R Aa Quotes

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We create our own reality. The blessing (or problem) with this is that when one creates one's own reality, one must live it! Are you living a blessing or is it a curse?
Gary R. Ryan
What Cantor's Diagonal Proof does is generate just such a number, which let's call R. The proof is both ingenious and beautiful-a total confirmation of art's compresence in pure math. First, have another look at the above table. We can let the integral value of R be whatever X we want; it doesn't matter. But now look at the table's very first row. We're going to make sure R's first post-decimal digit, a, is a different number from the table's a1. It's easy to do this even though we don't know what particular number a1 is: let's specify that a=(a1-1) unless a1 happens to be 0, in which case a=9. Now look at the table's second row, because we're going to do the same thing for R's second digit b: b=(b2-1), or b=9 if b2=0. This is how it works. We use the same procedure for R's third digit c and the table's c3, for d and d4, for e and e5, and so on, ad inf. Even though we can't really construct the whole R (just as we can't really finish the whole infinite table), we can still see that this real number R=X.abcdefhi... is going to be demonstrably different from every real number in the table. It will differ from the table's 1st Real in its first post-decimal digit, from the 2nd Real in its second digit, from the 3rd Real in its third digit,...and will, given the Diagonal Method here, differ from the table's Nth Real in its nth digit. Ergo R is not-cannot be-included in the above infinite table; ergo the infinite table is not exhaustive of all the real numbers; ergo (by the rules of reductio) the initial assumption is contradicted and the set of all real numbers is not denumerable, i.e. it's not 1-1 C-able with the set of integers. And since the set of all rational numbers is 1-1C-able with the integers, the set of all reals' cardinality has got to be greater than the set of all rationals' cardinality. Q.E.D.*
David Foster Wallace (Everything and More: A Compact History of Infinity)
The Months of the Year Presenting Themselves to al-Ghawth al-A’zam Hazrat Sheikh Abul Qaasim (r.a) states that once Sheikh Abu Bakr, Sheikh Abul Khair, Sheikh Ibn Mahfooz, Sheikh Abu Hafs Umar, Sheikh Abul Aas Ahmad Imkaani, Sheikh Abdul Wahab (r.a) and himself (r.a) were all in the presence of the great al-Ghawth al-A’zam (r.a) It was a Friday, the 30th of Jamadi-ul-Aakhir 560 AH. During this time, Sheikh Qaasim (r.a) states that a young handsome youth came into the blessed court of the great Saint. He sat with great respect, and then said: “O Friend of Allah! May there be Salaams upon you. I am the month of Rajab, and I have come to give you glad tiding that this is a good month for the people. They should thus do many good deeds in this month.” Sheikh Qaasim (r.a) states that on another occasion, a youth again came to the Darbaar of al-Ghawth al-A’zam (r.a) and with great respect said, “I am the month of Shabaan. I have not brought any glad tidings, but have come to inform you that in this month the people of Arabia will be in difficulty. There will be wars fought in Khorasan and there will be sickness in Iraq through which many people will die.” Sheikh Qaasim (r.a) states that after a few days, news reached Baghdad of these happenings in Arabia and Khorasan and he states that during that time a disease spread in Iraq killing scores of people.
Hazrat Shaykh Sayyid Abdul Kadir Jilani
The LimitReader function in the io package accepts an io.Reader r and a number of bytes n, and returns another Reader that reads from r but reports an end-of-file condition after n bytes. Implement it.
Alan A.A. Donovan (The Go Programming Language)
DON’T EAT THE SEEDS Allison had told Brady not to eat the seeds of the orange... but did he listen to her? No. "I'm telling you, Brady." She told him as he crunched and swallowed the seeds down with the rest of the juicy inside of the orange fruits, "You keep eating the seeds, and one day an orange tree will grow out of you." "As if!" Brady said back with a harsh laugh. Allison looked at him warily... she did not want to see that boy turn into a tree. The two of them were only ten, Allison new to the street. The other kids heeded her warning, Brady was just being stupid. "Where do you think that orange you're eating came from, Brady?" Allison told him as he gobbled down another slice. "From a foolish kid just like you who is now a tree." "No!" Brady yelled back defiantly and Judy only rolled her eyes, giving up. It wasn't until that night that Brady heard a rumble in his stomach. He ran to the bathroom to puke but all that shot out of his mouth was leaves. "HUH?!" He coughed, baffled. He was turning into a tree! He needed Allison's help. He ran out of his house to Allison's down the street... feeling branches shooting from his fingers and causing him agonising grief. As he ran towards Allison's house, he saw her just swinging on a tire on a tree in the front. Smiling to herself in the night. "Allison!" He beckoned. She blinked up, grinning at him as he fell before her and begged. "You were right! You were r-right! Help me! I don't want to be a tree!" "It's your own fault..." Allison just told him straight out. He looked at her astonished at that reply. She got off the wheel and waved for him to follow as she continued. "But I know how to fix it. Follow me." He ran after her, coughing out leaves the whole time till he saw the orange tree in the back where he had snuck an orange one time. He saw a dug up pit and he found it so hard as he felt roots coming out of his toes. "Over here." Allison said, waving him to the pit and he ran over. Suddenly she pushed him into the hole and he looked at her shocked, zap running down his cheeks in replacement of tears. "Why'd you do that?!" "Bad little children deserve a grave like yours." He looked at her in horror but it was too late. The roots from his toes suddenly clawed out of his shoes and dug into the ground. He felt his body tear apart as the tree shot out into the air and spread its leaves and fruit. Allison grinned, picking up a stick from the ground. She waved it around her and in a second turned back into her adult form. A witch. The next day her in her ten year old disguise, called the children of the street over to taste the new fruit of the tree she had in her backyard. As the kids broke open the oranges, they saw it was red inside and urked at the sight. "It's blood!" they screamed and she reassured them. "No. Just blood oranges. A kind of fruit. Try it and see." They tasted it warily, but loved the taste and grinned with red juice all over their teeth. "Mmm! Delicious!" Blood oranges. Now you know the truth.
A.A. Wray (20 Dark, Scary and Sad Short Stories)
Lawrence hid himself in the Air Force under the name of Shaw to avoid being introduced for the rest of his life as ‘Lawrence of Arabia’. I do not want C. R. Milne ever to wish that his names were Charles Robert. The comparison between Lawrence of Arabia and Christopher Robin, which at first seems rather ridiculous, has real reverberations. Robert Graves once wrote of Lawrence, ‘He both despised and loved the legend that surrounded him’, and this was also true of Christopher Milne at different stages of his life. The great difference, of course, was that Lawrence’s legend was based on his own achievements, Christopher Robin’s on nothing he had done himself –and his mixed feelings would eventually transfer from the legend to his father, the author of it.
Ann Thwaite (Goodbye Christopher Robin: A.A. Milne and the Making of Winnie-the-Pooh)
Imidlertid sad Fru Fanny og kjedede sig. Lille Christian Fredrik var sendt ud med Barnepigen; Gaden var afskyelig, støvet, varm og fuld af simple Folk, som gjorde Lørdagsindkjøb; — Fruen gad ikke se ud. Lænet helt tilbage i sin blødeste Stol sad hun og gabede foran Speilet: skulde hun tage Madeleine med til Byen imorgen — der var gaaet nogle Dage siden hendes sidste Besøg — og heller resikere at blive staaende som Skjæmbræt; — eller skulde hun begynde for egen Regning? — ja hvorfor ikke! — men han kom jo aldrig indom, naar Madeleine ikke var i Byen — aa! man kunde gabe sine Kjæveben af Led! Da han nu pludseligt traadte ind i Stuen, gik der et Stød gjennem hende; men hun blev liggende i Stolen og rakte ham sin venstre Haand, som var nærmest: „Velkommen — Hr. Kandidat! — jeg sad just og tænkte paa Dem i min Ensomhed.“ „Det var smukt af Dem — Frue!“ svarede han og satte sig foran hende. „Ja — hvad kan man ikke falde paa for dumme Ting, naar man sidder saaledes alene —“ „Jeg var ellers ikke det dummeste, De kunde tænke paa,“ svarede Delphin muntert; men det er igrunden sandt, De sidder vist meget alene i den sidste Tid. „Aa ja — hvis jeg nu havde mine Grunde“ „Saa vilde jeg tillade mig at spørge efter disse Grunde.“ „Det var kanske det bedste, om jeg fortalte Dem mine Grunde —“ sagde Fruen og betragtede, opmærksomt Spidsen af sin Fod, som stak frem, idet hun laa tilbagelænet. Hun havde smaa, spidse Parisersko med udskaarne Striber over Vristen, hvor man saa en glat, mørkeblaa Silkestrømpe. „Jeg forsikrer Dem Frue! — at jeg vilde være ligesaa taknemmelig som discret.“ „Madeleine er jo saa ung,“ sagde Fruen, somom hun fortsatte sin egen Tankegang, — „jeg er jo paa en vis Maade forpligtet til at passe lidt paa hende — og —“ „Mon det skulde være saa nødvendigt?“ — spurgte han. „Aa ja! — naar en ung Pige saa naiv som Madeleine kommer i Berørelse med Herrer, der ere, — nuvel! der ere saa behændige som De — Hr. Kandidat Delphin! — saa —“ hun saa paa ham, idet hun stansede i Sætningen. „De gjør mig altfor megen Ære! —“ lo han, „desuden — hvorledes skulde det kunne falde mig ind at benytte mig af —“ „Pyt!“ afbrød hun og trak sine Øienbryn op, „den Snak kjender vi. De er som alle de andre; De tager ikke i Betænkning at benytte Dem af enhver — selv den allermindste Chance — ikke sandt? — vær nu oprigtig!“ „Nuvel —“ svarede han og stod op, „naar De gaar mig saadan paa Livet, saa vil jeg jo tilstaa, at naar jeg ser et Jordbær, som ingen passer paa, saa ta’r jeg det ialmindelighed.“ „Ja — det er just den Graadighed hos Mandfolkene, jeg finder ligesaa farlig som forunderlig.“ „Ih — men Frue! Jordbær ere dog saa fortryllende!“ „Ja — naar de ere modne —“ svarede Fru Fanny. De sidste Ord kom saa blødt som Kattefødder. Georg Delphin var gaaet et Par Skridt henover Gulvet. Han vendte sig hurtigt og fik netop se det sidste Glimt af et Blik, som maatte have hvilet paa ham, mens hun talte. Det var ikke ofte, han mistede sin Holdning i Konversationer som denne; men den Opdagelse, han gjorde eller troede at gjøre, Uvisheden, den forfængelige Glæde — forvirrede ham, saa han stammede, blev rød og stod og stirrede paa hende. Udstrakt som hun laa i den lave Stol løb de bugtede Linier fra det lille Hoved nedover de fyldige Lemmer — helt ud til Spidsen af hendes Parisersko. Hendes Skjønhed var saa fuldt færdig, saa sikker og ubekymret i hvert Led og hver Bøining. Hun forstod, at nu var det nok og reiste sig uden at lægge Mærke til hans Forvirring. „Ved De hvad!“ sagde hun pludseligt og lo høit, „det er dog latterligt, at jeg vil holde Prækener for Dem. Hver faar passe sig selv, og jeg maa gaa og passe en Kjole — jeg haaber, De undskylder. Godaften — Hr. Kandidat! — maatte Deres Jordbær bekomme Dem vel!
Alexander L. Kielland