Ra Pain Quotes

There is a wide world out there, full of pain, but filled with joy as well. The former keeps you on the path of growth and the latter makes the journey tolerable.

Tôi thích những mối tình câm, tình thầm. Tôi tưởng tượng đó là những mối tình da diết, sâu sắc. Mãi mãi chẳng dám nói thật lòng, cho đến cuối đời, tình ấy vẫn bàng bạc, rập rờn, và mỗi khi có dịp (như đi qua chỗ ngồi cũ, con đường cũ, gương mặt cũ…), ta bỗng thấy nhói ran. Chắc là khó chịu lắm, khi yêu mà giả bộ không yêu, khi buồn cố diễn mặt vui, khi đau tình phải tỏ ra vô tình…

Loss of empathy might well be the most enduring and deep-cutting scar of all, the silent blade of an unseen enemy, tearing at our hearts and stealing more than our strength. Stealing our will, for what are we without empathy? What manner of joy might we find in our live if we cannot understand the joys and pains of those around us, if we cannot share in a greater community.

I wish to you sunshine, my dear one, my dear one. And treetops for you to soar past. I wish to you innocence, my child, my child. I pray you don't grow up too fast. Never know pain, my dear one, my dear one. Nor hunger nor fear nor sorrow. Never know war, my child, my child. Remember your hope for tomorrow.

But love, honest love, requires empathy. It is a sharing—of joy, of pain, of laughter, and of tears. Honest love makes one’s soul a reflection of the partner’s moods. And as a room seems larger when it is lined with mirrors, so do the joys become amplified. And as the individual items within the mirrored room seem less acute, so does pain diminish and fade, stretched thin by the sharing. That is the beauty of love, whether in passion or friendship. A sharing that multiplies the joys and thins the pains.

There is no pain greater than this; not the cut of a jagged-edged dagger nor the fire of a dragon's breath. Nothing burns in your heart like the emptiness of losing something, someone, before you truly have learned of its value

There is a wide world out there, my friend, full of pain, but filled with joy as well. The former keeps you on the path of growth, and the latter makes the journey tolerable.

You stop noticing pain, is the thing. You notice it when it’s really bad, or when it’s different, but… on the rare occasion someone asks me what it’s like to live with RA, I don’t ever know what to say. They ask me if its painful, and I say yes because I know intellectually it must be, because the idea of doing some of the things that other people do without thinking fills me with dread and panic, but I always think about it mechanically. I can’t do x. I don’t want to do y. I don’t continue the thought into I can’t do that because it would hurt. I don’t want to do that because then I would be in pain. You can’t live like that. There’s only so much you can carry quietly by yourself, so you turn an illness into a list of rules instead of a list of symptoms, and you take pills that don’t help, and you do stretches, and you think instead of feeling. You think.

When I die … may there be friends who will grieve for me, who will carry our shared joys and pains, who will carry my memory.

Loss of empathy might well be the most enduring and deep cutting scar of all, the silent blade of an unseen enemy, cutting at our hearts and stealing more than our strength; stealing our will. For what are we without empathy? What manner of joy might we find in our lives if we cannot understand the joys and pains of those around us?

here have been many times in my life when I have felt helpless. It is perhaps the most acute pain a person can know, founded in frustration and ventless rage.

Nothing pains a liar more than when an opponent turns one of his lies into truth.

There have been many times in my life when I have felt helpless. It is perhaps the most acute pain a person can know, founded in frustration and ventless rage. The nick of sword upon a battling soldier’s arm cannot compare to the anguish a prisoner feels at the crack of a whip. Even if the whip does not strike the helpless prisoner’s body, it surely cuts deeply at his soul. We all are prisoners at one time or another in our lives, prisoners to ourselves or to the expectations of those around us. It is a burden that all people endure, that all people despise, and that few people ever learn to escape.

It is a defeat of the spirit to learn one's arrogance causes such loss and pain. Pride invites you to soar to heights and the footing, tentative. farther, then, is the fall.

No, I say. Because I cannot. I cannot dismiss that which is in my heart and conscience. I am a creature of intelligence and reason. I know what actions please me and put me at ease, and which pain me.

Before his uncle, Garrow, was slain by the Ra’zac months earlier, the brutality that Eragon had witnessed between the humans, dwarves, and Urgals would have destroyed him. Now it numbed him. He had realized, with Saphira’s help, that the only way to stay rational amid such pain was to do things. Beyond that, he no longer believed that life possessed inherent meaning—not after seeing men torn apart by the Kull, a race of giant Urgals, and the ground a bed of thrashing limbs and the dirt so wet with blood it soaked through the soles of his boots. If any honor existed in war, he concluded, it was in fighting to protect others from harm.

Running is a deeply unpleasant sport at the best of times, but it is particularly awful when you’re bad at it. There is so much unpleasantness at once. First, there is the shortness of breath, then the ache in the legs, then the sharp pain of the stitch, the soreness of the feet, the discomfort of the joints, and the lactic acid burn in the thighs. Eventually, some of this subsides with the increase of dizziness, delirium and sweating. Then there are the added difficulties of cross-country running – scraping through prickly bushes, standing on sharp rocks, getting jabbed by sticks and wading through icy cold streams. Altogether, it was Friday’s idea of hell.

Entreri was possessed of many of these same qualities, though they were buried beneath great pain and unrelenting anger, mostly self-loathing. He had honor, but only in that it allowed him to hurt others. Jarlaxle coaxed him from that state.

the silent blade of an unseen enemy, tearing at our hearts and stealing more than our strength. Stealing our will, for what are we without empathy? What manner of joy might we find in our lives if we cannot understand the joys and pains of those around us, if we cannot share in a greater community?

We are the center. In each of our minds - some may call it arrogance, or selfishness - we are the center, and all the world moves about us, and for us, and because of us. This is the paradox of community, the one and the whole, the desires of the one often in direct conflict with the needs of the whole. Who among us has not wondered if all the world is no more than a personal dream? I do not believe that such thoughts are arrogant or selfish. It is simply a matter of perception; we can empathize with someone else, but we cannot truly see the world as another person sees it, or judge events as they affect the mind and the heart of another, even a friend. But we must try. For the sake of all the world, we must try. This is the test of altruism, the most basic and undeniable ingredient for society. Therein lies the paradox, for ultimately, logically, we each must care more about ourselves than about others, and yet, if, as rational beings we follow that logical course, we place our needs and desires above the needs of our society, and then there is no community. I come from Menzoberranzan, city of drow, city of self. I have seen that way of selfishness. I have seen it fail miserably. When self-indulgence rules, then all the community loses, and in the end, those striving for personal gains are left with nothing of any real value. Because everything of value that we will know in this life comes from our relationships with those around us. Because there is nothing material that measures against the intangibles of love and friendship. Thus, we must overcome that selfishness and we must try, we must care. I saw this truth plainly following the attack on Captain Deudermont in Watership. My first inclination was to believe that my past had precipitated the trouble, that my life course had again brought pain to a friend. I could not bear this thought. I felt old and I felt tired. Subsequently learning that the trouble was possibly brought on by Deudermont's old enemies, not my own, gave me more heart for the fight. Why is that? The danger to me was no less, nor was the danger to Deudermont, or to Catti-brie or any of the others about us. Yet my emotions were real, very real, and I recognized and understood them, if not their source. Now, in reflection, I recognize that source, and take pride in it. I have seen the failure of self-indulgence; I have run from such a world. I would rather die because of Deudermont's past than have him die because of my own. I would suffer the physical pains, even the end of my life. Better that than watch one I love suffer and die because of me. I would rather have my physical heart torn from my chest, than have my heart of hearts, the essence of love, the empathy and the need to belong to something bigger than my corporeal form, destroyed. They are a curious thing, these emotions. How they fly in the face of logic, how they overrule the most basic instincts. Because, in the measure of time, in the measure of humanity, we sense those self-indulgent instincts to be a weakness, we sense that the needs of the community must outweigh the desires of the one. Only when we admit to our failures and recognize our weaknesses can we rise above them. Together.

Appearing nude on film was not easy when I was twenty-six in Body Heat; it was even harder when I was forty-six in The Graduate, on the stage, which is more up close and personal than film. After my middle-age nude scene, though, I unexpectedly got letters from women saying, "I have not undressed in front of my husband in ten years and I'm going to tonight." Or, "I have not looked in the mirror at my body and you gave me permission." These affirmations from other women were especially touching to me because when I began The Graduate I'd just come through a period when I felt a great loss of confidence, when my rheumatoid arthritis hit me hard and I literally couldn't walk or do any of the things that I was so used to doing. It used to be that if I said to my body, "Leap across the room now," it would leap instantly. I don't know how I did it, but I did it. I hadn't realized how much my confidence was based on my physicality. On my ability to make my body do whatever I wanted it to do. I was so consumed, not just by thinking about what I could and couldn't do, but also by handling the pain, the continual, chronic pain. I didn't realize how pain colored my whole world and how depressive it was. Before I was finally able to control my RA with proper medications, I truly had thought that my attractiveness and my ability to be attractive to men was gone, was lost. So for me to come back and do The Graduate was an affirmation to myself. I had my body back. I was back.

God is deeply grieved by the thanklessness and ingratitude of which so many of us are guilty. When Jesus healed the ten lepers and only one came back to give Him thanks, in wonderment and pain He exclaimed, "Were not the ten cleansed? but where are the nine?" (Luke 17:17, R.V.) How often must He look down upon us in sadness at our forgetfulness of His repeated blessings, and His frequent answer to our prayers.

Đúng lúc ấy, đột nhiên tôi nghĩ ra, có lẽ chuyện hai người chúng tôi đã chấm dứt. Không còn gì nữa. Không thể phát triển theo bất kỳ hướng nào khác. Giống như đám thực vật trong lồng kính, dù có hỗ trợ nhau nhưng cũng chẳng thể cho nhau cảm giác cứu rỗi hay giải phóng. Cảm giác như loài thú đang âm thầm liếm vết thương trong bóng tối. Hay tựa như những vợ chồng già tựa vào nhau tìm hơi ấm cuối đời. Chỉ còn thế thôi. Ý nghĩ ấy lan rộng, tràn ngập lòng tôi.

To become a drider again was the worst torture she could imagine. Every day, every movement, was pain. No thought independent of the eternal shackles—a mere notion of turning against any drow loyal to Lolth would send wracking agony through a drider. There was no free will, no beauty, no hope, no cessation of the mental anguish and torment. It was a curse that did not lessen with time, a curse against which neither the mind nor the body could numb itself.

The point of self-reflection is, foremost, to clarify and to find honesty. Self-reflection is the way to throw self-lies out and face the truth—however painful it might be to admit that you were wrong. We seek consistency in ourselves, and so when we are faced with inconsistency, we struggle to deny. Denial has no place in self-reflection, and so it is incumbent upon a person to admit his errors, to embrace them and to move along in a more positive direction. We can fool ourselves for all sorts of reasons. Mostly for the sake of our ego, of course, but sometimes, I now understand, because we are afraid. For sometimes we are afraid to hope, because hope breeds expectation, and expectation can lead to disappointment. And

For example, many a woman is praying for the conversion of her husband. That certainly is a most proper thing to ask; but many a woman's motive in asking for the conversion of her husband is entirely improper, it is selfish. She desires that her husband may be converted because it would be so much more pleasant for her to have a husband who sympathized with her; or it is so painful to think that her husband might die and be lost forever. For some such selfish reason as this she desires to have her husband converted. The prayer is purely selfish. Why should a woman desire the conversion of her husband? First of all and above all, that God may be glorified; because she cannot bear the thought that God the Father should be dishonored by her husband trampling underfoot the Son of God.

is it within us all, when the memories of war have faded, to so want to be a part of something great that we throw aside the quiet, the calm, the mundane, the peace itself? Do we collectively come to equate peace with boredom and complacency? Perhaps we hold these embers of war within us, dulled only by sharp memories of the pain and the loss, and when that smothering blanket dissipates with the passage of healing time, those fires flare again to life.

No one sets the standard of my happiness, except for me. Other people might think, "My, just that?" But for me it's not just a speck of dust, but the universe. The same goes with pain. The standard for happiness and pain, I'm the one who decides it.

And then I got curious- are we only allowed to be fully sad when there's a special reason or a grand story? Should I adhere to other people's standards and just cut the size of my pain? What should I do with myself suffocating every moment?

Its almost as if he's been hit on the dead with a cricket bat,' observed Samantha. 'It's worse then that,' said Nanny Piggins. 'When you hit someone on the head with a cricket bat, the sharp pain and the flowing blood let them know something is wrong. But then a man is dazzled by a beautiful woman, he doesn't realise he has gone temporarily insane. The opposite happens. He suddenly thinks he is the funniest, cleverest man ever to walk on earth. Really, when single men start dating they should all be locked up in lunatic asylums.

The stab that I'd take with this situation the moment I felt ready I spoke to my mother lately when I'm old be fore I marrid by that I didnt what i expected from her instead she didnt notice the pain that i'd eexperianced through. To heal myself I forgave her,accepted my situation learn to live positive in it.In the side of forgive the group of men that raped me continueosly I decided to live my home town to start new life another town where I meet with my soul partner God provided with handsome suitable guy as I had issued with men it took God's misterious ways to connect us he's my friend and prayer partner God blessed us with two sons and one doughter, he continue on helping us on raising our kids again i deed decision of raing our kids for myself by being house wife thanks God and my husband to be succed i 'm not perfect but i tried with God help and my closest friends,family it heppening.As i developed anger, sensitive and other unneeded personality throught my issue activities like body training,blogging,podcusting,reading bible and other booksk,being author,listing music special gospel help me to be in right position.The thing i can ask or say to other to other people is "Women Please love and protect your kids let stop this take quick action to help them if you see suspetious thing be close to them in a way that you manage to see if there's something not right heppen to them cause sometimes they will not tell you like on my case in any reason usualy strangers or rapist make them not say anything or your communication with them is not strong enough or any reason they make them shut To the community let protect each other be your sisters or brothers keeper on your neighborhood or in house report the susptious act cause tomorrow will heppen in your house.Men you are the master protector not rapist stand your ground as God do trusted you with kids and women protect them stop taking advantage who ever does that.To those who like me the victim of rape I'm your girl to use alcohol,drugs and sex edict throw shame and unclean feeling is not solution it only running away act ask yourself that how long you'll runing away with cancer that eating you alive,face by allowing God to be your sim card, rica him and let him operate in you by rebuid you make you a new creation spiritual by acepting Jesus Christ as lord and your savior, healer and believe that God raised him from death in your special prayer with your mouth loud as confesion as I deed you'll be safe 100% in his arms like I am your story will change completly as mine finely no one knows you better dont allow situation explain you you beautiful handsome valueble God love you more than every one and he cares about you I love you'll take care of yourself youre the hero &herous.

I am led inescapably to the belief that the level to which one can empathetically look past the personal to the pains and losses of the wider situation is a measure of one’s heart and goodness.

Relationship Anarchy explodes not just exclusivity but the possibility of exclusivity, he said, almost recovered, by, well, like the name says, applying anarchist principles to the interpersonal relationships—by flattening all hierarchies, among all relationships. To an outsider it sounds like polyamory—RA naturally eliminates the expectation of arbitrary sexual and romantic fidelity within an individual relationship, thereby lessening the sense of hierarchy among romantic partners—but it’s really sort of the opposite. For years, polyamorist have been trying to convince the public that theirs is a community with rules and boundaries. Ours is decidedly not. By defining our lives by what we don’t believe in, we can get closer to freedom from pain and oppression; ideally, we envision our world as a constantly (and beautifully) turning kaleidoscope of not-friendship, not-affairs, and not-marriages. There are no commitments and no guarantee that a sexual and/or romantic relationship will be more “important” than a friendship, because all relationships are free to grow to shrink or change as suits both parties, provided both engage in enthusiastic consent. Saying “no labels” sounds juvenile, he knew, but there were none, only ideals: respect, trust, communication, autonomy.

am led inescapably to the belief that the level to which one can empathetically look past the personal to the pains and losses of the wider

My favorite part of the day is also one of my saddest parts of the day at the end of the day I wash my face, climb into bed, and think of what we had, what we were, and where we could have been but I know none of this matters and I am lost in my own mind and as some would say to get out of my thoughts and look around I would love to lay here and drowned myself in your memory you bring my great happiness but great pain please do not change it is I who must go the separate way it will be hard but I know I can make it out of here alive. -A.R.A

Love, laughter, happiness. Those are the emotions that center you when you’re on the verge of dying. They’re what remind you why death is worth defying. Pain might let you know you’re not dead, but it’s those moments with your family and friends—the small moments that seemed insignificant at the time—that will push you to live.

The blend of these two often-conflicting realities—logical and emotional—goes deeper than the mere perception of the world around us. I have come to believe that it goes a long way toward determining the type of person one might be. I am led inescapably to the belief that the level to which one can empathetically look past the personal to the pains and losses of the wider situation is a measure of one’s heart and goodness.

What we probably need right now is the courage to be disliked. And yet, our need to be loved, for others' approval makes us take a knife to our souls, to sculpt an idealized version of ourselves. And that's why we're always unhappy and in pain.

Zak was able to smile at situations that didn’t necessarily bring pain to anyone. He was the first drow Drizzt had met who was apparently content with his station in life. Zak was the first drow Drizzt had ever heard laugh.

Rheumatoid arthritis (RA) is an autoimmune disorder in which the body’s immune system attacks its joint tissue. RA patients often depend on medication and targeted physical therapy to mitigate symptoms.

First, there is the shortness of breath, then the ache in the legs, then the sharp pain of the stitch, the soreness of the feet, the discomfort of the joints, and the lactic acid burn in the thighs. Eventually, some of this subsides with the increase of dizziness, delirium and sweating.

You stop noticing pain, is the thing. You notice when it's really bad or when it's different, but...on the rare occasion someone asks me what it's like to live with RA, I don't ever know what to say. They ask if it's painful, and I say yes because I know intellectually it must be, because the idea of doing some of the things that other people do without thinking fills me with dread and panic, but I always think about it mechanically. I can't do x. I don't want to do y. I don't continue the thought into, I can't do that because it would hurt. I don't want to do that because then I would be in pain. You can't live like that. There's only so much you can carry quietly by yourself, so you turn an illness into a list of rules instead of a list of symptoms, and you take pills that don't help, and you do the stretches, and you think instead of feeling. You think.

It’s been a good life. Not one without tragedy, not one without pain, but one with direction, even if so many times that perceived road seemed as if it would lead to an ethereal goal, a tantalizing ring of glittering diamonds so close and yet just outside of my extended grasp. But yes, a good life, even if so many times I looked at the world around me and had to consciously strive to ward off despair, for dark clouds so often sweep across the sky above me, the murky fields about me, and the fears within me.

It is hardly just the matrons and their priestesses, though. As this has sorted, there seem many more against our revolution than for it.” “For many reasons, though,” Zak reminded. “Fear of their matrons and of Lolth, of course. Or simply fear of this unknown future the Baenres have offered. They know the way it’s been, for the entirety their lives, even for those whose lives have spanned centuries. They know their place within that truth. They know the boundaries, the lines not to cross, the acts that give them gain and those that offer only pain. What do they know of this promised world beyond Lolth, particularly when it, too, from their perspective at least, will be under the designs of House Baenre?

Cheating in a physical competition, as I learned most painfully in my years at the academy, doesn’t make you a better swordsman—in fact, the result might prove quite the opposite. Selling someone a miracle cure or coaxing them into a transaction that is meant to simply take their gold doesn’t make you a titan of business in any moral universe.

A beautiful drow woman. Too beautiful. Painfully beautiful. It was not an emissary of Lolth, she knew. No, no. It was the image of Lolth herself, reaching out to her from the Abyss. Sos’Umptu fell to her knees, as did every other drow in the Fane of the Goddess. “Many of my handmaidens have come to Menzoberranzan, my city,” Lolth said. Sos’Umptu wanted to look upon her, but dared not lift her gaze. “They brought me here, to you, in full confidence that you would be an acceptable and accepting host.” “I pray you found me acceptable.” “Indeed, Sos’Umptu Baenre. Indeed. Rise now, I command. Look upon me. Let me see the love in your eyes.

Profound pain is often the unavoidable reality of conscious existence.

Would you rather set up our child for war from the instant it’s born? If the serpiente reject our child for their throne, then you still have Salem as your heir. If my people reject it, there will be no Tuuli Thea after me.” I stepped back from her, horror seeping into my blood. My gaze flickered to the others in the room. Ailbhe’s pale blue eyes would not meet mine. Rei’s did, but then he looked away. Valene was watching Danica, her expression unreadable. My mate was the only one who would meet my gaze, her golden eyes pained. “Out,” I said, speaking to our audience. They looked at one another, hesitating. Valene first deferred, followed by Rei. Ailbhe lingered a moment longer, and I was not sure whether he did from guilt or compassion. Then we were alone, and I took Danica’s hands. “Danica, do you know what you are asking of me? Giving up my child to the Keep, to be raised by strangers, to sleep in lonely silence, to be taught to be ashamed of what she feels and what she is…and to be betrothed before she can even speak, before she can possibly understand love.” Danica closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. “I will never have a mate but you. I love you. And yes, I will have an heir. But you are talking about taking away my child.” “What else can we do?” she returned. “Zane, I was raised in the Keep; it is not as horrible as you think. And you would still see her--” She broke off, because she knew as well as I that the heir to the Tuuli Thea saw her parents only in formal situations. She shook her head. “Please…Zane, is there another way? Anything else that will keep our firstborn child from coming into the world only to see her land ripped apart by war?” Silence. “It will be months before the child is born,” I whispered, pleading not only with Danica, but with whatever powers might be. “We don’t have to make this decision, not yet.” Danica nodded, but still she said, “One queen cannot rule two worlds, even if she is of both.

ABRACADABRA: This term was already known as a magical word in the second century BCE. It appears in an amulet from that era in the form of a ba ga da in Greek letters. According to some, this could be the acrostic form of the Hebrew Ha brakha dabra, “The blessing has spoken”; others maintain it is a derivative of Abraxas. It is used in a shrinking pattern against fevers and pains. By making the word shorter and shorter, the pains or illness are encouraged to gradually diminish: Abracadabra Bracadabra Racadabra Acadabra Cadabra Adabra Abra Bra Ra A

...until the memory of your loved one is just... poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed, so you would be spared your pain.

To see your child, Jarlaxle, is to know vulnerability. Is to know that there is something in the world that leaves you truly vulnerable, that there is this person more important to you than you, and that if anything terrible happened to her, it would be a hundred times more painful than if it had happened to you.

Living with RA means coexisting with an unpredictable and cantankerous shadow that will, at random intervals, try to swallow your life.

My pain in the ass brother-in-law scowls as soon as he sees me. Ah, what a loving relationship we have. “What are you doing here?” Even though the question comes out in an angry snark, I can tell his words are filled with rainbows and kisses.

Running is a deeply unpleasant sport at the best of times, but it is particularly awful when you’re bad at it. There is so much unpleasantness at once. First, there is the shortness of breath, then the ache in the legs, then the sharp pain of the stitch, the soreness of the feet, the discomfort of the joints, and the lactic acid burn in the thighs. Eventually, some of this subsides with the increase of dizziness, delirium and sweating.

The next archetype, the Empress, is the Catalyst of the Mind, that which acts upon the conscious mind to change it. The fourth being the Emperor, which is the Experience of the Mind, which is that material stored in the unconscious which creates its continuing bias. Am I correct with those statements? Ra I am Ra. Though far too rigid in your statements, you perceive correct relationships. There is a great deal of dynamic interrelationship in these first four archetypes. (79.36) Questioner Would the Hierophant then be somewhat of a governor or sorter of these effects so as to create the proper assimilation by the unconscious of that which comes through the conscious? Ra I am Ra. Although thoughtful, the supposition is incorrect in its heart. (79.37) Questioner What would be the Hierophant? Ra I am Ra. The Hierophant is the Significator of the Body[57] complex, its very nature. We may note that the characteristics of which you speak do have bearing upon the Significator of the Mind complex but are not the heart. The heart of the mind complex is that dynamic entity which absorbs, seeks, and attempts to learn. (79.38) Questioner Then is the Hierophant the link, you might say, between the mind and the body? Ra I am Ra. There is a strong relationship between the Significators of the mind, the body, and the spirit. Your statement is too broad. (79.39) Questioner Let me skip over the Hierophant for a minute because I’m really not understanding that at all, and just ask you if the Lovers represent the merging of the conscious and the unconscious, or a communication between conscious and unconscious? Ra I am Ra. Again, without being at all unperceptive, you miss the heart of this particular archetype which may be more properly called the Transformation of the Mind. (79.40) Questioner Transformation of the mind into what? Ra I am Ra. As you observe Archetype Six you may see the student of the mysteries being transformed by the need to choose betwixt the light and the dark in mind. (79.41) Questioner Would the Conqueror, or Chariot, then, represent the culmination of the action of the first six archetypes into a conquering of the mental processes, even possibly removing the veil? Ra I am Ra. This is most perceptive. The Archetype Seven is one difficult to enunciate. We may call it the Path, the Way, or the Great Way of the Mind. Its foundation is a reflection and substantial summary of Archetypes One through Six. One may also see the Way of the Mind as showing the kingdom or fruits of appropriate travel through the mind in that the mind continues to move as majestically through the material it conceives of as a chariot drawn by royal lions or steeds. At this time we would suggest one more full query, for this instrument is experiencing some distortions towards pain. (79.42) Questioner Then I will just ask for the one of the archetypes which I am least understanding at this point, if I can use that word at all. I am still very much in the dark, so to speak, with respect to the Hierophant and precisely what it is. Could you give me some other indication of what that is, please? Ra I am Ra. You have been most interested in the Significator which must needs become complex. The Hierophant is the original archetype of mind which has been made complex through the subtile movements of the conscious and unconscious.[58] The complexities of mind were evolved rather than the simple melding of experience from Potentiator to Matrix. The mind itself became an actor possessed of free will and, more especially, will. As the Significator of the mind, the Hierophant has the will to know, but what shall it do with its knowledge, and for what reasons does it seek? The potential[s] of a complex significator are manifold.

I was secretly hoping that some denizen of the Underdark would prove stronger than I. Could the pain of tooth or talon be greater than the emptiness and the silence? I think not.

Qualia is your inner mental experiences. Science has no way to prove or explain it. You don't have to prove to someone that pain is real. Science has limitations.

Belwar’s master, fearing for its god-thing, tried to follow, but the deep gnome’s strength had returned tenfold with his anger, and his wounded arm felt no pain as he smashed his enchanted hammer-hand into the squishy flesh of the illithid’s head. Sparks flew and scorched the illithid’s face, and the creature slammed back into the wall, its milky, pupil-less eyes staring at Belwar in disbelief. Then it slid, ever so slowly, to the floor, down into the darkness of death.

There is no pain greater than this; not the cut of a jagged-edged dagger nor the fire of a dragon’s breath. Nothing burns in your heart like the emptiness of losing something, someone, before you truly have learned of its value. Often now I lift my cup in a futile toast, an apology to ears that cannot hear: