Rothschild Quotes

Give me control over a nation’s currency, and I care not who makes its laws. Mayer Amschel Rothschild (1743–1812)

Here's the thing. My one piece of advice to you. You have to let yourself be fully present in every moment. Just be awake for it, do you know what I mean? Go all in and wring every last drop out of the experience.

Butterflies add another dimension to the garden, for they are like dream flowers - childhood dreams - which have broken loose from their stalks and escaped into the sunshine.

It requires a great deal of boldness and a great deal of caution to make a great fortune; and when you have got it, it requires ten times as much wit to keep it. —Nathan Mayer Rothschild

The difference between bitter and better is I.

1790: Mayer Amschel Rothschild states, “Let me issue and control a nation’s money and I care not who writes the laws.

All that matters is that artists keep reminding mortals about what really matters: the wonder, the glory, the madness, the importance and the improbability of love.

The symptomatology of PTSD. In PTSD a traumatic event is not remembered and relegated to one's past in the same way as other life events. Trauma continues to intrude with visual, auditory, and/or other somatic reality on the lives of its victims. Again and again they relieve the life-threatening experiences they suffered, reacting in mind and body as though such events were still occurring. PTSD is a complex psychobiological condition.

2011, more than 95 percent of American households below the poverty line had electricity, running water, flush toilets, a refrigerator, a stove, and a color TV.58 (A century and a half before, the Rothschilds, Astors, and Vanderbilts had none of these things.)

Those who were molested or beaten as children or teenagers might later be vulnerable to sexual abuse or violence, because their natural impulses to protect themselves and protest (physical and verbal) were extinguished. Expectation of hurtful treatment by others or one's own failed capabilities can stubbornly persist despite overwhelming evidence that such is no longer the case.

Monopoly Capitalism, Zionism, Communism, Nazism & Fascism: ALL came out of the Rothschild Offices in Frankfurt, Germany.

...a freeze response (dissociation, collapse, numbing, paralysis, deadness) during the incident that threatened your life or limb. Sometimes it's difficult for people to understand that this is really survival response...

Through God's grace, he gives us a wealth of resources to bear any burden he allows. Therefore, if God doesn't empty our cup of suffering or take it from us, he will give ample grace (favor, kindness, ability) to bear it.

The urge to change my mind and not go at all is enormous. I’m absolutely terrified to leave on that boat. But, if I don’t go, there’ll be one more broken person in this world who gave up a dream to sit in a chair, pick up the TV remote and shrink.

The first goal of trauma recovery should and must be to improve your quality of life on a daily basis.

...the value of a work of art is set by desire: who wants to own it and how badly

Art only survives by striking a chord in someone’s heart and offering solace and reassurance.

Don't you think," said Father Rothschild gently, "that perhaps it is all in some way historical? I don't think people ever want to lose their faith either in religion or anything else. I know very few young people, but it seems to me that they are all possessed with an almost fatal hunger for permanence. I think all these divorces show that. People aren't content just to muddle along nowadays ... And this word "bogus" they all use ... They won't make the best of a bad job nowadays. My private schoolmaster used to say, "If a thing's worth doing at all, it's worth doing well." My Church has taught that in different words for several centuries. But these young people have got hold of another end of the stick, and for all we know it may be the right one. They say, "If a thing's not worth doing well, it's not worth doing at all." It makes everything very difficult for them.

There is, indeed, nothing more vexing than to be, for example, rich, of good family, of decent appearance, fairly well educated, not stupid, rather good-hearted even, and at the same time to possess no talent, no special quality, no eccentricity even, not a single idea of one's own, to be precisely "like everyone else." One is rich, but not so rich as Rothschild; of a good family, but one which has never distinguished itself in any way; of decent appearance, but an appearance expressive of very little; well educated, but without knowing what to do with that education; one is intelligent, but without one's own ideas; one is good-hearted, but without greatness of soul, and so on and so forth. There are a great number of such people in the world, far more than it appears.

Back on the ferry, I sip some vodka on the rocks and have a chat with God. Me: (desperately) What the *&%$# am I going to do? God: Me: (surprised) Really? After all those Sundays of being a back up singer for Jesus, you got nothing to say? God: Me: (humbly) Help me out here.

The Rothschilds had entered upon their spectacular career as the financial servants of the Kurfürst of Hessen, one of the outstanding moneylenders of his time, who taught them business practice and provided them with many of their customers.

There is nothing so desirable as the unobtainable.

Baron Rothschild, whose obsessive quest for rare species led to the annihilation of several.

I had rather have God for my banker than all the Rothschilds.

If God allows you to wrestle with him, it is not so there will be a winner and a loser. He doesn’t need to prove he is stronger and you are weaker. No. The point of wrestling with God is to give you an opportunity to cling to him. God wants you to hang on to him no matter what — and the result will be blessing. You are blessed when you bring your hurts and questions to God and struggle with them in his presence. In that divine wrestling match, you may feel wounded, but you will also receive a blessing you couldn’t have received any other way.

Why a military intelligence group given a sacred task of liberating America and the world from a Satanic cabal would depend entirely on the availability of a janky message board owned by a porn maven in the Philippines wasn’t a question that Q believers were interested in asking.

The owner of The Mandrake Hotel and Resort is a man called Rot, a billionaire like Bill Gates, only nerdier. 
 Rot Kugelschreiber isn’t the name he was born with. No, the name on his birth certificate is Dark Jar Tin Zoo. He chose that penname because in German it means Red Pen—and a Red Pen is mightier than a Red Sword, which in turn is mightier than a Rothschild. 
 Most of the time he goes by Rot, but occasionally he reverts back to Dark Jar Tin Zoo.

I am the Captain of my own life.

Even when it is not well with our circumstances, it can be well with our souls.

We are human beings, not human doings, aren’t we, Gomer girl? Our identity is not based on what we do. It’s based on what God did for us.

Can you miss someone you haven’t seen for longer than you knew them? Maybe we rue the time not the person.

Disappearing from the constellation of the Northern Crown he would somehow reappear reborn above delta in the constellation of Cassiopeia and after incalculable eons of peregrination return an estranged avenger, wreaker of justice on malefactors, a dark crusader, a sleeper awakened, with financial resources (by supposition) surpassing those of Rothschild or the silver king.

I was painted to celebrate the wild cascades of love, the rollicking, bucking, breaking and transformative passion that inevitably gave way to miserable, constricting, overbearing disappointment.

When a government is dependent upon bankers for money, they and not the leaders of the government control the situation, since the hand that gives is above the hand that takes. Money has no motherland; financiers are without patriotism and without decency; their sole object is gain.

God allows you to struggle, even though his power could prevent it, because his wise and compassionate authority knows that the benefit of your struggle far outweighs the comfort you may experience from his rescue.

many women don’t live like God’s beloved. We don’t internalize that His love has made us lovely. We don’t rest in the reality that His sufficiency has made us good enough. We don’t identify with our identity. We don’t accept that God has accepted us.

William Bennett expressed it this way: “Happiness is like a cat. If you try to coax it or call it, it will avoid you. It will never come. But if you pay no attention to it and go about your business, you’ll find it rubbing against your legs and jumping into your

Nothing drives men crazier than the inability to possess.

...ignorance is a curse lying in wait for the younger generation, for those who forgot to ask.

Beauty and desire to possess have driven men mad for centuries.

Annie had stopped listening to music. It was too evocative and she found it easier not to live with unexpected emotional stimulants.

That was the glorious thing about art: its value was entirely subjective.

Food, she decided, was like performance rather than fine art: its power was in its transience and immediacy.

Your difficulty can be hard enough, but the resentment or anger you drag along with it can be even more debilitating than the difficulty itself.

The time to buy is when there's blood in the streets, even if the blood is your own.

All rapidly accumulated wealth is either the result of luck or discovery, or the result of a legalised theft.

Old Baron Rothschild’s recipe for wealth winning applies with greater force than ever to speculation. Somebody asked him if making money in the Bourse was not a very difficult matter and he replied that, on the contrary, he thought that it was very easy… "I will tell you my secret if you wish. It is this: I never buy at the bottom and I always sell too soon.

Mayer Rothschild believed his oft-repeated quote, “Permit me to control the money of a nation, and I care not who makes its laws.

Annie believed taste and aromas had the power to transport people from the present to other places. Sometimes this was a journey to a different mood, but it was also a form of time travel.

Neueste Väterweisheit Zieh nun also in die Welt, Tue beharrlich, was dir gefällt, Werde keiner Gefühle Beute, Meide sorglich arme Leute, Werde kein gelehrter Klauber, Wissenschaft ist fauler Zauber, Sei für Rothschild statt für Ranke, Nimm den Main und laß die Panke, Nimm den Butt und laß die Flunder, Geld ist Glück, und Kunst ist Plunder, Vorwärts auf der schlechtsten Kragge, Wenn nur unter großer Flagge. Pred'ge Tugend, pred'ge Sitte, Millionär ist dann das dritte, Quäl dich nicht mit »wohlerzogen«. Vorwärts mit den Ellenbogen, Und zeig jedem jeden Falles: »Du bist nichts, und ich bin alles.«

God’s ways may seem strange to us, but his ways do not have to live up to our standards or our analysis. He is who he is, and we are who we are. He is beyond error, perfect in all his ways. If his ways confuse or disappoint you, guard against the temptation to re-create him into a god you like better. You and I are to humble ourselves before him and seek to conform to his standard, not the other way around. He is sovereign and good, compassionate and merciful. If we do not accept God in his wholeness, we will never experience our own.

PTSD is, really, all about losing control. Therefore, it makes a lot of sense to prioritize reclaiming and increasing a client’s sense of control over his or her body, mind, therapy situation, and life. Judith Herman

To Father Rothschild no passage was worse than any other. He thought of the sufferings of the saints, the mutability of human nature, the Four Last Things, and between whiles repeated snatches of the penitential psalms.

Submitting to a quick nap after a few tasks are completed is the most prominent one. The midday nap is my newest ritual, and now that I have learned the pleasure of slipping into sleep in the afternoon, I will never give it up again.

Well, you’ll have to help me pick out the ring at least,” Daddy says. “Lara Jean has a better eye for that kind of thing,” Margot says serenely. “Besides, I barely know Ms. Rothschild. I haven’t a clue what kind of ring she’d like.” A shadow crosses over Daddy’s face. It’s the I barely know Ms. Rothschild that put it there. I rush to put on my best Hermione voice. “You ‘haven’t a clue’?” I tease. “P.S., did you know you’re still American, Gogo? We don’t talk as classy as that in America.” She laughs; we all do.

Annie believed taste and aromas had the power to transport people from the present to other places. Sometimes this was a journey to a different mood, but it was also a form of time travel. For Annie, the subtlest whiff of freshly cut grass, or the essence of pine needles, a freshly risen cheese soufflé, the scent of a dog rose or a rain shower on autumn leaves, conjured up past summers.

One of these Technocrats had hacked into a laptop at a Bilderberg Group conference and listened into a conversation between a Rothschild and a Rockefeller. This conversation was about the different ways they planned to use surgical mutilation on their own loyal members.

It was the Rothschilds who funded the early ‘Jewish’ settlers in Palestine; it was the Rothschilds who helped to create and fund Hitler and the Nazis in the Second World War which included the sickening treatment of Jews, gypsies, communists, and others; it was the Rothschilds who used the understandable post-war sympathy for the ‘Jews’ they had mercilessly exploited to press through their demands for a take-over of Arab Palestine; it was the Rothschilds who funded the ‘Jewish’ terrorist groups in Palestine which bombed, murdered, and terrorised Israel into existence; and it was the Rothschilds who funded and manipulated these terrorists into the key positions in Israel, among them the Prime Ministers, Ben-Gurion, Shamir, Begin, and Rabin. These men would spend the rest of their lives condemning the terrorism of others with an hypocrisy which beggars belief; it was Lord Victor Rothschild, the controller of British Intelligence, who provided the know-how for Israel’s nuclear weapons; it was the Rothschilds who owned and controlled Israel from the start and have continued ever since to dictate its policy; it was the Rothschilds and the rest of the Brotherhood network which has hidden and suppressed the fact, confirmed by Jewish historians, that the overwhelming majority of ‘Jewish’ people in Israel originate genetically from the Caucasus Mountains, not from the lands they now occupy. The Jewish people have been sacrificed on the Rothschild altar of greed and lust for power, but even the Rothschilds take their orders from a higher authority which, I believe, is probably based in Asia, and the Far East dictates to the operational headquarters in London.

Trina, I never expected to fall in love again. I thought I got my shot, and I was okay with that, because I had my girls. I didn’t realize anything was missing. Then came you.” Ms. Rothschild’s hands are covering her mouth. She has tears in her eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Trina.” Ms. Rothschild starts choking on her candy, and Daddy leaps up off his knee and starts pounding her on the back. She’s coughing like crazy. From his tree Peter whispers, “Should I go do the Heimlich on her? I know how to do it.” “Peter, my dad’s a doctor!” I whisper back. “He’s got it.

Back to 1815, this is the year Nathan Mayer Rothschild makes his famous statement, “I care not what puppet is placed upon the throne of England to rule the Empire on which the sun never sets. The man who controls Britain’s money supply controls the British Empire, and I control the British money supply.

Your sister is really not loving Ms. Rothschild, huh.” Peter still hasn’t gotten the hang of calling Ms. Rothschild Trina, and he likely never will. In our neighborhood, none of the kids growing up called the adults by their first names. Everyone was Miss or Mrs. or Mr., except for Daddy, who was Dr. “I wouldn’t say Gogo dislikes Trina,” I say. “She likes her; she just isn’t used to her yet. You know how Trina is.” “True,” he says. “I also know how your sister is. It took her forever to warm up to me.” “It wasn’t forever. You’re just used to people liking you from the very first minute they meet you.” I give him a sidelong look. “Because you’re so very charming.” He scowls, because I don’t say it like a compliment. “Gogo doesn’t care about charm. She cares about real.” “Well, now she loves me,” he says, all confidence. When I don’t answer right away, he says, “Right? Doesn’t she?” I laugh. “She does.

Tell me why you guys were laughing.” Clicking into my seat belt, I say, “At least once a week, Ms. Rothschild runs out to her car and spills hot coffee all over herself.” Kitty pipes up, “It’s the funniest thing in the world.” Peter snorts. “You guys are sadistic.” “What’s sadistic?” Kitty wants to know. She puts her head between us. I push her back and say, “Put your seat belt on.” Peter puts the car in reverse. “It means seeing other people in pain makes you happy.” “Oh.” She repeats it to herself softly. “Sadistic.” “Don’t teach her weird stuff,” I say. “I like weird stuff,” Kitty protests. Peter says, “See? The kid likes weird stuff.

se podía incluir a Rothschild en la misma categoría de Richelieu y Robespierre como uno de los «tres terroríficos nombres que conjuran la gradual aniquilación de la vieja aristocracia». Richelieu había destruido su poder; Robespierre había decapitado sus restos decadentes, y ahora Rothschild proporcionaba a Europa una nueva élite social

Anyway, Ms. Rothschild wasn’t my first crush.” “She wasn’t?” “No. You were.” It takes me a few seconds to process this. Even then, all I can manage is, “Huh?” “When I first moved here, before I knew your true personality.” I kick him in the shin for that, and he yelps. “I was twelve, and you were eleven. I let you ride my scooter, remember? That scooter was my pride and joy. I saved up for it for two birthdays. And I let you take it for a ride.” “I thought you were just being generous.” “You crashed it and you got a big scratch on the side,” he continues. “Remember that?” “Yeah, I remember you cried.” “I didn’t cry. I was justifiably upset. And that was the end of my little crush.

The ocean swells around us. Sometimes, we are in a bowl of water and sometimes on the top of the lip. The horizon curves. We are sitting on top of the world. In theory, anyone is on the top of their world at every moment, given that the Earth is truly round. But, it’s hard to see that in a subway under New York City and completely obvious out here.

The Rothschilds are people we certainly would not attempt to defend given the rumors swirling around them of financial corruption and market manipulation in this era and in earlier eras. However, the way they are held up, by conspiracy extremists and other paranoid thinkers, to represent the Jewish community is an absolute joke. There are good and bad people in all races. The fact that there are many Jews in the banking sector is being used by neo-Nazis and anti-Semites to try to sway the uneducated to believe the Jews are the problem instead of banking shysters and banksters in general. Another important point relating to the current Jewish prominence in the banking world is there is a very obvious historical reason for it...Historically Jews did not have much freedom of choice when it came to their occupations. In fact, they were once forbidden by Christian authorities, and by some Muslim authorities, to pursue most regular occupations. They were, however, permitted and even encouraged to enter the banking industry because, in the medieval era at least, Christians/Muslims were not allowed to charge fellow-Christians/Muslims interest, but someone had to make loans – so the Jews were charged with the task. Jews were also permitted to slaughter animals – another equally unsavory job – and they were then despised and mocked by entire communities for being animal slaughterers and bankers.

Art follows power. Just as soldiers hang medals from their uniforms, the rich hang paintings on their walls.

The one area that Winkleman avoided was dealing in contemporary art, which Memling described as "shooting poisonous snakes with a water pistol.

My future depends on people believe that I am worth something and need protecting.

Are you mad? We're five floors up." You could die. Annie cried out. "Something much worse could happen we could forget to live." Said Evie.

love is as much an art as painting or living; it requires practice, finesse, determination, humility, energy and delicacy.

This is the great tragedy of love—even if you are lucky enough to stumble on it, it never lasts. Every young person believes that their case will be different; fools, damn fools.

I was making another film. “I’ve done too many of those to

gallons of wine, cinnamon,

akimbo,

Wealth did not, he realised, guarantee happiness, but it did offer a measure of security and opportunity.

Beauty and desire to possess have driven men mad for centuries. Add a hundred and twenty billion dollars annually to that equation and you have serious trouble.

...love is as much an art as painting or living; it requires practice, finesse, determination, humility, energy and delicacy.

As we all know, a fierce female mind is a passion-killer. Men prefer the breast to the brain.

1836: Following his years of fighting against the Rothschilds’ and their central bank in America, President Andrew Jackson finally succeeds in throwing the Rothschilds’ central bank out of America, when the bank’s charter is not renewed. It would not be until 1913 that the Rothschilds’ would be able to set up their third central bank in America, the Federal Reserve.

But try not to let the “I” in iddiction speak too loudly, sweet Gomer girl. After all, “I” is smack-dab in the middle of lie. Instead, let your “I” be found where it should be—hidden in Chr-i-st!

What Mr. Rothschild had discovered was the basic principle of power, influence, and control over people as applied to economics. That principle is "when you assume the appearance of power, people soon give it to you." Mr. Rothschild had discovered that currency or deposit loan accounts had the required appearance of power that could be used to INDUCE PEOPLE [WC emphasis] (inductance, with people corresponding to a magnetic field) into surrendering their real wealth in exchange for a promise of greater wealth (instead of real compensation). They would put up real collateral in exchange for a loan of promissory notes. Mr. Rothschild found that he could issue more notes than he had backing for, so long as he had someone's stock of gold as a persuader to show to his customers. Mr. Rothschild loaned his promissory notes to individuals and to governments. These would create overconfidence. Then he would make money scarce, tighten control of the system, and collect the collateral through the obligation of contracts. The cycle was then repeated. These pressures could be used to ignite a war. Then he would control the availability of currency to determine who would win the war. That government which agreed to give him control of its economic system got his support.

Food for her was as much about colour, smell and presentation as taste: the experience of eating should start in the eye and the nose and then erupt in the imagination. Chewing and tasting were the climax to a sensual experience. On

Who’s teasing? I’m telling him the truth. He ain’t going to have it. Neither one of ‘em going to have it. And I’ll tell you something else you not going to have. You not going to have no private coach with four red velvet chairs that swivel around in one place whenever you want ‘em to. No. and you not going to have your own special toilet and your own special-made eight-foot bed either. And a valet and a cook and a secretary to travel with you and do everything you say. Everything: get the right temperature in your hot-water bottle and make sure the smoking tobacco in the silver humidor is fresh each and every day. There’s something else you not going to have. You ever have five thousand dollars of cold cash money in your pocket and walk into a bank and tell the bank man you want such and such a house on such and such a street and he sell it to you right then? Well, you won’t ever have it. And you not going to have a governor’s mansion, or eight thousand acres of timber to sell. And you not going to have no ship under your command to sail on, no train to run, and you can join the 332nd if you want to and shoot down a thousand German planes all by yourself and land in Hitler’s backyard and whip him with your own hands, but you never going to have four stars on your shirt front, or even three. And you not going to have no breakfast tray brought in to you early in the morning with a red rose on it and two warm croissants and a cup of hot chocolate. Nope. Never. And no pheasant buried in coconut leaves for twenty days and stuffed with wild rice and cooked over a wood fire so tender and delicate it make you cry. And no Rothschild ’29 or even Beaujolais to go with it.” A few men passing by stopped to listen to Tommy’s lecture. “What’s going on?” they asked Hospital Tommy. “Feather refused them a beer,” said. The men laughed. “And no baked Alaska!” Railroad Tommy went on. “None! You never going to have that.” “No baked Alaska?” Guitar opened his eyes wide with horror and grabbed his throat.” You breaking my heart!” “Well, now. That’s something you will have—a broken heart.” Railroad Tommy’s eyes softened, but the merriment in them died suddenly. “And folly. A whole lot of folly. You can count on it.” “Mr. Tommy, suh,” Guitar sang in mock humility, “we just wanted a bottle of beer is all.” “Yeah,” said Tommy. “Yeah, well, welcome aboard.

1812: Backed by Rothschild money, and Nathan Mayer Rothschild’s orders, the British declare war on the United States. The Rothschilds’ plan is to cause the United States to build up such a debt in fighting this war that they have no option but to surrender to the British and allow the charter for the Rothschild owned First Bank of the United States to be renewed. However, as the British are still busy fighting Napoleon, they are unable to mount much of an assault and the war ends in 1814 with America undefeated.

The Rothschilds have been closely involved with the global elite since the inception of this group. The oldest known Rothschild went by the name of Uri Feibesch who lived in the early sixteenth century. His great great great grandson was Moses Bauer, who lived in the early eighteenth century. A well-known ancestor of this banking family was Mayer Amschel Bauer, an asset manager in Frankfurt am Main. Among other things he represented the money and assets of sovereign Wilhelm von Hessen. He became very rich, because he attended to the conveyance of the capital that belonged to this sovereign during the French Revolution. Mayer Amschel Bauer chose, without exception, women from very influential families that belonged to the global elite, for his sons. In the same way, his daughters married prominent bankers who also belonged to the global elite. All these families acted in the same way as the royal families: they married amongst themselves. Bauer’s sons were known as the “five Frankfurter”: they became bankers of five European countries.

Wells says that, "strange Mystery Men were dimly visible through a fog of baffling evasions and mis-statements, manipulating prices and exchanges. Prominent among these Mystery Men was a certain Mr. Montagu Norman, Governor of the Bank of England from 1920 to 1935." Not surprisingly, this is the same Montagu Norman who was a rabid pre-war partisan of Hitler, and who participated with Hjalmar Schacht, with American intelligence, with Wall Street, and with the Rothschild/Warburg/Schiff banks in the creation of Adolf Hitler and the Third Reich.

And so, as the passengers drifted off to sleep to the rhythmic clicking of steel wheels against rail, little did they dream that, riding in the car at the end of their train, were six men who represented an estimated one-fourth of the total wealth of the entire world. This was the roster of the Aldrich car that night: Nelson W. Aldrich, Republican "whip" in the Senate, Chairman of the National Monetary Commission, business associate of J.P. Morgan, father-in-law to John D. Rockefeller, Jr.; Abraham Piatt Andrew, Assistant Secretary of the U.S. Treasury; Frank A. Vanderlip, president of the National City Bank of New York, the most powerful of the banks at that time, representing William Rockefeller and the international investment banking house of Kuhn, Loeb & Company; Henry P. Davison, senior partner of the J.P. Morgan Company; Benjamin Strong, head of J.P. Morgan's Bankers Trust Company;1 6. Paul M. Warburg, a partner in Kuhn, Loeb & Company, a representative of the Rothschild banking dynasty in England and France, and brother to Max Warburg who was head of the Warburg banking consortium in Germany and the Netherlands.2

To protect them from Hitler’s bombers, the curators secreted Wallace’s and Darwin’s bird skins in unmarked lorries to manors and mansions throughout the English countryside. Among the safe houses was a private museum in the tiny town of Tring, built by one of the richest men in history as a twenty-first-birthday present for his son. Lionel Walter Rothschild would grow up to earn many distinctions: the Right Honorable Lord, Baron de Rothschild, member of Parliament, adulterer, blackmail victim, and one of the most tragically obsessive bird collectors ever to roam the earth.

Belief in blood and race is naturally associated with anti-Semitism. At the same time, the romantic outlook, partly because it is aristocratic, and partly because it prefers passion to calculation, has a vehement contempt for commerce and finance. It is thus led to proclaim an opposition to capitalism which is quite different from that of the socialist who represents the interest of the proletariat, since it is an opposition based on dislike of economic preoccupations, and strengthened by the suggestion that the capitalist world is governed by Jews. This point of view is expressed by Byron on the rare occasions when he condescends to notice anything so vulgar as economic power: Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign  O’er conquerors, whether royalist or liberal? Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain?  (That make old Europe’s journals squeak and gibber all.) Who keep the world, both Old and New, in pain  Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all? The shade of Buonaparte’s noble daring? Jew Rothschild, and his fellow Christian Baring. The verse is perhaps not very musical, but the sentiment is quite of our time, and has been re-echoed by all Byron’s followers.

I truly don’t mind staying in the guest room. I’d hate to make things awkward.” Daddy starts to answer him, but Margot gets there first. “No, it’s totally fine,” she assures Ravi. “Let’s go get the rest of our stuff out of the car.” The second they leave, Kitty and I turn to each other. At the same time we say, “Oh my God.” Kitty ponders, “Why do they need to stay in the same room together? Do they have to have sex that bad?” “Enough, Kitty,” Daddy says, his tone sharper than I’ve heard him use with her. He turns and leaves, and I hear the sound of his office door closing. His office is where he goes when he is really mad. Ms. Rothschild gives her a stern look and follows after him. Kitty and I look at each other again. “Yikes,” I say. “He didn’t have to snap,” Kitty says sullenly. “I’m not the one whose boyfriend is staying in my bed.” “He didn’t mean it.” I tuck her against me, wrapping my arms around her bony shoulders. “Gogo has a lot of nerve, huh?” She’s very impressive, my sister. I just feel sorry for Daddy. This isn’t a fight he’s used to having--or any kind of fight at all, really. Of course I text Peter right away and tell all. He sends back a lot of wide-eyed emojis. And: Do you think your dad would let us stay in the same room?? Which I ignore.

Multiply examples, choose them where you will, consider the origin of all fortunes, large or small, whether arising out of commerce, finance, manufactures or the land. Everywhere you will find that the wealth of the wealthy springs from the poverty of the poor. This is why an anarchist society need not fear the advent of a Rothschild who would settle in its midst. If every member of the community knows that after a few hours of productive toil he will have a right to all the pleasures that civilization procures, and to those deeper sources of enjoyment which art and science offer to all who seek them, he will not sell his strength for a starvation wage.

Only now that he had great swathes of time could he begin to have hobbies. This was why art was such an incalculable luxury: it sent out a message saying, "I have time to subcontract all the menial, dull chores out to others; I waste hours in idle contemplation of a piece of cloth covered in spots; I am an art lover; I am time-rich. I can mooch about in a sea of pickled sharks.

We’ve got the guest room all set up.” He gives me a fond look before saying, “Lara Jean put in a new pair of slippers and a robe for you, Ravi.” Before Ravi can reply, Margot says, “Oh, that’s so nice. But actually, I think Ravi’s just going to stay with me in my room.” It’s as if Margot has dropped a stink bomb in the middle of our living room. Kitty and I are looking at each other with huge OMG eyes; Daddy just looks stunned and at a complete loss for words. When I made up the guest room for Ravi, folded a set of towels for him on the side of the bed, and put out the robe and slippers, it never occurred to me that he’d be staying in Margot’s room. Clearly, the thought never occurred to Daddy either. Daddy’s face is growing redder by the second. “Oh, um…I don’t know if…” Margot purses her lips nervously as she waits for Daddy to finish his sentence. We’re all waiting, but he can’t seem to figure out what to say next. His eyes dart over to Ms. Rothschild for help, and she puts her hand on the small of his back in support. Poor Ravi looks supremely uncomfortable. My first thought was that he was a Ravenclaw like Margot; now I’m thinking he’s a Hufflepuff like me. In a soft voice he says, “I truly don’t mind staying in the guest room. I’d hate to make things awkward.” Daddy starts to answer him, but Margot gets there first. “No, it’s totally fine,” she assures Ravi. “Let’s go get the rest of our stuff out of the car.” The second they leave, Kitty and I turn to each other. At the same time we say, “Oh my God.

Is she really old enough to have crushes on boys? I feel like she’s too young for all that.” “I had crushes on boys when I was nine,” I tell him. I’m still thinking about Kitty. I wonder how I can make it so she isn’t mad at me anymore. Somehow I don’t think snickerdoodles will cut it this time. “Who?” Josh asks me. “Who what?” Maybe if I can somehow convince Daddy to buy her a puppy… “Who was your first crush?” “Hmm. My first real crush?” I had kindergarten and first- and second-grade crushes aplenty, but they don’t really count. “Like the first one that really mattered?” “Sure.” “Well…I guess Peter Kavinsky.” Josh practically gags. “Kavinsky? Are you kidding me? He’s so obvious. I thought you’d be into someone more…I don’t know, subtle. Peter Kavinsky’s such a cliché. He’s like a cardboard cutout of a ‘cool guy’ in a movie about high school.” I shrug. “You asked.” “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “Just…wow.” “He used to be different. I mean, he was still very Peter, but less so.” When Josh looks unconvinced, I say, “You’re a boy, so you can’t understand what I’m talking about.” “You’re right. I don’t understand!” “Hey, you’re the one who had a crush on Ms. Rothschild!” Josh turns red. “She was really pretty back then!” “Uh-huh.” I give him a knowing look. “She was really ‘pretty.’” Our across-the-street neighbor Ms. Rothschild used to mow her lawn in terry-cloth short shorts and a string bikini top. The neighborhood boys would conveniently come and play in Josh’s yard on those days. “Anyway, Ms. Rothschild wasn’t my first crush.” “She wasn’t?” “No. You were.

I’m going to have to start booking you guys a month in advance.” “Or you could invite Ms. Rothschild over,” Kitty suggests. “Her weekends are pretty lonely too.” He gives her a funny look. “I’m sure she has plenty she’d rather do than watch The Sound of Music with her neighbor.” Brightly I say, “Don’t forget the tacos al pastor! Those are a draw, too. And you, of course. You’re a draw.” “You’re definitely a draw,” Kitty pipes up. “Guys,” Daddy begins. “Wait,” I say. “Let me just say one thing. You should be going on some dates, Daddy.” “I go on dates!” “You’ve gone on, like, two dates ever,” I say, and he falls silent. “Why not ask Ms. Rothschild out? She’s cute, she has a good job, Kitty loves her. And she lives really close by.” “See, that’s exactly why I shouldn’t ask her out,” Daddy says. “You should never date a neighbor or a coworker, because then you’ll have to keep seeing them if things don’t work out.” Kitty asks, “You mean like that quote ‘Don’t shit where you eat’?” When Daddy frowns, Kitty quickly corrects herself. “I mean ‘Don’t poop where you eat.’ That’s what you mean, right, Daddy?” “Yes, I suppose that’s what I mean, but Kitty, I don’t like you using cuss words.” Contritely she says, “I’m sorry. But I still think you should give Ms. Rothschild a chance. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.” “Well, I’d hate to see you get your hopes up,” Daddy says. “That’s life,” Kitty says. “Things don’t always work out. Look at Lara Jean and Peter.” I give her a dirty look. “Gee, thanks a lot.” “I’m just trying to make a point,” she says. Kitty goes over to Daddy and puts her arms around his waist. This kid is really pulling out all the stops. “Just think about it, Daddy. Tacos. Nuns. Nazis. And Ms. Rothschild.

his refusal to be seduced by new ideas or faraway places, but walking through the tiny twisting streets of New Delhi, Annie understood that Desmond’s world was limited by fear. He couldn’t bear to step out of the known, the familiar. In Europe he could understand the rudiments of language, the coordinates of the culture, but elsewhere he was flummoxed. The same went, she began to understand, for his absolute reliance on order and routine.

No revolution can be successful without organization and money. "The downtrodden masses" usually provide little of the former and none of the latter. But Insiders at the top can arrange for both.   What did these people possibly have to gain in financing the Russian Revolution? What did they have to gain by keeping it alive and afloat, or, during the 1920's by pouring millions of dollars into what Lenin called his New Economic Program, thus saving the Soviets from collapse?   Why would these "capitalists" do all this? If your goal is global conquest, you have to start somewhere. It may or may not have been coincidental, but Russia was the one major European country without a central bank. In Russia, for the first time, the Communist conspiracy gained a geographical homeland from which to launch assaults against the other nations of the world. The West now had an enemy.   In the Bolshevik Revolution we have some of the world's richest and most powerful men financing a movement which claims its very existence is based on the concept of stripping of their wealth men like the Rothschilds, Rockefellers, Schiffs, Warburgs, Morgans, Harrimans, and Milners. But obviously these men have no fear of international Communism. It is only logical to assume that if they financed it and do not fear it, it must be because they control it. Can there be any other explanation that makes sense? Remember that for over 150 years it has been standard operating procedure of the Rothschilds and their allies to control both sides of every conflict. You must have an "enemy" if you are going to collect from the King. The East-West balance-of-power politics is used as one of the main excuses for the socialization of America. Although it was not their main purpose, by nationalization of Russia the Insiders bought themselves an enormous piece of real estate, complete with mineral rights, for somewhere between $30 and $40 million.   ----  

Trina, I never expected to fall in love again. I thought I got my shot, and I was okay with that, because I had my girls. I didn’t realize anything was missing. Then came you.” Ms. Rothschild’s hands are covering her mouth. She has tears in her eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Trina.” Ms. Rothschild starts choking on her candy, and Daddy leaps up off his knee and starts pounding her on the back. She’s coughing like crazy. From his tree Peter whispers, “Should I go do the Heimlich on her? I know how to do it.” “Peter, my dad’s a doctor!” I whisper back. “He’s got it.” As her coughing subsides, she stands up straight and wipes her eyes. “Wait. Were you asking me to marry you?” “I was trying to,” Daddy says. “Are you all right?” “Yes!” She claps her hands to her cheeks. “Yes, you’re all right, or yes, you’ll marry me?” Daddy asks her, and he’s only half kidding. “Yes, I’ll marry you!” she screams, and Daddy reaches for her, and they kiss. “This feels private,” I whisper to Kitty. “It’s all part of the show,” she whispers back. Daddy hands Ms. Rothschild the ring box. I can’t quite make out what he says next, but whatever it was, it makes her double over laughing. “What’s he saying?” Kitty asks me, just as Peter says, “What did he say?” “I can’t hear! Both of you be quiet! You’re ruining the video!” Which is when Ms. Rothschild looks over in our direction. Shoot. We all pop back behind our respective trees, and then I hear Daddy’s wry voice call out, “You can come out, guys. She said yes!” We run out from behind the trees; Kitty launches herself into Ms. Rothschild’s arms. They fall over onto the grass, and Ms. Rothschild is laughing breathlessly, her laughter echoing through the woods. I hug Daddy, and meanwhile Peter’s still playing videographer, recording the moment for posterity like the good boyfriend he is. “Are you happy?” I ask, looking up at my dad. His eyes brimming with tears, he nods and hugs me tighter. And just like that, our little family grows bigger.

However, Rothschild was easily the most scientific collector of his age, though also the most regrettably lethal, for in the 1890s he became interested in Hawaii, perhaps the most temptingly vulnerable environment Earth has yet produced. Millions of years of isolation had allowed Hawaii to evolve 8,800 unique species of animals and plants. Of particular interest to Rothschild were the islands’ colorful and distinctive birds, often consisting of very small populations inhabiting extremely specific ranges. The tragedy for many Hawaiian birds was that they were not only distinctive, desirable, and rare—a dangerous combination in the best of circumstances—but also often heartbreakingly easy to take. The greater koa finch, an innocuous member of the honeycreeper family, lurked shyly in the canopies of koa trees, but if someone imitated its song it would abandon its cover at once and fly down in a show of welcome. The last of the species vanished in 1896, killed by Rothschild’s ace collector Harry Palmer, five years after the disappearance of its cousin the lesser koa finch, a bird so sublimely rare that only one has ever been seen: the one shot for Rothschild’s collection. Altogether during the decade or so of Rothschild’s most intensive collecting, at least nine species of Hawaiian birds vanished, but it may have been more. Rothschild was by no means alone in his zeal to capture birds at more or less any cost. Others in fact were more ruthless. In 1907 when a well-known collector named Alanson Bryan realized that he had shot the last three specimens of black mamos, a species of forest bird that had only been discovered the previous decade, he noted that the news filled him with “joy.