Rainbow Prism Quotes

English words are like prisms. Empty, nothing inside, and still they make rainbows.

When I set a glass prism on a windowsill and allow the sun to flood through it, a spectrum of colors dances on the floor. What we call "white" is a rainbow of colored rays packed into a small space. The prism sets them free. Love is the white light of emotion.

Isn't love the emanation of desire or just a statement of emptiness in expectation? As we long for what is missing and finally hold it, could it be that we may not crave it anymore in the end? Still, if we learn to "enjoy" the precious moments of its presence, it can remain a captivating experience and a mesmerizing adventure. If it keeps on overwhelming us with "joy," love can turn into a magic prism and make it possible to discover a rainbow of twinkles and enchanting sceneries. As our imagination constantly discerns new qualities, the sparkle of love does not expire in the boredom of forgetfulness. (“Twilight of desire“)

She saw him fracture into rainbow colors through the prism of her love.

When the sunlight strikes raindrops in the air, they act like a prism and form a rainbow. The rainbow is a division of white light into many beautiful colors. These take the shape of a long round arch, with it’s path high above, and it’s two ends apparently beyond the horizon. There is, according to legend, a boiling pot of a gold at one end. People look, but no one ever finds it. When a man looks for something beyond his reach, his friends say he is looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I know this is one of the unthinkable taboos of our society, but I had discovered in myself a talent for a wonderful, unrepentant laziness, the kind most people never know after childhood. I had a prism from an old chandelier hanging in my window, and I could spend entire afternoons lying on my bed and watching it flick tiny chips of rainbow around the room. I read a lot. I always have, but in those two years I gorged myself on books with a voluptuous, almost erotic gluttony. I would go to the local library and take out as many as I could, and then lock myself in the bedsit and read solidly for a week. I went for old books, the older the better-- Tolstoy, Poe, Jacobean tragedies, a dusty translation of Laclos--so that when I finally resurfaced, blinking and dazzled, it took me days to stop thinking in their cool, polished, crystalline rhythms.

Insomniacs should not be forced to exist in a realm with reflective glass. From the first look I’m boxed in a prism, rainbows charming the other dark-circled self into sharing my prison. One eye turns on the other, each accusing the other of being responsible for an appearance oddly elfin, before exiting head and bouncing like lottery balls through the mirror walls and then drifting up and out the open and unguarded Well of the Wyrd. There, everyone with mirrors and mushrooms is waiting for me, faded and dissolved into giggles.

Color is not a trivial subject but one that has compelled, for hundreds of years, a passionate curiosity in the greatest artists, philosophers, and natural scientists. The young Spinoza wrote his first treatise on the rainbow; the young Newton’s most joyous discovery was the composition of white light; Goethe’s great color work, like Newton’s, started with a prism; Schopenhauer, Young, Helmholtz, and Maxwell, in the last century, were all tantalized by the problem of color; and Wittgenstein’s last work was his Remarks on Colour. And yet most of us, most of the time, overlook its great mystery.

It was no amalgam of colors comparable to anything in mortal existence. It was as if all natural colors had been mutated into a painfully lush iridescence by some prism fantastically corrupted in its form; it was a rainbow staining the sky after a poison deluge; it was an aurora painting the darkness with a blaze of insanity, a blaze that did not burn vigorously but shimmered with an insect-jeweled frailness.

Radiation all along the larger spectrum can be unwoven in the same kind of way as the rainbow, although the particular instrument we use for the unweaving—a radio tuner instead of a prism, for instance—is different in different parts of the spectrum.

From around the corner's edge a grotesque light was trickling out, the first intimations of an ominous sunrise over a dark horizon. I dimly recognized this colored light, though not from my waking memory. It grew more intense, now pouring out in weird streams from beyond the solid margin of the building. And the more intense it grew, the more clearly I could hear the screaming voice that had called out to me in a dream. I shouted his name, but the swelling colored brightness was a field of fear which kept me from making any move toward it. It was no amalgam of colors comparable to anything in mortal experience. It was as if all natural colors had been mutated into a painfully lush iridescence by some prism fantastically corrupted in its form; it was a rainbow staining the sky after a poison deluge; it was an aurora painting the darkness with a blaze of insanity, a blaze that did not burn vigorously but shimmered with an insect-jeweled frailness. And, in actuality, it was nothing like these color-filled effusions, which are merely a feeble means of partially fixing a reality uncommunicable to those not initiated to it, a necessary resorting to the makeshift gibberish of the mystic isolated by his experience and left without a language to describe it. ("The Dreaming In Nortown")

The past is perpetually in play, always malleable, ever salvageable. Did any of this story happen as I said it did? The telling of a tale puts a prism to it from which incalculable new angles rainbow forth. You made this as real as I; remember it however you'd like.

A hundred years ago, Auguste Comte, … a great philosopher, said that humans will never be able to visit the stars, that we will never know what stars are made out of, that that's the one thing that science will never ever understand, because they're so far away. And then, just a few years later, scientists took starlight, ran it through a prism, looked at the rainbow coming from the starlight, and said: "Hydrogen!" Just a few years after this very rational, very reasonable, very scientific prediction was made, that we'll never know what stars are made of.

Julia doesn’t like James Gillen, but that’s not the point, not out here. In the Court, back in the Court any eye you catch could be Love peal-of-bells-firework-burst Love, all among the sweet spray of the music and the rainbowing prisms of the lights, this could be the one huge mystery every book and film and song is sizzling with; could be your one-and-only shoulder to lean your head on, fingers woven with yours and lips gentle on your hair and Our Song pouring out of every speaker. This could be the one heart that will open to your touch and offer up its never-spoken secrets, that has spaces perfectly shaped to hold all of yours.

Tell me what you need to tell me but keep far away from my son who still loves a beautiful thing not for what it means— this way or that—but for the way facets set off prisms and prisms spin up everywhere and from his own jeweled body he’s cast rainbows—made every shining true color. Now try to tell me—man or woman—your heart was ever once that brave.

And as much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic. And - I would argue as well - all love. ... And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky - so the space where I exist, and I want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

I was reminded of a remark of Willa Cather's, that you can't paint sunlight, you can only paint what it does with shadows on a wall. If you examine a life, as Socrates has been so tediously advising us to do for so many centuries, do you really examine the life, or do you examine the shadows it casts on other lives? Entity or relationships? Objective reality or the vanishing point of a multiple perspective exercise? Prism or the rainbows it refracts? And what if you're the wall? What if you never cast a shadow or rainbow of your own but have only caught those cast by others?

With a sharp inhale, Bryce rallied her magic. On the exhale, she sent a stream of her starlight into the prism, her power faster than ever before. Starlight hit the prism, passed through it, and— “Huh.” It wasn’t a rainbow that emerged from the other side. Not even close. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing: a gradient beam of starlight. Where the rainbow would have been full of color, this one began in shimmering white light and descended into shadow. An anti-rainbow, as it were. Light falling into darkness, droplets of starlight raining from the highest beam into the shadowy band at the bottom, devoured by the darkness below.

Because between 'reality' on one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there's a middle zone, a rainbow edge where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic. And - I would argue as well - all love. Or perhaps more accurately, this middle zone illustrates the fundamental discrepancy of love. Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never dying. Pippa herself is the play between those things, both love and not love, there and not there. Photographs on the wall, a balled up sock under the sofa. The moment where I reached out to brush a piece of fluff from her hair and laughed and ducked at my touch. And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of colour across the sky - so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly the middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

Because, between 'reality' on one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there's a middle zone, a rainbow edge where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic. And - I would argue as well - all love. Or perhaps more accurately, this middle zone illustrates the fundamental discrepancy of love. Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never dying. Pippa herself is the play between those things, both love and not love, there and not-there. Photographs on the wall, a balled up sock under the sofa. The moment where I reached to brush a piece of fluff from her hair and she laughed and ducked at my touch. And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of colour across the sky - so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly the middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.

With the introduction of radio, we now had a superfast. convenient, and wireless way of communicating over long distances. Historically, the lack of a fast and reliable communication system was one of the great obstacles to the march of history. (In 490 BCE, after the Battle of Marathon between the Greeks and the Persians, a poor runner was ordered to spread the news of the Greek victory as fast as he could. Bravely, he ran 26 miles to Athens after previously running 147 miles to Sparta, and then, according to legend, dropped dead of sheer exhaustion. His heroism, in the age before telecommunication, is now celebrated in the modern marathon.) Today, we take for granted that we can send messages and information effortlessly across the globe, utilizing the fact that energy can be transformed in many ways. For example, when speaking on a cell phone, the energy of the sound of your voice converts to mechanical energy in a vibrating diaphragm. The diaphragm is attached to a magnet that relies on the interchangeability of electricity and magnetism to create an electrical impulse, the kind that can be transported and read by a computer. This electrical impulse is then translated into electromagnetic waves that are picked up by a nearby microwave tower. There, the message is amplified and sent across the globe. But Maxwell's equations not only gave us nearly instantaneous communication via radio, cell phone, and fiber-optic cables, they also opened up the entire electromagnetic spectrum, of which visible light and radio were just two members. In the 166os, Newton had shown that white light, when sent through a prism, can be broken up into the colors of the rainbow. In 1800, William Herschel had asked himself a simple question: What lies beyond the colors of the rainbow, which extend from red to violet? He took a prism, which created a rainbow in his lab, and placed a thermometer below the color red, where there was no color at all. Much to his surprise, the temperature of this blank area began to rise. In other words, there was a "color" below red that was invisible to the naked eye but contained energy. It was called infrared light. Today, we realize that there is an entire spectrum of electromagnetic radiation, most of which is invisible, and each has a distinct wavelength. The wavelength of radio and TV, for example, is longer than that of visible light. The wavelength of the colors of the rainbow, in turn, is longer than that of ultraviolet and X-rays. This also meant that the reality we see all around us is only the tiniest sliver of the complete EM spectrum, the smallest approximation of a much larger universe

The masses of dense foliage all round became prison walls, impassable circular green ice-walls, surging towards her; just before they closed in, I caught the terrified glint of her eyes. On a winter day she was in the studio, posing for him in the nude, her arms raised in a graceful position. To hold it for any length of time must have been a strain, I wondered how she managed to keep so still; until I saw the cords attached to her wrists and ankles. Instead of the darkness, she faced a stupendous sky-conflagration, an incredible glacial dream-scene. Cold coruscations of rainbow fire pulsed overhead, shot through by shafts of pure incandescence thrown out by mountains of solid ice towering all round. Closer, the trees round the house, sheathed in ice, dripped and sparkled with weird prismatic jewels, reflecting the vivid changing cascades above. Instead of the familiar night sky, the aurora borealis formed a blazing, vibrating roof of intense cold and colour, beneath which the earth was trapped with all its inhabitants, walled in by those impassable glittering ice-cliffs. The world had become an arctic prison from which no escape was possible, all its creatures trapped as securely as were the trees, already lifeless inside their deadly resplendent armour. Frozen by the deathly cold emanating from the ice, dazzled by the blaze of crystalline ice-light, she felt herself becoming part of the polar vision, her structure becoming one with the structure of ice and snow. As her fate, she accepted the world of ice, shining, shimmering, dead; she resigned herself to the triumph of glaciers and the death of her world. Fear was the climate she lived in; if she had ever known kindness it would have been different. The trees seemed to obstruct her with deliberate malice. All her life she had thought of herself as a foredoomed victim, and now the forest had become the malign force that would destroy her. In desperation she tried to run, but a hidden root tripped her, she almost fell. Branches caught in her hair, tugged her back, lashed out viciously when they were disentangled. The silver hairs torn from her head glittered among black needles; they were the clues her pursuers would follow, leading them to their victim. She escaped from the forest at length only to see the fjord waiting for her. An evil effluence rose from the water, something primitive, savage, demanding victims, hungry for a human victim. It had been night overhead all along, but below it was still daylight. There were no clouds. I saw islands scattered over the sea, a normal aerial view. Then something extraordinary, out of this world: a wall of rainbow ice jutting up from the sea, cutting right across, pushing a ridge of water ahead of it as it moved, as if the flat pale surface of sea was a carpet being rolled up. It was a sinister, fascinating sight, which did not seem intended for human eyes. I stared down at it, seeing other things at the same time. The ice world spreading over our world. Mountainous walls of ice surrounding the girl. Her moonwhite skin, her hair sparkling with diamond prisms under the moon. The moon’s dead eye watching the death of our world.

Organizing one’s system around the A5 Active Knower is an essential feature of the Kantian Paradigm: the examination of anything else, including history, must start from the analysis of the structures of the self because it is these structures that constitute the rest. The subject is the prism whose configuration accounts for the rainbow.

Before 1800 the word “light,” apart from its use as a verb and an adjective, referred just to visible light. But early that year the English astronomer William Herschel observed some warming that could only have been caused by a form of light invisible to the human eye. Already an accomplished observer, Herschel had discovered the planet Uranus in 1781 and was now exploring the relation between sunlight, color, and heat. He began by placing a prism in the path of a sunbeam. Nothing new there. Sir Isaac Newton had done that back in the 1600s, leading him to name the familiar seven colors of the visible spectrum: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. (Yes, the colors do indeed spell Roy G. Biv.) But Herschel was inquisitive enough to wonder what the temperature of each color might be. So he placed thermometers in various regions of the rainbow and showed, as he suspected, that different colors registered different temperatures.† Well-conducted experiments require a “control”—a measurement where you expect no effect at all, and which serves as a kind of idiot-check on what you are measuring. For example, if you wonder what effect beer has on a tulip plant, then also nurture a second tulip plant, identical to the first, but give it water instead. If both plants die—if you killed them both—then you can’t blame the alcohol. That’s the value of a control sample. Herschel knew this, and laid a thermometer outside of the spectrum, adjacent to the red, expecting to read no more than room temperature throughout the experiment. But that’s not what happened. The temperature of his control thermometer rose even higher than in the red. Herschel wrote: [I] conclude, that the full red falls still short of the maximum of heat; which perhaps lies even a little beyond visible refraction. In this case, radiant heat will at least partly, if not chiefly, consist, if I may be permitted the expression, of invisible light; that is to say, of rays coming from the sun, that have such a momentum as to be unfit for vision.

Harper once read an article about hummingbirds, and how with certain kinds, the sunlight becomes a prism through their wings and the prism becomes a rainbow. All that's left is the shadow of the little bird in the photo and the rainbow wings that carry it through gardens. Moving from beauty to beauty, of kept promises with each open, living flower. Everlasting hope. Everlasting covenant. Even dead seeds make roots, and roots underground sprout blooms, and the rain falls, and in due time and in due season the hummingbird returns, looking for nectar and hoping to find a harvest. Carrying her story in her rainbow wings, from generation to generation.

Newton spent under quarantine at home in rural Lincolnshire, sheltering from the Plague that was ravaging his chosen home cities of London and Cambridge, has come to be thought of today as his annus mirabilis – his ‘year of wonders’. It’s when he formulated what would become calculus and the laws of motion, for example, and it’s when he worked out the nature of light – this is when he performed his famous prism experiment that demonstrated how white light could be split into all the colours of the rainbow, a discovery so monumental that it would later be memorialised on a Pink Floyd album cover.

Sophie had to force herself to breathe slower to keep her head from getting woozy. “I’m sure I speak for everyone,” Keefe grunted, “when I say: Are we there yet?” “Almost,” Tiergan promised. “Everyone dig deep—and don’t look down.” “Steaming sasquatch poop—that’s a long way to fall!” Keefe announced. Fitz moved closer to Sophie, his new cologne tickling her nose as he whispered, “I almost forgot. I brought you a present.” Her heart skipped at least five beats when he slipped an orange velvet satchel into her palm. He’d been bringing her lots of tiny gifts lately—and she’d been trying hard not to read too much into it. “Ugh, anyone else ready to vomit from the Fitzphie?” Keefe asked. “I am,” Dex said, as Linh asked, “Did Fitzphie become an actual thing?” “I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted. “Want me to explain it?” Tam offered. “No,” Sophie said, opening the satchel and pulling out a fist-size crystal prism. It was heavy like a paperweight, and when she held it up to the light, rainbow sparkles flashed across her fingers, highlighting words carved across the base, along with the Foxfire seal. Alvar Soren Vacker “That’s called a Radiant,” Fitz explained. “It’s the highest honor any prodigy can receive when they complete the basic levels at Foxfire. Alvar was so disgustingly smug about earning one that he told my mom she should keep it on the mantel in our main sitting room, so it could inspire Biana and me to work harder.” “Ugh, I forgot about that,” Biana grumbled. “I can’t believe Mom did it.” “I know. So I think it’s time to destroy it. And considering where we are, maybe it’d be fun to let it take a really nasty fall.” “Gotta give you credit,” Tam told Fitz. “That’s pretty much a perfect gift.” It was. Though Sophie felt bad taking it. “Shouldn’t you or Biana do the honors?” “Nope. Alvar was there when they took your parents,” Biana argued. “And when you were kidnapped.” “Just throw it extra hard, for us,” Fitz added. Sophie glanced at Dex. “Alvar helped kidnap you, too.” “So boost your throw with the Sucker Punch I made you,” he suggested. They seemed pretty sure, so Sophie gathered whatever mental energy she could muster and channeled it into her arm muscles. A burst of force from the Sucker Punch gave her throw extra oomph as she hurled the Radiant down the center of the curving stairs, where none of the bodyguards would be standing. A satisfying

The Leprechaun Theory: Why did the leprechaun turn good, bad, and ugly in Valhalla? Hitler and Jesus tried to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow in a matrix prism, so the leprechaun drank a shrinking potion bought at an apothecary hard to find not long after killing his father and blowing up Cyberdyne by sending in his jokes through a portal. He realized the key for solving slavery in freedom is like conjuring a stamina potion from alcohol for there is a small charm in a chance to beat a genie via the perfect machine, until then you find a lawyer to opt in the fifth ammendment to the Judiciary Court.

prism can divide white light into an infinity of shades. The colours of the rainbow are simply a taxonomy applied reductively for convenience of use. Where indigo ends and violet begins is a debate that might be substituted for any shelving argument amongst librarians seeking to place a novel. Even fact and fiction can bleed into one another. A promise: A Librarian’s Tale, by Davris Yute

There was color when we...crossed,” says Beatrice. “Like a rainbow — ” “Yes,” says the man who actually might be Loki. “Time acts like a prism at the edge of the World Gates.” “The rainbow bridge,” says Beatrice quietly. Loki tilts his head. “I believe that humans did call it that once.

When a thin stream of white light passes through a prism, the light is separated into the respective colours of the rainbow on the opposite side. The human body has the energetic structure of two white equilateral triangles; one upright and one inverted, on top of each other. These triangular prisms construct the shape of a Star Tetrahedron or a 3D Star of David. If you can visualize a stream of white light shining down into your energetic structures and separating the light into the seven colors of the rainbow, then you can now understand what gives us the respective colors of the seven Primary Chakras. The white light shining down upon us represents Unconditional Love and the colors of the rainbow represent all of our collective emotions, behaviours, wants, needs and spiritual abilities. Our filters are allowing certain colors to shine more predominantly while at the same time dimming others due to inactivity. Our filters are therefore limitations that are giving us an incomplete form of existence. Those who are considered Enlightened have learned to focus on the pure white light behind our energetic structures.

a prism in a beam of bright sunlight, and the light will split into its colors, or wavelengths: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and finally violet, the shortest wavelength of the visible spectrum. The rainbow is revealed because the prism bends the light of each wavelength a little more

Pure love, can be observed similar to white light flowing through a prism bringing forth its seven primary colours, like a rainbow. To deeply know and be love, like the rainbow colours, you have to experience all of its parts to become all of it. - Denis J

A prism can divide white light into an infinity of shades. The colours of the rainbow are simply a taxonomy applied reductive for convenience of use. Where indigo ends and violet begins is a debate that might be substituted for any shelving argument amongst librarians seeking to place a novel. Even fact and fiction can bleed into one another. Compromise: A Librarian's Tale, by Davris Yute

A prism can divide white light into an infinity of shades. The colours of the rainbow are simply a taxonomy applied reductive for convenience of use. Where indigo ends and violet begins is a debate that might be substituted for any shelving argument amongst librarians seeking to place a novel. Even fact and fiction can bleed into one another. Compromise: A Librarian's Tale, by Davris Yute

Goethe had actually performed an extraordinary set of experiments in his investigation of colors. Goethe began as Newton had, with a prism. Newton had held a prism before a light, casting the divided beam onto a white surface. Goethe held the prism to his eye and looked through it. He perceived no color at all, neither a rainbow nor individual hues. Looking at a clear white surface or a clear blue sky through the prism produced the same effect: uniformity. But if a slight spot interrupted the white surface or a cloud appeared in the sky, then he would see a burst of color. It is “the interchange of light and shadow,” Goethe concluded, that causes color. He went on to explore the way people perceive shadows cast by different sources of colored light. He used candles and pencils, mirrors and colored glass, moonlight and sunlight, crystals, liquids, and color wheels in a thorough range of experiments. For example, he lit a candle before a piece of white paper at twilight and held up a pencil. The shadow in the candlelight was a brilliant blue. Why? The white paper alone is perceived as white, either in the declining daylight or in the added light of the warmer candle. How does a shadow divide the white into a region of blue and a region of reddish-yellow? Color is “a degree of darkness,” Goethe argued, “allied to shadow.” Above all, in a more modern language, color comes from boundary conditions and singularities.

Rainbows everywhere we shone the prism. Later on, when I was praying in my room, I thought: All right. If heaven is white it is a white like the prism. When God burns through it. All the colors of Christ are in the air. Holiness is not one thing, brother, it is not one hue or tint.

(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL ingots rainbow facets Inna hash table, forges prefixes, suffixes, and finds randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, LOTR, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given the five pointed star binds the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme. "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all...”-LOTR. Given that the one ring was forged from one too many golden ingots, it was forseen that Sauron's deception poisoned all the land and covered it in a sickened darkness for the one ring that finds them, and one ring that binds them, for they were all deceived...I before E except after C.

(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL ingots rainbow facets Inna hash table, forges prefixes, suffixes, and finds randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, LOTR, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given the five pointed star binds the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme. "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all...”-LOTR. Given that the one ring was forged from one too many golden ingots, it was forseen that Sauron's deception poisoned all the land and covered it in a sickened darkness for the one ring that finds them and one ring that binds them, for they were all deceived...I before E except after C.

(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL forsees rainbow facets in hash tables, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts randomized glob objects in the standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The five pointed star gives out the Model View Projection Matrix vertices, and halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme

(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL forsees rainbow facets Inna hash table, and gets prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given that the five pointed star encapsulates the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme

*>PGEMSIX< GPL >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Abstracter 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “>PGEMSIX< GPL forsees rainbow facets in randomized hash tables, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The five pointed star forgoes Model View Projection Matrices, and halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme

<> >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the model view projection matrix, and binds coins Inna two-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.

>Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the model view projection matrix, binds, and halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.

*PO >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the Model View Projection Matrix, binds or halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.

*PO GPL >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Super Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the Model View Projection Matrix, binds or halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.

The Radiance Inna Sacred Globe Orifices The Rainbow Facet And The Sea Forges The Hourglass At Its Sandy Zenith Inna Hexagonal Prism

The Radiance Inna Sacred Globe Orifices The Rainbow Facet And The Sea Forges The Hourglass Inna Hexagonal Prism At Its Sandy Zenith

Make your home beautiful and decorate it with crystals. That is the way I can come into your lives even if you are not aware of me as a deity. It is a way for me to dance a little; to be playful. I love to be playful. There are rainbow prisms that emerge from crystals hanging in a window. I am the rainbow prisms dancing around the room. It’s my favorite way to appear in the material world. Decorate your windows with crystals and you will see my living, moving manifestation. Playfulness and laughter can help keep you healthy.” ~ Kuan Yin

Life, when I looked at rainbow and asked you to bring colors, you gave me white without a prism?

Goethe refused to view color as a static quantity, to be measured in a spectrometer and pinned down like a butterfly to cardboard. He argued that color is a matter of perception. “With light poise and counterpoise, Nature oscillates within her prescribed limits,” he wrote, “yet thus arise all the varieties and conditions of the phenomena which are presented to us in space and time.” The touchstone of Newton’s theory was his famous experiment with a prism. A prism breaks a beam of white light into a rainbow of colors, spread across the whole visible spectrum, and Newton realized that those pure colors must be the elementary components that add to produce white. Further, with a leap of insight, he proposed that the colors corresponded to frequencies. He imagined that some vibrating bodies—corpuscles was the antique word—must be producing colors in proportion to the speed of the vibrations. Considering how little evidence supported this notion, it was as unjustifiable as it was brilliant. What is red? To a physicist, it is light radiating in waves between 620 to 800 billionths of a meter long. Newton’s optics proved themselves a thousand times over, while Goethe’s treatise on color faded into merciful obscurity.

the world presents itself as tantalizing fragments of a lost whole. Caught in the foreground, he can’t see the underlying background. Caught in the “myriads of forms,” as the Hindus say, he can’t find the Oneness that would bring him calm and stability. Living on the finite side of the prism, he can only experience light in its dazzling but fractured rainbow hues.

I’d cared. But I’d cared in the ways that affected me. I’d cared when I or the people I knew suffered, when the injustices inflicted by the Descended were forced into my path, disrupting my happy little bubble. And now, I was finally starting to look beyond the oily rainbow prism of that bubble’s edge to the reality of the world beyond.