Roaming Freely Quotes

She had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness... Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods... The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers—stern and wild ones—and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.

whether they'll write the story of my life as a tragedy or an epic fantasy... I was wondering if it was going to be a kiss at the end, or sad music and a sweeping camera shot over the fields I once roamed freely. I'm hoping for the kiss, but expecting the sweeping camera shot.

You expect me to believe that you're being held against your will?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You're roaming around the castle freely." "As are you." He turned away from me then. "Not all prisons have bars. You should know that better than anyone, Princess.

The true beginning was in the before times, when monsters roamed freely outside the veil that now separates them from mortals, and demons sometimes fell in love.

Empty space eventually fills up with something. A void, cultivated in the aftermath of misfortune, begins to attract the wrong kind of attention. Marco knew it was time to leave when disagreeable spirits started roaming freely through the house, as if they owned the place.

Time has no meaning in the wyldwood. Day and night don't really exist here, just light and darkness, and they can be as fickle and moody as everything else. A "night" can pass in the space of a blink, or go on forever. Light and darkness will chase each other through the sky, play hide-and-seek or tag or catch-me-if-you-can. Sometimes, one or the other will become offended...and refuse to come out for an indefinite amount of time. Once, light became so angry, a hundred years passed in the mortal realm before it deigned to come out again. And though the sun continued to rise and set in the human world, it was a rather turbulent period for the world of men, as all the creatures who lurked in darkness and shadow got to roam freely under the lightless Nevernever skies.

Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods.

Pretty didn't do it justice. I felt like we'd sailed into a world meant for much larger beings, a place where gods and monsters roamed freely.

Everything would work out and she wouldn’t have to tell Dane that the box full of ancient ivory penises was roaming freely about Kirkall Hall.

Women are like convertibles: They should be topless. Also, they should stay in the garage. I mean kitchen. No, I mean bedroom. Damnit, I guess they can roam freely about the house.

From that which came within itself, it built its table on my shelf, then, roaming freely, out of sight, it must have found my bed last night.

It is better to go near the truth and be imprisoned than to stay with the wrong and roam about freely, master Galilei. In fact, getting attached to falsity is terrible slavery, and real freedom is only next to the right.

If we think of our body as a building, we can choose to treat it like a haunted house with unknown aspects of ourselves roaming around freely and creating chaos, or we can treat it as a divine temple, honoring and having a personal relationship with the aspects of ourselves that dwell there.

none of us are safe once hate is allowed to roam freely under the guise of faith.

Today alpha equals 1/137.0359 or so. Regardless, its value makes the periodic table possible. It allows atoms to exist and also allows them to react with sufficient vigor to form compounds, since electrons neither roam too freely from their nuclei nor cling too closely. This just-right balance has led many scientists to conclude that the universe couldn’t have hit upon its fine structure constant by accident.

You must allow your free-will to roam as freely as you want and delve deep into your dreams. Never limit yourself nor live according to the appetite of someone else.

It’s disturbing to me that criminals are freely roaming the streets of our nation’s capital. I’m not talking about escaped prison inmates—I’m talking about politicians.

Humans have the ability to rewrite history. Within a few decades it is not even questioned. Stories of the past become as real as the world you walk through today. Wars are waged over false history. Sins are denied. All for mankind to move forward and feel comfortable about its past. Your true history is written in the stars. Look up, breathe in, and be humbled by the ones who came before you. The ones who have suffered, who have endured, who have overcome. Their blood is alive in you. Their spirits roam freely in the heavens above.

Hence the vogue for double majors. It isn’t enough anymore to take a bunch of electives in addition to your primary focus, to roam freely across the academic fields, making serendipitous connections and discoveries, the way that American higher education was designed (uniquely, among the world’s systems) to allow you to do.

It isn’t enough anymore to take a bunch of electives in addition to your primary focus, to roam freely across the academic fields, making serendipitous connections and discoveries, the way that American higher education was designed (uniquely, among the world’s systems) to allow you to do. You have to get that extra certification now, or what has it all been for?

Once, at the dreaming dawn of history -- before the world was categorized and regulated by mortal minds, before solid boundaries formed between the mortal world and any other -- fairies roamed freely among men, and the two races knew each other well. Yet the knowing was never straightforward, and the adventures that mortals and fairies had together were fraught with uncertainty, for fairies and humans were alien to each other.

Very often, the truly significant news is trapped inside our own mind – but the crush of news from without hampers our ability to pick up on our own tentative thoughts and emerging ideas. The news gives us one of the most prestigious excuses ever invented to never spend time roaming freely inside our own thoughts. Of course, the news that is broadcast to us will be important to someone, somewhere – but most of the time it is wholly disconnected from our own real priorities over the coming years, which are to make the most of our life and our talents in the time that remains to us.

We all played cricket on the street or rooftops together, but I knew as we got older the girls would be expected to stay inside. We’d be expected to cook and serve our brothers and fathers. While boys and men could roam freely about town, my mother and I could not go out without a male relative to accompany us, even if it was a five-year-old boy! This was the tradition.

My soul, you would never mourn a bird that was released from its cage and now roams freely in the heavens. So, too, should you contain your mourning for your beloved one now that he is free.

He felt trapped here on base, while she could freely roam the night. In some ways, it had been better to have her locked up in the Capitol, where he always had a general idea of what she was doing.

Look, this island is an attempt to re-create a natural environment from the past. To make an isolated world where extinct creatures roam freely. Correct?” “Yes.” “But from my point of view, such an undertaking is impossible. The mathematics are so self-evident that they don’t need to be calculated. It’s rather like my asking you whether, on a billion dollars in income, you had to pay tax. You wouldn’t need to pull out your calculator to check. You’d know tax was owed. And, similarly, I know overwhelmingly that one cannot successfully duplicate nature in this way, or hope to isolate it.

She set down her empty beer bottle on the coffee table. “If I’m going to stay here for any length of time, I have to be allowed to roam freely.” “She wants to be a free-range human, prince,” Tucker translated.

Got something to say, Deacon?” I coax, knowing a witty response is on the tip of his tongue. There’s nothing but blatant lust in his eyes as they freely roam up and down my body. “I had no idea dick was so much fun.

It is conventional wisdom now that anything built by the government will be a disaster. But the two "Voyager" spacecraft were built by the government (in partnership with that other bugaboo, academia). They came in at cost, on time, and vastly exceeded their design specifications--as well as the fondest dreams of their makers. Seeking not to control, threaten, wound, or destroy, these elegant machines represented the exploratory part of our nature set free to roam the Solar System and beyond. This kind of technology, the treasures it uncovers freely available to all humans everywhere, has been, over the last few decades, one of the few activities of the United States admired as much by those who abhor many of its policies as by those who agree with it on every issue. "Voyager" cost each American less than a penny a year from launch to Neptune encounter. Missions to the planets are one of those things--and I mean this not just for the United States, but for the human species--that we do best.

The Western democrat and the Moscow democrat are possessed of two entirely different mindsets. The mind of the Western democrat roams freely among the problems of the contemporary world, reflects upon how to live well and happily, how modern technology might serve man better, and how to ensure that each one of us produces more and more material goods and attains greater and greater spiritual well-being. Yet these are all matters beyond the Moscow democrat’s field of vision. Only one thing interests him: how to defeat communism. On this subject he can discourse with energy and passion for hours, concoct schemes, present proposals and plans, unaware that as he does so he becomes for a second time communism’s victim: the first time he was a victim by force, imprisoned by the system, and now he has become a victim voluntarily, for he has allowed himself to be imprisoned in the web of communism’s problems. For such is the demonic nature of great evil—that without our knowledge and consent, it manages to blind us and force us into its straitjacket.

My grandpa lived in the First District area of Dixie County, FL. Near where State Road 349 and County Road 351 meet. I spent a lot of time there as a kid. Roaming over unplanted fields. Tossing maypops against the side of a sun-bleached barn. Chickens roamed freely over his land. Mornings began with a hunt to find eggs for breakfast. Every day was Easter back then. With sand and snakes.

Theory has all too often been a zoo in which we cage the wild beasts of violence that inhabit our worlds. We then gaze at these beasts from a safe distance, we contemplate them, we theorize how they would act in their own environments - and we never go to those environments where the beasts roam freely to actually check our theories. To do so would be disastrous. It would point out the absurdity of our analyses and the illusion of safety so carefully crafted.

May be the power lies in the hands of the one who holds the gun... so he just presses the trigger whenever the slightest streak of anger passes his mind... and after a few haunting days he roams freely in the country without fear .. and what about the one who faces the wrath and bears the bullets? He leaves a movement behind... but haven't such movements always been ephemeral? Is death the price you need to pay to open the eyes of those who care but just for a couple of days?

Back in the time before Columbus, there were only Indians here, no skyscrapers, no automobiles, no streets. Of course, we didn't use the words Indian or Native American then; we were just people. We didn't know we were supposedly drunks or lazy or savages. I wondered what it was like to live without that weight on your shoulders, the weight of the murdered ancestors, the stolen land, the abused children, the burden every Native person carries. We were told in movies and books that Indians had a sacred relationship with the land, that we worshipped and nurtured it. But staring at Nathan, I didn't feel any mystical bond with the rez. I hated our shitty unpaved roads and our falling-down houses and the snarling packs of dogs that roamed freely in the streets and alleys. But most of all, I hated that kids like Nathan - good kids, decent kids - got involved with drugs and crime and gangs, because there was nothing for them to do here. No after-school jobs, no clubs, no tennis lessons. Every month in the Lakota Times newspaper there was an obituary for another teen suicide, another family in the Burned Thigh Nation who'd had their heart taken away from them. In the old days, the eyapaha was the town crier, the person who would meet incoming warriors after a battle, ask them what happened so they wouldn't have to speak of their own glories, then tell the people the news. Now the eyapaha, our local newspaper, announced losses and harms too often, victories and triumphs too rarely.

Man in the midst of his world resembles a fire that flickers relentlessly, inflames us with apparent unpredictability, burns, and dies. Should we blind ourselves to these dangers? Isn't it preferable to die of ever-gnawing pain than to roam the world freely and easily, but falsely? Is there no consolation? Love is the only consolation, because love requires no proof. It exists like God himself, whose existence could doubtless be proved but was sensed by mankind long before any evidence could be produced.

As a kid, Sloane was fascinated by trains. He loved them, was absolutely entranced by them. He always envisioned them as gigantic steel dragons, albeit land ridden ones who were spellbound by the tracks they rode on, consigned to remain flightless and locked in thrall by the steel they slithered along. They transported people from place to place, but they weren’t allowed to freely roam, they were cursed to remain on the same route eternally, back and forth, their steel wings clipped.-Training the Unfortunate

I'm not going to be a part of this war you think is coming. You say I should be a weapon, not a pawn- they seem like the same to me. The only difference is who's wielding it.' 'I want your help, not to manipulate you,' he snapped. His flare of tempter made me at last lift my head. 'You want my help because it'll piss off Tamlin.' Shadows danced around his shoulders- as if the wings were trying to take form. 'Fine,' he breathed. 'I dug that grave myself, with all I did Under the Mountain. But I need your help. Again, I could feel the other unspoken words. Ask me why; push me about it. And again, I didn't want to. Didn't have the energy to. Rhys said quietly, 'I was a prisoner to her court for nearly fifty years. I was tortured and beaten and fucked until only telling myself who I was, what I had to protect, kept me from trying to find a way to end it. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.' Some distant part of my heart ached and bled at the words, at what he'd laid bare. But Tamlin had made exceptions- he'd lightened the guards' presence, allowed me to roam a bit more freely. He was trying. We were trying. I wouldn't jeopardize that. So I went back to eating. Rhys didn't say another word.

It is the phenomenon made known by the marine biologist Daniel Pauly as the shifting-baseline syndrome. The world as first seen by the child becomes his lifelong standard of excellence, mindless of the fact he is admiring the ruins of his parents. Generation to generation, the natural world decays, the ratchet of perception tightens. Gradually, imperceptibly, big sharks give way to small sharks, small sharks to baitfish, baitfish to jellyfish to slime. On land, the big cats and wolves become feral house cats and coyotes. The wild standard sinks ever lower and becomes ever heavier to raise. Few notice, few care. Eventually, nobody remembers that wolves not long ago freely roamed the Adirondacks, and hence there is mad howling over the suggestion of returning them to their homeland. Southern Californians panic on learning that a cougar track has been discovered on the fringes of their gated neighborhood - mindless that cougars roamed these hills and canyons long before gated communities drew their lines in the chaparral.

Notable Things Happen In Our Lives When We Don't Allow Fear Roam Freely In Our Situations!

If we don't save the public schools, we're not going to save very much else." I use this line all the time. It's the thesis of my new book Saving K-12. The professors up at Harvard have been dumbing down our school system for a long time. It's like a society that has adopted a very unhealthy diet. Maybe you don't see the effects the first five or 10 years. At some point, however, everybody starts to look pale and weak. That's what's happening to us academically. What's the best way to fight back? Read Saving K-12 to understand the gimmicks that roam freely throughout our classrooms. When you understand them, you can defeat them.

But for now, you are only mine," she said a bit more fiercely than she had intended. "And I am not ready to share you with them all just yet." His low laugh, which had been coming more easily lately, rolled freely from his throat as he brought her back into his arms. "Yet, you force meto share you," he stated. "You realize that once we are married, I will be able to take you away on a grand honeymoon. It will be just the two of us. Not only for the darkest hours of the night," he murmured suggestively as his hands began to roam up and down the length of her back, inciting delicious shivers. He lowered his head beside hers to tease the sensitive skin of her neck with his lips and breath. "But all day, as well. Through sunrise, midday, and dusk. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner." Lily sighed, melting into him. Her hands reached around to grasp his buttocks, and she pressed her lips to his bare shoulder before asking, "Can we take all of our meals to bed?" His laughter was deep, rolling, and infectious as he stepped away. "I had better get you home, or I shall make another meal of you.

It's the only forest around here with caves, and I'm pretty sure the Nightbeast is currently hibernating. Otherwise, it would be roaming around freely and eating witches." Valley smirked.

Everything smelled of dust trapped in light, cracked leather and wayward dreams. Breathing in and out through her nose, Tella looked down at the Map of All. It had transformed once they'd entered the library. It now revealed an entire kingdom made of books that could either have been a book lover's nightmare or their wish come true. There was a Broken Spine Castle, an Unread River, a Ravine of Ripped Pages, a Poetry Valley, a set of Novel Mountains, and then finally, the Ruscica and Books for Advanced Imaginations. The most direct route to this room was through an area referred to as The Zoo. Tella wondered if it would have books in cages, but The Zoo didn't even have bookshelves. The books all roamed freely in this room as they clung together to take the shapes of different animals. Tella spied bookish rhinos, paper-mache elephants and very tall giraffes that milled about in an oddly peaceful silence. The elephant sniffed at Tella with its leathery-grey trunk of books, while a paper bunny made of loose pages noiselessly hopped after Legend. The bunny continued to follow as they left The Zoo and reached The Reading Chamber, where books formed couches and chairs and one massive throne.

Less science-curious adults were like hedgehogs: they became more resistant to contrary evidence and more politically polarized as they gained subject matter knowledge. Those who were high in science curiosity bucked that trend. Their foxy hunt for information was like a literal fox’s hunt for prey: roam freely, listen carefully, and consume omnivorously. Just as Tetlock says of the best forecasters, it is not what they think, but how they think. The best forecasters are high in active open-mindedness. They are also extremely curious, and don’t merely consider contrary ideas, they proactively cross disciplines looking for them. “Depth can be inadequate without breadth,” wrote Jonathan Baron, the psychologist who developed measurements of active open-mindedness.

Truth be told, nobles were essentially just pirates at heart. The ones who had better manners and properly managed home planets were nobles, and the ones who roamed about freely and did as they pleased were pirates, but they were the same beast at the core. They both wielded their might to steal from others in order to prosper—one group just called it taxes.

The European Union is the biggest fraud in world history; it was created to capture all European land and resources by four power-hungry countries: the UK, Germany, France, and Italy. Small European Countries People are just happy that they can roam freely in Paris, Venice, and Berlin, but they have no idea how their governments are paying for this by mortgaging their sovereignty. They are not free nations but a modern-era colony of four power-hungry nations.

As Lewis later recalled, wherever he looked in this new house, he saw stacks, piles, and shelves of books.[25] On many rainy days, he found solace and company in reading these works and roaming freely across imagined literary landscapes. The books so liberally scattered throughout the “New House” included works of romance and mythology, which opened the windows of Lewis’s young imagination. The physical landscape of County Down was seen through a literary lens, becoming a gateway to distant realms. Warren Lewis later reflected on the imaginative stimulus offered to him and his brother by wet weather and a sense of longing for something more satisfying.[26] Might his brother’s imaginative wanderings have been prompted by his childhood “staring out to unattainable hills,” seen through rain and under grey skies?

And so my spirit roams beyond the heart’s restraints. My mind casts off on the swollen sea, eddies freely in the whale’s wake, spins to the edges of the earth, then returns to me, restless and ravenous. Again, the lonely flier cries, prompting my powerless heart back to the way of the whale, onto the sweep of the sea.

Meditation simply means letting the body be inactive while allowing the spirit, or the "I", to roam freely.

The farmer could have a mean streak or mommy issues. A pet boa constrictor roaming freely about his house. Perhaps he chats about agriculture with a mannequin propped up in his kitchen.

Uniqueness and creativity should never be caged because it can't be. It will forever roam freely.

The name of the zoo was the Queensland Reptile and Fauna Park. As I crossed the parking area, I prepared myself for disappointment. I am going to see a collection of snakes, lizards, and miserable creatures in jars, feel terribly sorry for them, and leave. It was October 1991. I was Terri Raines, a twenty-seven-year-old Oregon girl in Australia on an unlikely quest to find homes for rescued American cougars. A reptile park wasn’t going to be interested in a big cat. I headed through the pleasant spring heat toward the park thinking pessimistic thoughts. This is going to be a big waste of time. But the prospect of seeing new species of wildlife drew me in. I walked through the modest entrance with some friends, only to be shocked at what I found on the other side: the most beautiful, immaculately kept gardens I had ever encountered. Peacocks strutted around, kangaroos and wallabies roamed freely, and palm trees lined all the walkways. It was like a little piece of Eden.

Let logic rule the outer world, and for the inner world let the impossible roam freely

Desire should be allowed to roam freely. The range is endless .

A newcomer to a city should first look for a suitable room for resting at night. After securing the room and keeping the luggage there, he or she may go out for sightseeing. Otherwise it'll be a lot of suffering to find a place to rest in the darkness of the night. Similarly, upon securing the eternal resting place in Self, one can freely roam around doing his or her daily works.

The Ballad of the Lone Cowboy In the heart of the prairie, where the wildflowers bloom, Lived a cowboy named James, with his guitar and tunes. He’d sit by the fire, under stars shining bright, And pen down his thoughts, every day and each night. His page was a canvas, where his stories took flight, “Cowboy’s-just for fun,” in the soft moonlight. With quotes that inspired, and tales that spun, He shared his heart freely, just for fun. One day he wrote of a boy, so young and so brave, Whose mother fought battles, no more could she save. Through the eyes of the child, the world seemed so vast, But James’ tender words, held the readers fast. The cowboy’s creations, like his spirit, roamed free, From grand tales of adventure, to sweet family glee. Each post was a window, to a life rich and full, Of laughter and sorrow, of push and of pull. So here’s to the cowboy, with his hat and his grin, Whose stories keep dancing, on the winds that spin. For in every line, and each word that’s penned, Lies the essence of life, from start to end. I hope this story captures the essence of the “Cowboy’s-just for fun” page and resonates with the themes you enjoy. And if you like this page, please share it with your friends. I hope you enjoy this story and feel inspired to share it with others

The Ballad of the Lone Cowboy In the heart of the prairie, where the wildflowers bloom, Lived a cowboy named James, with his guitar and tunes. He’d sit by the fire, under stars shining bright, And pen down his thoughts, every day and each night. His page was a canvas, where his stories took flight, “Cowboy’s-just for fun,” in the soft moonlight. With quotes that inspired, and tales that spun, He shared his heart freely, just for fun. One day he wrote of a boy, so young and so brave, Whose mother fought battles, no more could she save. Through the eyes of the child, the world seemed so vast, But James’ tender words, held the readers fast. The cowboy’s creations, like his spirit, roamed free, From grand tales of adventure, to sweet family glee. Each post was a window, to a life rich and full, Of laughter and sorrow, of push and of pull. So here’s to the cowboy, with his hat and his grin, Whose stories keep dancing, on the winds that spin. For in every line, and each word that’s penned, Lies the essence of life, from start to end. I hope this story captures the essence of the “Cowboy’s-just for fun” page and resonates with the themes you enjoy. If you have any specific elements or ideas you’d like to include, feel free to let me know, and I can incorporate them into the story.

We tend to think of pragmatism and literalism as the main enemies of imagination, but another challenge is the moral antagonism that sees fantasy, dream, and image as contrary to values of work and truth or that wants to judge images as good and appropriate. Imagination doesn’t need new ideas and cleverness nearly as much as it needs freedom from persecution. If there is any cruelty inherent in the work of the artist, it is the effort needed to keep imagination unfettered. Civilization hesitates to allow imagination to roam freely.

The New Forest was famous for the thousands of ponies that were allowed to roam freely,

Eden by Maisie Aletha Smikle In the garden Eden Streams of tranquility glide Flowers magnificently bloom Adam, Eve and animals freely roam Springs sprout Waterfalls emerge Angels smile Earth and Heaven were once in sync Absent was the sting of sin There were no frost To bite the grass Causing trees to freeze There were no fierce heat To kindle a blaze There were no winds That were unkind There were no raindrops That weren't welcome All were in perfect peace All were in harmony so sweet The garden Eden Was the home of the people Handmade by the Father Precious were they Adam and Eve God's first human masterpieces They were loved God gave them a home And grew for them a lovely garden God gave them pets of all species He gave them glorious healing spas and herbs God gave them fruits and food of every kind Everything Adam and Eve had to their hearts desire An envious snake Probably a BOA Saw joy peace love and happiness And hated joy peace love and happiness BOA vowed to destroy love peace joy and happiness BOA wanted to create distrust and enmity instead BOA conspired against love peace joy and happiness And conspired to have Adam and Eve thrown out of their home BOA snatched love joy peace and happiness BOA caused the first family Adam and Eve To be thrown out of their home naked A home that was God's unencumbered gift BOA was happy when happiness left When joy love and peace took flight and went And distrust and enmity remain Where BOA can hiss and strike it's venom of loathe Until people are down Naked and have no home BOA is truly a disgrace Indeed BOA is a scrooge

What this means is that the highest goal of spiritual immortality can only be reached through the living vehicle of the human body and its powerful vitality. But once the adept has arrived at this goal, he may only realize the ultimate truth by abandoning the body for his spiritual 'flight into space'. A good analogy here is a chicken embryo growing inside its eggshell. If the shell breaks before incubation is complete, there is no life; similarly, if an adept's body 'breaks' and dies before he has completed 'incubation' of his spirit-body, he loses his chance of spiritual immortality after death. When the inner embryo in a chicken egg is fully developed, however, it must crack open the shell and discard it in order to live. Similarly, once the adept has fully developed his spirit-body, he must abandon the flesh sooner or later in order to let his spirit roam freely in the cosmos. This exit occurs through an actual crack that develops in the suture on the crown of the skull in such adepts. Only newborn babies and the most advanced adepts have such loose sutures in their skulls. p393

Awolf may roam freely here.  He is mac tire, son of the land.  But such freedom could be coming to an end.

Whipple reported seeing as many as six hundred Indians in a single day in his camp. Few spoke Spanish; most communicated with the whites using hand gestures. Whipple noticed “several sad-looking fellows in the crowd” who were slaves taken in an expedition against the Cocopas, but he saw no white girls, and more significantly, was never approached by the Oatmans, who either remained in their village above the campgrounds or socialized with the others, passing as Mohaves. 15 Either scenario is telling. If they were hidden from the Whipple party, this omission from Olive’s biography is glaringly conspicuous: it was not just her first opportunity for escape during her captivity but also one of the more dramatic events of her Mohave life. And if she wasn’t hidden, she was in a situation where she roamed freely with Mohaves of all ages, but never sought help from any of the hundred-odd whites in the area. Three years into their captivity, with no knowledge that their brother had survived the Oatman massacre, seventeen-year-old Olive and twelve-year-old Mary Ann had crossed the threshold of assimilation.

Daily Law: Instead of using this remarkable instrument as a means to get attention or to vent your rage and display your superiority, see the internet in this different light—an invitation to a fascinating journey inside a global brain and the surprises it can bring you by roaming freely in this vast space and making surprising connections.

But Tamlin had made exceptions—he’d lightened the guards’ presence, allowed me to roam a bit more freely. He was trying. We were trying. I wouldn’t jeopardize that.

Jack leads us down a tree-lined path with enclosures on either side. Part of what makes Monkey Village special is that most of the property is used for the animals, with the humans funneled through caged corridors. At the very least, it gives the illusion that the animals can roam freely.

I suppose one reason for the sheer amount of parenting advice available today is because how we raise children has changed from when we lived in small hunter-gatherer groups. People in these smaller groups would get to know the child, protecting it and at times offering comfort. This is commonly referred to as 'alloparenting', a phenomenon where the care of children is given by individuals other than the parents, which is usually but not always close relatives. In these communities the relatives and other group members were present 24/7 to help with child-rearing. Children were able to roam freely and could seek contact, comfort and play from whoever they chose. This is still the case in hunter-gatherer groups today.

No matter how placid and tame these huge wolves appeared to be, they were still wild animals. She was determined that they would not be allowed to roam freely on the property, especially since the family was preparing to move their extremely expensive herd of registered animals onto the grass fields within a few more weeks.

I often arrived at the warehouse in the mornings with a mixture of relief that I still had a job and disappointment that the place had not been somehow swept away during the night, or hoping that the managers, knowing that their time was up, had deserted their posts like guards leaving a camp, so at last we could roam the aisles and offices freely without fear of reprimand until an executive somewhere remembered to phone a temp and order her to press a button and delete us all.

Texas is heaven for men and dogs, but hell for women and oxen. Men and dogs were able, within limits, to roam freely; women and oxen were obliged, within reason, to live under the yoke.

suspect that there’s an even-deeper logic to the connection between emotion and verticality. Our spinning earth hugs us toward it so constantly and pervasively that we rarely think about it, yet that embrace gives rise to the most significant force in our world: gravity. Every movement we make is constrained by gravity’s irresistible pull. Though we roam freely in the horizontal plane, without technology we’re unable to rise above the ground.

One last thing,” Mikhail was gone almost before she could blink, and returned nearly as fast. He took her left hand in his. “Your people will recognize this as a clear sign that you are taken.” She hid her smile. He was so territorial, like a wild animal staking his claim. Like the wolves roaming so freely in his forest. She touched the ring with a reverent finger. It was antique, gold, a fiery ruby surrounded by diamonds. “Mikhail, this is beautiful. Where did you find such a thing?” “It has been in my family for generations. If you prefer something else…something more modern--” It looked as if it belonged on her finger. “It’s perfect, and you know it.” She touched it reverently. “I love it. Go, but hurry back. I’ll find out all your secrets while you’re gone.” Mikhail was hungry, needed to feed. He bent to brush her forehead with his mouth, his heart aching. “Just for one day, little one, I would like to have a normal, happy conversation with you. Court you as I should.” She tilted her head to look at him, her blue eyes dark with emotion. “You court me just fine. Go eat now and leave me be.” Mikhail touched her hair just once before he left.

When we camped in the field, we had a regular routine. First, we’d work out: I had my weight plates and bars and exercise bench all stowed in compartments on top of the tank, where tools were usually kept. Three, four, or five other guys from the platoon would join me, and we’d exercise for an hour and a half before getting something to eat. Some nights the drivers had to stay with their tanks while the other guys went to the sleeping tent. We’d bed down by digging a shallow hole, putting down a blanket, and parking the tank overhead. The idea was to protect ourselves from wild boars. We were not allowed to kill them, and they roamed freely in the training area because I think they knew that. We also posted sentries who would stand on top of the tanks so the boars couldn’t get at them. One night we were camped near a stream, and I woke up with a start because I thought I heard the boars. Then I realized there was nothing on top of me. My tank was gone! I looked around and found it twenty or thirty feet away, sticking tail-up in the water. The nose was submerged, and the cannon was stuck down into the mud. I’d forgotten to apply the big brake, it turned out, and the ground was sloped just enough that the tank had slowly rolled away as we slept. I tried to get it out, but the treads just spun in the mud. We had to bring in an eighty-ton towing unit, and it took hours to pull out my tank. Then we had to get it to the repair depot. The turret had to be taken off. The cannon had to be sent out to be specially cleaned. I had to sit in confinement for twenty-four hours for that one.

And what if they come after your kind next? I mean, none of us are safe once hate is allowed to roam freely under the guise of faith.

immediately forthcoming. Sheridan did all he could to meet the treaty obligations. "An abundant supply of rations is usually effective to keep matters quiet in such cases," he wrote in his Memoirs, "so I fed them pretty freely." The Indians had food in any case, for the buffalo still roamed the plains, despite the herds killed by Cody and other professional hunters. The Indians themselves were responsible for some of the slaughter inflicted on the buffalo. On occasion they would stampede a herd over a cliff, to pile up in heaps of meat. A German visitor to the plains in 1853, Baron Mollhausen, described the typical Indian buffalo hunt: "The buffalo has many enemies, but the most dangerous is still the Indian who has all manner of wily tricks. Buffalo hunting for the Indian is a necessity; but it is also his favorite pastime. Life holds no higher pleasure than to mount one of the handy, patient little ponies ... and gallop into a herd dealing death and destruction. Everything which might interfere with the movements of man or horse is flung away. Clothing and saddle are cast aside; all the rider retains is a big leather strap ... which is fastened around the pony's neck and allowed to trail behind. This trailrope acts as a bridle, and as a life-line too, for recapturing the horse should its rider be dismounted. In his left hand the hunter carries his bow and as many arrows as he can hold; in his right a whip with which he belabors his beast without pity. Indian ponies are trained to gallop close alongside the buffalo, providing an easy shot; the instant the bow twangs the pony instinctively dodges to escape the buffalo's horns, and approaches another victim. Thus the hunt continues until his pony's exhaustion warns the hunter to desist." Buffalo Bill often followed the Indian's hunting tactics closely, riding in near his target, bareback and with only a bridle to control his mount. Originally the several species of bison ranged from the Great Slave Lake in Canada to the Chihuahua in Mexico; they were also found in northern Nevada and eastern Oregon. Sometimes in pre-Columbian days they wandered into the grasslands of Kentucky, Tennessee, and even as far east as Ohio. A few may even have migrated as far as the shores of Lake

clear that the Bell Curve controversy will never be fought on the basis of the facts. These are too uncomfortable to be allowed to roam freely in the intellectual air. And

Joudy, it turns out, is also the name of an ancient entity in Sumerian mythology. (This dates back to at least 3000 B.C.) The name was used to describe a species of wandering demon—also generically known as an utukku—that had ‘escaped from the underworld’ and roamed freely throughout the earth, where they feasted on human flesh and, ripped the souls from their victims, which provided even more meaningful nourishment. They particularly thrived while feeding—and I quote—’on human suffering.’ These beings were said to appear in both male and female forms—’Joudy’ indicated the female, and the male was known as ‘Ba’al’—and, while they were considered beyond dangerous individually, if a male and a female ever united while on earth, the ancient texts claimed, their resulting ‘marriage’ would create something far more perilous. As in: the end of the world as we know it. A few centuries later, Ba’al becomes better known, in both Christian and Islamic sources, as ‘Beelzebub,’ a false god, or, as he’s known more generically today, the devil.

Sad Savages by Maisie Aletha Smikle Savages make selfish deals They claim what they steal Pay a penny for steel And feast at every meal The more they have The more they brag They slaughtered the hogs And took their sheltered sty Let the hogs live in the sky My oh my For indeed it is hog heaven We have plundered till the clock struck eleven Celebrate we must on the eleventh of the eleven Every year till half past seven For we have chased elephants from their habitat Where they once freely roam is now our home Savages fortify barricades and borders Wishing the world would stop turning and refrain from gathering Afraid that what goes around Will some day rotate back around to them Savages spy from the steeple Looking lurking and listening always suspecting For they have observed To expect what they served Never at ease are the savages Always jumpy anticipating the worst for others And the best for themselves Pointing always away from themselves

In our brain there is a sophisticated dual-mechanism - formed by networks of neurons - that helps us to protect ourselves from excessive attention and information. We have two distinct modes of attention: the task-positive network (TPN) and the task-negative network (TNN). When one is on, the other is off. TPN is a network in the brain responsible for concentration, that is activated when we are engaged in activities that require attention without distraction. The network is activated when our brain is highly engaged in a task. TNN is active during involuntary actions or when we daydream and our thoughts roam freely.

The court cases and acts of legislation that enshrined Jim Crow as the law of the land did not unfold in a vacuum. The larger context for them was the ideology of white supremacy, the set of beliefs and attitudes about the nature of black people that arose to justify their unprecedented economic exploitation in the transatlantic slave trade. Following the Civil War, this ideology evolved in order to maintain the country’s racial hierarchy in the face of emancipation and black citizenship. Anything but unmoored or isolated, white power was reinforced in this new era by the nation’s cultural, economic, educational, legal, and violently extralegal systems, including lynching. Among its root and branches were the paired mythology of white women’s rape and black men’s brutality, the convict-lease system, disenfranchisement, and the choking off of access to capital and property ownership. In many ways, this ideology still roams freely in our country today.

One last thing,” Mikhail was gone almost before she could blink, and returned nearly as fast. He took her left hand in his. “Your people will recognize this as a clear sign that you are taken.” She hid her smile. He was so territorial, like a wild animal staking his claim. Like the wolves roaming so freely in his forest.

I found myself inspecting the scenery for signs and clues, for something that might explain the wrenching nature of my dream. I was aware that wolves had once roamed freely through these mountains and valleys, until they were deemed a menace and stamped out. I was aware, too, of the animal’s tentative reintroduction to the landscape—small, carefully bred packs released into closely monitored pockets of wilderness to slowly reinhabit a terrain that had once been their own.

… sarha. In its original verbform, sarha meant ‘to let the cattle out to graze freely’. It was subsequently humanized to suggest the action of a walker who went roaming without constraint or fixed plan. One might think the English equivalent to be a ‘stroll’, an ‘amble’ or a ‘ramble’, but these words don’t quite catch the implications of escape, delight and improvisation that are carried by sarha. ‘Wander’ comes close, with its word-shadow of ‘wonder’, as does the Scots word ‘stravaig’, meaning to ramble without set goals or destination, but best of all perhaps is ‘saunter’, from the French sans terre, which is a contraction of à la sainte terre, meaning ‘to the sacred place’; i.e. ‘a walking pilgramage’. Saunter and sarha both have surface connotations of aimlessness, and smuggled connotations of the spiritual. 212

I empty my mind. And do something else that is not related to what I am writing about. Sometimes I take long walks, and focus on being in the present. As I walk, I take note of the rise and fall of the land, the diverse faces of people, the roaming animals, and the sounds coming from cars and motorcycles. Most times when I do this ideas flow to me freely, clearing my imaginative inhibitors.

The creation of Disneyland opened up an entire “world” for Disney to make actual and physical the lessons that he and the studio were promoting on television and in films—a space that was highly controlled but gave visitors the illusion of freely roaming and exploring.

The fourth and the last period is called “Kali yuga” where wickedness, cheating, and immoral activities will be at its peak. The purest of men and women will be severely tested and face huge obstacles while wicked people will roam freely.

While boys and men could roam freely about town, my mother and I could not go out without a male relative to accompany us, even if it was a five-year-old boy! This was the tradition.

Gehinom, or Gehenna, passed into use as a metaphoric designation for the place of punishment in the hereafter. According to a Talmudic view, the doors of Gehenna close behind apostates, informers, promoters of sin, and tyrants for many generations. According to the mystical holy book, the Zohar, sinners are punished for twelve months, half of the time in fire and half in snow. Among those who do not face Gehenna, a Talmudic passage includes the very poor and diseased. Despite the many differences of opinion as to the meaning of Gehenna, it is nowhere considered to be a dogma or a doctrine of faith that Jews are required to profess. Even those rabbinic sages who delighted in describing the torments of Gehenna and other shadowy places were usually aware that they were permitting their imagination to roam freely.

4. Thou shall attempt a staycation, even if thou detests the word staycation. There are two types of people in the world. Those who will camp, and those who won't. Those who fall in the former category need little encouragement to pack up their sleeping bag and a Kelly Kettle and head out into the countryside. The ones who wander freely clearing up after themselves can set up a tent anywhere they fancy, as long as they show respect. This freedom to roam also lends itself well to the coorie movement. Braving the night-time chill around a fire with a furry friend at your feet and a hot chocolate in your hands after a day of toiling to create a coorie campsite is pretty special. A caravan stay in Aberfeldy is a more realistic option for the extended family than schlepping abroad en masse. Bonding time between grandparents and wee ones also gives mums and dads the chance for a gin on the banks of the River Tay before sundown.

Glossary Agni: God of fire Agnipariksha: A trial by fire Angaharas: Movement of limbs or steps in a dance Ankush: Hook-shaped prods used to control elephants Annapurna: The Hindu Goddess of food, nourishment and plenty; also believed to be a form of Goddess Parvati Anshan: Hunger. It also denotes voluntary fasting. In this book, Anshan is the capital of the kingdom of Elam Apsara: Celestial maidens from the court of the Lord of the Heavens – Indra; akin to Zeus/Jupiter Arya: Sir Ashwamedh yagna: Literally, the Horse sacrifice. In ancient times, an ambitious ruler, who wished to expand his territories and display his military prowess, would release a sacrificial horse to roam freely through the length and breadth of any kingdom in India. If any king stopped/captured the horse, the ruler’s army would declare war against the challenger, defeat the king and annexe that territory. If an opposing king did not stop the horse, the kingdom would become a vassal of the former Asura: Demon Ayuralay: Hospital Ayurvedic: Derived from Ayurved, an ancient Indian form of medicine Ayushman bhav: May you have a long life Baba: Father Bhang: Traditional intoxicant in India; milk mixed with marijuana Bhiksha: Alms or donations Bhojan graham: Dining room Brahmacharya: The vow of celibacy Brahmastra: Literally, the weapon of Brahma; spoken of in ancient Hindu scriptures. Many experts claim that the description of a Brahmastra and its effects are eerily similar to that of a nuclear weapon. I have assumed this to be true in the context of my book Branga: The ancient name for modern West Bengal, Assam and Bangladesh. Term coined from the conjoint of the two rivers of this land: Brahmaputra and Ganga Brangaridai: Literally, the heart of Branga. The capital of the kingdom of Branga Chandravanshi: Descendants of the moon Chaturanga: Ancient Indian game that evolved into the modern game of chess Chillum: Clay pipe, usually used to smoke marijuana Choti: Braid Construction of Devagiri royal court platform: The description in the book of the court platform is a possible explanation for the mysterious multiple-column buildings made of baked brick discovered at Indus Valley sites, usually next to the public baths, which many historians suppose could have been granaries Dada: Elder brother

my abilities? How can I do something that matches these criteria now? Seeking out flow, I learned, is far more effective than self-punishing shame. Three: based on what I learned about the way social media is designed to hack our attention spans, I now take six months of the year totally off it. (This time is divided into chunks, usually of a few months.) To make sure I stick to it, I always announce publicly when I am going off—I’ll tweet that I am leaving the site for a certain amount of time, so that I will feel like a fool if I suddenly crack and go back a week later. I also get my friend Lizzie to change my passwords. Four: I acted on what I learned about the importance of mind-wandering. I realized that letting your mind wander is not a crumbling of attention, but in fact a crucial form of attention in its own right. It is when you let your mind drift away from your immediate surroundings that it starts to think over the past, and starts to game out the future, and makes connections between different things you have learned. Now I make it a point to go for a walk for an hour every day without my phone or anything else that could distract me. I let my thoughts float and find unexpected connections. I found that, precisely because I give my attention space to roam, my thinking is sharper, and I have better ideas. Five: I used to see sleep as a luxury, or—worse—as an enemy. Now I am strict with myself about getting eight hours every night. I have a little ritual where I make myself unwind: I don’t look at screens for two hours before I go to bed, and I light a scented candle and try to set aside the stresses of the day. I bought a FitBit device to measure my sleep, and if I get less than eight hours, I make myself go back to bed. This has made a really big difference. Six: I’m not a parent, but I am very involved in the lives of my godchildren and my young relatives. I used to spend a lot of my time with them deliberately doing things—busy, educational activities I would plan out in advance. Now I spend most of my time with them just playing freely, or letting them play on their own without being managed or oversupervised or imprisoned. I learned that the more free play they get, the more sound a foundation they will have for their focus and attention. I try to give them as much of that as I can. I would like to be able to tell you that I also do other things I learned I should do to improve my focus—cut out processed foods, meditate every day, build in other slow practices like yoga, and take an extra day off work each week. The truth is I struggle with this—so much of how I deal with ordinary anxiety is tied up with comfort eating and overworking.