Rea Quotes

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan, The proper study of mankind is Man. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between, in doubt to act or rest; In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast; In doubt his mind or body to prefer; Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err; Alike in ignorance, his reason such, Whether he thinks too little or too much; Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurl'd; The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! Go, wondrous creature! mount where science guides, Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides; Instruct the planets in what orbs to run, Correct old time, and regulate the sun; Go, soar with Plato to th’ empyreal sphere, To the first good, first perfect, and first fair; Or tread the mazy round his followers trod, And quitting sense call imitating God; As Eastern priests in giddy circles run, And turn their heads to imitate the sun. Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule— Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!

Sunt nervoasă și par rea.În fond sunt foarte bună.Dacă nu eram atât de bună n-aș suferi pentru atâtea lucruri care nu mă privesc în niciun fel.„Bună” nu e cuvântul propriu.Eu nu sunt bună,sunt sensibilă.Sensibilă și fină:ar trebui un cuvânt nou care să le includa pe amândouă.

SeDuciR es MoRir ComO ReaLidaD y reProDuciRse CoMo IlusiOn

- Molly e asa de rea cu toata lumea, sau sunt eu un caz special? Pentru o clipa, Penn paru ca avea sa-i dea un alt raspuns, dar o batu pe spate. - Este felul ei fermecator de a fi, draga mea.

أينما يخط الإنسان يميل إلى ترك آثار لا تخطئها العين لتكشف عن مشاعره، واضطرابه، عن أخطائه، وذنوبه.

There is never just one bitch in a fat, mad girl's life.

Dav­el­lon may be a vil­lage, but the Dav­el­lon House can be any­thing you make it. No­bil­ity has to start some­where. It might as well start with you. Let no­body look down on you, for what­ever rea­son, My Lord. Ti­tles are granted or in­her­ited, no­bil­ity isn't. ~Tenaxos I to Landar Parmingh, Baron Davellon

إن الروايات هي قوائم للأشياء الضائعة، وحيث إننا نصاب بالألم حينما نفقد شيئا ما، فهي عادة ما تكون قصصا حزينة، ومؤلمة.

When we C things correctly, life becomes Creative instead of reaCtive.

Aveam în casă o pisică, Era sălbatică de mică, Dar uneori, și ea, Părea Cu ochii că-mi vorbea, Părea Că nu mai este rea.

Just because I’m breathing, doesn’t mean I’m alive; vice versa.

There is an ancient rule: actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea -- the act does not create guilt unless the mind is also guilty.

Situatia de srestin e tot una cu statutul de aristocrat. De ce?Pentru ca isi are temeiul in cele mai ,senoriale' insusiri:libertatea si increderea. Ce este nobilul si feudalul?Mai presus de toate orice om liber. Ce inseamna credinta?Incredere in Domnul, desi lumea e rea, in ciuda nedreptatii, in pofida josniciei, cu toate ca de pretutindeni nu vin decat semnale negative.

Toate ideile despre Biserică sunt recunoscute drept ceea ce sunt, cea mai rea şi falsă plată din câte există, pentru a deprecia firea şi valorile fireşti, însuşi preotul e recunoscut drept ceea ce este, cea mai periculoasă speţă de parazit, adevăratul păianjen negru al vieţii...

The mind is a mysterious place. In its vast and many corners are hidden pieces of knowledge. When we sleep, they float up in the form of dreams. They can be wild, have a mind of their own, and lead us to places. They can carry messages or warnings. If they recur, one must heed them.

Alec didn’t recognize the woman, but he recognized that tone of voice. He knew how it was to lay claim to what you loved, a§ the more insistently because people doubted the love that belonged to you. Alec wasn’t sure what to say, so he did one of his favorite things. He produced his phone and found a rea§y good picture, walked up to the dais, and showed it to them both. “›is is my son, Max.

Cît despre umilinţele proprii, oricînd le vei putea idealiza ori ascunde,luand un aer de stîrpitură distinsă, continuînd să fii, cu demnitate, ultimul om. Politeţea ― rutină a nenorocirii, prerogativă a celor care, născuţi fără speranţă, au început-o cu sfîrşitul! Să te ştii dintr-o sămînţă rea, ce n-a dat rod niciodată, e o amărăciune în care intră un dram de mîngîiere, ba chiar de voluptate.

...ei, daca asa s-ar fi intamplat lucrurile, va asigur ca mi-asi fi scos palaria si asi fi zis: domnule, este o lege! Daca e buna, daca e rea, nu discutam acum! buna sau rea, e pentru toata lumea si daca tu, care ai facut-o, o s-o simti si tu pe coaja ta ca e rea, o sa te grabesti cat mai repede s-o schimbi. Da, dar tu vii si nu respecti legea, il iai tot pe ala lovitu si-l judeci, iar pe ala care a lovit stai cu el in sedinta...

Meie lähme ema ja Nelega vaatama etendust nimega "Evolución". Olavi soovitusel istume parimatel kohtadel: kaheksanda rea keskel. Kohad number 2, 4 ja 6. Ei, need on ikka kõrvuti. Sest kohti nummerdatakse siin tõesti nõnda, et keskelt vasakule jooksevad paaritud numbrid ja paremale paaris numbrid. Miks minna otse, kui saab ringiga, eks ole.

My sister is there with, probably, the most dangerous people on this city! You have a little sister?” “No.” “Then you don’t have any right to tell me what I suposse to sacrifice if it’s for my sister’s sake!” “Owen...” “She’s the only younger sibling I have. If something happens to her, I don’t see any reason why should I keep alive on this freaking Earth!

Though the heart may be cracked wide, pain can still seep in.

They’re criminal, but I’m a villain in someone’s untold story.

Know then thyself; presume not God to scan, The proper study of mankind is Man. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, And too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act or rest; In doubt to deem himself a God or Beast; In doubt his mind or body to prefer; Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err. Alike in ignorance, his reason such, Whether he thinks too little or too much.

Toată viaţa nu facem altceva decât să interpretăm cuvinte. Noi - pe-ale altora, alţii - pe-ale noastre. Şi cum să nu te gândeşti la ele, cum să-ţi fie indiferente, când urmele lor sînt de neşters? "O faptă rea se-ndreaptă printr-o faptă bună, o vorbă rea nu se-ndreaptă prin nimic", spune-un moralist de-al meu.

But I want to paint you. That’s how artists come to possess things beyond their means, can you understand that?

You can live here all your life, and still be considered an outsider.

Times like this are like muddy water, Rea, you just got to keep moving through it until you get to the other side.

For something to be a crime there must be both an actus reus and mens rea — that is, a criminal act accompanied by a criminal state of mind.

Frica pe care o lași să te conducă este mai rea decât situația rea în care te găsești.

Welcome to my digital library, where every reader finds a home and every story finds its voice.

When in doubt, shoot 1st and ask questions later, but avoid the head, "because they'rea lot more likely to answer if they're not dead.

There is an ancient rule: actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea—“the act does not create guilt unless the mind is also guilty.

actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea—“the act does not create guilt unless the mind is also guilty.

Fiindcă nici o născocire rea n-a încolțit în sufletul omului mai repede ca banul

I took some rea; comfort from my day job. Like a soprano's boned corset, the built-in restrictions provided both support and something to push against.

The insanity defense is not merciful. Involuntary mental hospitalization is not a treatment. Both are coercive methods of social control. Both rest on attributing an absence of mens rea to the actor. Both result in the "protected" person's being deprived of liberty. Both function as tactical weapons in psychiatry's war on dignity, liberty, and responsibility.

Pentru prima oara mi-e frica ca nu te-am stiut suficient si acum nu stiu daca sa fiu bun sau rau, ca sa ajung iar langa tine atunci cand mi-o veni ceasul. Sylvia, te-am iubit neconditionat, fara sa stiu daca ai fost buna sau rea, fara sa stiu sau sa ma intreb ce faceai cand nu eram impreuna, fara sa iti cer sa ma iubesti la fel. Dar tu ai facut-o. M-ai iubit la fel.

I don’t have a crush on her! Yet!” “Say no more, Dylan-whatever your middle name is-Blair!” “David.” “Whatever. By the power and duty of big brother, I command you to not have a crush on my sister, until I know you better enough!” “That’s actually quite fair.” “But I don’t have a crush on her!

Rea­sons Why I Loved Be­ing With Jen I love what a good friend you are. You’re re­ally en­gaged with the lives of the peo­ple you love. You or­ga­nize lovely ex­pe­ri­ences for them. You make an ef­fort with them, you’re pa­tient with them, even when they’re side­tracked by their chil­dren and can’t pri­or­i­tize you in the way you pri­or­i­tize them. You’ve got a gen­er­ous heart and it ex­tends to peo­ple you’ve never even met, whereas I think that ev­ery­one is out to get me. I used to say you were naive, but re­ally I was jeal­ous that you al­ways thought the best of peo­ple. You are a bit too anx­ious about be­ing seen to be a good per­son and you def­i­nitely go a bit over­board with your left-wing pol­i­tics to prove a point to ev­ery­one. But I know you re­ally do care. I know you’d sign pe­ti­tions and help peo­ple in need and vol­un­teer at the home­less shel­ter at Christ­mas even if no one knew about it. And that’s more than can be said for a lot of us. I love how quickly you read books and how ab­sorbed you get in a good story. I love watch­ing you lie on the sofa read­ing one from cover-to-cover. It’s like I’m in the room with you but you’re in a whole other gal­axy. I love that you’re al­ways try­ing to im­prove your­self. Whether it’s running marathons or set­ting your­self chal­lenges on an app to learn French or the fact you go to ther­apy ev­ery week. You work hard to be­come a bet­ter ver­sion of your­self. I think I prob­a­bly didn’t make my ad­mi­ra­tion for this known and in­stead it came off as ir­ri­ta­tion, which I don’t re­ally feel at all. I love how ded­i­cated you are to your fam­ily, even when they’re an­noy­ing you. Your loy­alty to them wound me up some­times, but it’s only be­cause I wish I came from a big fam­ily. I love that you al­ways know what to say in con­ver­sa­tion. You ask the right ques­tions and you know ex­actly when to talk and when to lis­ten. Ev­ery­one loves talk­ing to you be­cause you make ev­ery­one feel im­por­tant. I love your style. I know you think I prob­a­bly never no­ticed what you were wear­ing or how you did your hair, but I loved see­ing how you get ready, sit­ting in front of the full-length mir­ror in our bed­room while you did your make-up, even though there was a mir­ror on the dress­ing ta­ble. I love that you’re mad enough to swim in the English sea in No­vem­ber and that you’d pick up spi­ders in the bath with your bare hands. You’re brave in a way that I’m not. I love how free you are. You’re a very free per­son, and I never gave you the sat­is­fac­tion of say­ing it, which I should have done. No one knows it about you be­cause of your bor­ing, high-pres­sure job and your stuffy up­bring­ing, but I know what an ad­ven­turer you are un­der­neath all that. I love that you got drunk at Jack­son’s chris­ten­ing and you al­ways wanted to have one more drink at the pub and you never com­plained about get­ting up early to go to work with a hang­over. Other than Avi, you are the per­son I’ve had the most fun with in my life. And even though I gave you a hard time for al­ways try­ing to for al­ways try­ing to im­press your dad, I ac­tu­ally found it very adorable be­cause it made me see the child in you and the teenager in you, and if I could time-travel to any­where in his­tory, I swear, Jen, the only place I’d want to go is to the house where you grew up and hug you and tell you how beau­ti­ful and clever and funny you are. That you are spec­tac­u­lar even with­out all your sports trophies and mu­sic cer­tifi­cates and in­cred­i­ble grades and Ox­ford ac­cep­tance. I’m sorry that I loved you so much more than I liked my­self, that must have been a lot to carry. I’m sorry I didn’t take care of you the way you took care of me. And I’m sorry I didn’t take care of my­self, ei­ther. I need to work on it. I’m pleased that our break-up taught me that. I’m sorry I went so mental. I love you. I always will. I'm glad we met.

I’ve always been good at keeping secrets—other people’s secrets, friends’ secrets, family secrets, strangers’ secrets. But I’m even better at creating secrets. No one ever guesses them … even if I beg them to try.

Orice falsă conştiinţă se constituie,progresiv,pe o rea conştiinţă de sine refulată.Unii sucombă sentimentului că sunt nimica şi nimeni,că tot ce fac şi ar putea să facă le trădează nimicnicia.Alţii se împacă cu ei înşişi,aşa cum sunt.Alţii îşi fabrică,în bezna şi singurătatea sinelui,o conştiinţă falsă şi trăiesc aşa,ca într-o nebunie ambulatorie,când mai benignă,când mai damnată.Şi mai periculoasă decât orice falsificare deliberată şi decât orice ipocrizie.Falsa conştiinţă ne obligă,fără să ne dăm seama,să jucăm un rol,mai mult,să înscenăm o dramă pentru acest rol şi să o populăm cu crezuri şi cu lupte false,cu apoteoze şi cu dezastre fictive.

Nu avea niciun sens să se simtă furios. Trebuie să iei viața așa cum e: stupidă, minunată, inteligentă, rea, nebunească și foarte, foarte plăcută. Trebuie să accepți slăbiciunile oamenilor ca pe un dat, să le iei în calcul și să le folosești pentru cauza nobilă.

I don't hate you," I tell her. And I honestly don't. Because love can't be faked when magic's involved. Ivy didn't push me out of the way just to gain a soul. She didn't force anything. It was all her choice to save and love me. From her wide eyes, she can't believe what I've said. "Rea-really?" "Yeah." I grin despite the waterworks. "Because I know you love me. Just like I love you." "I do," whispers Ivy. A single tear escapes her eye. "I love you, Rylan. And thank you for letting me hear that...once in my lifetime."

... totdeauna rămîne în conștiință ceva din sofismele strecurate în ea; păstrează un iz, ca după o băutură rea./ ... il reste toujours dans la conscience quelque chose des sophismes qu’on y a versés; elle en garde l’arrière-goût,comme d’une liqueur mauvaise.(©BeQ)

La originea tuturor acțiunilor omenești se află, de fapt, ancestrala frică de moarte. Frica asta este motorul artei și-al înmulțirii oamenilor. Frica de moarte, ca de-o pieire totală și definitivă. Mai mulți sunt cei care se tem de moarte ca pieire, decât cei care se tem de moarte ca trecere spre altceva. Pe mine, acest eventual altceva mă-nspăimântă. Pe nenea Sandu nu-l sperie deloc. „Fata mea, dacă prin moarte se termină totul, de ce să te sperii? Iar dacă prin ea pășești în altă lume, lumea aia nu poate fi mai rea decât asta.

It’s so obvious that you’re gonna ask a good looking dude to be with you for the rest of your holiday while you only know his name for like 2 hours, 32 minutes, 12 seconds.” “Trisha! Being mean is my job! June, you’re so predictable, like, it’s not a shock for us if you’re gonna ask a good looking dude to be with you for the rest of your holiday while you only know his name for like 2 hours, 33 minutes, 2 seconds.

Puterea absolută e într-adevăr un lucru ideal, când se află în mâini sigure. Despotismul cerului e singura guvernare desăvârşită. Un despotism pământean ar fi cea mai desăvârşită guvernare pământească, dacă ar exista aceleaşi condiţii - adică dacă despotul ar fi cel mai desăvârşit exemplar al speţei umane şi dacă viaţa sa ar fi veşnică. Dar, întrucât un om perfect este pieritor şi orice-ar face tot trebuie să moară, lăsându-şi stăpânirea în mâinile unui moştenitor imperfect - un despotism pământean nu numai că e o formă rea de guvernare, ci e chiar cea mai rea formă posibilă.

That was true of Claudia as well, but she dyed hers. When she couldn’t afford the real stuff (or when none of her few visitors could be persuaded to bring her some Nutrisse Champagne Blonde, her favorite), she used ReaLemon from the kitchen. It worked pretty well, but didn’t last very long.

Totul la mine este instantaneu, violent, lipsit de continuitate.Aproape nu e zi sa nu-mi amintesc o vorba rea ce mi s-a spus in fata sau care mi-a ajuns la urechi; e suficient pentru ca ranchiuna sa-nceapa a functiona in mine la fel ca o glanda...Reactia mea dureaza, cum am spus, doar o clipa-o clipa de umilinta, caci imi dezvaluie toata micimea, tot neantul meu spiritual.Poate ca ceilalti reactioneaza la fel; dar nu cred ca sunt constienti, altfel cum ar mai fi multumiti de ei insisi? Eu nu sunt multumit de mine, se-ntelege.Dar asta nu ma inalta prea mult in plan moral.Nu esti mai putin mediocru pentru ca te stii mediocru.

so meer Poets and meer Musicians, are as sottish as meer Drunkards are, who live in a continuall mist without seeing, or judgeing any thing clearly. A man should be learn'd in severall Sciences, and should have a rea∣sonable Philosophicall, and ni some measure a Mathematicall head; to be a compleat and excellent Poet

But much more often, when those of us in law enforcement see a claim of MPD, it is post-arrest. Though the suspect/defendant may never have given any indication to those around him that he has more than one personality, if the evidence against him is strong and there is no other way to explain his action, he or his attorney will put forth a multiple personality disorder defense. In other words, while his “body” may have committed the murder, it was another personality working within that body that had the motive and mens rea (literally, “guilty mind”). Legally, both the mens rea and the act are necessary components to make up a crime.

Sto­ries are struc­tured as we wish our lives were, with a begin­ning, a mid­dle, and an end; with mean­ing and pur­pose; with a trans­for­ma­tion from dark­ness to under­stand­ing. When we read a book, we look for­ward to the end-we race toward it. We want to know what hap­pens, and we want all the loose threads tied up so that we can feel reas­sured that there is a grand design, because our real lives often feel ran­dom and meaningless.” “Are you say­ing that real life has no design or meaning?” “No, I’m say­ing that the design is too com­pli­cated to know except in bursts of insight, and as for mean­ing… well, mean­ing is all we really have.

When people think an idea is theirs," he said later in his writings aboard Rea's Helm, "they take it so much the more to heart than if they think they got it from someone else, or worse, followed a great public trend. There is nothing people want to do more than to follow great trends, and nothing they want less to seem to be doing.

Si intr-adevar, ce poate fi mai trist decat sa vezi imbatranirea in viciu, mai cu seama la o femeie? Ea nu mai are nici o demnitate si nu mai inspira nici un interes. Vesnica parere de rau, nu pentru calea rea urmata, ci pentru socotelile gresite si a banilor prost folositi, este unul dintre cele mai triste lucruri pe care le poti auzi

The tragedy isn’t in the lesson, but in the manner that it’s learned.

This is my city; I was here, when this was all forest, long before people like you put the pavement down.

When there is no togetherness there is nothing

A man cannot understand hunger, until he has swum in the depths of hunger

I'm financially ugly.

Everything turns slower when she’s not around, but when she’s with me, an hour feels like a blink of an eye.

Uma das coisas que Ford Prefect jamais conseguiu entender em relação aos seres humanos era seu hábito de afirmar e repetir continuamente o óbvio mais óbvio.

Stories are gateways that open your mind to think differently and question what people have stopped questioning.

We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours.

Life is like one big blueprint, if you don't make plans then your future will not be built

I made constant deals with myself, as though these deals would culminate in some life-changing event: If there are five babies on the plane, it won’t crash. If I just say yes to this client, I’ll get into Forbes. If the light turns green when I count to three, I won’t complain for the rest of the day. If I don’t eat dessert today, I can have Mexican tomorrow.

He was more ab­sorbed with the peo­ple around him, the cou­ples and teenagers and solo film buffs hav­ing per­fectly nor­mal days. He’d had thou­sands of nor­mal days him­self. It seemed such an alien con­cept now, to have a nor­mal day. To walk around obliv­i­ous, just par­tic­i­pat­ing in the world. It seemed un­rea­son­able for any­one to be al­lowed a nor­mal day.

There is a brokenness out of which comes the unbroken . . . And a fragility out of whose depths emerges strength. There is a hollow space too vast for words through which we pass with each loss, out of whose darkness we are sanctioned into being. There is a cry deeper than all sounds whose serrated edges cut the heart as we break open to the place inside which is unbreakable and whole . . .

Forgiveness is capital 'L' Love in action. Until you have to forgive someone, you haven't loved. You just think you have. Until somebody forgives you, you don't know humility. [p342, 1st paperback edition]

I was born and raised on steel river I see it all like it was yesterday The ships and bridges they were all delivered From Sydney harbour to the Cisco bay And I met my love down on steel river We served our dreams and spent our childhood days In rainy streets we'd kiss away the shivers And hide from fear inside the latest craze Dancing to Motown Making love with Carole King record playing And oh how I loved you Say goodbye steel river

But when the time comes to judge, to un­der­stand a be­trayal which will spread like fame across the Web, which will end worlds, I ask you not to think of me—my name was not even writ on wa­ter as your lost poet’s soul said—but to think of Old Earth dy­ing for no rea­son, to think of the dol­phins, their gray flesh dry­ing and rot­ting in the sun, to see—as I have seen—the motile isles with no place to wan­der, their feed­ing grounds de­stroyed, the Equa­to­r­ial Shal­lows scabbed with drilling plat­forms, the is­lands them­selves bur­dened with shout­ing, tram­mel­ing tourists smelling of UV lo­tion and cannabis. Or bet­ter yet, think of none of that. Stand as I did af­ter throw­ing the switch, a mur­derer, a be­trayer, but still proud, feet firmly planted on Hy­pe­r­ion’s shift­ing sand, head held high, fist raised against the sky, cry­ing “A plague on both your houses!

There is an ancient rule: actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea—“the act does not create guilt unless the mind is also guilty.” That is why we do not convict children, drunks, and schizophrenics: they are incapable of deciding to commit their crimes with a true understanding of the significance of their actions. Free will is as important to the law as it is to religion or any other code of morality. We do not punish the leopard for its wildness.

She was the first close friend who I felt like I’d re­ally cho­sen. We weren’t in each other’s lives be­cause of any obli­ga­tion to the past or con­ve­nience of the present. We had no shared his­tory and we had no rea­son to spend all our time to­ gether. But we did. Our friend­ship in­ten­si­fied as all our friends had chil­dren – she, like me, was un­con­vinced about hav­ing kids. And she, like me, found her­self in a re­la­tion­ship in her early thir­ties where they weren’t specif­i­cally work­ing to­wards start­ing a fam­ily. By the time I was thirty-four, Sarah was my only good friend who hadn’t had a baby. Ev­ery time there was an­other preg­nancy an­nounce­ment from a friend, I’d just text the words ‘And an­other one!’ and she’d know what I meant. She be­came the per­son I spent most of my free time with other than Andy, be­cause she was the only friend who had any free time. She could meet me for a drink with­out plan­ning it a month in ad­vance. Our friend­ship made me feel lib­er­ated as well as safe. I looked at her life choices with no sym­pa­thy or con­cern for her. If I could ad­mire her de­ci­sion to re­main child-free, I felt en­cour­aged to ad­mire my own. She made me feel nor­mal. As long as I had our friend­ship, I wasn’t alone and I had rea­son to be­lieve I was on the right track. We ar­ranged to meet for din­ner in Soho af­ter work on a Fri­day. The waiter took our drinks or­der and I asked for our usual – two Dirty Vodka Mar­ti­nis. ‘Er, not for me,’ she said. ‘A sparkling wa­ter, thank you.’ I was ready to make a joke about her un­char­ac­ter­is­tic ab­sti­nence, which she sensed, so as soon as the waiter left she said: ‘I’m preg­nant.’ I didn’t know what to say. I can’t imag­ine the ex­pres­sion on my face was par­tic­u­larly en­thu­si­as­tic, but I couldn’t help it – I was shocked and felt an un­war­ranted but in­tense sense of be­trayal. In a de­layed re­ac­tion, I stood up and went to her side of the ta­ble to hug her, un­able to find words of con­grat­u­la­tions. I asked what had made her change her mind and she spoke in va­garies about it ‘just be­ing the right time’ and wouldn’t elab­o­rate any fur­ther and give me an an­swer. And I needed an an­swer. I needed an an­swer more than any­thing that night. I needed to know whether she’d had a re­al­iza­tion that I hadn’t and, if so, I wanted to know how to get it. When I woke up the next day, I re­al­ized the feel­ing I was ex­pe­ri­enc­ing was not anger or jeal­ousy or bit­ter­ness – it was grief. I had no one left. They’d all gone. Of course, they hadn’t re­ally gone, they were still my friends and I still loved them. But huge parts of them had dis­ap­peared and there was noth­ing they could do to change that. Un­less I joined them in their spa­ces, on their sched­ules, with their fam­i­lies, I would barely see them. And I started dream­ing of an­other life, one com­pletely re­moved from all of it. No more chil­dren’s birth­day par­ties, no more chris­ten­ings, no more bar­be­cues in the sub­urbs. A life I hadn’t ever se­ri­ously con­tem­plated be­fore. I started dream­ing of what it would be like to start all over again. Be­cause as long as I was here in the only Lon­don I knew – mid­dle-class Lon­don, cor­po­rate Lon­don, mid-thir­ties Lon­don, mar­ried Lon­don – I was in their world. And I knew there was a whole other world out there.

In court, the thing we punish is the criminal intention. -the mens rea, the guilty mind. There is an ancient rule: actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea - "the act does not create guilt unless the mind is also guilty." That is why we do not convict children, drunks, and schizophrenics: they are incapable of deciding to commit their crimes with a true understanding of the significance of their actions. Free will is as important to the law as it is to religion or any other code of morality.

Am devenit un fel de Gorgias de cafenea, care - pentru a se răzbuna pe certitudinea pierdută și pe orgoliul vlăguit - se delecta descompunând și disecând credințele altora, răsturnând tentativele lor de-a teoretiza și de-a afirma, folosindu-se nu numai de slăbiciunea și ignoranța lor, ci și de propria lui rea-credință și rea-voință. [...] Umblam într-adins să găsesc alți oameni nu pentru a-i convinge de ceva, ca mai înainte, ci pentru a-i face să se îndoiască, pentru a-i face încă o dată asemenea mie.

Of course you know that ambition and avarice are held to be, as indeed they are, a disgrace? Very true. And for this reason, I said, money and honour have no attraction for them; go- od men do not wish to be openly demanding payment for governing and so to get the name of hirelings, nor by secretly helping themselves out of the public revenues to get the name of thieves. And not being ambitious they do not care about honour. Wherefore necessity must be laid upon them, and they must be induced to serve from the fear of punishment. And this, as I imagine, is the rea- son why the forwardness to take office, instead of waiting to be compelled, has been deemed dishonourable. Now the worst part of the punishment is that he who refuses to rule is liable to be ruled by one who is worse than himself. And the fear of this, as I conceive, induces the good to take office, not because they would, but because they cannot help–not under the idea that they are going to have any benefit or enjoyment themselves, but as a necessity, and because they are not able to commit the task of ruling to any one who is better than themsel- ves, or indeed as good. For there is reason to think that if a city were composed entirely of good men, then to avoid office would be as much an object of con- tention as to obtain office is at present; then we should have plain proof that the true ruler is not meant by nature to regard his own interest, but that of his subjects; and every one who knew this would choose rather to receive a bene- fit from another than to have the trouble of conferring one.

Așa și cu greul din viață. În primele clipe, când afli vestea cea rea, totul pare fără ieșire. Crezi că o să mori de durere și de neputință. Dar nu mori, nu, omul duce enorm de multe, mult mai multe decât își poate imagina vreodată. Chiar și când nu mai poți, tot mai poți un pic. Trebuie doar să stai pe loc și să aștepți să te obișnuiești cu durerea. Apoi, încet-încet, de cele mai multe ori, afli că negrul nu e atât de dens. Începi să vezi nuanțele de gri, raza mică de lumină. O prinzi și trăiești mai departe încă o vreme, până când te lovește următorul întuneric, și iar plângi cu disperare, iar aștepți să te obișnuiești cu durerea, iar cauți raza de speranță, iar tragi soarele pe strada ta. Și tot așa, iar la final, se cheamă c-ai trăit cu-adevărat, c-ai luptat pentru tot ceea ce ți s-a întâmplat bun.

Rar se întâmplă ca lucrul pe care îl dorim cu înflăcărare să nu fie interzis cu desăvârșire acelora de la care vrem să-l obținem, sau cărora încercăm să li-l smulgem. Astfel, cele mai multe fapte rele ale oamenilor vin în calea lor deghizate sub forma necesității. Apoi după ce fapta rea a fost săvârșită într-un moment de exaltare, de teamă și delir, vedem că am fi putut să trecem pe lângă ea ocolind-o. Mijlocul care s-ar fi cuvenit să fie întrebuințat, și pe care nu l-am văzut din cauza orbirii, se înfățișează ochilor ușor și simplu; îți spui: cum de n-am făcut așa, în loc să fac altfel? Dumneavoastră, doamnelor, sunteți, dimpotrivă, foarte rar chinuite de remușcări, căci foarte rar hotărârea vine de la dumneavoastră, nenorocirile vă sunt aproape totdeauna impuse, greșelile sunt aproape întotdeauna crima altora.

I’m that annoying?” “Well, you have pretty sharp mouth.” “I don’t want to sound like a smartass, but sir I can’t handle my own smartassness for being uncontrollably sparkling from me and mentally hurts you due to its awesomeness. I’m just unbelievably genius. Dummies like you call us ‘crazy’ but it’s such a strong word.” “See? That’s why people hates you.” “And ‘us’?” “I’m pretty sure I’m not the only living genius.

What’s the matter, Rea?” he said, still sounding half asleep. “What makes you think . . .?” “You wouldn’t have called this late unless you need to talk. Give me a minute to pull my jeans on and I’ll go out in the hallway so I won’t wake the other guys.” Reagen heard several men moan or swear in the background. When times were good, Noah had a room to himself, but when times were bad in the road game he’d sometimes bunk on the floor in someone else’s room. “I’m listening,” he said after a minute. She wanted to hear his voice more than talk, but that would sound strange, so she told him about her dream and how frightened she’d been. “I wish I were there to hug you, Rea. We could cuddle up. You could tell me everything while I slept.” “I wish you were too.” Neither one said anything for a few breaths, and then she whispered, “I miss you so much sometimes. They’d probably never be as close as they’d been in high school. He was a different man and she’d changed as well, but she still missed the Noah who was half kid, half man. “What are you wearing?” he whispered, and for a moment she swore she could hear him smiling. “Shut up.” He laughed. “Just asking. Who knows, one night I might get lucky and you’d be just out of th shower.” “You never give up trying to make me blush.” Her bad mood had vanished. “Come on, Rea, give me a break. I’ve been wondering what you like naked for years. If I ever get too old to wonder, I hope you just shoot me.” “Go to bed, Noah.” “Good night, Rea. Maybe when you go back to dreaming, you’ll dream of me.” “Not likely.” She closed the phone, thinking how he always had enough magic in his pocket to change her mood even if he didn’t have enough to change his dreams.

Ţi-a fost dor de mine, Alina? Ţi-a fost dor de mine cât ai fost la palat? — În fiecare zi, i-am răspuns eu sincer. — Mie mi-a fost dor de tine în fiecare oră. Şi ştii care a fost partea cea mai rea? Că m-a luat complet prin surprindere. Mă trezeam că încercam să dau de tine, dar nu pentru vreun motiv anume, ci pur şi simplu din obişnuinţă, pentru că văzusem ceva şi voiam să-ţi povestesc sau pentru că voiam să-ţi aud vocea. Dar apoi îmi dădeam seama că nu mai erai în preajma mea, şi de fiecare dată – dar de fiecare dată – simţeam că mi se taie respiraţia. Mi-am riscat viaţa pentru tine. Am traversat jumătate din Ravka pentru tine, şi aş face la fel încă o dată şi încă o dată, numai ca să fiu cu tine, numai ca să sufăr de foame cu tine, să îndur frigul cu tine şi să te aud plângându-te de caşcaval în fiecare zi. Deci nu-mi spune că locul nostru nu e unul lângă altul, a zis el pe un ton apăsat.

În vremea de-altădată fericiţi, Şi pe mănoase ţarini mulţumiţi, C-o viaţă fără lux moleşitor, Obişnuiau s-alunge foamea lor Pe-atunci oamenii cu ghinzi uşoare. Ei nu ştiau ca miere curgătoare S-amestece în al lui Bacchus vin, Nici să cufunde-n tyrian venin. Strălucitorul fir al Serilor. Aveau pe iarbă somn odihnitor, În rîuri băutură săţioasă, Sub pini înalţi o umbră răcoroasă. Pe mare omul nu se avînta, Nici după treburi încă nu mergea Să vadă, ca un oaspe, ţărmuri noi, Pe-atunci tăcea trompeta de război. Şi sângele vărsat de ură grea Temute arme încă nu păta. De ce voia grozava nebunie Să poarte armele cu duşmănie, Când rănile ce le prieinuia Răsplata sângelui nu aducea? O, de ne-am putea întoarce-odată La obiceiurile de-altădată! Dar dragostea febrilă de-a avea Decît al Aetnei foc este mai rea. Vai, cine-a fost cel ce a dezgropat Întâiu bucăţi de aur blestemat Şi-atîtea pietre preţioase care Ne-aduc pericole şi-ngrijorare?

La urma urmei, ce era eu? Ce ma fortase conchis sa spun era foarte aproape de adevar: nu eram altceva decat suma numeroaselor mele esecuri. Jargonul freudian din timpul procesului ma facea sa zambesc, dar toata viata mea nu facusem decat sa transform viata in fictiune, refuzand sa privesc realitatea in fata. Ma comportasem intotdeauna ca si cand exista o a treia persoana care ma privea, ma asculta si imi punea nota buna sau rea pentru comportarea mea. Un zeu. Sau un autor de romane spre care ma intorceam, si eu eram personajul lui, in stare sa faca exact ce trebuie ca sa fie pe plac, vulnerabil la afronturile lui, capabil sa se adapteze la tot ce credea ca doreste romancierul-zeu. Eu singur am creat aceasta varietate de super-ego – ca o lipitoare; eu insumi am frant-o si din cauza ei am fost intotdeauna incapabil sa actionez liber. Constituise sistemul meu de aparare, dar devenise propriul meu tiran. Si acum imi dadeam seama, dar era prea tarziu. Pret de o moarte prea tarziu.

I suddenly turn my head to the blonde tall girl in tight high boots and mini tight skirt. Her shirt is—I think-in wrong size, because it is obviously too small and looks like her second skin. You can almost see her belly button. Not that I pay attention to her belly button. But everytime I see someone who’s dressing like a fucking whore, I always imagining her belly button even I do not want to. I don’t even care about her boobs or whatever. That is so weird, I probably have some major disorder.

Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state, A being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest, In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast; In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer, Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err; Alike in ignorance, his reason such, Whether he thinks too little, or too much: Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd; Still by himself, abus'd, or disabus'd; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurl'd: The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! Go, wond'rous creature! mount where Science guides, Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides; Instruct the planets in what orbs to run, Correct old Time, and regulate the Sun; Go, soar with Plato to th' empyreal sphere, To the first good, first perfect, and first fair; Or tread the mazy round his follow'rs trod, And quitting sense call imitating God; As Eastern priests in giddy circles run, And turn their heads to imitate the Sun. Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule— Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!

On that first day you simply cannot deny the humanity of the corpse. By the time you skinned the limbs, sliced through inconvenient muscles, pulled out the lungs, cut open the heart, and removed a lobe of the liver, was it hard to recognise this pile of tissue as human. And I will re-a reflective moment, we were all silently apologising to our cadavers, not because we sensed the transgression but because we did not. Doctors invade the body in every way imaginable. They see people at the most vulnerable, they are most scared, they are most private. Seeing the body as matter and mechanism is the flipside to easing the most profound human suffering.

9. Nu știu de ce spaimele deșarte tulbură mai tare; căci cele adevărate își au o măsură a lor. Tot ce vine din necunoscut își găsește locul în bănuielile și spaimele unui spirit dezlânat. De aceea nu există spaime mai vătămătoare și de nestăpânit decât cele ale nălucilor: căci spaimele de rând sunt provocate de lipsa rațiunii, dar acestea - de sminteală. > 10. Să cercetăm, așadar, cu atenție chestiunea. Este foarte probabil ca să se întâmple ceva rău în viitor: nu înseamnă însă de la sine că este sigur. Cât de multe sunt cele care vin peste noi fără să le așteptăm! Cât de multe sunt cele pe care le așteptăm și nu se împlinesc niciodată! Și chiar dacă se va întâmpla în viitor, **le ce bun să-i ieși durerii în întâmpinare?** Vei simți durerea de îndată ce va veni: între timp, speră la ceva mai bun. > 2. Ce vei avea de câștigat? Timp. Pot apărea până atunci multe care să facă o primejdie pe care o simți în vecinătate sau foarte aproape fie să se oprească, fie să se risipească, fie să cadă pe capul altuia: un incendiu lasă loc pentru o fugă; o prăvălire i-a lăsat pe unii nevătămați; uneori sabia a fost oprită chiar când atingea gâtul; câte unul i-a supraviețuit călăului său. Chiar și soarta cea rea este schimbătoare. Poate va fi, poate nu va fi: deocamdată nu este. Tine-ți în fața ochilor un viitor mai bun.

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness. For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day. For poise, walk with the knowledge you’ll never walk alone. ...카톡【ACD5】텔레【KKD55】 We leave you a tradition with a future. The tender loving care of human beings will never become obsolete. People even more than things have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed and redeemed and redeemed and redeemed. Never throw out anybody. ♥물뽕 구입♥물뽕 구매♥물뽕 판매♥물뽕 구입방법♥물뽕 구매방법♥물뽕 파는곳♥물뽕 가격♥물뽕 파는곳♥물뽕 정품구입♥물뽕 정품구매♥물뽕 정품판매♥물뽕 가격♥물뽕 복용법♥물뽕 부작용♥ Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you’ll find one at the end of your arm. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands: one for helping yourself, the other for helping others. Your “good old days” are still ahead of you, may you have many of them 수면제,액상수면제,낙태약,여성최음제,ghb물뽕,여성흥분제,남성발기부전치유제,비아,시알,88정,드래곤,바오메이,정력제,남성성기확대제,카마그라젤,비닉스,센돔,,꽃물,남성조루제,네노마정,러쉬파퍼,엑스터시,신의눈물,lsd,아이스,캔디,대마초,떨,마리화나,프로포폴,에토미데이트,해피벌륜 등많은제품판매하고있습니다 원하시는제품있으시면 추천상으로 더좋은제품으로 모시겠습니다 It is a five-member boy group of YG Entertainment who debuted in 2006. It is a group that has had a great influence on young fashion trends, the idol group that has been pouring since then, and the Korean music industry from the mid to late 2000s. Since the mid-2000s, he has released a lot of hit songs. He has played an important role in all aspects of music, fashion, and trends enjoyed by Korea's generations. In 2010, the concept of emphasizing exposure, The number of idols on the line as if they were filmed in the factory instead of the "singer", the big bang musicality got more attention, and the ALIVE of 2012, the great success of the MADE album from 2015 to 2016, It showed musical performance, performance, and stage control, which made it possible to recognize not only the public in their twenties and thirties but also men and women, both young and old, as true artists with national talents. Even today, it is in a unique position in terms of musical performance, influence, and trend setting, and it is the idol who keeps the longest working and longest position. We have made the popularity of big bang by combining various factors such as exquisite talent of all members, sophisticated music, trendy style, various arts and performances in broadcasting, lovecalls and collaboration of global brands, and global popularity. The big bang was also different from the existing idols. It is considered to be a popular idol, a idol, because it has a unique musicality, debut as a talented person in a countless idol that has become a singer as a representative, not a talent. In addition, the male group is almost the only counterpart to the unchanging proposition that there is not a lot of male fans, and as mentioned several times, it has been loved by gender regardless of gender.

Brainwashing, as it is now practiced, is a hybrid technique, depending for its effectiveness partly on the systematic use of violence, partly on skilful psychologi­cal manipulation. It represents the tradition of 1984 on its way to becoming the tradition of Brave New World. Under a long-established and well-regulated dic­tatorship our current methods of semiviolent manipula­tion will seem, no doubt, absurdly crude. Conditioned from earliest infancy (and perhaps also biologically predestined), the average middle- or lower-caste indi­vidual will never require conversion or even a re­fresher course in the true faith. The members of the highest caste will have to be able to think new thoughts in response to new situations; consequently their training will be much less rigid than the train­ing imposed upon those whose business is not to rea­son why, but merely to do and die with the minimum of fuss. These upper-caste individuals will be mem­bers, still, of a wild species -- the trainers and guard­ians, themselves only slightly conditioned, of a breed of completely domesticated animals. Their wildness will make it possible for them to become heretical and rebellious. When this happens, they will have to be either liquidated, or brainwashed back into orthodoxy, or (as in Brave New World) exiled to some island, where they can give no further trouble, except of course to one another. But universal infant condition­ing and the other techniques of manipulation and con­trol are still a few generations away in the future. On the road to the Brave New World our rulers will have to rely on the transitional and provisional techniques of brainwashing.

Definiţia durerii poate fi sistematizată astfel: 1. Prin ea se exteriorizează o judecată, în care s-a acumulat experienţa; 2. specificul ei este un şoc în sistemul nervos, care provoacă un dezechilibru; 3. este ea însăşi o reacţie, nu este cauza unei alte reacţii. 1. «În sine nu există durere. Nu rana este cea care doare; experienţa cu privire la consecinţele nefaste pe care le poate avea o rană» provoacă durerea. Cu alte cuvinte, obişnuinţa, prin care am învăţat să percepem durerea, este cea care judecă. Rana este secundară, exerciţiul durerii este cel care îşi spune cuvântul. Analiza lui Nietzsche este inventivă: mai degrabă comportamentul nostru (prin habitudini, dezvoltate din experienţă) transmite senzaţia de durere (nu rana efectivă). Ar fi interesant de investigat cum am reacţiona efectiv la durere, dacă obişnuinţa şi comportamentul nu ne-ar dicta că trebuie să plângem, să ne contorsionăm, să tremurăm atunci când ne-am lovit. 2. «Specificul autentic al durerii este întotdeauna îndelunga cutremurare, vibraţia ulterioară – determinată de un şoc înspăimântător. [...] De fapt nu suferim datorită cauzei durerii (a unei leziuni oarecare, de pildă), ci datorită dezechilibrului îndelungat ce apare ca urmare a acelui şoc.» Din acest fragment, putem izola elementul ştiinţific de cel biografic, deşi ele sunt complementare. «Cutremurarea» şi «vibraţia» (angoasa este subliniată auditiv), pe scurt «dezechilibrul» este consecinţa unui «şoc». Nici acum rana nu impune durerea, ci dezechilibrul provocat de şoc induce suferinţa. 3. «Dacă se observă corect, reacţia apare în mod vădit anterior senzaţiei de durere. [...] Mai degrabă eu disting cât se poate de clar că întâi apare reacţia piciorului spre a evita căderea, iar apoi, la un interval de timp apreciabil, devine subit perceptibilă un fel de undă dureroasă în regiunea frontală.» Nietzsche demontează o veche prejudecată, prin care se afirma că durerea este cauza unei reacţii. Analizând retardul dintre o reacţie de autoconservare şi senzaţia de durere, filosoful respinge o interpretare de tip cauză/efect. Mai degrabă durerea este o «reacţie», mişcarea contrară constând într-o altă reacţie (cele două avându-şi «sursa în două locuri diferite.»). În concluzie, «diminuarea sentimentului de putere» nu ţine de «esenţa durerii». Se ajunge la distincţia dintre plăcere şi durere, de la care s-a început. Rezumând, durerea este o «maladie» (plăcerea – nu), cele două stări nu sunt dialectice, durerea este un obstacol care asigură prin contrast creşterea puterii (la fel cum plăcerea însoţeşte sentimentul predominant al puterii). Înţeleg necesitatea respingerii durerii ca epifenomen în contextul unei teorii a voinţei de putere, dar nu ştiu dacă ea este justificată. Schopenhauer, atunci când îl parodiază pe Leibniz, spunând că trăim în cea mai rea din lumile posibile, chiar dacă este agresiv şi excesiv, are dreptatea de partea lui. Din punctul de vedere al lui Schopenhauer, durerea este de netrecut: nu poate fi negată şi nu poate fi transcesă. Nietzsche demonstrează că există stări în care durerea, dacă nu dispare, poate fi amânată. Cu alte cuvinte, semnalul indus de şoc – întârzie. Cazul durerii predormale îi dă dreptate. În cazul unei răni sau în cazul unei altercaţii violente excesul de adrenalină mută conştiinţa pe o altă frecvenţă. Durerea este diluată, este înşelată, doar pentru a reveni în forţă, atunci când este momentul ei. Ceva asemănător voinţei de putere, dacă putem folosi această metonimie pentru un proces neurologic se exprimă în locul durerii. Durerea este astfel transgresată, temporar. Cu toate acestea, durerea efectivă (în tortură, de exemplu) are imediatul ei. Nu este necesar să-l citim pe Cioran să actualizăm ramificaţiile culturale ale unei teorii ale durerii – judecata empirică poate să suplinească cunoştinţa durerii, care este universală.

Dear Jon, A real Dear Jon let­ter, how per­fect is that?! Who knew you’d get dumped twice in the same amount of months. See, I’m one para­graph in and I’ve al­ready fucked this. I’m writ­ing this be­cause I can’t say any of this to you face-to-face. I’ve spent the last few months ques­tion­ing a lot of my friend­ships and won­der­ing what their pur­pose is, if not to work through big emo­tional things to­gether. But I now re­al­ize: I don’t want that. And I know you’ve all been there for me in other ways. Maybe not in the lit­eral sense, but I know you all would have done any­thing to fix me other than lis­ten­ing to me talk and al­low­ing me to be sad with­out so­lu­tions. And now I am writ­ing this let­ter rather than pick­ing up the phone and talk­ing to you be­cause, de­spite every thing I know, I just don’t want to, and I don’t think you want me to ei­ther. I lost my mind when Jen broke up with me. I’m pretty sure it’s been the sub­ject of a few of your What­sApp con­ver­sa­tions and more power to you, be­cause I would need to vent about me if I’d been friends with me for the last six months. I don’t want it to have been in vain, and I wanted to tell you what I’ve learnt. If you do a high-fat, high-pro­tein, low-carb diet and join a gym, it will be a good dis­trac­tion for a while and you will lose fat and gain mus­cle, but you will run out of steam and eat nor­mally again and put all the weight back on. So maybe don’t bother. Drunk­en­ness is an­other idea. I was in black­out for most of the first two months and I think that’s fine, it got me through the evenings (and the oc­ca­sional af­ter­noon). You’ll have to do a lot of it on your own, though, be­cause no one is free to meet up any more. I think that’s fine for a bit. It was for me un­til some­one walked past me drink­ing from a whisky minia­ture while I waited for a night bus, put five quid in my hand and told me to keep warm. You’re the only per­son I’ve ever told this story. None of your mates will be ex­cited that you’re sin­gle again. I’m prob­a­bly your only sin­gle mate and even I’m not that ex­cited. Gen­er­ally the ex­pe­ri­ence of be­ing sin­gle at thirty-five will feel dif­fer­ent to any other time you’ve been sin­gle and that’s no bad thing. When your ex moves on, you might be­come ob­sessed with the bloke in a way that is al­most sex­ual. Don’t worry, you don’t want to fuck him, even though it will feel a bit like you do some­times. If you open up to me or one of the other boys, it will feel good in the mo­ment and then you’ll get an emo­tional hang­over the next day. You’ll wish you could take it all back. You may even feel like we’ve en­joyed see­ing you so low. Or that we feel smug be­cause we’re win­ning at some­thing and you’re los­ing. Re­member that none of us feel that. You may be­come ob­sessed with work­ing out why ex­actly she broke up with you and you are likely to go fully, fully nuts in your bid to find a sat­is­fy­ing an­swer. I can save you a lot of time by let­ting you know that you may well never work it out. And even if you did work it out, what’s the pur­pose of it? Soon enough, some girl is go­ing to be crazy about you for some un­de­fin­able rea­son and you’re not go­ing to be in­ter­ested in her for some un­de­fin­able rea­son. It’s all so ran­dom and un­fair – the peo­ple we want to be with don’t want to be with us and the peo­ple who want to be with us are not the peo­ple we want to be with. Re­ally, the thing that’s go­ing to hurt a lot is the fact that some­one doesn’t want to be with you any more. Feel­ing the ab­sence of some­one’s com­pany and the ab­sence of their love are two dif­fer­ent things. I wish I’d known that ear­lier. I wish I’d known that it isn’t any­body’s job to stay in a re­la­tion­ship they don’t want to be in just so some­one else doesn’t feel bad about them­selves. Any­way. That’s all. You’re go­ing to be okay, mate. Andy

Reagan Truman’s cell phone clamored in the darkness. It took several rings to find it. “Hello,” she mumbled, hoping she didn’t wake her uncle in the next room. “Rea, this is Noah.” “It’s late, Noah.” She pulled she string on an old Tiffany-style lamp that was probably five times her age. Something was wrong; not even Noah called this late. “I know, Rea. But I need to talk to you.” She shoved her hair out of her face and tried to force sleep away. “All right, what’s up?” “I’m in the hospital, Rea. I was hurt tonight in Memphis.” “How bad?” she laughed nervously. She’d almost asked if he was still alive. There was a long pause on the line. “I don’t know. Bad. Broken arm, two ribs, but it’s my back that has me worried.” He didn’t speak for a moment. When he began again, he sounded more like a frightened boy than a man of twenty. “I’m hurt bad enough to maybe kick me off the circuit. When I hit the dirt, I was out cold. They said I kept yelling your name in the ambulance, but I don’t remember. All I remember is the pain.” “Noah, what can I do? Do you want me to go over to your folk’s house? I think they’re in town. I could call your sister, Alex.” “No, I don’t want them to worry. I know mom. She’ll freak out and dad will start lecturing me like I’m still a kid. I don’t want them to know anything until I know how serious it is. They’re still not telling me much yet.” He paused, and she knew he was fighting to keep his voice calm. “Rea, I got to face this before I ask them to. If it’s nothing, they don’t even need to know. If it’s crippling, I got to have a plan.” She understood. Noah had always been their positive, sunny child. The McAllens had already lost one son eight years ago. She’d seen the panic in their eyes once when Noah had been admitted to the hospital after an accident. She understood why he’d want to save them pain. “What can I do?” He was silent for a moment, and then he said simply, “Come get me. No matter how bad it is, I want you near when I find out.

there are continually turning up in life moral and rational persons, sages and lovers of human- ity who make it their object to live all their lives as morally and rationally as possible, to be, so to speak, a light to their neighbours simply in order to show them that it is possible to live morally and rationally in this world. And yet we all know that those very people sooner or later have been false to themselves, playing some queer trick, o en a most un- seemly one. Now I ask you: what can be expected of man since he is a being endowed with strange qualities? Show- er upon him every earthly blessing, drown him in a sea of happiness, so that nothing but bubbles of bliss can be seen Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com on the surface; give him economic prosperity, such that he should have nothing else to do but sleep, eat cakes and busy himself with the continuation of his species, and even then out of sheer ingratitude, sheer spite, man would play you some nasty trick. He would even risk his cakes and would deliberately desire the most fatal rubbish, the most uneco- nomical absurdity, simply to introduce into all this positive good sense his fatal fantastic element. It is just his fantastic dreams, his vulgar folly that he will desire to retain, simply in order to prove to himself—as though that were so neces- sary— that men still are men and not the keys of a piano, which the laws of nature threaten to control so completely that soon one will be able to desire nothing but by the cal- endar. And that is not all: even if man really were nothing but a piano-key, even if this were proved to him by natural science and mathematics, even then he would not become reasonable, but would purposely do something perverse out of simple ingratitude, simply to gain his point. And if he does not nd means he will contrive destruction and chaos, will contrive su erings of all sorts, only to gain his point! He will launch a curse upon the world, and as only man can curse (it is his privilege, the primary distinction be- tween him and other animals), may be by his curse alone he will attain his object—that is, convince himself that he is a man and not a piano-key! If you say that all this, too, can be calculated and tabulated—chaos and darkness and curses, so that the mere possibility of calculating it all be- forehand would stop it all, and reason would reassert itself, then man would purposely go mad in order to be rid of rea- 0 Notes from the Underground son and gain his point! I believe in it, I answer for it, for the whole work of man really seems to consist in nothing but proving to himself every minute that he is a man and not a piano-key! It may be at the cost of his skin, it may be by can- nibalism! And this being so, can one help being tempted to rejoice that it has not yet come o , and that desire still de- pends on something we don’t know?

Aga esimeses reas tuleb teil igal juhul istuda - see on autori koht." "Ja mina arvasin, et autoril on suuremad vabadused kui ühelgi teisel!" "Seal - teiselpool eesriiet, jah. Aga mitte siinpool. Siin on publik see, kes valitseb." "Kes ütleb, et ma olen praegu autor? Miks ei võiks see kordki olla ümberpööratult? Ma loobun heameelega oma eesõigusest laval, kui ma selle eest võin saalis ise endale koha valida.

Wait, you are not even surprised that your own uncle, framed you, for an assassination?” “No, I’m surprisingly not surprised.".

I think the whole idea of keeping a weapon with us is gibberish, like, if we don’t have weapon at the first place, nobody’s gonna harm anyone, right? Because, we don’t have the instrument to do it, and we can’t protect themselves from unexpectedly unnecessary payback attack, right?

You’re impossible.” I sighed. “And really weird. No wonder Jared likes you.” “Is that a good thing or not?” I shrugged. “You two have bittersweet panty-dropping connection.” “Gross.

She’s fine. She has a gun.” "She has a gun.” “On her purse.” "You two, bring gun, to a dinner date?” “Society is dangerously wild.” “Again, disturbingly romantic in so many different level.

These eventually become the women you call when everyone is sick at home and you need someone to pick up diapers and dry cleaning,

In genom tunneln av oskrivna regler, framåt till höger, tunnelbana till vänster. Invandrartjejer med hål så man ser rumpskinn pratar högljutt i mobil. Han undrar vad värdfolket tänker. De med lite mera klass som önskar bo på Östermalm men istället hamnar i Solna bär istället svarta kläder med eventuell grå detalj, silverörhängen och aldrig guld. Inte som turkarna. Dyra stora väskor slängda över axeln, senaste modet från årets sista rea. Klack klack klack låter det i väggarna och studsar tillbaka. Rumpor som svänger snabbt genom tunneln, man måste hålla tempot även om man inget har. Storstadsfolket tittar konstigt på en man som går för långsamt. Hemresan närmar sig snabbt men dagen är ännu lång. Mörkret har fallit men sömnen inträder inte än på mycket länge. Det är en välsignelse att vara stressad, tänker han och ser på människorna som skyndar förbi honom. De bildar två väggar på båda sidor av hans kropp. Men människorna runt honom är som av ett annat släkte, han vet det. Han känner det. I cirklar ut med hans kropp tänks tankar som är så långt ifrån hans verklighet trots att de trampar samma mark, sitter på samma säten, går i samma trappor. Timmarna rusar och ögonen flackar. Det tänks andra tankar, annorlunda tankar, runt i en massa av virvlande ord. Andra ord, annorlunda ord och satser och fraser och uttryck, pulserande i cirklar runt hans runda kropp: Köra en lunchsandwich med surdegsbröd på vägen och småspringa med svettpärlor i pannan i pannan till tuben. Torka svett och titta oroligt på sin smartphone. Ta ett telefonsamtal i väntan på grön gubbe, en latte i handen efter en snabblunch med en gammal kursare. Catcha upp, hänga ut, ta en öl en fika en promenad mellan 17:15 och 18:30, dra till SATS på ett pass och sen dimpa ner i tevesoffan jävligt nöjd. Storstadsslammer och stadsbor, den nya människan ställer sig i ledet. Bo i trång etta, gå på dejt med blonderad ekonom, raka pung, noppa unibrow och scrubba med facewashen. Ta en öl på uteserveringen under sommarmånader. Springa till bussen, ta väskan på cykeln och kavla upp byxbenet. Slänga yogamattan över axeln och svära över tågens försening. Traska rastlöst fram och tillbaka över perrongen, trampa sig svettig på cykeln för att man snoozat för länge. Stressen, tänker han där han svänger av mot spärrarna, det är Guds gåva till människan. (Sid. 165-6)

Nimic nu îngrădeşte mai rău decât conştiinţa că trebuie să lucrezi împotriva naturii tale. Bună sau rea, decizia trebuie să-i aparţină inimii, pentru că aceasta pulsează viaţa în tine şi răzbunarea ei va fi cruntă împotriva celui care nu o ascultă.