R And J Key Quotes

A box without hinges, key, or lid, Yet golden treasure inside is hid.

Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume—which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile.

Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the key-hole.

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God's sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He'd read that book, seen the movie, bought the soundtrack, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider's guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key. But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart.

Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death. . . . . . (quoting an obituary) 'There is no such thing as a natural death. Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation.' Well, you may agree with the words or not, but those are the key spring of The Lord Of The Rings

Faerie is a perilous land, and in it are pitfalls for the unwary and dungeons for the overbold...The realm of fairy-story is wide and deep and high and filled with many things: all manner of beasts and birds are found there; shoreless seas and stars uncounted; beauty that is an enchantment, and an ever-present peril; both joy and sorrow as sharp as swords. In that realm a man may, perhaps, count himself fortunate to have wandered, but its very richness and strangeness tie the tongue of a traveller who would report them. And while he is there it is dangerous for him to ask too many questions, lest the gates should be shut and the keys be lost.

It looked like Tohr and the kid had a lot in common: Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume—which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile.

In life you find pleasure. In life you find pain. Pain and pleasure is an example of the duality in life. Enjoy them both, they are part of the ride. The key is to not turn the pain into something else - regret.

With a deliberate shrug, he stepped free of the hold on his shoulder. “Tell me something, boys,” he drawled. “Do you wear that leather to turn each other on? I mean, is it a dick thing with you all?” Butch got slammed so hard against the door that his back teeth rattled. The model shoved his perfect face into Butch’s. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.” “Why bother, when you’re keeping an eye on it for me? You gonna kiss me now?” A growl like none Butch had ever heard came out of the guy. “Okay, okay.” The one who seemed the most normal came forward. “Back off, Rhage. Hey, come on. Let’s relax.” It took a minute before the model let go. “That’s right. We’re cool,” Mr. Normal muttered, clapping his buddy on the back before looking at Butch. “Do yourself a favor and shut the hell up.” Butch shrugged. “Blondie’s dying to get his hands on me. I can’t help it.” The guy launched back at Butch, and Mr. Normal rolled his eyes, letting his friend go this time. The fist that came sailing at jaw level snapped Butch’s head to one side. As the pain hit, Butch let his own rage fly. The fear for Beth, the pent-up hatred of these lowlifes, the frustration about his job, all of it came out of him. He tackled the bigger man, taking him down onto the floor. The guy was momentarily surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Butch’s speed or strength, and Butch took advantage of the hesitation. He clocked Blondie in the mouth as payback and then grabbed the guy’s throat. One second later, Butch was flat on his back with the man sitting on his chest like a parked car. The guy took Butch’s face into his hand and squeezed, crunching the features together. It was nearly impossible to breathe, and Butch panted shallowly. “Maybe I’ll find your wife,” the guy said, “and do her a couple of times. How’s that sound?" “Don’t have one.” “Then I’m coming after your girlfriend.” Butch dragged in some air. “Got no woman.” “So if the chicks won’t do you, what makes you think I’d want to?” “Was hoping to piss you off.” “Now why’d you want to do that?” Blondie asked. “If I attacked first”—Butch hauled more breath into his lungs—“your boys wouldn’t have let us fight. Would’ve killed me first. Before I had a chance at you.” Blondie loosened his grip a little and laughed as he stripped Butch of his wallet, keys, and cell phone. “You know, I kind of like this big dummy,” the guy drawled. Someone cleared a throat. Rather officiously. Blondie leaped to his feet, and Butch rolled over, gasping. When he looked up, he was convinced he was hallucinating. Standing in the hall was a little old man dressed in livery. Holding a silver tray. “Pardon me, gentlemen. Dinner will be served in about fifteen minutes.” “Hey, are those the spinach crepes I like so much?” Blondie said, going for the tray. “Yes, Sire.” “Hot damn.” The other men clustered around the butler, taking what he offered. Along with cocktail napkins. Like they didn’t want to drop anything on the floor. What the hell was this? “Might I ask a favor?” the butler said. Mr. Normal nodded with vigor. “Bring out another tray of these and we’ll kill anything you want for you.” Yeah, guess the guy wasn’t really normal. Just relatively so. The butler smiled as if touched. “If you’re going to bloody the human, would you be good enough to do it in the backyard?” “No problem.” Mr. Normal popped another crepe in his mouth. “Damn, Rhage, you’re right. These are awesome.

The Land of Fairy Story is wide and deep and high … its seas are shoreless and its stars uncounted, its beauty an enchantment and its peril ever-present; both joy and sorrow are poignant as a sword. In that land a man may (perhaps) count himself fortunate to have wandered, but its very mystery and wealth make dumb the traveller who would report. And while he is there it is dangerous for him to ask too many questions, lest the gates be shut and the keys be lost. The fairy gold (too often) turns to withered leaves when it is brought away. All that I can ask its that you, knowing all these things, will receive my withered leaves, as a token at least that my hand once held a little of the gold.

Rin had come to see that every single person was their own song. Some songs were quiet, some songs were reminiscent of others. But some other songs reminded her of the dramatic sound found in her childhood synagogue. Some people pressed into key changes, deep soulful strings clipped with a piano solo. Jo Reed held a symphony inside her.

It's not easy being a missionary, even with the key to the cosmos in your hand.

Thoughts of fear are not a product of external factors but an internal process.

The thought of suffering is the source of pain, imagine how your life would be without this one thought.

A journey away from yourself does not exist. Embrace your strength and vulnerabilities, this could be the greatest lesson you can ever learn.

Fearful thoughts consume the mind the same way a fire consumes a forest.

pushing his keys into Gandalf’s hands, and running as fast as his furry feet could carry him down the lane, past the great Mill, across The Water, and then on for a mile or more.

I forgot to mention that with the map went a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!

Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume—which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile. Christ,

You say you know these streets pretty well? The city knows you better than any living person because it has seen you when you are alone. It saw you steeling yourself for the job interview, slowly walking home after the late date, tripping over nonexistent impediments on the sidewalk. It saw you wince when the single frigid drop fell from the air-conditioner 12 stories up and zapped you. It saw the bewilderment on your face as you stepped out of the stolen matinee, incredulous that there was still daylight after such a long movie. It saw you half-running up the street after you got the keys to your first apartment. It saw all that. Remembers too. Consider what all your old apartments would say if they got together to swap stories. They could piece together the starts and finishes of your relationships, complain about your wardrobe and musical tastes, gossip about who you are after midnight. 7J says, ''So that's what happened to Lucy; I knew it would never work out.'' You picked up yoga, you put down yoga, you tried various cures. You tried on selves and got rid of them, and this makes your old rooms wistful: why must things change? 3R says: ''Saxophone, you say? I knew him when he played guitar.'' Cherish your old apartments and pause for a moment when you pass them. Pay tribute, for they are the caretakers of your reinventions.

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God’s sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He’d read that book, seen the movie, bought the sound track, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider’s guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key.

Thus, the key to enlightenment lies in a secret that very few people have ever known, but which J knew well. The way you will experience and feel about yourself is not determined by how other people look at and think about you. The way that you will experience and feel about yourself is actually determined by how you look at and think about them. Ultimately, this determines your identity. You will identify yourself either as a body or as perfect spirit, as either divided or whole, depending on how you see others. And once you understand that, I would think you’d want to get pretty damn careful how you think about other people!

But when Aragorn arose all that beheld him gazed in silence, for it seemed to them that he was revealed to them now for the first time. Tall as the sea-kings of old, he stood above all that were near; ancient of days he seemed and yet in the flower of manhood; and wisdom sat upon his brow, and strength and healing were in his hands, and a light was about him. And then Faramir cried: 'Behold the King!' And in that moment all the trumpets were blown, and the King Elessar went forth and came to the barrier, and Húrin of the Keys thrust it back; and amid the music of harp and of viol and of flute and the singing of clear voices the King passed through the flower-laden streets, and came to the Citadel, and entered in; and the banner of the Tree and the Stars was unfurled upon the topmost tower, and the reign of King Elessar began, of which many songs have told. In his time the City was made more fair than it had ever been, even in the days of its first glory; and it was filled with trees and with fountains, and its gates were wrought of mithril and steel, and its streets were paved with white marble; and the Folk of the Mountain laboured in it, and the Folk of the Wood rejoiced to come there; and all was healed and made good, and the houses were filled with men and women and the laughter of children, and no window was blind nor any courtyard empty; and after the ending of the Third Age of the world into the new age it preserved the memory and the glory of the years that were gone.

The art world assumed an air of polite remove from the activities of the K Foundation from then on in, and it soon became apparent that no suitable gallery was going to host their inaugural exhibition. This was called Money: A Major Body of Cash, and largely consisted of what money the pair still had from The KLF years nailed to things. The key piece was called Nailed To The Wall, and consisted of a million pounds in fifty pound notes nailed to a board. The reserve price for this was going to be half a million pounds. The purchaser could therefore double their money by simply taking it apart. If they hung it on the wall, however, the value of the notes would decrease over time, but the value of the art might well increase. The exhibition, then, raised many thorny issues about the relationship between art and money. Or at least it would have done, if a gallery had been found to put it on.

Behind these practical studies lay powerful, intertwined, and potentially contradictory beliefs: that language provides a key to the rational, scientific understanding of the world and that language is more than human speech, that it claims a divine origin and is the means by which God created the cosmos and Adam named the beasts. As we will see, both ideas strongly influenced the Inklings, whose leading members wrote many words about the meaning of words. For Owen Barfield, language is the fossil record of the history and evolution of human consciousness; for C. S. Lewis, it is a mundane tool that "exists to communicate whatever it can communicate" but also, as in That Hideous Strength, an essential part of our metaphysical makeup for good or ill; for Charles Williams, language is power, a field of force for the magician, a vehicle of prayer for the believing Christian; for Tolkien, language is a fallen human instrument and a precious divine gift ("O felix peccatum Babel!" he exclaimed in his essay "English and Welsh"), a supreme art, and, as "Word", a name for God.

reached down through the closed wooden lid and struck a key. A minor key, I think.

For full details on the search of scientific literature that turned up one hundred thousand articles with evolution as a key work, see J. R. Staver, “Evolution and Intelligent Design,” Science Teacher 70, no. 8 (2003): 32–35.

So I became certain that I was on the brink of a crumbling bank and already on the verge of falling into the Fire, unless I set about mending my ways… Mundane desires began tugging me with their chains to remain as I was, while the herald of faith was crying out: „Away! Up and away! Only a little is left of your life, and a long journey lies before you! All the theory and practice in which you are engrossed is eyeservice and fakery! If you do not prepare now for the Afterlife, when will you do so? And if you do not sever these attachments now, then when will you sever them? (al-Ghazali)

Gratitude establish a sincere connection between people.

Forgiveness brings oneness to light.

Conflicting thoughts create doubt and chaos, a peaceful mind is filled with certainty.

Mistakes from the past cannot cast any shadows on a bright future.

The past can only be present when we hold on to regret.

It‘s interesting, as I let go of illusions I find what I was looking for in them.

Our ego constantly worries over useless things and events that most likely will never happen.

Conflict is an open wound that it's exposed and vulnerable to infection, while forgiveness is the treatment to heal it.

Step out of yourself, you might be surprised who you will find.

Intuition is the name we have given to the guidance and messages we receive from our Inner-Guide.

Too much critical thinking stunts your spiritual growth and intuition development.

Self-transformation cannot be accomplished without listening and following our intuition.

Frustration is the nagging feeling that tells us we are not listening or following our intuition.

If I perceive myself as limited, I do not know the Truth nor my Self.

Accepting Love today makes any kind of suffering nothing but an illusion.

Stop regretting what you did not accomplish yesterday, this instant it’s all it matters.

A Mind that is free of guilt and fear is full of peace and happiness.

The present moment doesn’t see mistakes nor hears criticism.

The reason for breaking out an old Soviet military textbook is to show that Russia is still following Soviet ideas. At the same time, America does not seriously embark upon war preparations of its own. The American side does not place its key military industries under mountains, and does not teach its population the principles of nuclear civil defense (as the Russians do). Even more critical, the American people have never received any schooling on the Russian threat. With rare exception, American schools do not teach students about the enemies of America. This was not even done at the height of the Cold War. In fact, Marxists were busy infiltrating U.S. schools and universities during the 1970s and 1980s. American students were more likely to receive indoctrination closer to that given in communist countries than to receive any proper orientation about a communist threat to the United States. And so, there was never any similarity between Russian war preparations and American war preparations. This is a fact that ought to make a deep impression, as it dispels the usual propaganda about the all-powerful U.S. military-industrial-complex.

Realize that we spend a whole lot more energy to make ourselves miserable than to remain on our natural state of inner peace.

We tend to personalize our emotions. We project our feelings (anger, fear, guilt, etc.). However, these feelings are emotional states that are dormant within each of us, which get triggered by interacting with people, places, and situations.

Thoughts and emotions are the glue that holds together this puzzle we call life.

Trust your Inner-Creator and let go of your inner-critic.

Inner-Peace is the force that lets you know that you are safe no matter where you go.

Forgiveness is the path to Healing; Healing is the path to Self-acceptance.

Love paints a picture of a world where sadness is over, fear disappears, and hatred makes no sense.

Clarity of mind is peace, nowhere else can peace be sought and found.

No one should be outside our circle of empathy and forgiveness.

Honesty is the key to Trust; Trust is the door to healthy relationships.

Meditation peels away at the ego revealing our true Self.

Kindness is the bond that holds humanity together.

When the mind is still it allows you to step back and let ego thoughts pass-through.

Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks,” read Elrond, “and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the key-hole.

Just one more way they were compatible. Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God’s sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He’d read that book, seen the movie, bought the sound track, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider’s guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key. But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart. “Are

If you interpret events in Russia as a crime wave, which is the way the West looks at the rise of Putin, where organized crime supposedly came to power through the KGB, you have a problem. This explanation is not workable if you look at the larger picture and consider all the facts, because this version of history cannot account for the ongoing attempt to socialize key countries, and to spread certain political doctrines, and to build up military forces. A mafia is mainly interested in money. They are not interested in global transformation. Gangsters are not political philosophers engaged in a planetary revolution. They do not build up weapons and coordinate with revolutionary parties. Such a course is destructive of those relationships that most promise a profitable return, and long-term benefits for the business. Something less sane, less rational than mere criminal enterprise is indicated. The buildup of new classes of weapons is hardly required to maintain a global criminal enterprise. Why would mere criminals work toward nuclear superiority? It is very expensive to do this, and involves serious risks.

Closing his eyes, he sent up a prayer to anyone who was listening, asking please, for God’s sake, stop sending him signals that they were right for each other. He’d read that book, seen the movie, bought the sound track, the DVD, the T-shirt, the mug, the bobble-head, and the insider’s guide. He knew every reason they could have been lock and key. But just as he was aware of all that aligned them, he was even clearer on how they were damned to be ever apart.

Damn it,” he muttered as he squeezed his eyes shut. Sure, that shit about his mom was fine. But Lassiter, it appeared, was the race’s new boss. Great. Nothing like putting a five-year-old behind the wheel of a car and giving the little shit the car keys. Big ol’ angel wingspans aside, the ride, which had already not been all that smooth, was about to get bumpier than a motherfucker.

To meditate—to do it right—I had to have my mind blank. As blank as I could make it. Breathing was the key. No, the act of focusing on my breathing was the key. Focusing on something simple. Mindless. It settles the mind. Relaxes it. Bypasses the ego. The ego, the fore-mind, that thing with which we use to calculate and imagine and worry and ponder, didn’t like to be bypassed. The ego liked to remain in control.