Phantom Forces Quotes

I am Adelina Amouteru, the phantoms whispered to my father, speaking my most frightening thoughts in a chorus of voices, dripping with hatred. My hatred. I belong to no one. On this night, I swear to you that I will rise above everything you’ve ever taught me. I will become a force that this world has never known. I will come into such power that none will dare hurt me again.

If you force me to pick one color, it'd be Black... It covers up the things inside of me that I don't want to be known. Well, for the same reason, black is the color I hate, too...

Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces for individual and social harmony.

Lee watched the thin hands, the beautiful violet eyes, the flush of excitement on the boy's face. An imaginary hand projected with such force it seemed Allerton must feel the touch of ectoplasmic fingers caressing his ear, phantom thumbs smoothing his eyebrows, pushing the hair back from his face. Now Lee's hands were running down his ribs, the stomach. Lee felt the aching pain of desire in his lungs.

(Decadent style) is ingenious, complicated, learned, full of shades of meaning and research, always pushing further the limits of language... forcing itself to express in thought that which is most ineffable, and in form the vaguest and most fleeting contours; listening that it may translate them to the subtle confidences of the neuropath, to the avowals of aging and depraved passion, and to the singular hallucinations of the fixed idea verging on madness... In opposition to the classic style, it admits of shading, and these shadows teem and swarm with the larvae of superstitions, the haggard phantoms of insomnia, nocturnal terrors, remorse which starts and turns back at the slightest noise, monstrous dreams stayed only by impotence, obscure phantasies at which daylight would stand amazed, and all that the soul conceals of the dark, the unformed, and the vaguely horrible, in its deepest and furthest recesses.

Allison." I almost collapsed in relief. "Yeah," I whispered, forcing a pained smile as he stared at me as if I were a ghost. "It's me. Damn you, Kanin. You were a pain in the ass to find, you know that?" Kanin didn't answer. Without warning, his hands rose, pressing to either side of my face as I went rigid. His stare was awed, hopeful, as if he couldn't quite believe I was real and had to touch me to make sure I wasn't a phantom. "You're here." I barely caught the whisper, and Kanin's eyes closed again as he bowed his head. It was a broken sound, a man desperately grasping at the last thread of hope, when he had been in the darkness for so long. "You came." And, as I stood, shocked, against the wall of the cell, Kanin sank to his knees in front of me, holding the backs of my legs. The top of his bowed head pressed against my thighs. "You came," he repeated, a chant holding him to sanity. I swallowed the lump in my throat and touched his broad shoulders, biting my lips to keep the tears in check, as the cell door opened with a creak, and the Prince beckoned us both to freedom.

Just because a thing can't be done doesn't mean it can't be did. We all look into mirrors and see phantoms. Our error is our Eros. Why is there something instead of nothing? The answer is reckless and surreal.

There was a phantom woman in my mind that I was comparing myself to, and I had to force her from the dressing room. When she was gone, I looked at my body, the body that had kept me alive for nearly thirty years, without any serious health problems, the body that had taken me where I needed to go and protected me. I had never appreciated or loved the body that had done so much for me. I had thought of it as my enemy, as nothing more than a shell that enclosed my real self, but it wasn’t a shell. The body was me. This is your real life. You’re already living it. I removed the clothes and stood naked before the mirrors, turning this way and that. I was round and cute in a way I’d never seen before.

You got any experience? (Carlos) I’m former army intelligence, Special Forces, on contract to the U.S. government now for national security. That good enough for you, amigo? (Stoner) It’ll do. (Carlos)

As mathematicians were uncovering the connection between zero and infinity, physicists began to encounter zeros in the natural world; zero crossed over from mathematics to physics. In thermodynamics a zero became an uncrossable barrier: the coldest temperature possible. In Einstein's theory of general relativity, a zero became a black hole, a monstrous star that swallows entire suns. In quantum mechanics, a zero is responsible for a bizarre source of energy-infinite and ubiquitous, present even in the deepest vacuum-and a phantom force exerted by nothing at all.

If you love truth, be a lover of silence. Silence like the sunlight will illuminate you in God and will deliver you from the phantoms of ignorance.… In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then there is born something that draws us to silence.… If only you practice this, untold light will dawn on you in consequence … after a while a certain sweetness is born in the heart of this exercise and the body is drawn almost by force to remain in silence.

Syrian monk, Isaac of Niniveh: Many are avidly seeking but they alone find who remain in continual silence. … Every man who delights in a multitude of words, even though he says admirable things, is empty within. If you love truth, be a lover of silence. Silence like the sunlight will illuminate you in God and will deliver you from the phantoms of ignorance. Silence will unite you to God himself. … More than all things love silence: it brings you a fruit that tongue cannot describe. In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then there is born something that draws us to silence. May God give you an experience of this “something” that is born of silence. If only you practice this, untold light will dawn on you in consequence … after a while a certain sweetness is born in the heart of this exercise and the body is drawn almost by force to remain in silence.

How could the human mind progress, while tormented with frightful phantoms, and guided by men, interested in perpetuating its ignorance and fears? Man has been forced to vegetate in his primitive stupidity: he has been taught stories about invisible powers upon whom his happiness was supposed to depend. Occupied solely by his fears, and by unintelligible reveries, he has always been at the mercy of priests, who have reserved to themselves the right of thinking for him, and of directing his actions.

To move forward, you must figure out exactly what is obstructing you. Whatever it is, it isn’t really there; it has no reality, no substance. It’s your own creation, a phantom lurking in the shadows of your mind, a shadow demon. Your obstructions are your demons, and your demons are shadow dwellers. They live and thrive in the half-light of ignorance, so the way to slay a demon is by illuminating it with the full force and power of your focused attention; by looking at it, hard. Banish shadow with light and see for yourself that no obstruction exists, nor ever did. We create our demons and we feed them. To awaken we must slay them. That’s really the whole process: Slay one demon, take one step. Repeat.

1. That reason is a gift of God and that we should believe in its ability to comprehend the world. 2. That they have been wrong who undermined confidence in reason by enumerating the forces that want to usurp it: class struggle, libido, will to power. 3. That we should be aware that our being is enclosed within the circle of its perceptions, but not reduce reality to dreams and the phantoms of the mind. 4. That truth is a proof of freedom and that the sign of slavery is the lie. 5. That the proper attitude toward being is respect and that we must, therefore, avoid the company of people who debase being with their sarcasm, and praise nothingness. 6. That, even if we are accused of arrogance, it is the case that in the life of the mind a strict hierarchy is necessary. 7. That intellectuals in the twentieth century were afflicted with the habit of baratin, i.e., irresponsible jabber. 8. That in the hierarchy of human activities the arts stand higher than philosophy, and yet bad philosophy can spoil art. 9. That the objective truth exists; namely, out of two contrary assertions, one is true, one false, except in strictly defined cases when maintaining contradiction is legitimate. 10. That quite independently of the fate of religious denominations we should preserve a "philosophical faith," i.e., a belief in transcendence as a measure of humanity. 11. That time excludes and sentences to oblivion only those works of our hands and minds which prove worthless in raising up, century after century, the huge edifice of civilization. 12. That in our lives we should not succumb to despair because of our errors and our sins, for the past is never closed down and receives the meaning we give it by our subsequent acts.

Everywhere he went he saw this same phenomenon—parents unmindful of their children, their attention fixed on little glass windows in the palms of their hands, mesmerized like drug addicts, longing for some artificial connection while their own flesh and blood careened wildly through a chaotic and violent world behind their backs. The writer was even worse. He invented false worlds and peopled them with ghosts while his motherless son scanned the horizon for a human connection. It was shameful. What did a man need to lose to be shaken from his immersion in a dream? What terminal force could liberate him from the pursuit of phantoms and engage him in the living world around him?

Vivian once told me about a Chinese proverb that said an invisible thread connected those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. I felt the phantom tug of that thread now, stretching between us and vibrating with the promise of something only fate could deliver. I used to think we wouldn't be together if her father hadn't forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.

We Sith are an unseen opposition, Tenebrous had told his young apprentice. A phantom menace. Where the Sith once wore armor, we now wear cloaks. But the Force works through us all the more powerfully in our invisibility. For the present, the more covert we remain, the more influence we can have. Our revenge will be achieved not through subjugation but by contagion.

A ghost mill, they called it, infested with all sorts of witches, phantoms, and monsters. It was as though the very timbers of the mill had soaked up the unearthly forces that seethed and thronged in the valley, like the wood of a wine barrel takes up the stain and scent of the wine.

It seemed that Abraham had offered to murder his son to test a phantom. It seemed that Sol had brought his dying daughter through hundreds of light-years and innumerable hardships in response to nothing. But now, as the Sphinx loomed above him and the first hint of sunrise paled Hyperion’s sky, Sol realized that he had responded to a force more basic and persuasive than the Shrike’s terror or pain’s dominion. If he was right—and he did not know but felt—then love was as hardwired into the structure of the universe as gravity and matter/antimatter. There was room for some sort of God not in the web between the walls, nor in the singularity cracks in the pavement, nor somewhere out before and beyond the sphere of things … but in the very warp and woof of things. Evolving as the universe evolved. Learning as the learning-able parts of the universe learned. Loving as humankind loved.

This too is a jihad. Yet we Americans find ourselves in the dangerous position of going to war not against a state but against a phantom. The jihad we have embarked upon is targeting an elusive and protean enemy. The battle we have begun is never-ending. But it may be too late to wind back the heady rhetoric. We have embarked on a campaign as quixotic as the one mounted to destroy us.

Reality, at first glance, is a simple thing: the television speaking to you now is real. Your body sunk into that chair in the approach to midnight, a clock ticking at the threshold of awareness. All the endless detail of a solid and material world surrounding you. These things exist. They can be measured with a yardstick, a voltammeter, a weighing scale. These things are real. Then there’s the mind, half-focused on the TV, the settee, the clock. This ghostly knot of memory, idea and feeling that we call ourself also exists, though not within the measurable world our science may describe. Consciousness is unquantifiable, a ghost in the machine, barely considered real at all, though in a sense this flickering mosaic of awareness is the only true reality that we can ever know. The Here-and-Now demands attention, is more present to us. We dismiss the inner world of our ideas as less important, although most of our immediate physical reality originated only in the mind. The TV, sofa, clock and room, the whole civilisation that contains them once were nothing save ideas. Material existence is entirely founded on a phantom realm of mind, whose nature and geography are unexplored. Before the Age of Reason was announced, humanity had polished strategies for interacting with the world of the imaginary and invisible: complicated magic-systems; sprawling pantheons of gods and spirits, images and names with which we labelled powerful inner forces so that we might better understand them. Intellect, Emotion and Unconscious Thought were made divinities or demons so that we, like Faust, might better know them; deal with them; become them. Ancient cultures did not worship idols. Their god-statues represented ideal states which, when meditated constantly upon, one might aspire to. Science proves there never was a mermaid, blue-skinned Krishna or a virgin birth in physical reality. Yet thought is real, and the domain of thought is the one place where gods inarguably ezdst, wielding tremendous power. If Aphrodite were a myth and Love only a concept, then would that negate the crimes and kindnesses and songs done in Love’s name? If Christ were only ever fiction, a divine Idea, would this invalidate the social change inspired by that idea, make holy wars less terrible, or human betterment less real, less sacred? The world of ideas is in certain senses deeper, truer than reality; this solid television less significant than the Idea of television. Ideas, unlike solid structures, do not perish. They remain immortal, immaterial and everywhere, like all Divine things. Ideas are a golden, savage landscape that we wander unaware, without a map. Be careful: in the last analysis, reality may be exactly what we think it is.

Prolific libraries take on an independent existence, and become living things...We may have chosen its themes, and the general pathways along which it will develop, but we can only stand and watch as it invades all the walls of the room, climbs to the ceiling, annexes the other rooms one by one, expelling anything that gets in the way. It eliminates pictures hanging on the walls, or ornaments that obstruct its advance; it moves on with its necessary but cumbersome acolytes -- stools and ladders -- and forces its owner into constant reorganization since its progress is not linear and calls for ever new kinds of diviion. At the same time, it is undeniably the reflection, the twin image of its master. To anyone with the insight to decode it, the fundamental character of the librarian will emerge as one's eye travels along the bookshelves. indeed no library of any size is like another, none has the same personality. (pp. 30-31)

An imaginary hand projected with such force it seemed Allerton must feel the touch of ectoplasmic fingers caressing his ear, phantom thumbs smoothing his eyebrows, pushing the hair back from his face ... Lee felt the aching pain of desire in his lungs.

The obstinacy of antiquated institutions in perpetuating themselves resembles the stubbornness of the rancid perfume which should claim our hair, the pretensions of the spoiled fish which should persist in being eaten, the persecution of the child's garment which should insist on clothing the man, the tenderness of corpses which should return to embrace the living. "Ingrates!" says the garment, "I protected you in inclement weather. Why will you have nothing to do with me?" "I have just come from the deep sea," says the fish. "I have been a rose," says the perfume. "I have loved you," says the corpse. "I have civilized you," says the convent. To this there is but one reply: "In former days." To dream of the indefinite prolongation of defunct things, and of the government of men by embalming, to restore dogmas in a bad condition, to regild shrines, to patch up cloisters, to rebless reliquaries, to refurnish superstitions, to revictual fanaticisms, to put new handles on holy water brushes and militarism, to reconstitute monasticism and militarism, to believe in the salvation of society by the multiplication of parasites, to force the past on the present, – this seems strange. Still, there are theorists who hold such theories. These theorists, who are in other respects people of intelligence, have a very simple process; they apply to the past a glazing which they call social order, divine right, morality, family, the respect of elders, antique authority, sacred tradition, legitimacy, religion; and they go about shouting, "Look! take this, honest people." This logic was known to the ancients. The soothsayers practise it. They rubbed a black heifer over with chalk, and said, "She is white, Bos cretatus." As for us, we respect the past here and there, and we spare it, above all, provided that it consents to be dead. If it insists on being alive, we attack it, and we try to kill it. Superstitions, bigotries, affected devotion, prejudices, those forms all forms as they are, are tenacious of life; they have teeth and nails in their smoke, and they must be clasped close, body to body, and war must be made on them, and that without truce; for it is one of the fatalities of humanity to be condemned to eternal combat with phantoms. It is difficult to seize darkness by the throat, and to hurl it to the earth.

If you stay, I promise to give you the best love story ever told, every day, for the rest of our lives. I was forced into the shadows, and I’ve made my home here. But I’ve only ever wanted to share a life with someone. Like my parents shared. The kind of love that consumes you in life and leaves you a shell when the other goes too soon. I used to feel sorry for my mother, but some days she gets to escape to a world where the love of her life still exists. He’s not just a phantom, he is her everything. I want to be that for you, with you. I want one love that survives this lifetime.

Dark matter is just as real as the many exoplanets discovered in orbit around stars other than the Sun, discovered solely through their gravitational influence on their host stars and not from direct measurement of their light. The worst that can happen is we discover that dark matter does not consist of matter at all, but of something else. Could we be seeing the effects of forces from another dimension? Are we feeling the ordinary gravity of ordinary matter crossing the membrane of a phantom universe adjacent to ours? If so, this could be just one of an infinite assortment of universes that comprise the multiverse.

Millions of microscopic fragments of Julia now lay, invisibly, on the speckled beige linoleum tiles of the classroom floor. What was left in her chair was a phantom of Julia, which she learned to project at these moments, by sheer force of will, until she could resemble herself, a process that would take days, even weeks, and was never entirely successful.

Suddenly the dressing-room of La Sorelli, one of the principal dancers, was invaded by half-a-dozen young ladies of the ballet, who had come up from the stage after “dancing” Polyeucte. They rushed in amid great confusion, some giving vent to forced and unnatural laughter, others to cries of terror. Sorelli, who wished to be alone for a moment to “run through” the speech which she was to make to the resigning managers, looked around angrily at the mad and tumultuous crowd. It was little Jammes—the girl with the tip-tilted nose, the forget-me-not eyes, the rose-red cheeks and the lily-white neck and shoulders—who gave the explanation in a trembling voice: “It’s the ghost!” And she locked the door. - Chapter 1: Is it the Ghost?

How clear she shines ! How quietly I lie beneath her guardian light; While heaven and earth are whispering me, " To morrow, wake, but, dream to-night." Yes, Fancy, come, my Fairy love ! These throbbing temples softly kiss; And bend my lonely couch above And bring me rest, and bring me bliss. The world is going; dark world, adieu ! Grim world, conceal thee till the day; The heart, thou canst not all subdue, Must still resist, if thou delay ! Thy love I will not, will not share; Thy hatred only wakes a smile; Thy griefs may wound–thy wrongs may tear, But, oh, thy lies shall ne'er beguile ! While gazing on the stars that glow Above me, in that stormless sea, I long to hope that all the woe Creation knows, is held in thee ! And, this shall be my dream to-night; I'll think the heaven of glorious spheres [Page 104] Is rolling on its course of light In endless bliss, through endless years; I'll think, there's not one world above, Far as these straining eyes can see, Where Wisdom ever laughed at Love, Or Virtue crouched to Infamy; Where, writhing 'neath the strokes of Fate, The mangled wretch was forced to smile; To match his patience 'gainst her hate, His heart rebellious all the while. Where Pleasure still will lead to wrong, And helpless Reason warn in vain; And Truth is weak, and Treachery strong; And Joy the surest path to Pain; And Peace, the lethargy of Grief; And Hope, a phantom of the soul; And Life, a labour, void and brief; And Death, the despot of the whole !

The space center's proximity to my backyard came to signify an intersection between heaven and hell. Florida was somewhere between the two; it was America's phantom limb, a place where spaceships were catapulted out into the cosmos. Alligators emerged from brackish water. Vultures and hawks circled above. Mosquitoes patrolled the atmosphere at eye level. We shared an ocean with sharks and dolphins. There were no seasons, only variations of humidity. Time slithered, festering in a damp wake of recollections. I believed in the Bermuda Triangle. I thought it would move in over Florida one night. By dusk an unknown force would vaporize us through a tear in the atmosphere. We'd be stuck, wandering in a parallel version of the same place, unaware that we were dead but dreaming. People came here to vanish.

If they were searching for books with tropes like enemies to lovers, second chance romance, morally gray heroes, fated mates, vampire royalty, fake relationships, jilted brides, love triangles, forced proximity, or reverse harem… I was the ghostess with the mostest. If they wanted recommendations for books with the most unique male anatomy… I held the world’s only PHD on the subject. And by PHD, I meant I was the Poltergeist of Hung Dudes. Or was it Phantom of Huge Dicks?

On this way, they reached the roof. Christine tripped over it as lightly as a swallow. Their eyes swept the empty space between the three domes and the triangular pediment. She breathed freely over Paris, the whole valley of which was seen at work below. She called Raoul to come quite close to her and they walked side by side along the zinc streets, in the leaden avenues; they looked at their twin shapes in the huge tanks, full of stagnant water, where, in the hot weather, the little boys of the ballet, a score or so, learn to swim and dive. The shadow had followed behind them clinging to their steps; and the two children little suspected its presence when they at last sat down, trustingly, under the mighty protection of Apollo, who, with a great bronze gesture, lifted his huge lyre to the heart of a crimson sky. It was a gorgeous spring evening. Clouds, which had just received their gossamer robe of gold and purple from the setting sun, drifted slowly by; and Christine said to Raoul: “Soon we shall go farther and faster than the clouds, to the end of the world, and then you will leave me, Raoul. But, if, when the moment comes for you to take me away, I refuse to go with you—well you must carry me off by force!” “Are you afraid that you will change your mind, Christine?” “I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head in an odd fashion. “He is a demon!” And she shivered and nestled in his arms with a moan. “I am afraid now of going back to live with him … in the ground!” “What compels you to go back, Christine?” “If I do not go back to him, terrible misfortunes may happen! … But I can’t do it, I can’t do it! … I know one ought to be sorry for people who live underground … But he is too horrible! And yet the time is at hand; I have only a day left; and, if I do not go, he will come and fetch me with his voice. And he will drag me with him, underground, and go on his knees before me, with his death’s head. And he will tell me that he loves me! And he will cry! Oh, those tears, Raoul, those tears in the two black eye-sockets of the death’s head! I can not see those tears flow again!” She wrung her hands in anguish, while Raoul pressed her to his heart. “No, no, you shall never again hear him tell you that he loves you! You shall not see his tears! Let us fly, Christine, let us fly at once!” And he tried to drag her away, then and there. But she stopped him. “No, no,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “Not now! … It would be too cruel … let him hear me sing to-morrow evening … and then we will go away. You must come and fetch me in my dressing-room at midnight exactly. He will then be waiting for me in the dining-room by the lake … we shall be free and you shall take me away … You must promise me that, Raoul, even if I refuse; for I feel that, if I go back this time, I shall perhaps never return.” And she gave a sigh to which it seemed to her that another sigh, behind her, replied. “Didn’t you hear?” Her teeth chattered. “No,” said Raoul, “I heard nothing.” - Chapter 12: Apollo’s Lyre

Enough!’ he uttered decisively and solemnly. ‘No more mirages! No more false fears! No more phantoms! … There is life! Wasn’t I alive just now? So my life hasn’t died yet together with the old hag! May you see the kingdom of heaven – and that’s your lot, old mother, your time’s up! Now for the kingdom of reason and light and … and will, and strength … and now we’ll see! Now we’ll see how we measure up!’ he added haughtily, as though addressing and challenging some force of darkness. ‘Haven’t I already agreed to live on one square yard?

Times like these are the great periods in world history because they represent an evolutionary advance and a further unfolding of the unknown Purpose (unknown as yet to us) which guides the evolutionary process. Such times bring about a liberation of the human spirit for higher and nobler achievements ahead. The forces guiding evolution are divine and purposeful and therefore cannot be thwarted by humanity. However, endowed as we are with free will, we have the choice of delaying progress or of hastening it. But in the end, resistance is futile.

Oh, God! to sail with such a heathen crew that have small touch of human mothers in them! Whelped somewhere by the sharkish sea. The white whale is their demigorgon. Hark! the infernal orgies! that revelry is forward! mark the unfaltering silence aft! Methinks it pictures life. Foremost through the sparkling sea shoots on the gay, embattled, bantering bow, but only to drag dark Ahab after it, where he broods within his sternward cabin, builded over the dead water of the wake, and further on, hunted by its wolfish gurglings. The long howl thrills me through! Peace! ye revellers, and set the watch! Oh, life! 'tis in an hour like this, with soul beat down and held to knowledge, as wild, untutored things are forced to feed. Oh, life! 'tis now that I do feel the latent horror in thee! but 'tis not me! that horror's out of me! and with the soft feeling of the human in me, yet will I try to fight ye, ye grim, phantom futures! Stand by me, hold me, bind me, O ye blessed influences!

There is a lesson to be drawn from Houston’s career as a populist leader. He would twice be elected president of the Republic of Texas, which his decisive victory had secured. After Texas entered the Union, on December 29, 1845, Houston became one of the first two U.S. senators from the state of Texas. He clearly envisioned the disaster that the proposed Southern Confederacy would inflict on the nation and on Texas: “I see my beloved South go down in the unequal contest, in a sea of blood and smoking ruin.” In 1860, on the eve of the Civil War, he was elected governor as a Unionist, but the secessionists were more powerful. Houston’s faith in populism as a force for progress was shattered. “Are we ready to sell reality for a phantom?” Houston vainly asked, as propagandists and demagogues fanned the clamor for secession with deluded visions of victory. To those who demanded that he join the Confederacy, Houston responded, “I refuse to take this oath…I love Texas too well to bring civil strife and bloodshed upon her.” Houston was evicted as governor, and the bloodshed

I'm sorry.' It was those two words that shattered me. Shattered me in a way I didn't know I could still be broken, a rending of every tether and leash. Stay with the High Lord. The Suriel's last warning. Stay... and live to see everything righted. A lie. A lie, as Rhys had lied to me. Stay with the High Lord. Stay. For there... the torn scraps of the mating bond. Floating on a phantom wind inside me. I grasped at them- tugged at them, as if he'd answer. Stay. Stay, stay, stay. I clung to those scraps and remnants, clawing at the voice that lurked beyond. Stay. I looked up at Tarquin, lip curling back from my teeth. Looked at Helion. And Thesan. And Beon and Kallias, Viviane weeping at his side. And I snarkled, 'Bring him back.' Blank faces. I screamed at them, 'BRING HIM BACK.' Nothing. 'You did it for me,' I said, breathing hard. 'Now do it for him.' 'You were human,' Helion said carefully. 'It is not the same-' 'I don't care. Do it.' When they didn't move, I rallied the dregs of my power, readying to rip into their minds and force them, not caring what rules or laws it broke. I wouldn't care, only if- Tarquin stepped forward. He slowly extended his hand toward me. 'For what he gave,' Tarquin said quietly. 'Today and for many years before.' And as the seed of light appeared in his palm... I began crying again. Watched it drop onto Rhys's bare throat and vanish onto the skin beneath, an echo of light flaring once. Helion stepped forward. That kernel of light in his hand flickered as it fell onto Rhys's skin. Then Kallias. And Thesan. Until only Beron stood there. Mor drew her sword and laid it on his throat. He jerked, having not seen her move. 'I do not mind making one more kill today,' she said. Beron gave her a withering glare, but shoved off the sword and strode forward. He practically chucked that fleck of light onto Rhys. I didn't care about that, either. I didn't know the spell, the power it came from. But I was High Lady. I held out my palm. Willing the spark of life to appear. Nothing happened. I took a steadying breath, remembering how it had looked. 'Tell me how,' I growled to no one. Thesan coughed and stepped forward. Explaining the core of power and on and on and I didn't care, but I listened, until- There. Small as a sunflower seed, it appeared in my palm. A bit of me- my life. I laid it gently on Rhys's blood-crusted throat. And I realised, just as he appeared, what was missing. Tamlin stood there, summoned by either the death of a fellow High Lord or one of the others around me. He was splattered in mud and gore, his new bandolier of knives mostly empty. He studied Rhys, lifeless before me. Studied all of us- the palms still out. There was no kindness on his face. No mercy. 'Please,' was all I said to him. Then Tamlin glanced between us- me and my mate. His face did not change. 'Please,' I wept. 'I will- I will give you anything-' Something shifted in his eyes at that. But not kindness. No emotion at all. I laid my head on Rhysand's chest, listening for any kind of heartbeat through that armour. 'Anything,' I breathed to no one in particular. 'Anything.' Steps scuffed on the rocky ground. I braced myself for another set of hands trying to pull me away, and dug my fingers in harder. The steps remained behind me for long enough that I looked. Tamlin stood there. Staring down at me. Those green eyes swimming with some emotion I couldn't place. 'Be happy, Feyre,' he said quietly. And dropped that final kernel of light onto Rhysand.

Nevertheless, in certain respects and in certain places, despite philosophy, despite progress, the spirit of the cloister lingers on, in the middle of the nineteenth century, and a bizarre new outbreak of asceticism now astounds the civilized world. The persistence of antiquated institutions in perpetuating themselves is like the stubbornness of stale scent clinging to your hair, the urgency of spoiled fish clamouring to be eaten, the oppression of childish garb expecting to clothe the adult, and the tenderness of corpses wanting to come back to kiss the living. 'Ungrateful wretch!' says the garment. 'I protected you in bad weather. Why will you have nothing more to do with me?' 'I come from the open sea,' says the fish. 'I was a rose,' says the perfume. 'I loved you,' says the corpse. 'I civilized you,' says the convent. There is only one answer to this: once upon a time. To dream of the indefinite protraction of defunct things and of embalmment as a way of governing mankind, to restore ravaged dogmas, regild shrines, patch up cloisters, re-bless reliquaries, revitalize superstitions, refuel fanaticisms, replace the handles on holy-water sprinklers and on sabres, recreate monasticism and militarism, to believe in the salvation of society by the multiplication of the parasites, to force the past on the present - this seems strange. Still, there are theorists who propound these theories. Such theorists, and they are intelligent people, have a very simple method: they put a gloss on the past, a gloss they call 'social order', 'divine right', 'morality', 'family', 'respect for elders', 'ancient authority', 'sacred tradition', 'legitimacy', 'religion', and they go about shouting, 'Look! Take this, honest people.' This logic was known to the ancients The haruspices practiced it. They rubbed a black heifer with chalk and said, 'It's white.' We ourselves respect the past in certain instances and in all cases grant it clemency, provided it consents to being dead. If it insists on being alive, we attack and try to kill it. Superstitions, bigotries, false pieties, prejudices, these spectres, for all that they are spectres, cling to life. They have teeth and nails in their vaporousness, and they must be tackled head-on, and war must be waged against them, and it must be waged constantly. For it is one of the fates of humanity to be doomed to eternal battle against phantoms. Shades are difficult to throttle and destroy.

It was the first time that I entered the house on the lake. I had often begged the “trap-door lover,” as we used to call Erik in my country, to open its mysterious doors to me. He always refused. I made very many attempts, but in vain, to obtain admittance. Watch him as I might, after I first learned that he had taken up his permanent abode at the Opera, the darkness was always too thick to enable me to see how he worked the door in the wall on the lake. One day, when I thought myself alone, I stepped into the boat and rowed toward that part of the wall through which I had seen Erik disappear. It was then that I came into contact with the siren who guarded the approach and whose charm was very nearly fatal to me. I had no sooner put off from the bank than the silence amid which I floated on the water was disturbed by a sort of whispered singing that hovered all around me. It was half breath, half music; it rose softly from the waters of the lake; and I was surrounded by it through I knew not what artifice. It followed me, moved with me and was so soft that it did not alarm me. On the contrary, in my longing to approach the source of that sweet and enticing harmony, I leaned out of my little boat over the water, for there was no doubt in my mind that the singing came from the water itself. By this time, I was alone in the boat in the middle of the lake; the voice—for it was now distinctly a voice—was beside me, on the water. I leaned over, leaned still farther. The lake was perfectly calm, and a moonbeam that passed through the air hole in the Rue Scribe showed me absolutely nothing on its surface, which was smooth and black as ink. I shook my ears to get rid of a possible humming; but I soon had to accept the fact that there was no humming in the ears so harmonious as the singing whisper that followed and now attracted me. Had I been inclined to superstition, I should have certainly thought that I had to do with some siren whose business it was to confound the traveler who should venture on the waters of the house on the lake. Fortunately, I come from a country where we are too fond of fantastic things not to know them through and through; and I had no doubt but that I was face to face with some new invention of Erik’s. But this invention was so perfect that, as I leaned out of the boat, I was impelled less by a desire to discover its trick than to enjoy its charm; and I leaned out, leaned out until I almost overturned the boat. Suddenly, two monstrous arms issued from the bosom of the waters and seized me by the neck, dragging me down to the depths with irresistible force. I should certainly have been lost, if I had not had time to give a cry by which Erik knew me. For it was he; and, instead of drowning me, as was certainly his first intention, he swam with me and laid me gently on the bank: “How imprudent you are!” he said, as he stood before me, dripping with water. “Why try to enter my house? I never invited you! I don’t want you there, nor anybody! Did you save my life only to make it unbearable to me? However great the service you rendered him, Erik may end by forgetting it; and you know that nothing can restrain Erik, not even Erik himself.” He spoke, but I had now no other wish than to know what I already called the trick of the siren. He satisfied my curiosity, for Erik, who is a real monster—I have seen him at work in Persia, alas—is also, in certain respects, a regular child, vain and self-conceited, and there is nothing he loves so much, after astonishing people, as to prove all the really miraculous ingenuity of his mind. He laughed and showed me a long reed. “It’s the silliest trick you ever saw,” he said, “but it’s very useful for breathing and singing in the water. I learned it from the Tonkin pirates, who are able to remain hidden for hours in the beds of the rivers.

People today are used to seeing not only the incredible but the impossible as well, all provided by the mega-pixel. We witness miracles and dismiss them as diversions. The line between reality and fantasy has been blurred to the point that we no longer know what it is we see, and so put little faith in the experience. And there is no darkness anymore, no place for things like mystery and magic to make their abode. There is nothing nowadays that is not exposed, caught on camera and pixilated to be stored and classified forever in some phantom zone called cyber space. Nothing is too small to remain unseen by our microscopes or too far away to be seen by our satellites. The world is a strumpet, every inch of her exposed and explored. Whether she is thrusting herself into the camera's gaze, or we as voyeurs intrude upon her most intimate moments, nothing is left to the imagination. The world today is all light and no darkness. But too much light can blind. An excess of it deprives our eyes from the necessary contrast required to give definition to what we see. The light precludes magic, gives us explanations in its place. It denies love and informs us of the chemicals in the brain that are active given certain conditions. We have gained knowledge but in the process we have been forced to surrender the very reasons we sought knowledge in the first place.

Anarchism is the great liberator of man from the phantoms that have held him captive; it is the arbiter and pacifier of the two forces for individual and social harmony. To accomplish that unity, Anarchism has declared war on the pernicious influences which have so far prevented the harmonious blending of individual and social instincts, the individual and society. Religion, the dominion of the human mind; Property, the dominion of human needs; and Government, the dominion of human conduct, represent the stronghold of man's enslavement and all the horrors it entails. Religion! How it dominates man's mind, how it humiliates and degrades his soul. God is everything, man is nothing, says religion. But out of that nothing God has created a kingdom so despotic, so tyrannical, so cruel, so terribly exacting that naught but gloom and tears and blood have ruled the world since gods began. Anarchism rouses man to rebellion against this black monster. Break your mental fetters, says Anarchism to man, for not until you think and judge for yourself will you get rid of the dominion of darkness, the greatest obstacle to all progress. Property, the dominion of man's needs, the denial of the right to satisfy his needs. Time was when property claimed a divine right, when it came to man with the same refrain, even as religion, "Sacrifice! Abnegate! Submit!" The spirit of Anarchism has lifted man from his prostrate position. He now stands erect, with his face toward the light. He has learned to see the insatiable, devouring, devastating nature of property, and he is preparing to strike the monster dead. "Property is robbery," said the great French Anarchist, Proudhon. Yes, but without risk and danger to the robber. Monopolizing the accumulated efforts of man, property has robbed him of his birthright, and has turned him loose a pauper and an outcast. Property has not even the time-worn excuse that man does not create enough to satisfy all needs. The A B C student of economics knows that the productivity of labor within the last few decades far exceeds normal demand a hundredfold. But what are normal demands to an abnormal institution? The only demand that property recognizes is its own gluttonous appetite for greater wealth, because wealth means power; the power to subdue, to crush, to exploit, the power to enslave, to outrage, to degrade. America is particularly boastful of her great power, her enormous national wealth. Poor America, of what avail is all her wealth, if the individuals comprising the nation are wretchedly poor? If they live in squalor, in filth, in crime, with hope and joy gone, a homeless, soilless army of human prey. It is generally conceded that unless the returns of any business venture exceed the cost, bankruptcy is inevitable. But those engaged in the business of producing wealth have not yet learned even this simple lesson. Every year the cost of production in human life is growing larger (50,000 killed, 100,000 wounded in America last year); the returns to the masses, who help to create wealth, are ever getting smaller. Yet America continues to be blind to the inevitable bankruptcy of our business of production. Nor is this the only crime of the latter. Still more fatal is the crime of turning the producer into a mere particle of a machine, with less will and decision than his master of steel and iron. Man is being robbed not merely of the products of his labor, but of the power of free initiative, of originality, and the interest in, or desire for, the things he is making.

The year 1944 was the year of the greatest burdens in this mighty struggle. It was a year that again proved conclusively that the bourgeois social order is no longer capable of braving the storms of the present or of the coming age. State after state that does not find its way to a truly social reorganization will go down the path to chaos. The liberal age is a thing of the past. The belief that you can counter this invasion of the people by parliamentary-democratic half-measures is childish and just as naive as Metternich’s methods when the national drives for unification were making their way through the nineteenth century. The lack of a truly social, new form of life results in the lack of the mental will to resist not only in the nations but also in the lack of the moral power of resistance of their leaders. In all countries we see that the attempted renaissance of a democracy has proved fruitless. The confused tangle of political dilettantes and military politicians of a bygone bourgeois world who order each other around is, with deadly certainty, preparing for a plunge into chaos and, insofar as Europe is concerned, into an economic and ethnic catastrophe. And, after all, one thing has already been proved: this most densely populated continent in the world will either have to live with an order that gives the greatest consideration to individual abilities, guarantees the greatest accomplishments, and, by taming all egotistical drives, prevents their excesses, or states such as we have in central and western Europe will prove unfit for life, which means that their nations are thereby doomed to perish! In this manner-following the example of royal Italy-Finland, Romania, Bulgaria, and Hungary collapsed during this year. This collapse is primarily the result of the cowardice and lack of resolve of their leaders. They and their actions can be understood only in light of the corrupt and socially amoral atmosphere of the bourgeois world. The hatred which many statesmen, especially in these countries, express for the present German Reich is nothing other than the voice of a guilty conscience, an expression of an inferiority complex in view of our organization of a human community that is suspicious to them because we successfully pursue goals that again do not correspond to their own narrow economic egotism and their resulting political shortsightedness. For us, my German Volksgenossen, this, however, represents a new obligation to recognize ever more clearly that the existence or nonexistence of a German future depends on the uncompromising organization of our Volksstaat, that all the sacrifices which our Volk must make are conceivable only under the condition of a social order which clears away all privileges and thereby makes the entire Volk not only bear the same duties but also possess the same vital rights. Above all, it must mercilessly destroy the social phantoms of a bygone era. In their stead, it must place the most valuable reality there is, namely the Volk, the masses which, tied together by the same blood, essence, and experiences of a long history, owe their origin as an individual existence not to an earthly arbitrariness but to the inscrutable will of the Almighty. The insight into the moral value of our conviction and the resulting objectives of our struggle for life give us and, above all, give me the strength to continue to wage this fight in the most difficult hours with the strongest faith and with an unshakable confidence. In such hours, this conviction also ties the Volk to its leadership. It assured the unanimous approval of the appeal that I was forced to direct to the German Volk in a particularly urgent way this year. New Year’s Proclamation to the National Socialists and Party Comrades Fuhrer Headquarters, January 1, 1945

It is your name,” he said simply. “Not anymore.” Not in a long time. Not since the day of her father’s funeral, and hatred had become her guiding force.

The STAR WARS Novels Timeline OLD REPUBLIC 5000–33 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Lost Tribe of the Sith* Precipice Skyborn Paragon Savior Purgatory Sentinel 3650 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Old Republic: Deceived Lost Tribe of the Sith* Pantheon Secrets Red Harvest The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance 1032 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Knight Errant Darth Bane: Path of Destruction Darth Bane: Rule of Two Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil RISE OF THE EMPIRE 33–0 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Darth Maul: Saboteur* Cloak of Deception Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter 32 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace Rogue Planet Outbound Flight The Approaching Storm 22 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 22–19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Clone Wars The Clone Wars: Wild Space The Clone Wars: No Prisoners Clone Wars Gambit Stealth Siege Republic Commando Hard Contact Triple Zero True Colors Order 66 Shatterpoint The Cestus Deception The Hive* MedStar I: Battle Surgeons MedStar II: Jedi Healer Jedi Trial Yoda: Dark Rendezvous Labyrinth of Evil 19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE III: Revenge of the Sith Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader Imperial Commando 501st Coruscant Nights Jedi Twilight Street of Shadows Patterns of Force The

Though the Casimir force-a mysterious, phantom force exerted by nothing at all-seems like science fiction, it exists. It is a tiny force and very difficult to measure, but in 1995 the physicist Steven Lamoreaux measured the Casimir effect directly. By putting two gold-covered plates on a sensitive twist-measuring device, he determined how much force it took to counteract the Casimir force between them. The answer-about the weight of one slice of an ant that's been chopped into 30,000 pieces-agreed with Casimir's theory. Lamoreaux had measured the force exerted by empty space.

But it was really the then-popular right-wing demagogue Glenn Beck who gave Republicans a taste of what was to come as the recession deepened. Beck was an apocalyptic yet strangely ebullient conspiracy theorist who on his daily Fox News broadcasts filled blackboard after blackboard with crazy Venn diagrams exposing the hidden links between 1960s radicals and Barack Obama. But he also broke with many Republican dogmas, particularly on economics and foreign policy, writing in one of his books, “Under President Bush, politics and global corporations dictated much of our economic and border policy. Nation building and internationalism also played a huge role in our move away from the founding principles.” Beck’s economic nationalism and isolationism struck a chord with the public, and many flocked to his sold-out rallies to hear him denounce phantom leftists but also Wall Street and the big banks. He even wrote a bestselling thriller in which all these evil forces join hands to squelch American liberty. For all his bombast, Beck was among the first on the right to report the truth that the American middle class was being hollowed out and that its children faced drastically reduced prospects. That a small class of highly educated people was benefiting from the new global economy and becoming fantastically wealthy. And that vast sections of the country had become deserted, heartbroken . . . and angry. Mainstream Republicans never got the message. Donald Trump did.

Hamilton sketched out this phantom force in microscopic detail, producing comprehensive charts for regiments, battalions, and companies. In a typical passage, Hamilton was to write, “A company is subdivided equally into two platoons, a platoon into two sections and a section into two squads, a squad consisting of four files of three or six files of two.”89 He assigned ranks to officers, set up recruiting stations, stocked arsenals with ammunition, and drew up numerous regulations.

VIBRATION = ETHERIC Essentially, the etheric is the vibration layer: you sense the etheric while you feel the vibration. That assertion is too simplistic to be completely true, and some etheric levels of light and astral vibration can be discerned later. But the equation: ‘vibration= etheric’ is an excellent reference in the beginning to make sense of your experiences. Vibrating movement in your feet, for example, means that in the hands, the etheric life force is set in motion. Feeling the eyebrows movement means that the third eye's etheric layer is triggered...and more, for any part of your body, or even outside your body's limits. Not only does the etheric permeate the physical body, but it also spreads beyond it in proportions that may vary depending on different internal factors. When the vibration seems to be more intense in your hands or elsewhere, it means that you are coming into contact with the etheric body's deeper and more complex layers. We use external stimuli in the beginning to awaken the etheric vibration sensation. Afterward, without rubbing or using any other external stimulus, you can get the same feeling. The sound is going to come from within. Therefore, I would say that you do not think too much about whether the experience is real or etheric or theoretical in these first stages of training. Believe in your experience. A very simple evidence of the vibrations of non-physical nature would be to cut off your physical hand and know that you still feel the same vibration as in amputees ' phantom limb syndrome. Some signs of this vibration's non-physical nature would be that you will feel it in all kinds of places in your body, without any form of physical stimulation or rubbing. You will even sense it beyond the limits of your physical body, first around you, and then in objects that are increasingly distant. The etheric movement sense will then be completely separated from any physical sensation. In any case, please remember that there is nothing (and therefore nothing to doubt either) to believe in the approach. It is not what you believe that matters, but what you interpret. The constant focus is on learning directly. Know how to interpret this vibrating force and then determine how to comprehend it.

I am Adelina Amouteru, the phantoms whispered to my father, speaking my most frightening thoughts in a chorus of voices, dripping with hatred. My hatred. I belong to no one. On this night, I swear to you that I will rise above everything you’ve ever taught me. I will become a force that this world has never known. I will come into such power that none will dare hurt me again.

Distractions In Prayer Ah dearest Lord! I cannot pray, My fancy is not free; Unmannerly distractions come, And force my thoughts from Thee. The world that looks so dull all day Glows bright on me at prayer, And plans that ask no thought but then Wake up and meet me there. All nature one full fountain seems Of dreamy sight and sound, Which, when I kneel, breaks up its deeps, And makes a deluge round. Old voices murmur in my ear, New hopes start to life, And past and future gaily blend In one bewitching strife. My very flesh has restless fits; My changeful limbs conspire With all these phantoms of the mind My inner self to tire. I cannot pray; yet, Lord! Thou knowst The pain it is to me To have my vainly struggling thoughts Thus torn away from Thee. Sweet Jesus! teach me how to prize These tedious hours when I, Foolish and mute before Thy Face, In helpless worship lie. Prayer was not meant for luxury, Or selfish pastime sweet; It is the prostrate creature’s place At his Creator’s Feet. Had I, dear Lord! no pleasure found But in the thought of Thee, Prayer would have come unsought, and been A truer liberty. Yet Thou art oft most present, Lord! In weak distracted prayer: A sinner out of heart with self Most often finds Thee there. For prayer that humbles sets the soul From all illusions free, And teaches it how utterly, Dear Lord! it hangs on Thee. The heart, that on self-sacrifice Is covetously bent, Will bless Thy chastening hand that makes Its prayer its punishment. Holy Saviour! why should I complain And why fear aught but sin? Distractions are but outward things; Thy peace dwells far within. These surface-troubles come and go, Like rufflings of the sea; The deeper depth is out of reach To all, my God, but Thee. FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, 1814-1863

Many are avidly seeking but they alone find who remain in continual silence. . . . Every man who delights in a multitude of words, even though he says admirable things, is empty within. If you love truth, be a lover of silence. Silence like the sunlight will illuminate you in God and will deliver you from the phantoms of ignorance. Silence will unite you to God himself. . . . More than all things love silence: it brings you a fruit that tongue cannot describe. In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then there is born something that draws us to silence. May God give you an experience of this “something” that is born of silence. If only you practice this, untold light will dawn on you in consequence . . . after a while a certain sweetness is born in the heart of this exercise and the body is drawn almost by force to remain in silence. — Isaac of Nineveh

So love with phantoms cheats our longing eyes, Which hourly seeing never satisfies; Our hands pull nothing from the parts they strain, But wander o’er the lovely limbs in vain: Nor when the youthful pair more closely join, When hands in hands they lock, and thighs in thighs they twine, Just in the raging foam of full desire, When both press on, both murmur, both expire, They gripe, they squeeze, their humid tongues they dart, As each would force their way to t’other’s heart – In vain; they only cruise about the coast, For bodies cannot pierce, nor be in bodies lost.

Renward Cysat first mentioned the wind when he told of the hauntings of Pilatus Lake. There are other spirits too up in these high and wild Alps. Some of them can be seen and heard only at night, sometimes riding horses and sometimes taking the shapes of real people whom we know to be living. Sometimes, they come up the mountain and through the forest near Lake Pilatus, riding and racing with a full charge of horses in such a mass as if they were several hundred horses and with such a loud rushing and with such force that the whole mountain seems to be shaken by them. It sounds like an earthquake and as if many cannons were being fired at once. Sometimes, it roars around the dairy huts at night, making such a wind and such a shaking [und macht einen wind und zittern] that it feels as if it is going to collapse.8 Cysat a second time mentions Lake Pilatus, whose surroundings abound in “evil and diabolical spirits” that are so numerous that they fill the night with their awful cries (grusamen gschrey) “like a strong squall (ouch glychsam alls jn einer starcken windsbrut), although the weather in the valley is beautifully still and clear.

The dead are never impotent or powerless. They continue to meddle in human affairs and they remain a force with which to be reckoned. They customarily appear on certain dates when communication is established between this world and the next, when they have a decisive value in our lives.

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.” —Yoda, Episode I: The Phantom Menace

Inside, the tent was sectioned off by cloth walls. In the main area where they entered, there was a table with four chairs and an arming stand that held the knight’s chain mail, helm, and sword. “Ioan?” Christian called. No one answered. As they turned to leave, they were confronted by what appeared to be a young archer who was surely no older than the boy who had led them here. Several inches shorter than Adara, he was gangly and thin, with raven-black hair and brown eyes that watched them warily. He held his bow at the ready with an arrow already nocked. “Who are you and what business have you with Lord Ioan?” he asked in a gruff, low tone. “We are old friends,” Christian said calmly. Phantom moved toward him. The archer turned quickly and let fly the arrow. Phantom caught it midflight, but before he could take another step, the archer swung the bow and caught him upside his head with it. Phantom staggered back from the force of the blow. The archer struck again and knocked him to the ground. Christian moved toward them. Before Adara could blink, the archer had another arrow nocked and ready to fly into Christian’s chest. “Corryn, cease!” The Welsh-accented voice rang through the room like thunder. Adara looked at the entrance to see a tall, well-muscled man there who bore a striking resemblance to the archer. His wavy black hair fell to his shoulders and a full beard covered his cheeks. He looked wild and untamed as he put himself between the archer and Christian. “What has gotten into your head, Spider?” he asked the archer in his thick, rolling accent. “They came here looking for you,” the archer said brashly, as if the larger man’s anger didn’t concern him at all. He finally unnocked the arrow. “After the message from Stryder saying there were assassins out to kill you, I thought I was protecting you, brawd.” The man she assumed must be Ioan made a disgusted noise at him. “God save me from your protection. Did it never occur to you that an assassin wouldn’t bother to come into my tent and announce himself?” He said something in a language Adara didn’t understand, but by Corryn’s reaction, it must have been a curse or reprimand of some kind. “Now apologize. You almost took the head off the Abbot, and it’s the Phantom who you’ve knocked to the ground.” The archer’s face went pale at that. Ioan stepped away from the boy to offer his hand to Phantom, who took it. He helped him back up to his feet. “You’ll have to forgive my brother, Phantom. He’s a damned fool.” “Are you the Abbot?” Corryn asked Christian. “Aye.” The boy’s lips quivered before he threw himself into Christian’s arms. “May the saints guard your blessed soul throughout all eternity!” Christian looked awkward as he frowned at Ioan. “Brother?” Ioan’s gaze turned dark, dangerous as he pulled Corryn back. Still Corryn stared at Christian with hero worship. “Thank you, Abbot, for bringing my brother back to me.” “Get out of here, scamp,” Ioan said gruffly, “before I skin you.” Corryn curled his lip at Ioan. “I spoke too soon, Abbott. Curses to you, that you brought his surly hide home. Methinks you should have left him there to rot.” He turned to Phantom. “My apologies to you, sir. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Phantom shook the boy’s arm. “I admire anyone who can get the better of me. It doesn’t happen often.” “Corryn!” “I’m leaving,” he snapped. “To the devil with your hoary hide.” -Christian, Corryn, Ioan, & Phantom

Adara fought the guards, but in the end she was forced to submit for fear of hurting her unborn child. They grabbed her arms roughly and led her behind the bishop and his priests. The hallway was dismal and horrifying. The screams grew louder. As soon as the priests opened the door to her new cell, the bishop froze. Adara didn’t know why until she saw knights surrounding them. “Let her go.” Her knees weakened at the sound of Christian’s thundering voice. She looked past the bishop to see Christian in the room with Phantom and Ioan. Never had he been more welcome or handsome to her. The bishop glared at him. “You’d best remember your place, brother, as well as who you serve.” “You’d best be warned, Your Grace,” Lutian said in his fool’s voice. “Lord Christian has a mighty sword beneath his robes. Mighty indeed.” The bishop frowned at Christian. “Monks are forbidden to arm themselves. You should know that.” “I’m not a monk,” Christian said as he came forward. “And you will not interrogate my wife for a crime she did not commit.” The man curled his lip as if the idea of any man telling him what to do were the most repugnant action he could imagine. “I have the backing of the Church for what I do.” “And I have the backing of an army who will lay waste to every man here if needs be, should you not heed my words.” The bishop was aghast. “You would threaten me?” Christian didn’t hesitate with his answer. “For her life, aye.” “You would jeopardize your soul for her? She is a heretic and a witch.” “She is a woman. My woman.” His words only succeeded in angering the bishop more. “I will have you excommunicated for this.” Christian pulled the black monk’s robe from over his head and balled it up. “Then excommunicate me. If I am in the wrong for protecting an innocent woman, then God can judge me as He will.” He handed the robe to the bishop, then pushed past him to Adara’s side. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come for you sooner,” he said to her. “I will have you killed for this!” the bishop screamed. Christian gave him an angry glare. “Then I will see you in hell.

At incredible velocity and accelerating exponentially, the concentrated volume of quintessence escaped, transforming as it did so into a state known as phantom energy and following the artificial line of egress that had been provided.

Use the Force! But use the bathroom first if you need to.

could land or take off from the planet. They hoped that the young Queen of Naboo would agree quickly to their demands. Then they could use Naboo as an example to persuade or force other planets to do the same. But

Although CSPI had originally been a major force in pushing food manufacturers toward trans fats in the 1980s while fanning the flames of the tropical-oil scare, a decade later the group had reversed course entirely. CSPI had gone from calling trans fats “not a bad bargain” to headlining them as “Trans: The Phantom Fat” on the cover of the group’s widely circulated newsletter.

Line 10: The fact that the inhabitants of the Netherworld are said to be clad in feather garments is perhaps due to the belief that after death, a person's soul turned into a spirit or a ghost, whose nature was wind-like, as well as bird-like. The Mesopotamians believed in the body (*pagru*) and the soul. the latter being referred to by two words: GIDIM = *et.emmu*, meaning "spirit of the dead," "ghost;" and AN.ZAG.GAR(.RA)/LIL2 = *zaqi_qu*/*ziqi_qu*, meaning "soul," "ghost," "phantom." Living beings (humans and animals) also had ZI (*napis\/tu*) "life, vigor, breath," which was associated with the throat or neck. As breath and coming from one's throat, ZI was understood as moving air, i.e., wind-like. ZI (*napis\/tu*) was the animating life force, which could be shortened or prolonged. For instance...Inanna grants "long life (zi-su\-ud-g~a/l) under him (=the king) in the palace. At one's death, when the soul/spirit released itself from the body, both *et.emmu* and *zaqi_qu*/*ziqi_qu* descended to the Netherworld, but when the body ceased to exist, so did the *et.emmu*, leaving only the *zaqi_gu*. Those souls that were denied access to the Netherworld for whatever reason, such as improper buriel or violent or premature death, roamed as harmful ghosts. Those souls who had attained peace were occasionally allowed to visit their families, to offer help or give instructions to their still living relatives. As it was only the *et.emmu* that was able to have influence on the affairs of the living relatives, special care was taken to preserve the remains of the familial dead. According to CAD [The Assyrian Dictionary of the University of Chicago] the Sumerian equivalent of *zaqi_qu*/*ziqi_qu* was li/l, which referred to a "phantom," "ghost," "haunting spirit" as in lu/-li/l-la/ [or] *lilu^* or in ki-sikil-li/l - la/ {or] *lili_tu*. the usual translation for the word li/l, however, is "wind," and li/l is equated with the word *s\/a_ru* (wind) in lexical lists. As the lexical lists equate wind (*s\/a_ru* and ghost (*zaqi_qu*) their association with each other cannot be unfounded. Moreover, *zaqi_qu* derives from the same root as the verb *za^qu*, "to blow," and the noun *zi_qu*, "breeze." According to J. Scurlock, *zaqi_qu* is a sexless, wind-like emanation, probably a bird-like phantom, able to fly through small apertures, and as such, became associated with dreaming, as it was able to leave the sleeping body. The wind-like appearance of the soul is also attested in the Gilgamesh Epic XII 83-84, where Enkidu is able to ascend from the Netherworld through a hole in the ground: "[Gilgamesh] opened a hole in the Netherworld, the *utukku* (ghost) of Enkidu came forthfrom the underworld as a *zaqi_qu." The soul's bird-like appearance is referred to in Tablet VII 183-184, where Enkidu visits the Netherworld in a dream. Prior to his descent, he is changed into a dove, and his hands are changed into wings. - State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Texts Volume VI: The Neo-Assyrian Myth of Istar's Descent and Resurrection {In this quote I haven't been able to copy some words exactly. I've put Assyrian words( normally in italics) between *asterisks*. The names of signs in Sumerian cuneiform (wedge-shaped writing) are normally in CAPITALS with a number slightly below the line after it if there's more than one reading for that sign. Assyriologists use marks above or below individual letters to aid pronunciation- I've put whatever I can do similar after the letter. E.g. *et.emmu" normally has the dot under the "t" to indicate a sibilant or buzzy sound, so it sounds something like "etzzemmoo." *zaqi_qu* normally has the line (macron) over the "i" to indicate a long vowel, so it sounds like "zaqeeqoo." *napis\/tu* normally has a small "v" over the s to make a sh sound, ="napishtu".}

He brought the horse closer, reining in sharply so his muscled thigh was scarcely a handsbreadth from my face, knowing that the heavy log at my heels prevented any retreat. “I’ve told you once I would not force you to my will,” he reminded me, drawing one finger along my upturned jawline. “When we become lovers, it will be because you desire it as much as I.” His finger brushed my lips, the fleeting phantom of a kiss, before he raised his hand to his hat and bid me a polite good day.

At dusk in the Corcovado National Park in Costa Rica, Melissa Overton barely heard the constant sound of crickets chirping all around them. Prowling through the dense, tropical rainforest as a jaguar, she listened for the human voices that would clue her in that her prey was nearby. Waves crashed onto the sandy beaches in the distance as she made her way quietly, like a phantom predator, through the tangle of vines and broad, leafy foliage, searching for any sign of the poachers. Humans wouldn't have a clue as to what she and her kind were when they saw her - apparently nothing other than an ordinary jaguar. And she and her fellow jaguar shifters planned to keep it that way. Her partner on this mission, JAG agent Huntley Anderson, was nearby, just as wary and observant. The JAG Special Forces Branch, also known as the Golden Claws, was only open to jaguar shifters and served to protect both their shifter kind and their jaguar cousins....

Vivian once told me about a Chinese proverb that said an invisible thread connected those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. I felt the phantom tug of that thread now, stretching between us and vibrating with the promise of something only fate could deliver. I used to think we wouldn’t be together if her father hadn’t forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewel in my sky.

You are forced to pretend outward respect for people and institutions which you find ridiculous . . . You remain cowardly attached to moral or social conventions you despise, condemn and which you know lack all foundation . . . It's the permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires on the one hand and all the dead forms and vain phantoms of your civilisation on the other that makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality because every moment the free play of your strength is restrained, impeded and checked. That's the poisonous and wound of the civilised world.

Vivian once told me about a Chinese proverb that said an invisible thread connected those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. I felt the phantom tug of that thread now, stretching between us and vibrating with the promise of something only fate could deliver. I used to think we wouldn't be together if her father hadn't forced us together. I was wrong. A part of me would always find my way to her. She was my North Star, the brightest jewl in my sky.

I am Adelina Amouteru, the phantoms whispered to my father, speaking my most frightening thoughts in a chorus of voices, dripping with hatred. My hatred. I belong to no one. On this night, I swear to you that I will rise above everything you’ve ever taught me. I will become a force that this world has never known. I will come into such power that none will dare hurt me again.

The Empire Strikes Back (grade: A+) A New Hope (grade: A+) Return of the Jedi (grade: A) Rogue One (grade: A) Revenge of the Sith (grade: A-) The Force Awakens (grade: A-) The Last Jedi (grade: B+) Attack of the Clones (grade: B+) The Phantom Menace (grade: B) Solo (grade: C)

reflected the last green flash of the setting sun.

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Correo electrónico: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com En este camino que emprendimos en 2014 persiguiendo un sueño, hoy te ofrecemos el mejor servicio con nuestros más de 20 empleados en nuestras nuevas instalaciones de 550 metros cuadrados. Compartimos sus sueños reuniendo miles de productos tecnológicos a los precios más asequibles. Ayudamos a nuestros clientes a dedicar tiempo de calidad a nuestros modelos comerciales para aumentar la experiencia del cliente, nuestra gama de productos innovadores y nuestra amplia gama de productos en muchas áreas. Incrementar la experiencia del cliente en todos los rincones del mundo con productos innovadores e infraestructura de distribución en línea con las expectativas del cliente. Sabemos muy bien lo que significan para ti los productos tecnológicos con los que sueñas y necesitas. Mostramos la misma sensibilidad que nos mostramos a la hora de comprar, con cada pedido que realizas. Para brindarle un servicio perfecto, continuamos trabajando con nuestros más de 50 empleados en el proceso desde el suministro hasta el almacenamiento, desde el empaque hasta el envío. Suministramos los siguientes productos a continuación. Correo electrónico: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Compre una tarjeta gráfica para juegos en línea, Compre la tarjeta gráfica ZOTAC GeForce RTX en línea, Tarjeta gráfica Palit Geforce RTX ™ a la venta, Tarjeta gráfica para juegos a la venta en línea, Compre la tarjeta gráfica MSI RTX Gaming en línea, Compre la tarjeta gráfica MSI Nvidia GeForce RTX en línea, Compre la tarjeta gráfica Nvidia GeForce RTX en línea, Tarjeta gráfica Nvidia GeForce RTX a la venta en línea, dónde comprar la tarjeta gráfica Nvidia GeForce RTX en línea, TARJETA GRÁFICA Gigabyte GeForce a la venta, Compre TARJETA GRÁFICA Gigabyte GeForce RTX en línea, Tarjeta gráfica ASUS GeForce TUF RTX a la venta, Compre Phantom 7A-RTX MSI Gaming PC en línea, Compre Phantom 7A-RTX Gaming PC en línea, Compre Asus Gaming PC en línea, Compre Helios 7T-11 Gaming PC en línea, Compre PC para juegos en línea, PC para juegos a la venta en línea, Compre Innosilicon BTC Miner en línea, Compre Innosilicon ETH en línea, Compre BTC Miner en línea, Innosilicon ETH a la venta en línea, Compre Innosilicon A10 Pro ETH Miner en línea, Compre Innosilicon A10 Pro 6G 720MH / s ETH Miner en línea, Comprar Antminer T17- 64TH / s en línea Antminer L7 - 9500MH / s a ​​la venta en línea, dónde comprar Antminer en línea Compre Antminer en línea, Compre el kit completo HTC Vive Pro EYE en línea, Compre HTC Vive COSMOS Elite en línea, Compre HTC Vive COSMOS en línea, HTC Vive a la venta en línea, dónde comprar HTC Vive COSMOS en línea, Compre la placa base para juegos MSI en línea, Placa base para juegos MSI a la venta en línea, comprar placa base para juegos en línea, Placa base para juegos a la venta en línea, Compre la placa base Gigabyte Gaming en línea, Placa base Gigabyte Gaming a la venta en línea, Compre la placa base para juegos Asus en línea, Placa base para juegos Asus a la venta en línea, Compre Philips Gaming Monitor en línea, Monitor de juegos a la venta en línea, Compre Asus Gaming Monitor en línea, Asus Gaming Monitor a la venta en línea, Compre AOC Curved Gaming Monitor en línea, Correo electrónico: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Nuestros servicios... - No se requiere licencia - Entrega urgente previa al día siguiente o al día siguiente - embalaje perfecto seguro y protegido - Atención y soporte al cliente 100%. - Garantía de devolución del dinero - Ofrecemos servicios de entrega puerta a puerta. - Excelentes e inmejorables precios.

Имейл: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com В това пътуване, което тръгнахме през 2014 г., преследвайки една мечта, днес ви предлагаме най-доброто обслужване с нашите повече от 20 служители в нашето ново съоръжение от 550 квадратни метра. Споделяме вашите мечти, като събираме хиляди технологични продукти на най-достъпни цени. Ние подкрепяме нашите клиенти да прекарват качествено време с нашите бизнес модели, за да повишат клиентското изживяване, нашата иновативна продуктова гама и нашата широка продуктова гама в много области. Да увеличим клиентското изживяване във всяко кътче на света с иновативни продукти и дистрибуторска инфраструктура в съответствие с очакванията на клиентите. Ние знаем много добре какво означават за вас технологичните продукти, за които мечтаете и от които имате нужда. Ние показваме същата чувствителност, която проявяваме към себе си, когато пазаруваме, с всяка поръчка, която правите. За да ви предоставим перфектно обслужване, ние продължаваме да работим с нашите повече от 50 служители в процеса от доставка до съхранение, от опаковане до изпращане. Ние доставяме следните продукти по-долу. Имейл: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Купете игрална графична карта онлайн, Купете ZOTAC GeForce RTX графична карта онлайн, Palit Geforce RTX™ графична карта за продажба, Игрална графична карта за продажба онлайн, Купете онлайн графична карта за игри MSI RTX, Купете MSI Nvidia GeForce RTX графична карта онлайн, Купете онлайн графична карта Nvidia GeForce RTX, Nvidia GeForce RTX графична карта за продажба онлайн, къде да купя Nvidia GeForce RTX графична карта онлайн, Продавам ГРАФИЧНА КАРТА Gigabyte GeForce, Купете онлайн графична карта Gigabyte GeForce RTX, ASUS GeForce TUF RTX графична карта за продажба, Купете Phantom 7A-RTX MSI Gaming PC онлайн, Купете Phantom 7A-RTX Gaming PC онлайн, Купете Asus Gaming PC онлайн, Купете Helios 7T-11 Gaming PC онлайн, Купете компютър за игри онлайн, Компютър за игри за продажба онлайн, Купете Innosilicon BTC Miner онлайн, Купете Innosilicon ETH онлайн, Купете BTC Miner онлайн, Innosilicon ETH за продажба онлайн, Купете Innosilicon A10 Pro ETH Miner онлайн, Купете Innosilicon A10 Pro 6G 720MH/s ETH Miner онлайн, Купете Antminer T17- 64TH/s онлайн Antminer L7 – 9500MH/s за продажба онлайн, къде да купя Antminer онлайн Купете Antminer онлайн, Купете пълен комплект HTC Vive Pro EYE онлайн, Купете HTC Vive COSMOS Elite онлайн, Купете HTC Vive COSMOS онлайн, HTC Vive за продажба онлайн, къде да купя HTC Vive COSMOS онлайн, Купете MSI Gaming дънна платка онлайн, MSI Gaming дънна платка за продажба онлайн, купете дънна платка за игри онлайн, Дънна платка за игри за продажба онлайн, Купете дънна платка Gigabyte Gaming онлайн, Gigabyte Gaming дънна платка за продажба онлайн, Купете онлайн дънната платка Asus Gaming, Asus Gaming дънна платка за продажба онлайн, Купете Philips Gaming Monitor онлайн, Монитор за игри за продажба онлайн, Купете Asus Gaming Monitor онлайн, Asus Gaming Monitor за продажба онлайн, Купете AOC Curved Gaming Monitor онлайн, Имейл: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Нашите услуги... - Не се изисква лиценз - Експресно преди доставка през нощта или на следващия ден - перфектно опаковане безопасно и сигурно - 100% грижа и поддръжка на клиенти. - Гарантирано връщане на парите - Предлагаме услуги за доставка от врата до врата - Отлични и ненадминати цени.

E-posta: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com 2014 yılında bir hayalin peşinden koşarak çıktığımız bu yolculukta, bugün 550 metrekarelik yeni tesisimizde 20'den fazla çalışanımızla sizlere en iyi hizmeti sunuyoruz. Binlerce teknoloji ürünü en uygun fiyatlarla bir araya getirerek hayallerinizi paylaşıyoruz. Müşteri deneyimini artırmaya yönelik iş modellerimiz, yenilikçi ürün yelpazemiz ve birçok alanda geniş ürün yelpazemiz ile müşterilerimizin kaliteli zaman geçirmelerine destek oluyoruz. Müşteri beklentileri doğrultusunda yenilikçi ürünler ve dağıtım altyapısı ile dünyanın her noktasında müşteri deneyimini arttırmak. Hayal ettiğiniz ve ihtiyaç duyduğunuz teknolojik ürünlerin sizin için ne anlama geldiğini çok iyi biliyoruz. Alışveriş yaparken kendimize gösterdiğimiz hassasiyeti, verdiğiniz her siparişte de gösteriyoruz. Sizlere kusursuz hizmet verebilmek için tedarikten depolamaya, paketlemeden sevkiyata kadar olan süreçte 50'den fazla çalışanımızla çalışmaya devam ediyoruz. Aşağıdaki ürünleri tedarik ediyoruz. E-posta: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Çevrimiçi Oyun Grafik kartı satın alın, ZOTAC GeForce RTX Grafik Kartını çevrimiçi satın alın, Satılık Palit Geforce RTX™ Ekran Kartı, Online Satılık Oyun Grafik Kartı, MSI RTX Gaming Ekran Kartını çevrimiçi satın alın, MSI Nvidia GeForce RTX Grafik Kartını çevrimiçi satın alın, Nvidia GeForce RTX Grafik Kartını çevrimiçi satın alın, Çevrimiçi satılık Nvidia GeForce RTX Grafik Kartı, Nvidia GeForce RTX Grafik Kartı çevrimiçi olarak nereden satın alınır, Satılık Gigabyte GeForce GRAFİK KARTI, Gigabyte GeForce RTX GRAPHICS CARD'ı çevrimiçi satın alın, Satılık ASUS GeForce TUF RTX Ekran Kartı, Phantom 7A-RTX MSI Oyun Bilgisayarını Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Phantom 7A-RTX Oyun Bilgisayarını Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Asus Gaming PC'yi çevrimiçi satın alın, Helios 7T-11 Oyun Bilgisayarını Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Çevrimiçi Oyun Bilgisayarı satın alın, Online satılık oyun bilgisayarı, Innosilicon BTC Madencisini Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Innosilicon ETH'yi Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, BTC Madencisini Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Online satış için Innosilicon ETH, Innosilicon A10 Pro ETH Madencisini Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Innosilicon A10 Pro 6G 720MH/s ETH Miner Online Satın Alın, Antminer T17- 64TH/s Online Satın Alın Antminer L7 – 9500MH/s Online satışta, Antminer çevrimiçi olarak nereden satın alınır Antminer'ı çevrimiçi satın alın, HTC Vive Pro EYE Full Kit'i Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, HTC Vive COSMOS Elite Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, HTC Vive COSMOS'u Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, HTC Vive çevrimiçi satışta, HTC Vive COSMOS'u çevrimiçi olarak nereden satın alabilirim, MSI Gaming Anakartını Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Online satılık MSI Gaming Anakart, Online Oyun Anakartı satın al, Online Satılık Oyun Anakartı, Gigabyte Oyun Anakartını çevrimiçi satın alın, Online satışta Gigabyte Gaming Anakart, Asus Gaming Anakart Online Satın Alın, Asus Gaming Anakart online satışta, Philips Oyun Monitörünü Çevrimiçi Satın Alın, Online satılık oyun monitörü, Asus Gaming Monitor Online Satın Alın, Asus Gaming Monitor online satışta, AOC Curved Gaming Monitor'ü çevrimiçi satın alın, E-posta: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Hizmetlerimiz... - Lisans gerekmez - Bir gecede veya ertesi gün teslimattan önce ekspres - mükemmel paketleme güvenli ve emniyetli - %100 müşteri hizmetleri ve desteği. - Para iade garantisi - Kapıdan kapıya teslimat hizmetleri sunuyoruz - Mükemmel ve rakipsiz fiyatlar.

Sähköposti: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Tällä matkalla, jonka aloitimme vuonna 2014 jahtaamalla unelmaa, tarjoamme sinulle tänään parasta palvelua yli 20 työntekijämme kanssa uudessa 550 neliömetrin tilassamme. Jaamme unelmasi kokoamalla yhteen tuhansia teknologiatuotteita edullisimpaan hintaan. Tuemme asiakkaitamme viettämään laatuaikaa liiketoimintamalliemme parissa asiakaskokemuksen lisäämiseksi, innovatiivista tuotevalikoimaamme ja laajaa tuotevalikoimaamme monilla alueilla. Kasvata asiakaskokemusta kaikkialla maailmassa innovatiivisilla tuotteilla ja jakeluinfrastruktuurilla asiakkaiden odotusten mukaisesti. Tiedämme erittäin hyvin, mitä teknologiatuotteet, joista haaveilet ja joita tarvitset, merkitsevät sinulle. Osoitamme samaa herkkyyttä itsellemme ostoksia tehdessämme jokaisessa tekemässäsi tilauksessa. Jotta voimme tarjota sinulle täydellisen palvelun, jatkamme yli 50 työntekijämme kanssa työtä toimituksesta varastointiin, pakkaamisesta lähetykseen. Toimitamme alla seuraavat tuotteet. Sähköposti: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Osta pelinäytönohjain verkosta, Osta ZOTAC GeForce RTX -näytönohjain verkosta, Myydään Palit Geforce RTX™ -näytönohjain, Pelinäytönohjain verkossa myytävänä, Osta MSI RTX Gaming Graphics Card verkosta, Osta MSI Nvidia GeForce RTX -näytönohjain verkosta, Osta Nvidia GeForce RTX -näytönohjain verkosta, Nvidia GeForce RTX -näytönohjain myytävänä verkossa, mistä ostaa Nvidia GeForce RTX -näytönohjainkorttia verkosta, Myydään Gigabyte GeForce NÄYTTÖKORTTI, Osta Gigabyte GeForce RTX GRAFIIKKORTTI verkosta, Myydään ASUS GeForce TUF RTX näytönohjain, Osta Phantom 7A-RTX MSI Gaming PC verkosta, Osta Phantom 7A-RTX Gaming PC verkosta, Osta Asus Gaming PC verkosta, Osta Helios 7T-11 Gaming PC verkosta, Osta pelitietokoneita verkosta, Pelitietokone myytävänä verkossa, Osta Innosilicon BTC Miner verkosta, Osta Innosilicon ETH verkosta, Osta BTC Miner verkosta, Innosilicon ETH myytävänä verkossa, Osta Innosilicon A10 Pro ETH Miner verkosta, Osta Innosilicon A10 Pro 6G 720MH/s ETH Miner verkosta, Osta Antminer T17-64TH/s verkosta Antminer L7 – 9500MH/s myytävänä verkossa, mistä ostaa Antminer verkossa Osta Antminer verkosta, Osta HTC Vive Pro EYE Full Kit verkosta, Osta HTC Vive COSMOS Elite verkosta, Osta HTC Vive COSMOS verkosta, HTC Vive myytävänä verkossa, mistä ostaa HTC Vive COSMOS verkossa, Osta MSI Gaming -emolevy verkosta, MSI Gaming -emolevy myytävänä verkossa, osta pelien emolevy verkosta, Peliemolevy myytävänä verkossa, Osta Gigabyte Gaming -emolevy verkosta, Gigabyte Gaming -emolevy myytävänä verkossa, Osta Asus Gaming -emolevy verkosta, Asus Gaming -emolevy myytävänä verkossa, Osta Philipsin pelimonitori verkosta, Pelinäyttö myytävänä verkossa, Osta Asus Gaming Monitor verkosta, Asus Gaming Monitor myytävänä verkossa, Osta AOC Curved Gaming Monitor verkosta, Sähköposti: scaniamegaelectronics@gmail.com Palvelumme... - Ei vaadi lisenssiä - Nopea toimitus yön yli tai seuraavana päivänä - täydellinen pakkaus turvallinen ja turvallinen - 100% asiakaspalvelu ja tuki. - Rahat takaisin takuu - Tarjoamme ovelta ovelle -toimituspalveluita - Erinomaiset ja lyömättömät hinnat.

Obi-Wan, promise—” Qui-Gon fought to get the words out. Obi-Wan could feel the effort he was making not to give in to the call of the Force. “Promise me you’ll train the boy.” “Yes, Master.

The Force—dark side as well as light—was generated by living beings, and it took living flesh to manipulate it. Darth Vader would never be able to cast blue Force lightning; that required living hands, not metal ones. And with so much of his body replaced by machinery, he would never come close to the potential he’d had.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Good-bye, old friend. May the Force be with you.” “May the Force be with you,” Anakin echoed. His voice was serious—almost somber. As Obi-Wan walked toward the waiting starcruiser, uneasiness struck him. This is just an ordinary mission, he told himself. I’ll be back in a week or two. If something’s bothering Anakin, we can talk about it then. But for some reason, he felt as if he’d said good-bye to his best friend and former apprentice for the last time.

Maybe we should freak him out and start following him for a change. That would force him to either do his own thinking or give up.

The Zelda games in order are Legend of Zelda, Zelda 2: The Adventure of Link, A Link To The Past, Link’s Awakening, Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Oracle of Seasons, Oracle of Ages, Wind Waker, Four Swords, The Minish Cap, Twilight Princess. She pours another glass and then drinks it all as Michael and Nicole watch in silence. ZOE Phantom Hourglass, Spirit Tracks, Skyward Sword, Link Between Worlds, TriForce Heroes, and of course Breath of The Wild which innovated and revitalized the series. FUCK! SHIT! FUCK!

Seth stopped walking. “Phantom, you can wait for me, or you can let me tell the Sphinx how you left me behind.” The phantom halted. “Calvin, don’t you get it?” Seth said. “If what you say is true, if Kendra and the good guys would forgive me, it almost makes it worse. I know what I did, Calvin. I may have been manipulated, but I wasn’t forced. If I was a traitor, if I caused destruction by releasing evil, if I got people killed and made a sanctuary fall, I have to live with that. I’m not sure how I can.” “You’ve been in an impossible situation, Seth,” Calvin said. “You’re trying to figure out who you are. I see it. And you’ll make it. But not if you give up.” Seth heaved a sigh. “I might want to give up, but I won’t. I worry, though: what if everything I do just causes more harm?” “Everyone causes harm,” Calvin said. “Sometimes we hurt others, and sometimes we hurt ourselves. If you’ve caused a problem, you learn and do better. You become smarter for next time. And you undo what harm you can.” “What about the Everbloom?” Seth asked. “What should I do?” “We’ve come this far,” Calvin said. “Let’s have a look.” Seth folded his arms and stared at the ground. What else was he supposed to do? Sit down and mope until Ronodin came looking for him? “Go ahead, phantom,” he said. Dezia drifted forward again. “Besides, you might be right,” Calvin said. “We may burn up in hot lava before we get there.

After a time, the ads for POWER products grew less prominent in The Final Call; it seems that many who enjoyed Minister Farrakhan’s speeches continued to brush their teeth with Crest. That the POWER campaign sputtered said something about the difficulty that faced any black business—the barriers to entry, the lack of finance, the leg up that your competitors possessed after having kept you out of the game for over three hundred years. But I suspected that it also reflected the inevitable tension that arose when Minister Farrakhan’s message was reduced to the mundane realities of buying toothpaste. I tried to imagine POWER’s product manager looking over his sales projections. He might briefly wonder whether it made sense to distribute the brand in national supermarket chains where blacks preferred to shop. If he rejected that idea, he might consider whether any black-owned supermarket trying to compete against the national chains could afford to give shelf space to a product guaranteed to alienate potential white customers. Would black consumers buy toothpaste through the mail? And what of the likelihood that the cheapest supplier of whatever it was that went into making toothpaste was a white man? Questions of competition, decisions forced by a market economy and majoritarian rule; issues of power. It was this unyielding reality—that whites were not simply phantoms to be expunged from our dreams but were an active and varied fact of our everyday lives—that finally explained how nationalism could thrive as an emotion and flounder as a program.

The phantom menace, which did shake each soul, The vast clone army, which made bold attack, The Sith’s revenge upon the Jedi true, The small but bold new hope the rebels brought,

No such thing as centrifugal force. It’s an engineer’s phantom. There’s only inertia.

Obviously the students preferred to assign themselves to the appealing task and their partners to the unappealing task, but they also recognized that it would be fairer to toss a coin to decide who would undertake each task. The laws of probability state that if the students were using the coins fairly, roughly half of them should have been assigned to the positive task, and the other half should have been assigned to the negative task. Though all of the students tossed the coin, the researchers found that 85 percent of the students assigned themselves to the positive task, suggesting that the coin was merely a prop that allowed them to defend the fairness of the desired outcome. Since they weren’t supervised, you can imagine how the students interpreted a negative outcome: if they lost the first toss, perhaps they decided that the outcome should rest on a best-of-three scenario. The researchers tried the task again, this time placing the students in front of a large mirror. Forced to stare at their reflections as they tossed the coin, the students were perfectly fair, assigning their phantom partner to the positive task exactly 50 percent of the time. Incredibly, the students claimed they reached their decision fairly in both situations, but only the students who sat in front of a mirror actually obeyed the outcome of the coin toss.

inforobloxiakid

The more staggering the world cities become in elegance and proportion, in power and influence, the more cataclysmic the upheavals, the vaster the armies of footloose, destitute, homeless, penniless individuals who, unlike the miserable Armenians of Athens, are not even privileged to dig in the dung-heaps for the scraps with which to provide themselves with shelter but are forced to keep on the march like phantoms, confronted in their own land with rifles, hand grenades, barbed wire, shunned like lepers, driven out like the pest.

The pain-body, which is the dark shadow cast by the ego, is actually afraid of the light of your consciousness. It is afraid of being found out. Its survival depends on your unconscious identification with it, as well as on your unconscious fear of facing the pain that lives in you. But if you don’t face it, if you don’t bring the light of your consciousness into the pain, you will be forced to relive it again and again. The pain-body may seem to you like a dangerous monster that you cannot bear to look at, but I assure you that it is an insubstantial phantom that cannot prevail against the power of your presence.

Silence will illuminate you in God... and deliver you from phantoms of ignorance. Silence will unite you to God.... In the beginning we have to force ourselves to be silent. But then from our very silence is born something that draws us into deeper silence. May God give you an experience of this 'something' that is born of silence

You don’t want me,” I surmise breathlessly. “So, what do you want?” He shakes his head in disagreement, and when his lips part, I cease to breathe. “I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe without you near,” he whispers softly, finally—finally—gracing me with his voice. “W-why?” I force out finally, the word coming out as a pathetic squeak “Because you possess my lungs, as you do my heart, Genevieve. And I intend to take yours for myself,” he answers, his voice deepening impossibly further. His other hand closes around mine, where I hold the blade to his throat. He doesn’t remove it from his skin but rather presses it in deeper. I gasp, resisting, but he doesn’t allow it. “I will bleed for you, mia rosa, but I must require you to bleed for me, too,

I would dare to do so with your husband right next to us, forced to watch while I lick you and fuck you. And neither of you could do a damn thing about it.