Pap Quotes

Most of what passes for legitimate entertainment is inferior or foolish and only caters to or exploits people's weaknesses. Avoid being one of the mob who indulges in such pastimes. Your life is too short and you have important things to do. Be discriminating about what images and ideas you permit into your mind. If you yourself don't choose what thoughts and images you expose yourself to, someone else will, and their motives may not be the highest. It is the easiest thing in the world to slide imperceptibly into vulgarity. But there's no need for that to happen if you determine not to waste your time and attention on mindless pap.

You know what it was like? It was like thinking I was heading to a surprise party and instead it was a surprise pap smear.

I would rather receive a Pap smear from Captain Hook than venture out on New Year's Eve.

I really shouldn’t leave,” Zach said, terrified what would happen the second he found himself alone with Nora. “Come on, Zach. This party sucks and not in the good way. I’ve had pap smears more fun than this.” Zach covered a laugh with a cough. “I must admit you do have a way with words.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete. Through all he said, even through his appalling sentimentality, I was reminded of something—an elusive rhythm, a fragment of lost words, that I had heard somewhere a long time ago. For a moment a phrase tried to take shape in my mouth and my lips parted like a dumb man’s, as though there was more struggling upon them than a wisp of startled air. But they made no sound, and what I had almost remembered was uncommunicable forever.

((Doc is getting ready to do a Pap-smear on Reece)) "Looks healthy," Doc commented. "Good, because it hasn't been getting any exercise in quite a while." When she heard Willow smother a laugh, Reece just closed her eyes. She had to remember some old saying about being careful of thoughts. They become words.

It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no kings nor dukes at all, but just low-down humbugs and frauds. But I never said nothing, never let on; kept it to myself; it's the best way; then you don't have no quarrels, and don't get into no trouble. If they wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn't no objections, 'long as it would keep peace in the family; and it warn't no use to tell Jim, so I didn't tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them have their own way.

This is your heritage,' he said, as if from this dance we could know about his own childhood, about the flavor and grit of tenement buildings in Spanish Harlem, and projects in Red Hook, and dance halls, and city parks, and about his own Paps, how he beat him, how he taught him to dance, as if we could hear Spanish in his movements, as if Puerto Rico was a man in a bathrobe, grabbing another beer from the fridge and raising it to drink, his head back, still dancing, still steeping and snapping perfectly in time.

If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them have their own way.

What's the hurry?" he said "This door is locked," Tully told him. "So?" "Can you pick a lock?" "I'll give it a try." "Be my guest" Tully said, stepping to one side. Pap blew the lock away with the shotgun. He pushed the door open with the barrel.

Wipe the pap of your mother's breast off thy lips and give me a hatful of that dirt,' the man with his chin on the ground said. 'No one of us will see the sun go down this night.

Was that a personal call, Cammie?” he asked with a shrewd glance. I had a brief moment of panic before composing myself. “Yes. It was my gynecologist. He wanted to discuss my latest pap smear. Do you want to know how the cells on my cervix are doing?

I said, "Nég Mawon toujou kanpé!!" —the free man is still standing!! And she replied, powerfully. "Cheri, Nég Mawon p'ap jamn krazé" —my dear, the free man will never be broken.

Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-ters of. Whawk? Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flitter-ing bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffey-ing waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughter- sons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who wereShem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!

They wept for humanity, those two, not for themselves. They could not bear that this should be the end. Ere silence was completed their hearts were opened, and they knew what had been important on the earth. Man, the flower of all flesh, the noblest of all creatures visible, man who had once made god in his image, and had mirrored his strength on the constellations, beautiful naked man was dying, strangled in the garments that he had woven. Century after century had he toiled, and here was his reward. Truly the garment had seemed heavenly at first, shot with colours of culture, sewn with the threads of self-denial. And heavenly it had been so long as man could shed it at will and live by the essence that is his soul, and the essence, equally divine, that is his body. The sin against the body - it was for that they wept in chief; the centuries of wrong against the muscles and the nerves, and those five portals by which we can alone apprehend - glozing it over with talk of evolution, until the body was white pap, the home of ideas as colourless, last sloshy stirrings of a spirit that had grasped the stars.

I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them have their own way.

...don't settle for pap - our thoughts wander through eternity - experience the wonder of being alive...

Going seventy miles an hour but not going anywhere—not enough imagination to want to go anywhere! Getting their music by turning a dial. Getting their phrases from the comic strips instead of from Shakespeare and the Bible and Veblen and Old Bill Sumner. Pap-fed flabs!

I happened to think of something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don't float on his back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn't pap, but a woman dressed up in a man's clothes. So

he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. ...He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.

All the baffling things that arrived unwelcome with adulthood—tax returns and car insurance and Pap smears—none of them matter when I am in the lab. There is no phone and so it doesn’t hurt when someone doesn’t call me. The door is locked and I know everyone who has a key. Because the outside world cannot come into the lab, the lab has become the place where I can be the real me. My

Mornings before daylight I slipped into cornfields and borrowed a watermelon, or a mushmelon, or a punkin, or some new corn, or things of that kind. Pap always said it warn’t no harm to borrow things if you was meaning to pay them back some time; but the widow said it warn’t anything but a soft name for stealing, and no decent body would do it.

The BiPAP essentially took control of my breathing away from me, which was intensely annoying, but the great thing about it was that it made all this noise, rumbling with each inhalation and whirring as I exhaled. I kept thinking that it sounded like a dragon breathing in time with me, like I had this pet dragon who was cuddled up next to me and cared enough about me to time his breaths to mine. I was thinking about that as I sank into sleep.

I would rather receive a Pap smear from Captain Hook than venture out in New Year's Eve.

The third wed the Lord of the Paps, but proved barren.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

Eatings. Some sugar-plum | Hog fat   Some wigs | Some marchpanes   A chitterling sausages. | An amelet   A dainty-dishes | A slice, steak   A mutton shoulder | Vegetables boiled to a pap

Mom took me off the BiPAP, I tethered myself to a portable tank, and stumbled into my bathroom to brush my teeth. Appraising myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, I kept thinking there were two kinds of adults: There were Peter Van Houtens - miserable creatures who scoured the earth in search of something to hurt. And then there were people like my parents, who walked around zombically, doing whatever they had to do to keep walking around. Neither of these futures struck me as particularly desirable. It seemed to me that I had already seen everything pure and good in the world, and I was beginning to suspect that even if death didn't get in the way, the kind of love Augustus and I share could never last. So dawn goes down to day, the poet wrote. Nothing gold can stay.

And some scientists and other intellectuals are convinced—too eagerly in my view—that the question of God's existence belongs in the forever inaccessible PAP category. From this, as we shall see, they often make the illogical deduction that the hypothesis of God's existence, and the hypothesis of his non-existence, have exactly equal probability of being right.

The question, then, is not about changing people; it's about reaching people. I'm not speaking simply of better information, a sharper and clearer factual presentation to disperse the thick fogs generated by today's spin machines. Of course, we always need stronger empirical arguments to back up our case. It would certainly help if at least as many people who believe, say, in a "literal devil" or that God sent George W. Bush to the White House also knew that the top 1 percent of households now have more wealth than the bottom 90 percent combined. Yes, people need more information than they get from the media conglomerates with their obsession for nonsense, violence and pap. And we need, as we keep hearing, "new ideas." But we are at an extraordinary moment. The conservative movement stands intellectually and morally bankrupt while Democrats talk about a "new direction" without convincing us they know the difference between a weather vane and a compass. The right story will set our course for a generation to come.

Come, tears, confound! Out, sword, and wound The pap of Pyramus; Ay, that left pap, Where heart doth hop: Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky. Tongue, lose thy light! Moon, take thy flight! Now die, die, die, die, die.

He was well born, as the saying is, and that’s worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town; and pap he always said it, too, though he warn’t no more quality than a mudcat himself.

Well it seems to me that there are books that tell stories, and then there are books that tell truths...," I began. "Go on," she said "The first kind, they show you life like you want it to be. With villains getting what they deserve and the hero seeing what a fool he's been and marrying the heroine and happy ending and all that. Like Sense and Sensibility or Persuasion. But the second kind, they show you life more like it is. Like in Huckleberry Finn where Huck's pa is a no-good drunk and Jim suffers so. The first kind makes you cheerful and contented, but the second kind shakes you up." "People like happy ending, Mattie. They don't want to be shaken up." "I guess not, ma'am. It's just that there are no Captain Wentworths, are there? But there are plenty of Pap Finns. And things go well for Anne Elliot in the end, but they don't go well for most people." My voice trembled as I spoke, as it did whenever I was angry. "I feel let down sometimes. The people in the books-the heroes- they're always so...heroic. And I try to be, but..." "...you're not," Lou said, licking deviled ham off her fingers. "...no, I'm not. People in books are good and noble and unselfish, and people aren't that way... and I feel, well... hornswoggled sometimes. By Jane Austen and Charles Dickens and Louisa May Alcott. Why do writers make things sugary when life isn't that way?" I asked too loudly. "Why don't they tell the truth? Why don't they tell how a pigpen looks after the sow's eaten her children? Or how it is for a girl when her baby won't come out? Or that cancer has a smell to it? All those books, Miss Wilcox," I said, pointing at a pile of them," and I bet not one of them will tell you what cancer smells like. I can, though. It stinks. Like meat gone bad and dirty clothes and bog water all mixed together. Why doesn't anyone tell you that?" No one spoke for a few seconds. I could hear the clock ticking and the sound of my own breathing. Then Lou quietly said, "Cripes, Mattie. You oughtn't to talk like that." I realized then that Miss Wilcox had stopped smiling. Her eyes were fixed om me, and I was certain she'd decided I was morbid and dispiriting like Miss Parrish had said and that I should leave then and there. "I'm sorry, Miss Wilcox," I said, looking at the floor. "I don't mean to be coarse. I just... I don't know why I should care what happens to people in a drawing room in London or Paris or anywhere else when no one in those places cares what happens to people in Eagle Bay." Miss Wilcox's eyes were still fixed on me, only now they were shiny. Like they were the day I got my letter from Barnard. "Make them care, Mattie," she said softly. "And don't you ever be sorry.

From the pit of his stomach a violent spasm of nausea rose up and seized his throat. He ran to the bathroom, barely able to stand, knelt down in front of the toilet and started to vomit. He vomited the whiskey he'd just drunk, vomited what he'd eaten that day as well as what he'd eaten the day before, and the day before that, and he felt, with his sweaty head now entirely inside the toilet bowl and a sharp pain in his side, as if he were endlessly vomiting up the entire time of his life on earth, going all the way back to the pap he was given as a baby, and when, at last, he'd expelled his own mother's milk, he kept vomiting poison bitterness, bile, pure hatred.

At that point, more than 15,000 women were dying each year from cervical cancer. The Pap smear had the potential to decrease that death rate by 70 percent or more, but there were two things standing in its way: first, many women - like Henrietta - simply didn't get the test; and, second, even when they did, few doctors knew how to interpret the results accurately, because they didn't know what various stages of cervical cancer looked like under a microscope. Some mistook cervical infections for cancer and removed a woman's entire reproductive tract when all she needed was antibiotics. Others mistook malignant changes for infection, sending women home with antibiotics only to have them return later, dying from metastasized cancer. And even when doctors correctly diagnosed precancerous changes, they often didn't know how those changes should be treated.

Don’t spend your energy and time worrying about where you’re going after this life. You’ll only end up missing out on this life. Then what’s the point?

Do something Good, Do no Harm, Be Compassionate, and Have Fun!

Multimediacomponenten moeten de krenten in de pap zijn. Gebruik multimedia daarom als ondersteuning op de website. Niet om de primaire boodschap van de site over te brengen.

But there is also a deeply inescapable kind of fence-sitting, which I shall call PAP (Permanent Agnosticism in Principle).

It was time for some serious thinking, and Jasper didn’t reckon he should do that on an empty lung. Empty head was one thing; lungs needed smoke to survive – so his ol’ Pap’d said.

I knew what it meant. Pap didn’t have an accident. He died for being a proud black man. He died because someone killed him. Someone who was going to get away with it.

Kalau Indonesia kelak merdeka, negara kita tidak akan kejam" "Mudah-mudahan, Tik." "Tidak boleh mudah-mudahan, Pap. Harus.

What modren ideas?” pap said. “I didn’t know there was but one idea about work—until it is done, it ain’t done, and when it is done, it is.

suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.” The young know that golden moment when anything can happen, and they understand its allure

To the unblushing womankind of Florence To go about displaying breast and paps.

Read books? That’s like eating mielie pap—it start out bad, then it get no better.” Joseph took a deep breath and let it out slowly, overburdened by the mere thought of literature.

The popular pap that "cheaters only cheat themselves" is so untrue that it is cruel to repeat it—except in quotes, as though held out with tongs.

When I first seed Cholly, I want you to know it was like all the bits of color from that time down home when all us chil'ren went berry picking after a funeral and I put some in the pocket of my Sunday dress, and they mashed up and stained my hips. My whole dress was messed with purple, and it never did wash out. Not the dress nor me. I could feel that purple deep inside me. And that lemonade Mama used to make when Pap came in out the fields. It be cool and yellowish, with seeds floating near the bottom. And that streak of green them june bugs made on the trees the night we left from down home. All of them colors was in me. Just sitting there. So when Cholly come up and tickled my foot, it was like them berries, that lemonade, them streaks of green the june bugs made, all come together. Cholly was thin then, with real light eyes. He used to whistle, and when I heerd him, shivers come on my skin.

One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees - he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the imcomparable milk of wonder.

Ahol a törvényeket nem tartják be, ott szükségszerűen kis feudumok születnek. Posztmodern hercegségek, amelyekben a sértett fél a legnagyobb alázattal emel panaszt. Egy württembergi pap folyamodványa kitűnően jellemzi ezt a fajta hajbókoló duzzogást, zsörtölődést. Hercegének címzett levelében ezt írta: "Felséged legmagvasabb disznói felzabálták az én legalázatosabb krumplimat.

You don't know what's after the desert?" Kennerly shrugged. "Some might. The coach ran through part of it fifty years ago. My pap said so. He used to say 'twas mountains. Others say an ocean... a green ocean with monsters. And some say that's where the world ends. That there ain't nothing but lights that'll drive a man blind and the face of God with his mouth open to eat them up.

formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

the PAP’s first nine years in power, Lee set aside nearly one-third of Singapore’s budget for education – an astonishing proportion in relation to neighboring countries, or indeed any country in the world.[59]

Only the mouth-hole piped out, Importunate cricket In a quarry of silences. The people of the city heard it. They hunted the stones, taciturn and separate, The mouth-hole crying their locations. Drunk as a fetus I suck at the paps of darkness. The food tubes embrace me. Sponges kiss my lichens away. The jewelmaster drives his chisel to pry Open one stone eye. This is the after-hell: I see the light. A wind unstoppers the chamber

Lee Kuan Yew ruled Singapore from 1959 until 1990, making him, we believe, the longest serving prime minister anywhere. His party, the People’s Action Party (PAP), dominated elections and that dominance was reinforced by the allocation of public housing, upon which most people in Singapore rely. Neighborhoods that fail to deliver PAP votes come election time found the provision and maintenance of housing cut off.18 In Zimbabwe, Robert Mugabe went one step further. In an operation called Murambatsvina (Operation Drive Out the Rubbish), he used bulldozers to demolish the houses and markets in neighborhoods that failed to support him in the 2005 election.

He is between worlds, this boy. Between the river and the town, between the hogshead and the house, between the taint of his mother and the stain of his pap. He knows some things that he can never say, not even to himself.

I’m not sure why, but literally 99% of all the paps I’ve ever met are men. Maybe because women are more aware of how fucking annoying and scary it is to be followed and catcalled when you’re just trying to go about your day.

De tweeling is zestien,’ zei Esmée. ‘Die vinden dit heel naar. Toch denk ik niet dat ze hem missen. Hij was er toch bijna nooit. En als hij er was, dan had hij alleen maar kritiek. Hij wil natuurlijk dat ze vwo doen, maar dat zit er echt niet in. Dat kan hij niet accepteren. Als hij nu iets over hun schoolprestaties zegt, dan roepen ze: “Wat zeur je nou, pap! Jij gaat vreemd, terwijl wij alleen maar op de havo zitten. Ga lekker gauw terug naar je vriendin!

But I warn’t comfortable long, because I happened to think of something. I knowed mighty well that a drownded man don’t float on his back, but on his face. So I knowed, then, that this warn’t pap, but a woman dressed up in a man’s clothes.

Pap said, "Lend me those bolt cutters, Bo" "They're in the back of the Explorer." The old man got out the bolt cutter, walked around and snipped one of the leads to the battery on each of the ATV's. The others stood in the darkness watching him, listening to the snip-snip of the bolt cutter. "Not a bad idea," said Dave. "That way is any of them get past us, he's going to be on foot." "There's that," Tully said. "And then there's the fact that the old man loves bolt cutters...

Wann ist man erwachsen?... ..Paps meint: Wenn du Dinge tust, obwohl dir deine Eltern dazu geraten haben. Florian behauptet: Endgültig erwachsen bist du erst, wenn alle Pflanzen auf deinem Fensterbrett leben und du keine davon rauchen kannst.

Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

Pap he hadn’t been seen for more than a year, and that was comfortable for me; I didn’t want to see him no more. He used to always whale me when he was sober and could get his hands on me; though I used to take to the woods most of the time when he was around.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees — he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

Being too American, or American at all, is pretty much the worst thing a Brit can be. “American” is synonymous with pushiness, tactlessness, and puppy-dog earnestness. Americans buy self-help books as if their lives depend on them. Brits, as a rule, do not. Such pap is seen as a sign of weakness.

Luke 11:27-28King James Version (KJV) 27 And it came to pass, as he spake these things, a certain woman of the company lifted up her voice, and said unto him, Blessed is the womb that bare thee, and the paps which thou hast sucked. 28 But he said, Yea rather, blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it.

És látom Őt, a Kisdedet, aki fehérlő ingbe lépdel. Még lopva-lopva rám tekint és integet szőke fejével. Arany gyertyácskát tart keze és este félve ül le mellém. Hallom kacagni csöndesen s látom alvó fejét a mellén. Ő a pap, az igaz, a szent, bámulom, mint egy ismeretlent. Gyónok Neki és áldozok és megsiratom Őt, ki elment.

things, on a raft, is for everybody to be satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others. It didn't take me long to make up my mind that these liars warn't no kings nor dukes at all, but just low-down humbugs and frauds. But I never said nothing, never let on; kept it to myself; it's the best way; then you don't have no quarrels, and don't get into no trouble. If they wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn't no objections, 'long as it would keep peace in the family; and it warn't no use to tell Jim, so I didn't tell him. If I never learnt nothing else out of pap, I learnt that the best way to get along with his kind of people is to let them have their own way.

If they wanted us to call them kings and dukes, I hadn’t no objections, ’long as it'd keep peace inside the family; and it warn’t no need to tell Jim, so I didn’t tell him.  If I in no way learnt not anything else out of pap, I learnt that the exceptional manner to get alongside along with his type of people is to let them have their personal way.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

The leaders' adherence to the principle of collective cabinet responsibility makes it difficult to ascertain the respective contributions of each, but enough is known from public statements to suggest that the three men at the top of the pyramid complemented each other in a way that helped the PAP maintain its political dominance and deliver on its promise of More Good Years

He doesn’t want a Hail Mary,” I said. “If he doesn’t have a chance of meaningful time, he wants to take the mask off and hold Cady.” I returned to Paul’s bedside. He looked at me, his dark eyes alert above the nose bridge of the BiPAP mask, and said clearly, his voice soft but unwavering, “I’m ready.” Ready, he meant, to remove the breathing support, to start morphine, to die.

A papok és a guruk soha nem az esőcsináláshoz, gyógyításhoz, jósláshoz vagy varázsláshoz értettek jól. Hanem az interpretációhoz. A pap nem az, aki tudja, hogyan kell eljárni az esőtáncot és véget vetni az aszálynak. A pap az, aki meg tudja magyarázni, miért nem működött az esőtánc, és miért kell tovább hinnünk az istenünkben annak ellenére is, hogy látszólag süket az imáinkra.

The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees - he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

Nogle, især piger, havde måttet leve deres mors barndom, mens deres egen lå gemt hen i en hemmelig skuffe. For sådanne piger var det vanskeligst. Deres stemmer brød ud af dem som materien af et sår, og lyden af den forskrækkede dem, som når de opdagede, at nogen havde læst i deres dagbog, skønt den var låst inde mellem skrammel og gammelt legetøj fra den tid, hvor de bar en firårigs udsatte ansigt. Det stirrede op på dem mellem snurretoppene og de invalide dukker med det uskyldige, forbavsede glasblik. Deres søvn var let og lugtede af angst. Hver aften når de ryddede op på deres værelse, måtte de samle deres tanker sammen for natten som fugle, der skal lokkes ind i deres bur. Det hændte, at en af dem ikke var deres egen, og så vidste de ikke, hvor de skulle gøre af den. I farten, for de var altid trætte, proppede de den om bag et skab eller ind mellem to bøger i reolen. Men når de vågnede, disse piger, passede tankerne ikke mere til deres ansigt, som havde opløst sig under søvnen ligesom en fastelavnsmaske, hvis stive pap er revnet og gennemvædet af den varme ånde. Med besvær tog de det nye ansigt på sig som en skæbne, og de blev svimle af at se ned på deres fødder, så stor var afstanden blevet i nattens løb.

let not thy sword skip one: Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; It is her habit only that is honest, Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, Are not within the leaf of pity writ, But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; Think it a bastard, whom the oracle Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone.

And whenever I complained about it, privately or publicly, people just rolled their eyes. They said I was whingeing, said I only pretended to want privacy, said Meg was pretending as well. Oh, she’s getting chased, is she? Wah-wah, give us a break! She’ll be fine, she’s an actress, she’s used to paps, in fact, wants them. But no one wanted this. No one could ever get used to it. All those eye-rollers couldn’t take ten minutes of it.

I knew that Amy couldn’t have died from a drug overdose, as she had been drug-free since 2008. But although she had been so brave and had fought so hard in her recovery from alcoholism, I knew she must have lapsed once again. I thought that Amy hadn’t had a drink for three weeks. But she had actually started drinking at Dionne’s Roundhouse gig the previous Wednesday. I didn’t know that at the time. The following morning Janis, Jane, Richard Collins (Janis’s fiancé), Raye, Reg and I went to St Pancras mortuary to officially identify Amy. Alex couldn’t bring himself to go, which I fully understood. When we arrived there were loads of paps outside the court, but they were all very respectful. We were shown into a room and saw Amy behind a window. She looked very, very peaceful, as if she was just asleep, which in a way made it a lot harder. She looked lovely. There was a slight red blotchiness to her skin, which was why, at the time, I thought she might have had a seizure: she looked as she had done when she had had seizures in the past. Eventually the others left Janis and me to say goodbye to Amy by ourselves. We were with her for about fifteen minutes. We put our hands on the glass partition and spoke to her. We told her that Mummy and Daddy were with her and that we would always love her. I can’t express what it was like. It was the worst feeling in the world.

While we laid off after breakfast to sleep up, both folks being approximately wore out, I got to wondering that if I may want to fix up a few manner to keep pap and the widow from seeking to comply with me, it'd be a certainer element than trusting to luck to get a long way sufficient off before they neglected me; you notice, all styles of matters would possibly take place.  Well, I didn’t see no manner for a while, but by way of and by way of pap raised up a minute to drink some other barrel of water, and he says:

Avoid Most Popular Entertainment Most of what passes for legitimate entertainment is inferior or foolish and only caters to or exploits people’s weaknesses. Avoid being one of the mob who indulges in such pastimes. Your life is too short and you have important things to do. Be discriminating about what images and ideas you permit into your mind. If you yourself don’t choose what thoughts and images you expose yourself to, someone else will, and their motives may not be the highest. It is the easiest thing in the world to slide imperceptibly into vulgarity. But there’s no need for that to happen if you determine not to waste your time and attention on mindless pap.

Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.

I myself," said Gibbon, "am slightly underdone in the personal worthlessness line. It was Papa's fault. He used no irony. The communications mix offered by the parent to the child is as you know twelve percent do this, eighty-two percent don't do that, and six percent huggles and endearments. That is standard. Now, to avoid boring himself or herself to death during this monition the parent enlivens the discourse with wit, usually irony of the cheaper sort. The irony ambigufies the message, but more importantly establishes in the child the sense of personal lack-of-worth. Because the child understands that one who is talked to in this way is not much of a something. Ten years of it goes a long way. Fifteen is better. That is where Pap fell down. He eschewed irony.

The youngsters today—Oh, the aviators have plenty of nerve. The physicists, these twenty-five-year-old Ph. D.'s that violate the inviolable atom, they're pioneers. But most of the wishy-washy young people today—Going seventy miles an hour but not going anywhere—not enough imagination to want to go anywhere! Getting their music by turning a dial. Getting their phrases from the comic strips instead of from Shakespeare and the Bible and Veblen and Old Bill Sumner. Pap-fed flabs! Like this smug pup Malcolm Tasbrough, hanging around Sissy! Aah! "Wouldn't it be hell if that stuffed shirt, Edgeways, and that political Mae West, Gimmitch, were right, and we need all these military monkeyshines and maybe a fool war (to conquer some sticky-hot country we don't want on a bet!) to put some starch and git into these marionettes we call our children? Aah!

Singapore's tragedy is not the absence of idealism, but that it systematically rewards the individualistic majority and discourages the socially-conscious minority. This is at odds with Singapore's self-image as a communitarian Asian society, an image conjured up largely to justify the protection of family values and paternalistic government. In truth, the overwhelming ethos is to mind your own business. Singapore's embrace of the market forces - based on the PAP's clear appreciation of the fact that people's desire to live in comfort is the most powerful force for civilisation's progress - has provided rich incentives for Singaporeans to work hard, and create wealth. But its exercise of illiberal controls to maintain ownership of the public sphere adds up to a heavy tax on thinking socially and acting politically. The public has been privatised.

Politicians seldom if ever get [into public office] by merit alone, at least in democratic states. Sometimes, to be sure, it happens, but only by a kind of miracle. They are chosen normally for quite different reasons, the chief of which is simply their power to impress and enchant the intellectually underprivileged… Will any of them venture to tell the plain truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth about the situation of the country, foreign or domestic? Will any of them refrain from promises that he knows he can’t fulfill — that no human being could fulfill? Will any of them utter a word, however obvious, that will alarm or alienate any of the huge pack of morons who cluster at the public trough, wallowing in the pap that grows thinner and thinner, hoping against hope? Answer: maybe for a few weeks at the start… But not after the issue is fairly joined, and the struggle is on in earnest… They will all promise every man, woman and child in the country whatever he, she or it wants. They’ll all be roving the land looking for chances to make the rich poor, to remedy the irremediable, to succor the unsuccorable, to unscramble the unscrambleable, to dephlogisticate the undephlogisticable. They will all be curing warts by saying words over them, and paying off the national debt with money no one will have to earn. When one of them demonstrates that twice two is five, another will prove that it is six, six and a half, ten, twenty, n. In brief, they will divest themselves from their character as sensible, candid and truthful men, and simply become candidates for office, bent only on collaring votes. They will all know by then, even supposing that some of them don’t know it now, that votes are collared under democracy, not by talking sense but by talking nonsense, and they will apply themselves to the job with a hearty yo-heave-ho. Most of them, before the uproar is over, will actually convince themselves. The winner will be whoever promises the most with the least probability of delivering anything.

walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalk really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees—he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder. His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for

gentleman all over; and so was his family. He was well born, as the saying is, and that’s worth as much in a man as it is in a horse, so the Widow Douglas said, and nobody ever denied that she was of the first aristocracy in our town; and pap he always said it, too, though he warn’t no more quality than a mudcat himself. Col. Grangerford was very tall and very slim, and had a darkish-paly complexion, not a sign of red in it anywheres; he was clean shaved every morning all over his thin face, and he had the thinnest kind of lips, and the thinnest kind of nostrils, and a high nose, and heavy eyebrows, and the blackest kind of eyes, sunk so deep back that they seemed like they was looking out of caverns at you, as you may say. His forehead was high, and his hair was black and straight and hung to his shoulders. His hands was long and thin, and every day of his life he put on a clean shirt and a full suit from head to foot made out of linen so white it hurt your eyes to look at it; and on Sundays he wore a blue tail-coat with brass buttons on it. He carried a mahogany cane with a silver head to it.

It’s not like I wasn’t busy. I was an officer in good standing of my kids’ PTA. I owned a car that put my comfort ahead of the health and future of the planet. I had an IRA and a 401(k) and I went on vacations and swam with dolphins and taught my kids to ski. I contributed to the school’s annual fund. I flossed twice a day; I saw a dentist twice a year. I got Pap smears and had my moles checked. I read books about oppressed minorities with my book club. I did physical therapy for an old knee injury, forgoing the other things I’d like to do to ensure I didn’t end up with a repeat injury. I made breakfast. I went on endless moms’ nights out, where I put on tight jeans and trendy blouses and high heels like it mattered and went to the restaurant that was right next to the restaurant we went to with our families. (There were no dads’ nights out for my husband, because the supposition was that the men got to live life all the time, whereas we were caged animals who were sometimes allowed to prowl our local town bar and drink the blood of the free people.) I took polls on whether the Y or the JCC had better swimming lessons. I signed up for soccer leagues in time for the season cutoff, which was months before you’d even think of enrolling a child in soccer, and then organized their attendant carpools. I planned playdates and barbecues and pediatric dental checkups and adult dental checkups and plain old internists and plain old pediatricians and hair salon treatments and educational testing and cleats-buying and art class attendance and pediatric ophthalmologist and adult ophthalmologist and now, suddenly, mammograms. I made lunch. I made dinner. I made breakfast. I made lunch. I made dinner. I made breakfast. I made lunch. I made dinner.

The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, life essence celestial, glistering on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. God's air, the Allfather's air, scintillant circumambient cessile air. Breathe it deep into thee. By heaven, Theodore Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty deed and no botch! Thou art, I vow, the remarkablest progenitor barring none in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle. Astounding! In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man's work. Cleave to her! Serve! Toil on, labour like a very bandog and let scholarment and all Malthusiasts go hang. Thou art all their daddies, Theodore. Art drooping under thy load, bemoiled with butcher's bills at home and ingots (not thine!) in the countinghouse? Head up! For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. See, thy fleece is drenched. Dost envy Darby Dullman there with his Joan? A canting jay and a rheumeyed curdog is all their progeny. Pshaw, I tell thee! He is a mule, a dead gasteropod, without vim or stamina, not worth a cracked kreutzer. Copulation without population! No, say I! Herod's slaughter of the innocents were the truer name. Vegetables, forsooth, and sterile cohabitation! Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding! She is a hoary pandemonium of ills, enlarged glands, mumps, quinsy, bunions, hayfever, bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all such congenital defunctive music! Twenty years of it, regret them not. With thee it was not as with many that will and would and wait and never do. Thou sawest thy America, thy lifetask, and didst charge to cover like the transpontine bison. How saith Zarathustra? Deine Kuh Trübsal melkest Du. Nun Trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. See! it displodes for thee in abundance. Drink, man, an udderful! Mother's milk, Purefoy, the milk of human kin, milk too of those burgeoning stars overhead rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, such as those rioters will quaff in their guzzling den, milk of madness, the honeymilk of Canaan's land. Thy cow's dug was tough, what? Ay, but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. No dollop this but thick rich bonnyclaber. To her, old patriarch! Pap! Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum!

The air without is impregnated with raindew moisture, life essence celestial, glistening on Dublin stone there under starshiny coelum. God’s air, the Allfather’s air, scintillant circumambient cessile air. Breathe it deep into thee. By heaven, Theodore Purefoy, thou hast done a doughty deed and no botch! Thou art, I vow, the remarkablest progenitor barring none in this chaffering allincluding most farraginous chronicle. Astounding! In her lay a Godframed Godgiven preformed possibility which thou hast fructified with thy modicum of man’s work. Cleave to her! Serve! Toil on, labour like a very bandog and let scholarment and all Malthusiasts go hang. Thou art all their daddies, Theodore. Art drooping under thy load, bemoiled with butcher’s bills at home and ingots (not thine!) in the countinghouse? Head up! For every newbegotten thou shalt gather thy homer of ripe wheat. See, thy fleece is drenched. Dost envy Darby Dullman there with his Joan? A canting jay and a rheumeyed curdog is all their progeny. Pshaw, I tell thee! He is a mule, a dead gasteropod, without vim or stamina, not worth a cracked kreutzer. Copulation without population! No, say I! Herod’s slaughter of the innocents were the truer name. Vegetables, forsooth, and sterile cohabitation! Give her beefsteaks, red, raw, bleeding! She is a hoary pandemonium of ills, enlarged glands, mumps, quinsy, bunions, hayfever, bedsores, ringworm, floating kidney, Derbyshire neck, warts, bilious attacks, gallstones, cold feet, varicose veins. A truce to threnes and trentals and jeremies and all such congenital defunctive music! Twenty years of it, regret them not. With thee it was not as with many that will and would and wait and never—do. Thou sawest thy America, thy lifetask, and didst charge to cover like the transpontine bison. How saith Zarathustra? Deine Kuh Trübsal melkest Du. Nun Trinkst Du die süsse Milch des Euters. See! it displodes for thee in abundance. Drink, man, an udderful! Mother’s milk, Purefoy, the milk of human kin, milk too of those burgeoning stars overhead rutilant in thin rainvapour, punch milk, such as those rioters will quaff in their guzzling den, milk of madness, the honeymilk of Canaan’s land. Thy cow’s dug was tough, what? Ay, but her milk is hot and sweet and fattening. No dollop this but thick rich bonnyclaber. To her, old patriarch! Pap! Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum!

You break her heart, and you’ll have to deal with me and her three brothers, and if you survive that, Her Grace will ensure your social ruin unto the nineteenth generation. I remind you, all of my boys are crack shots and more than competent with a sword.” “It is not my intention to break her heart.” “Oh, it’s never our intention.” His Grace’s brows drew down in thought, and he was once again the affable paterfamilias. “Maggie is different. I hope that’s from being the oldest daughter, but her unfortunate origins are too obvious a factor to be dismissed. She’s in want of… dreams, I think. My other girls have dreams. Sophie dreamed of her own family, Jenny loves to paint, Louisa has her literary scribbling, and Evie must racket about the property as her brothers used to, but Maggie has never been a dreamer. Not about her first pony nor her first waltz nor her first… beau.” Nor her first lover. The words hung unspoken in the air while the fire crackled and hissed and a log fell amid a shower of sparks. It wasn’t what Ben would have expected any papa to say of his daughter, but then, marrying into a family meant details like this would be shared—Esther Windham misplaced her everyday jewels, and Percy thought his daughters should be entitled to dream. In a different way, it felt as if Ben were still lurking in doorways and climbing through windows, but this window was called marriage, and Maggie was trying to lock it shut with Ben on the outside. “I’m not sure Maggie wants to marry me.” It was as close as he’d come to touching on the circumstances of the betrothal. His Grace regarded him for a long moment. “I’m her papa, but I was a young man once, Hazelton. Maggie is only a bit younger than Devlin and a few months older than Bart would have been. When I married, I had no idea either of my two oldest progeny existed. I’d no sooner started filling my nursery when—before my heir was out of dresses—both women came forward, hurling accusations and threats. If my marriage can survive that onslaught, surely you can overcome a little stubbornness in my daughter?” It was, again, an insight into the Windham family Ben gained only because he was engaged to marry Maggie. Such confidences prompted a rare inclination toward direct speech. “I think Maggie’s dream is to be left alone. If she jilts me, she’ll have one more excuse to retire from life, to hide and tell herself she’s content.” “Content.” His Grace spat the word. “Bother content. Content is milk toast and pap when life is supposed to be a banquet. Make Maggie’s dreams come true, young Hazelton, and show her contentment is shoddy goods compared to happiness.” “You make it sound simple.” “We’re speaking of women and that particular subspecies of the genre referred to as wives. It is simple—devote yourself to her happiness, and you will be rewarded tenfold. I do not, however, say the undertaking will ever be easy.

If kittens turn into cats why don't puppies turn into paps?

Dee kromp in elkaar en probeerde zich zo klein mogelijk te maken. 'Meesters,' zei hij. 'Vergeef me.' Het paar negeerde hem. Ze staarden naar de tweeling. 'Sophie,' zei de man. 'Josh,' zei de vrouw. 'Mam... pap,' zei de tweeling in koor. Het paar maakte een buiging. 'Hier heten we Isis en Osiris. Welkom in Danu Talis, kinderen. Welkom thuis.

Women are supposed to undergo a second, gynecologist annual exam, and this one has been well defined since its inception in the 1950s: breast and external genitalia exams, a Pap smear to detect cervical cancer, a vaginal and perhaps rectal exam. These exams are not always voluntarily undertaken; they may be required as a condition of obtaining or renewing a prescription for a contraceptive: Recall the searing scene in Mad Men where Peggy undergoes a gyn exam in order to get birth control pills and the (male) doctor cautions her that just because the pills are expensive, she shouldn't become "the town pump just to get [her] money's worth." Many women are traumatized by these exams, which in their detailed attention to breasts and genitalia so closely mimic actual sexual encounters. Out-of-place intimacies, like unwelcome touching by a male coworker, are normally regarded as "sexual harassment," but the entire gyn exam consists of intimate touching, however disguised as a professional scientifically justified procedure. And sometimes this can be a pretty thin disguise.

The first time I had a pap smear done, I was so traumatized, I now take prescription Xanax to avoid having panic attacks when I get pap smears done now. And I'm only 24. How many more am I going to have to have for the rest of my life? What am I going to do when I want to have children and every doctor wants to shove his/her fingers and tools inside me?

Bagi sobat sekalian yang sedang penasaran dengan penyakitnya, kenapa ada kutil di kemaluan? berikut sedikit informasi tentang penyakit kutil di kemaluan atau yang sering disebut juga dengan nama kutil kelamin. Sebenarnya apa sih kutil kelamin itu? Sebelumnya sobat perlu ketahui, bahwa penyakit ini masuk dalams alah satu kategori Penyakit Menular Seksual (PMS). Baik langsung saja, silahkan simak penjelasan di bawah ini. Untuk Info Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Definisi Kutil Genitalis atau dengan nama lain Kondiloma Akuminata merupakan kutil di dalam atau di sekeliling vagina, penis atau dubur, yang ditularkan melalui hubungan seksual. Kondiloma akuminatum ialah vegetasi oleh Human Papiloma Virus tipe tertentu, bertangkai, dan permukaannya berjonjot. Tipe HPV tertentu mempunyai potensi onkogenik yang tinggi, yaitu tipe 16 dan 18. tipe ini merupakan jenis virus yang paling sering dijumpai pada kanker serviks. Sedangkan tipe 6 dan 11 lebih sering dijumpai pada kondiloma akuminatum dan neoplasia intraepitelial serviks derajat ringan. Kutil genitalis sering ditemukan dan menyebabkan kecemasan karena: Penyebab penyakit ini adalah virus papilloma.Pada wanita, virus papiloma tipe 16 dan 18, yang menyerang leher rahim tetapi tidak menyebabkan kutil pada alat kelamin luar dan bisa menyebabkan kanker leher rahim. Virus tipe ini dan virus papiloma lainnya bisa menyebabkan tumor intra-epitel pada leher rahim (ditunjukkan dengan hasil Pap-smear yang abnormal) atau kanker pada vagina, vulva, dubur, penis,mulut, tenggorokan atau kerongkongan. Kutil genitalis paling sering tumbuh di permukaan tubuh yang hangat dan lembap. Pada pria, area yang sering terkena adalah ujung dan batang penis dan dibawah kulit depannya (jika tidak disunat). Pada wanita, kutil timbul di vulva, dinding vagina, leher rahim (serviks) dan kulit di sekeliling vagina. Kutil genitalis juga bisa terjadi di daerah sekeliling anus dan rektum, terutama pada pria homoseksual dan wanita yang melakukan hubungan seksual melalui dubur. Untuk Info Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Kutil biasanya muncul dalam waktu 1-6 bulan setelah terinfeksi, dimulai sebagai pembengkakan kecil yang lembut, lembap, berwarna merah atau pink. Mereka tumbuh dengan cepat dan bisa memiliki tangkai. Pada suatu daerah seringkali tumbuh beberapa kutil dan permukaannya yang kasar memberikan gambaran seperti bunga kol (blumkol). Pada wanita hamil, pada gangguan sistem kekebalan (penderita AIDS atau pengobatan dengan obat yang menekan sistem kekebalan) dan pada orang yang kulitnya meradang, pertumbuhan kutil ini sangat cepat. Untuk Info Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Diagnosis ditegakkan berdasarkan gejala dan hasil pemeriksaan fisik. Kutil yang menetap bisa diangkat melalui pembedahan dan diperiksa dibawah mikroskop untuk meyakinkan bahwa itu bukan merupakan suatu keganasan. Wanita yang memiliki kutil di leher rahimnya, harus menjalani pemeriksaan Pap-smear secara rutin. Obat Kutil kelamin | Obat Kutil kelamin Ampuh | Obat Kutil kelamin Herbal | Obat Kutil kelamin Alami | Obat Kutil kelamin Tradisional | Obat Kutil kelamin Tanpa Operasi | Obat Kutil kelamin Pria | Obat Kutil kelamin Wanita | Obat Kutil kelamin di Apotik | Salep Kutil Kelamin | Obat Kutil kelamin Salep

Cara Mengobati Kutil Kelamin Kutil biasanya muncul dalam waktu 1-6 bulan setelah terinfeksi, dimulai sebagai pembengkakan kecil yang lembut, lembap, berwarna merah atau pink. Mereka tumbuh dengan cepat dan bisa memiliki tangkai. Pada suatu daerah seringkali tumbuh beberapa kutil dan permukaannya yang kasar memberikan gambaran seperti bunga kol (blumkol). Untuk Info Segera Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Pada wanita hamil, pada gangguan sistem kekebalan (penderita AIDS atau pengobatan dengan obat yang menekan sistem kekebalan) dan pada orang yang kulitnya meradang, pertumbuhan kutil ini sangat cepat. Cara Mengobati Kutil Kelamin secara alami Diagnosis ditegakkan berdasarkan gejala dan hasil pemeriksaan fisik. Kutil yang menetap bisa diangkat melalui pembedahan dan diperiksa dibawah mikroskop untuk meyakinkan bahwa itu bukan merupakan suatu keganasan. Wanita yang memiliki kutil di leher rahimnya, harus menjalani pemeriksaan Pap-smear secara rutin. Kutil pada alat kelamin luar bisa diangkat melalui laser, krioterapi (pembekuan) atau pembedahan dengan bius lokal. Pengobatan kimiawi, seperti podofilum resin atau racun yang dimurnikan atau asam trikloroasetat, bisa dioleskan langsung pada kutil. Tetapi pengobatan ini memerlukan waktu beberapa minggu sampai beberapa bulan, bisa melukai kulit di sekelilingnya dan sering gatal. Untuk Info Segera Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Cara Mengobati Kutil Kelamin tanpa operasi Kutil di uretra bisa diobati dengan obat anti kanker seperti tiotepa atau florourasil. Pilihan lainnya adalah pengangkatan kutil dari uretra melalui pembedahan endoskopik. Kutil genitalis sering kambuh dan memerlukan pengobatan ulang. Pada pria yang belum disunat, kekambuhan bisa dicegah dengan menjalani penyunatan. Kutil kelamin muncul sekitar 2-4 minggu setelah infeksi, tetapi seringkali perlu beberapa bulan sampai terlihat nyata. Kutil biasanya tidak menyakitkan, tetapi dapat menyebabkan gatal-gatal. Penampilan kutil bervariasi, dari benar-benar datar sampai kasar seperti kembang kol. Kutil bisa begitu datar sehingga tidak terlihat dengan mata telanjang, tetapi dapat menyebabkan nyeri dan gatal. Untuk Info Segera Hubungi Kami HP/WA 081 329 878 999 Cara Mengobati Kutil Kelamin dengan bawang putih Mereka dapat muncul secara sendiri-sendiri atau berkelompok. Pada pria, kutil kelamin biasanya muncul di penis atau di bawah kulup. Kutil kelamin juga dapat muncul di dalam uretra, biasanya hanya pada meatus uretra (pembukaan uretra di kepala penis). Pada wanita, kutil kelamin terlihat pada vagina, labia atau uretra. Baik pada pria maupun wanita, kutil dapat muncul pada rektum dan daerah sekitarnya. cara mengobati kutil kelamin dengan bawang putih | cara mengobati kutil kelamin dengan albothyl | cara mengobati kutil kelamin dengan cuka apel | cara mengobati kutil kelamin pria | obat kutil kelamin alami paling ampuh | obat kutil kelamin pria di apotik | cara mengobati kutil kelamin secara alami dan cepat | obat kutil kelamin wanita

I have no idea,” I say. “But, I guess I'm having dinner with my father tonight.” “Oh, that should be fun.” “Yeah, about as fun as a pap smear,” I say and roll my eyes.

Be furcsa! A pap azt mondta, hogy a lélek többet ér a világ minden aranyánál, a kereskedők pedig azt mondják, hogy egy lyukas ezüstöt sem ér.

Az ebédlő ablakából látni lehetett a nagy, kockakövekkel kirakott teret, ahol a fuvarosok és vásárosok gyűltek össze minden reggel. Színes, rikító kép volt ez, mint valamilyen ázsiai vásár. Ennek a térnek sarkán zendült fel minden délben, ablakaink alatt, a temetési menetek „circumdederunt me”-je vagy a katonatemetések gyászindulója, melyet rezesbanda fújt. A városi halottakat idáig kísérte csak gyalog a papság, itt beszentelték a koporsót, a pap, a fáklyavivők és a gyásznép kocsira ültek, s a gyászdíszbe öltözött, fekete strucctollas paripák innen már gyors ütemben robogtak tovább a halottaskocsival a köztemető felé. Pontosan déli két órakor, gyermekkorom hosszú évtizedén át majd minden délben, mikor a szobalány behozta a tésztát, felharsant az ablak alatt a gyászinduló, hallottam a pap panaszos énekét, a latin szavakat, a katonazenekar öblös, recsegő gyászhangjait – s csaknem minden délben kétségbeesés és szomorúság facsarta meg szívemet. Ezt a kétségbeesést nem éppen a halál érthetetlen és kegyetlen titka váltotta ki belőlem, hanem anyám merev pedagógiai elvei, aki egyszer s mindenkorra kereken megtiltotta, hogy mindenféle szedett-vedett, idegen halottak kedvéért felugráljunk az asztaltól. Ha katonát temettek, másfél óra múlva megint csak elmasírozott ablakaink alatt a rezesbanda, de most már víg, ropogós dallamokat játszott, így hirdetve „az élet diadalát a halál fölött”. (Egyik nevelőm értelmezte így a temetőből visszatérő honvédzenekar jókedvét.) A katonatemetések díszes parádéja egy időben sok bakát csábított az öngyilkosságra; érzelmes parasztlegények megvallották búcsúleveleikben, hogy megirigyelték a díszesen eltemetett falubeli bajtárs tisztességét, ők sem maradhatnak el a virtusban, követik a jó pajtást a halálba, s kérik a családot, jó ismerősöket és a komaságot, ne sajnálják a fáradságot és kísérjék ki őket is a rezesbandával a temetőbe. Valóságos járvány tört ki egy időben a bakák között, akik vetélkedve lőtték agyon magukat szolgálati fegyverükkel, hogy a falubeli Borcsa láthassa a zenekaros parádét, amellyel jegyesét a temetőbe kísérik. A katonai hatóságok később megtiltották, hogy öngyilkos bakákat is zenekari és díszkísérettel temessenek. A járvány enyhült, a bakák meggondolták, érdemes-e zene nélkül temetkezni.