuk tarlalarında ot temizlediklerini, domuzlara yem verdiklerini bilmiyordu. Öykünün sonuna gelince, "Ah, ne güzeldi değil mi?" diye sordu.

These words filled me with a sort of melancholy and I was at a loss for an answer, for I felt when I was with him, when I was talking to him - and no doubt it would have been the same with anyone else - none of that happiness which it was possible for me to experience when I was by myself. Alone, at times, I felt surging from the depths of my being one or other ot those impressions which gave me a delicious sense of well-being. But as soon as I was with someone else, as soon as I was talking to a friend, my mind as it were faced about, it was towards this interlocutor and not towards myself that it directed its thoughts, and when they followed this outward course they brought me no pleasure.

Последуй природе, никогда не будешь беден. Последуй людским мнениям, никогда богат не будешь.

Instead of living together (in a joint family) with a difference of opinions, it is better to live separately and live with unity.

Am I going to be in the same office doing the same thing? Am I going to live 90 years? Or am I going to live one year, 90 times, over and over again?

Here is one final reason to think that the United States may be a state that uses the language of democracy to mask an undemocratic reality. An oligarchy is a system in which only those with a certain amount of money or land have access to the political process. An oligarchy is not a majoritarian electoral democracy. For years, the political scientist Martin Gilens has been trying to test empirically the claim that the United States is, as we learn it to be in schools, a “majoritarian electoral democracy.” Gilens and his coauthor Benjamin Page conclude that the empirical evidence between 1981 and 2002 entails that the hypothesis that the United States is a pure majoritarian electoral democracy “can be decisively rejected.”40 Wealthy individuals and powerful interest groups (such as the gun lobby) have significant impact on policy. In contrast, “[n]ot only do ordinary citizens not have uniquely substantial power over policy decisions; they have little or no independent influence on policy at all.” Gilens’s work is the subject of continuing debate.41 But it seems nevertheless widely agreed that the available empirical evidence makes it at the very least worthy of serious consideration that the language of liberal democracy does not accurately explain the cause of most US policy. One must worry about even apparently robustly liberal democratic states that the language of democracy is simply used to mask an undemocratic reality.

Families, by and large, like most groups, resist change. If one member of a family wants to move away, this is regarded as a betrayal, for example. If one member of a family is fat and tries to lose weight, often other members of the family will sabotage the effort. If one member of the family wants to get out of a role he or she has been playing for years, this is usually difficult ot do because the rest of the family tries not to let it happen. If your role is clown, you remain the clown. If your role is responsible oldest child, you probably keep that role within your family for your entire life. If you are the black sheep, you'll find it very diffcult to change colors in the eyes of your family no matter how many good deeds you do.

I don’t remember what it stood for,” Ballard said. “I was on patrol in Pacific Division and I remember filling out the forms on the MDC. Geographic something or other.” “Geographic Reporting and Safety Program,” Bosch said. “The guys down in the ASS Office really worked some OT on it.” “Ass Office?” “The Acronym Selection Section. You never heard of it? They got about ten guys down there full-time.

The only violence God sanctioned in the OT was for nationalistic purposes. That’s because nations require violence. To exist, they need criminal laws, warfare policies, and armed men to enforce them. By their nature, they have order to maintain, territory to defend, national sovereignty to preserve, and history to control. But transnational, interethnic, nongovernmental, geographically dispersed organizations (like the church) do not.

I don't know how to fix my marriage. All I know is that I need ot tear down my own walls and face what's underneath. I cannot save my marriage but I can save myself. I can do that for me and for my children and for every relationship Ihave now and for everyone that comes in the future. I can do that so when I make the most important deision of my life, whether to stay with Craig or to leave him, I'll know that it's my strongest, healthiest self doing the deciding.

Et celui de la charrette reste plongé dans ses pensées Tout comme une personne privée de force et de défense Contre Amour qui le maintient sous sa juridiction ; Sa méditation est d'une intensité telle Qu'il perd le sens de lui−même ; Il ne sait pas s'il existe ou s'il n'existe pas, Il ne se rappelle pas son nom, Il ne sait pas s'il est armé ou non, Il ne sait pas où il va, ni d'où il vient ; Il ne se souvient de rien, Hormis d'une seule chose, et, à cause d'elle, Il a mis les autres choses en oubli ; Il pense tant à cette seule chose Qu'il n'entend, ne voit ni ne comprend rien. (Et cil de la charrete panse Con cil qui force ne desfanse N'a vers Amors qui le justise ; Et ses pansers est de tel guise Que lui meïsmes en oblie, Ne set s'il est, ou s'il n'est mie, Ne ne li manbre de son non, Ne set s'il est armez ou non, Ne set ou va, ne set don vient ; De rien nule ne li sovient Fors d'une seule, et por celi A mis les autres en obli ; A cele seule panse tant Qu'il n'ot, ne voit, ne rien n'antant.)

Sermon On the Mount: "You have heard it said of old..." "Jesus was referring to the 'letter of the Mosaic law' of the OT then went on to illustrate that He embodied the fulfillment of that 'law' and that now we may walk in the 'Law of the Spirit' thereby realizing the 'liberty' He came to 'engift' us with. We therefore are no longer subject to judgement but rather Grace as we 'abide' in Him. Additionally, the 'early church' fathers of which Paul was the first are what God intended the Ecclesia to be developed and built upon". ~R. Alan Woods [2012]

Ot minderimle kerevet tahtası arasında sanki kumaşa yapışmış nerdeyse saydamlaşmış bir gazete parçası buldum. Geçmiş bir polis olayını anlatıyordu. Baş tarafı yoktu. Ama, olay herhalde Çekoslovakya'da geçmiş olmalıydı. Adamın biri para kazanmak için bir Çek köyünden ayrılmış. Yirmi beş yıl sonra, zengin olarak, karısı ve bir çocuğuyle birlikte köyüne dönmüş. Annesi kız kardeşiyle birlikte, doğduğu köyde otel işletiyorlarmış. Adam onlara sürpriz yapmak için, karısıyla çocuğunu bir başka otele bırakıp annesinin oteline gitmiş. İçeriye girince annesi kendisini tanımamış. O da, şaka olsun diye bir oda tutmuş, paralarını da göstermiş. Geceleyin, annesiyle kız kardeşi, paralarını almak için kafasına çekiçle vura vura adamcağızı öldürmüşler, cesedini de nehre atmışlar. Sabahleyin, karısı gelip olup bitenden habersiz, yolcunun kim olduğunu söylemiş. Ana kendini asmış, kız kardeşi de kendini kuyuya atmış. Bu öyküyü binlerce kez okudum sanıyorum. Öykü bir yandan gerçeğe uymuyordu, bir yandan olağan bir şeydi. Kısacası, bana kalırsa, yolcu bunu biraz da hak etmişti. İnsan hiçbir zaman böyle oyun oynamamalı.

They then said they would give me pork and lasses; and then inquired what execution some cannon had done, just before fired from the island, if they had not killed and wounded some of our men; and if we did not want help as our surgeons were a pack of ignormauses. I told them in reply, that they had done no other execution with their guns than wunding a dog,(which was the case,) and as they and their surgeons were of the same species of animals, I supposed the poor wunded dog would account it a particular favor to have some of his own kind ot assist him.

Gregori stepped away from the huddled mass of tourists, putting distance between himself and the guide. He walked completely erect,his head high, his long hair flowing around him. His hands were loose at his sides, and his body was relaxed, rippling with power. "Hear me now, ancient one." His voice was soft and musical, filling the silence with beauty and purity. "You have lived long in this world, and you weary of the emptiness. I have come in anwer to your call." "Gregori.The Dark One." The evil voice hissed and growled the words in answer. The ugliness tore at sensitive nerve endings like nails on a chalkboard. Some of the tourists actually covered their ears. "How dare you enter my city and interfere where you have no right?" "I am justice,evil one. I have come to set your free from the bounaries holding you to this place." Gregori's voice was so soft and hypnotic that those listening edged out from their sanctuaries.It beckoned and pulled, so that none could resist his every desire. The black shape above their head roiled like a witch's cauldron. A jagged bolt of lightning slammed to earth straight toward the huddled group. Gregori raised a hand and redirected the force of energy away from the tourists and Savannah. A smile edged the cruel set of his mouth. "You think to mock me with display,ancient one? Do not attempt to anger what you do not understand.You came to me.I did not hunt you.You seek to threaten my lifemate and those I count as my friends.I can do no other than carry the justice of our people to you." Gregori's voice was so reasonable, so perfect and pure,drawing obedience from the most recalcitrant of criminals. The guide made a sound,somewhere between disbelief and fear.Gregori silenced him with a wave of his hand, needing no distractions. But the noise had been enough for the ancient one to break the spell Gregori's voice was weaving around him. The dark stain above their heads thrashed wildly, as if ridding itself ot ever-tightening bonds before slamming a series of lightning strikes at the helpless mortals on the ground. Screams and moans accompanied the whispered prayers, but Gregori stood his ground, unflinching. He merely redirected the whips of energy and light, sent them streaking back into the black mass above their heads.A hideous snarl,a screech of defiance and hatred,was the only warning before it hailed. Hufe golfball-sized blocks of bright-red ice rained down toward them. It was thick and horrible to see, the shower of frozen blood from the skies. But it stopped abruptly, as if an unseen force held it hovering inches from their heads. Gregori remained unchanged, impassive, his face a blank mask as he shielded the tourists and sent the hail hurtling back at their attacker.From out of the cemetery a few blocks from them, an army of the dead rose up. Wolves howled and raced along beside the skeletons as they moved to intercept the Carpathian hunter. Savannah. He said her name once, a soft brush in her mind. I've got it, she sent back instantly.Gregori had his hands full dealing with the abominations the vampire was throwing at him; he did't need to waste his energy protecting the general public from the apparition. She moved out into the open, a small, fragile figure, concentrating on the incoming threat. To those dwelling in the houses along the block and those driving in their cars, she masked the pack of wolves as dogs racing down the street.The stick=like skeletons, grotesque and bizarre, were merely a fast-moving group of people. She held the illusion until they were within a few feet of Gregori.Dropping the illusion, she fed every ounce of her energy and power to Gregori so he could meet the attack.

Bir seferinde bir yerde okumuştum ya da bir filmde görmüştüm, Almanlar tarafından şu her tarafı kapalı -biraz hava girsin diye sadece üst kısımda bir aralık bulunan- sığır nakliye vagonlarında kamplara götürülen Yahudiler, ıslak ot kokan kırlardan geçtikleri sırada, manzarayı betimlesin ve trenin geçtiği yerleri anlatsın diye içlerinden en iyi anlatıcıyı seçip omuzlarının üzerinde yukarıdaki aralığa kadar kaldırırlarmış. Ben artık şuna eminim ki, onların arasında yoldaşları tarafından anlatılan o güzellikleri hayal etmeyi, o delikten dışarıya kendi gözleriyle bakma ayrıcalığına tercih eden birçok kişi olmalıydı.

Well, my wife was just lightin' a pig-tail - tho' light enough and to spare there was in the lift already - when who should come clatterin' at the latch-pin in the blow o' thunder and wind but Philip, poor lad himself; and an ill hour for him it was. He's been some time in ill fettle, though he was never frowsy, hot he, but always kind and dooce, and canty once, like anither; and he asked me to tak the boat across the lake at once to the clough o' cloostedd at t'other side. The woman took the pet and wodn''t hear o't; and "Dall me, if I go to-night,' quoth I. But he would not be put off so, not he; and dingdrive he went to it, cryin' and putrein' ye'd a-said, poor fellow, he was wrang i' his garrets a'most.

I was seeing him different than when he first came in; I was seeing more to him than just big hands and red sideburns and a broken-nosed grin. I'd see him do things that didn't fit with his face or hands, things like painting a picture at OT with real paints on a blank paper with no lines or numbers anywhere on it to tell him where to paint, or like writing letters to somebody in a beautiful flowing hand. How could a man who looked like him paint pictures or write letters to people, or be upset and worried like I saw him once when he got a letter back? [...] He hadn't let what he looked like run his life one way or the other, any more than he'd let the Combine mill him into fitting where they wanted him to fit.

That peculiar feeling—it was only a feeling, you couldn’t describe it as an activity—that we used to call “Church.” The sweet corpsy smell, the rustle of Sunday dresses, the wheeze of the organ and the roaring voices, the spot of light from the hole in the window creeping slowly up the nave. In some way the grown-ups could put it across that this extraordinary performance was necessary. You took it for granted, just as you took the Bible, which you got in big doses in those days. There were texts on every wall and you knew whole chapters of the O.T. by heart. Even now my head’s stuffed full of bits out of the Bible. And the children of Israel did evil again in the sight of the Lord. And Asher abode in his breaches. Followed them from Dan until thou come unto Beersheba. Smote him under the fifth rib, so that he died. You never understood it, you didn’t try to or want to, it was just a kind of medicine, a queer-tasting stuff that you had to swallow and knew to be in some way necessary. An extraordinary rigmarole about people with names like Shimei and Nebuchadnezzar and Ahithophel and Hash-badada; people with long stiff garments and Assyrian beards, riding up and down on camels among temples and cedar trees and doing extraordinary things. Sacrificing burnt offerings, walking about in fiery furnaces, getting nailed on crosses, getting swallowed by whales. And all mixed up with the sweet graveyard smell and the serge dresses and the wheeze of the organ.

Eh, koyun deyip geçmeyelim. Onların içinde de ne koçlar, ne yiğitler vardır. Dünya kuruldu kurulalı bütün koyunlar çobanla, köpekle yaşamadılar ya! Onlar da bir zamanlar kasaptan, celepten, çobandan, köpekten habersiz, yiyeceklerini kendileri arayıp bulurlar, düşmanlarını kendi sert boynuzları ile yıldırıp kaçırırlardı. Ama onların yağlı etlerine göz dikenler, sütünden yağ ile peynir, derisinden kürk ile çarık yapanlar, her şeyden önce koyunları, çobansız kalırlarsa kurdun kuşun şikârı olacaklarına, kendi başlarına açlıktan öleceklerine inandırdılar. Bu böyle sürüp gittikçe koyunlar da kendilerine inanamaz, kuvvetlerine güvenemez oldular. Sandılar ki, çobanın onları canavardan koruması, önlerine bir tutam ot atması, yumuşak etleri için değil, kara gözleri içindir.

Years later I cam across an article by the critic Lili Loofbourow introducing an expression that I thought uncannily captured some of my graduate school experience: "the male glance." Not ot be confused with the male gaze, which objectifies women's bodies, the male glance does the opposite to women's creative work: it barely gives it a second look. Those under its spell decide after cursory examination that the work in question isn't of much value. The male glance "looks, assumes, and moves on. It is, above all else, quick. Under its influence, we rejoice in our distant diagnostic speed . . . it feeds an inchoate, almost erotic hunger to know without attending--to omnisciently not-attend, to reject without taking the trouble of analytical labor." It turns away without care.

PLUTUS do Woźnicy Nadto ciężkiego zbyłeś się brzemienia, Swobodnyś już. Leć w sferę swą — lecz nie ma, Nie ma jej tu! Upiorny, pstry, skłębiony, Zdziczały tłum prze na nas z każdej strony. Jedynie tam, gdzie wzrokiem toniesz w niebie, Gdzie tylkoś twój. gdzie wierzysz tylko w siebie, Gdzie nic prócz Dobra z Pięknem nie ma już, W samotność idź! — i tam świat własny twórz. CHŁOPIEC WOŹNICA Że godność moja z posła czcią jednaka, Jako bliskiego lubię cię krewniaka... Gdzie bawisz ty. tam pełnia — gdziem ja blisko, Tam każdy czuje się u źródła zysku I na rozstajnej stojąc życia ścieży Nie wie, czy tobie, czy mnie się powierzyć. Twoim próżniacze wolno pędzić życie. Lecz ma co robić wciąż, kto za mną idzie. Nie taję nic, nie czynię nic w sekrecie. Oddycham — ot — już wszystko o mnie wiecie. Więc bywaj zdrów. Tyś szczęście wniósi mi w darze; Gdy szepniesz „wróć!" — to znów się tu ukażę. Odchodzi, tak jak przyszedł.

Bütün bu bitki inceleme gezilerim, dikkatimi çeken şeylerin bulunduğu yeren aldığım türlü izlenimler ve yol açtığı düşünceler, bunlara karışan olayların tümü, bende aynı yerlerde toplanan otlarla karşılaşıca tazelenen duygular bıraktı. Yüreğime, her zaman duygululuk veren o güzel görünümleri, ormanları, gölleri, korulukları, kayaları, dağları, bir daha göremeyeceğim; ancak, kendimi yeniden orada düşünmek için ot ve kök koleksiyonumu açmak yeter. Bu benim için bir tür anı defteridir. Beni bitkibilime bağlayan, dolaylı düşünceler zinciridir ki imgelemime onun en çok hoşlandığı düşünceleri toplayarak anımsatır: çayırlar, sular, ormanlar ve bütün bunların içinde bulunabilinen yalnızlık, sessizlik ve hele erinci belleğimde hep canlandırmaktır. Böylece, insanların bana yönelmiş kıyıcılığını, onlardan gördüğüm nefreti, düşmanlığı, kötü davranışları; kendilerine gösterdiğim sevginin ve içten bağların karşılığı olarak yaptıkları kötülükleri unutturuyor, beni eskiden birlikte yaşadığım insanlar gibi iyi ve sıradan insanlara, sessiz evlere bir kez daha, götürür gibi oluyor, bundan duyduğum hazzı tazeleyerek bir ölümlünün duyabileceği en kötü talihin içinde bile, hala mutlu ediyor.

Niektórym się wydaje, że czubkiem można zostać ot tak, ni z gruchy, ni z pietruchy. Ze na przykład najspokojniej w świecie spacerujesz sobie z rodziną, aż tu nagle doskakujesz do drzewa i zaczynasz je kopać, dopadasz wózeczka i plujesz dzidziusiowi w ryło, podnosisz nogę i obsikujesz kulę kaleki, jednym słowem - odbija ci. Albo inaczej, zwyczajnie szykujesz się do spania, ucałowałeś rodziców, przyjaciół, żonę, dzieci, meble, oszczędności, ubranka, bojler, umywalkę, podeszwy swoich butów, muszlę klozetową. Po prostu dostajesz hyzia. Nie, nie i jeszcze raz nie. To może jeszcze inaczej - przeglądasz pocztę, popijając poranną kawę (zachowanie w normie, tylko trochę niezdrowe dla pęcherza) i trafiasz na wredny list na swój temat, anonim. Sklecono go przy pomocy liter powycinanych z różnych piśmideł, których nie czytujesz, pośrednio zmuszając cię tym sposobem do ich lektury. - Łajdaki! Nie uda się wam! - wydzierasz się z pianą na ustach i ciach! dostajesz kuku na muniu. Bo zachodzące w mózgownicy procesy chemiczne uległy zakłóceniu, jako że bolą cię zęby. Albo dlatego, że w dzieciństwie mamusia i tatuś nie kochali cię dość mocno, bo słońce grzeje coraz słabiej, a księżyc wchodzi przez okno dwanaście po północy. Nie. nie. nie. NIE. NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE NIE. Kto jak kto. ale ja znam się na tym i mogę stwierdzić, że ci, którzy tak mówią, po prostu bredzą. Nigdy w życiu nie zająłbym tak eksponowanej pozycji, na samym szczycie hierarchii chorób umysłowych, gdybym nie poświęcał każdej sekundy na ciężką, wytrwałą, drobiazgową pracę nad sobą i swoimi uzdolnieniami. Jeśli człowiek nie stawia sobie wymagań, to do niczego nie dojdzie. Dzisiejsza młodzież chciałaby dostać świra - bo to całkiem fajne - ale bez tego wysiłku, który jest niezbędny. Owszem, być szurniętym to nic trudnego. Ale żeby zostać prawdziwym, wielkim, pierwszorzędnym szaleńcem, na to - wierzcie mi - trzeba się nieźle napocić. A czasami trochę wypić: nie jestem wymagający, trzy kieliszki wystarczą. Ale przede wszystkim, przede wszystkim, przede wszystkim - z czego nie zdajemy sobie sprawy i czego powtarzać nigdy dość - świrowanie to wynik zbiorowego wysiłku! Tak, koleżanki i koledzy, zatkało was, co? "Jak to? Wariowanie to zajęcie grupowe? Ten się chyba z głupim widział!" No dalej, lżyjcie mnie, nie żałujcie sobie. Och, przyznaję, że niełatwo to znieść, ale kiedy za twoimi plecami stoi murem zespól, wszystko staje się prostsze. A ja, czego nie należy zapominać, mam najlepszą ekipę na świecie. Byłem we wszelakich szpitalach, u najróżniejszych psychiatrów. Wszyscy połamali sobie na mnie zęby. Najbardziej nieustępliwi, którzy od pierwszego spotkania wyrokowali z okrutnym uśmieszkiem: "To nic takiego, nic poważnego, raz dwa wróci pan do siebie." No i co? Figa z makiem. Jak wysiadają ci mądrale, teraz, gdy nikt, nawet najciemniejsza z pielęgniarek nie może zaprzeczyć, że jestem przykładem najwspanialszego, najelegantszego, najosobliwszego obłędu w stylu francuskim z końca dwudziestego wieku? Ale ja nigdy, przenigdy nie zapominam, nawet gdy piję samotnie, że udało mi się dzięki innym, dzięki mojemu zespołowi. To on przypominał mi nieustannie, że świat jest przeciw mnie, że ludzie chcą moich pieniędzy i mojej śmierci, że nie spoczną, dopóki nie wymażą mnie z listy żyjących. Dziękuję. Dziękuję wam wszystkim.