Specialty Life Quotes

The Romans move east from New York. They advance in your camp, and nothing can slow them down. "Nothing can slow them down," Leo mused. "I wonder..." "What?" Jason asked. Leo looked at the dwarfs. "I'll make you a deal." Akmon's eyes lit up. "Thirty percent?" "We'll leave you all the treasure," Leo said, "except the stuff that belongs to us, and the astrolabe, and this book, which we'll take back to the dude in Venice." "But he'll destroy us!" Passolos wailed. "We won't say where we got it," Leo promised. "And we won't kill you. We'll let you go free." "Uh, Leo...?" Jason asked nervously. Akmon squealed in delight. "I knew you were as smart at Hercules! I will call you Black Bottom, the Sequel!" "You, no thanks," Leo said. "But in return for us sparing your lives, you have to do something for us. I'm going to send you somewhere to steal from some people, harass them, make life hard for them any way you can. You have to follow my directions exactly. You have to swear on the River Styx." "We swear!" Passalos said. "Stealing from people is our specialty!" "I love harassment!" Akmon agreed. "Where are we going?" Leo grinned. "Ever heard of New York?

I chose the specialty of surgery because of Matron, that steady presence during my boyhood and adolescence. 'What is the hardest thing you can possibly do?' she said when I went to her for advice on the darkest day of the first half of my life. I squirmed. How easily Matron probed the gap between ambition and expediency. 'Why must I do what is hardest?' 'Because, Marion, you are an instrument of God. Don't leave the instrument sitting in its case my son. Play! Leave no part of your instrument unexplored. Why settle for 'Three Blind Mice' when you can play the 'Gloria'? 'But, Matron, I can't dream of playing Bach...I couldn't read music. 'No, Marion,' she said her gaze soft...'No, not Bach's 'Gloria'. Yours! Your 'Gloria' lives within you. The greatest sin is not finding it, ignoring what God made possible in you.

God’s specialty is raising dead things to life and making impossible things possible. You don’t have the need that exceeds His power.

I don't like purely philosophical works. I think a little philosophy should be added to life and art by way of seasoning, but to make it one's specialty seems to me as strange as eating nothing but horseradish." - Lara, from Doctor Zhivago

I stopped trying to understand fate and destiny a long time ago, but dumb luck seems to be my specialty.

Where am I?" Magnus croaked. "Nazca." "Oh, so we went on a little trip." "You broke into a man's house," Catarina said. "You stole a carpet and enchanted it to fly. Then you sped off into the night air. We pursued you on foot." "Ah," said Magnus. "You were shouting some things." "What things?" "I prefer not to repeat them," Catarina said. "I also prefer not to remember the time we spent in the desert. It is a mammoth desert, Magnus. Ordinary deserts are quite large. Mammoth deserts are so called because they are larger than ordinary deserts." "Thank you for that interesting and enlightening information," Magnus croaked. "You told us to leave you in the desert, because you planned to start a new life as a cactus," Catarina said, her voice flat. "Then you conjured up tiny needles and threw them at us. With pinpoint accuracy." "Well," he said with dignity. "Considering my highly intoxicated state, you must have been impressed with my aim." "'Impressed' is not the word to use to describe how I felt last night, Magnus." "I thank you for stopping me there," Magnus said. "It was for the best. You are a true friend. No harm done. Let's say no more about it. Could you possibly fetch me - " "Oh, we couldn't stop you," Catarina interrupted. "We tried, but you giggled, leaped onto the carpet, and flew away again. You kept saying that you wanted to go to Moquegua." "What did I do in Moquegua?" "You never got there," Catarina said. "But you were flying about and yelling and trying to, ahem, write messages for us with your carpet in the sky." "We then stopped for a meal," Catarina said. "You were most insistent that we try a local specialty that you called cuy. We actually had a very pleasant meal, even though you were still very drunk." "I'm sure I must have been sobering up at that point," Magnus argued. "Magnus, you were trying to flirt with your own plate." "I'm a very open-minded sort of fellow!" "Ragnor is not," Catarina said. "When he found out that you were feeding us guinea pigs, he hit you over the head with your plate. It broke." "So ended our love," Magnus said. "Ah, well. It would never have worked between me and the plate anyway. I'm sure the food did me good, Catarina, and you were very good to feed me and put me to bed - " Catarina shook her head."You fell down on the floor. Honestly, we thought it best to leave you sleeping on the ground. We thought you would remain there for some time, but we took our eyes off you for one minute, and then you scuttled off. Ragnor claims he saw you making for the carpet, crawling like a huge demented crab.

I have to admit it humbly, mon cher compatriote, I was always bursting with vanity. I, I, I is the refrain of my whole life, which could be heard in everything I said. I could never talk without boasting, especially if I did so with that shattering discretion that was my specialty. It is quite true that I always lived free and powerful. I simply felt released in the regard to all the for the excellent reason that I recognized no equals. I always considered myself more intelligent than everyone else, as I’ve told you, but also more sensitive and more skillful, a crack shot, an incomparable driver, a better lover. Even in the fields in which it was easy for me to verify my inferiority–like tennis, for instance, in which I was but a passable partner–it was hard for me not to think that, with a little time and practice, I would surpass the best players. I admitted only superiorities in me and this explained my good will and serenity. When I was concerned with others, I was so out of pure condescension, in utter freedom, and all the credit went to me: my self-esteem would go up a degree.

I owe a debt to you," his low voice hissed at Shion's ear. "Four years ago, you saved my life. I'm paying back that debt. That's all." "Then you've paid enough. Too much, even." Shion gripped Nezumi's wrist to pry it away from his collar. But Nezumi's taut muscles showed no signs of relaxing. "Let go." "Make me, little boy." "I'll bite your nose off." Shion clicked his teeth. There was a split second of hesitation. Shion didn't miss it. He slid a hand around the back of Nezumi's neck. "Biting noses off is my specialty." "Huh? Wait a second, that's dirty―" "I forgot to mention, over these past four years, I've also learned how to fight.

How do we maintain integrity as introverts, and at the same time allow our natural extroverted tendencies to emerge? The answer: organically. We mosh best when we feel like moshing. The T’ai Chi symbol illustrates that introversion (yin) flows into extroversion (yang) and extroversion flows into introversion. Each specialty houses the nucleus of the other. When the introvert is safe, she can extrovert. When the extrovert is safe, he can introvert.

She walked away without bothering to look further. She knew he’d be fine. Her specialty was subduing without causing any real damage. He’d lie there for a few minutes. He’d be sore, maybe bruised tomorrow. He’d brush the cobwebs off his imagination to invent a story for his buddies about how three seven-foot, three-hundred-pound male karate black belts attacked him in the park. But she would bet her life on the fact that he would never sneak up on another fragile-looking woman without remembering this night. And that was the point. That was what Gaia lived for.

... in fact any good mind properly taught can think like Euclid and like Walt Whitman. The Renaissance, as we saw, was full of such minds, equally competent as poet and as engineers. The modern notion of "the two cultures," incompatible under one skull, comes solely from the proliferation of specialties in science; but these also divide scientists into groups that do not understand one another, the cause being the sheer mass of detail and the diverse terminologies. In essence the human mind remains one, not 2 or 60 different organs.

He's a pathetic fool, indeed. He was just some contracted worker for a no-name game developer, and his hobby was reading novels. His specialty is to run his cocky mouth off, and he has this habit of throwing his life away so that we can overcome any and all impossible situations hindering us. Someone like that managed to lead his companions this far. Regardless of what the incoming conclusion is, this world wouldn't have come this far without him around.

The specialty in all life is expecting the exception, while ignorant of real acceptance, until unexpectedly you re-witness your own ignorance to 'be' the cause that awakens others. One does not do this yesterday, or today. You do this with expressing honesty everyday.

Everyone on the mission had two specialties. I’m a botanist and mechanical engineer; basically, the mission’s fix-it man who played with plants. The mechanical engineering might save my life

but I grew to love these spontaneous gatherings in shopping malls, university bookstores, and specialty bookshops that couldn't be replaced by the big chains, all the spaces with coffee, comfortable chairs, and the presence of books that allow people to browse and discover interests they didn't know they had.

No matter how many indigested actions a female appears to exhibit to the male psyche, she is still a woman. She's the specialty of the house. However she doesn't come at a sale price. Considering her value, a woman is one of the best deals life has to offer.

Nowadays, thanks to their education in politics and economics, they are said to be different. But even at that time, as one got older and on longer acquaintance with the smokehouse of the mind, in which the world cures the bacon of its daily affairs, one learned to adapt oneself to reality, and a person with a trained mind would finally end up limiting himself to his specialty and spend the rest of his life convinced that the whole of life should perhaps be different, but there was no point thinking about it.

Her specialty is persnickety little bookstores and the particular breed that runs them.

Surround yourself with as many highly qualified people as possible in the various areas of specialty who are passionate not only about business but more importantly about life and who support you in the pursuit of your passion and purpose.

Surgeons are independent doers, ready to act. They prefer not to ask for help, thank you, or to place trust in much outside their own abilities. They work hard, expect perfection, and do not accept excuses. To the residents, some surgeon mentors were decent human beings; others were tyrants. Personalities aside, the central fact was this: Surgeons use their hard-earned physical skills to get results in the operating room (or create their own problems). They rely on themselves for success or failure. They are the captains of their ships. They do not need or want to rely on medication or another person to improve the quality of a patient’s life. Surgery is a specialty of instant gratification, for patient and surgeon alike.

Wanted, a man who is larger than his calling, who considers it a low estimate of his occupation to value it merely as a means of getting a living. Wanted, a man who sees self-development, education and culture, discipline and drill, character and manhood, in his occupation. Wanted, a man of courage who is not a coward in any part of his nature. Wanted, a man who is symmetrical, and not one-sided in his development, who has not sent all the energies of his being into one narrow specialty and allowed all the other branches of his life to wither and die. Wanted, a man who is broad, who does not take half views of things; a man who mixes common sense with his theories, who does not let a college education spoil him for practical, every-day life; a man who prefers substance to show, and one who regards his good name as a priceless treasure.

Four centuries and more of modern thought have been, from one point of view, an experiment in the possibilities of knowledge open to man, assuming that there is no Revealed Truth. The conclusion--which Hume already saw and from which he fled into the comfort of "common sense" and conventional life, and which the multitudes sense today without possessing any such secure refuge--the conclusion of this experiment is an absolute negation: if there is no Revealed Truth, there is no truth at all; the search for truth outside of Revelation has come to a dead end. The scientist admits this by restricting himself to the narrowest of specialties, content if he sees a certain coherence in a limited aggregate of facts, without troubling himself over the existence of any truth, large or small; the multitudes demonstrate it by looking to the scientist, not for truth, but for the technological applications of a knowledge which has no more than a practical value, and by looking to other, irrational sources for the ultimate values men once expected to find in truth. The despotism of science over practical life is contemporaneous with the advent of a whole series of pseudo-religious "revelations"; the two are correlative symptoms of the same malady: the abandonment of truth.

One of the problems with understanding what is meant by hell is that this tiny word has been forced to carry so much freight. Over the centuries it has picked up meanings often far removed from what was originally intended in the Bible. Hell has become a catchall word for however we imagine eternal punishment in the afterlife. But the Bible doesn’t talk near as much about the afterlife as we have imagined. A surprising thing about the Old Testament is its almost total disinterest in the afterlife. We think of heaven and hell as being the stock-in-trade of religion, but this was not the case with the writers of the Hebrew Scriptures. While the pagan religions of the Gentiles made elaborate speculations about the nature of the afterlife (this was a specialty with the Egyptians and Babylonians), the Hebrews were conspicuous in having almost no afterlife theology. For the Hebrews, death was Sheol, the grave, the underworld, the abode of the dead. The Hebrew Scriptures are fundamentally concerned with this life.

Here I should issue a caveat. In origins-of-life research (and probably in most other disciplines as well), scientists gravitate to models that highlight their personal scientific specialty. Organic chemist Stanley Miller and his cohorts saw life’s origins as essentially a problem in organic chemistry. Geochemists, by contrast, have tended to focus on more intricate origins scenarios involving such variables as temperature and pressure and chemically complex rocks. Experts in membrane-forming lipid molecules promote the “lipid world,” while molecular biologists who study DNA and RNA view the “RNA world” as the model to beat. Specialists who study viruses, or metabolism, or clays, or the deep biosphere have their idiosyncratic prejudices as well. We all do it; we all focus

Every entry, whether revised or reviewed, goes through multiple editing passes. The definer starts the job, then it’s passed to a copy editor who cleans up the definer’s work, then to a bunch of specialty editors: cross-reference editors, who make sure the definer hasn’t used any word in the entry that isn’t entered in that dictionary; etymologists, to review or write the word history; dating editors, who research and add the dates of first written use; pronunciation editors, who handle all the pronunciations in the book. Then eventually it’s back to a copy editor (usually a different one from the first round, just to be safe), who will make any additional changes to the entry that cross-reference turned up, then to the final reader, who is, as the name suggests, the last person who can make editorial changes to the entry, and then off to the proofreader (who ends up, again, being a different editor from the definer and the two previous copy editors). After the proofreaders are done slogging through two thousand pages of four-point type, the production editors send it off to the printer or the data preparation folks, and then we get another set of dictionary pages (called page proofs) to proofread. This process happens continuously as we work through a dictionary, so a definer may be working on batches in C, cross-reference might be in W, etymology in T, dating and pronunciation in the second half of S, copy editors in P (first pass) and Q and R (second pass), while the final reader is closing out batches in N and O, proofreaders are working on M, and production has given the second set of page proofs to another set of proofreaders for the letter L. We all stagger our way through the alphabet until the last batch, which is inevitably somewhere near G, is closed. By the time a word is put in print either on the page or online, it’s generally been seen by a minimum of ten editors. Now consider that when it came to writing the Collegiate Dictionary, Eleventh Edition, we had a staff of about twenty editors working on it: twenty editors to review about 220,000 existing definitions, write about 10,000 new definitions, and make over 100,000 editorial changes (typos, new dates, revisions) for the new edition. Now remember that the 110,000-odd changes made were each reviewed about a dozen times and by a minimum of ten editors. The time given to us to complete the revision of the Tenth Edition into the Eleventh Edition so production could begin on the new book? Eighteen months.

Captain! Firing at us! We are in forbidden territory.” Forbidden, that is, by our own people. A rectangle in which our own people fired on any plane, friend or enemy. We had orders to fly round it, but the Group never bothered to observe these traffic regulations. Well, it was Dutertre who set the course, not I. Nobody could blame me. “Firing hard?” “Doing as well as they can.” “Want to go back and round?” “Oh, no.” His tone was matter-of-fact. We had been through our storm. For men like us, this anti-aircraft fire was a mere April shower. Still.... “Dutertre, wouldn’t it be silly to be brought down by our own guns?” “They won’t bring anything down. Just giving themselves a little exercise.” Dutertre was in a sarcastic mood. Not I. I was happy. I was impatient to be back with the Group again. “They are, for a fact. Firing like....” The gunner! Come to, has he? This is the first time on board that he has opened his mouth without being spoken to. He took in the whole jaunt without feeling the need of speech. Unless that was he who muttered “Boy! oh, boy!” when the shells were thickest. But you wouldn’t call that blabbing, exactly. He spoke now because machine guns are his specialty—and how can you keep a specialist quiet about his specialty?

Foolproof Get Outta Bed Plan First, figure out the thing you would love to do first each morning. Is it pet your dog, eat a piece of dark chocolate, have your neck massaged, have your back scratched? Whatever will keep those eyes popped open is what you are going to do for yourself the instant you wake up. Next, you are going to keep a journal and pen beside your bed. Write down your intention and reward for the instant your eyes open. “I am going to wake up at [6:00 am]. As soon as I wake up, I am going to [drink an ice-cold glass of water] and then get in my shower.” Modify the parts in brackets with your time and your eye-opener. Finally, this third part only applies if you are a “tough case.” If you know yourself to be truly resistant to waking up, then you need a specialty app. Download an app like Alarmy. It is going to force you to wake up and take a picture of something specific (like your shower) before the alarm will shut off. I know, extreme alarms for extreme snoozers. This three-part process—note something to look forward to, set intention in writing, and use an app/alarm if needed—will work if you have identified a truly rewarding experience for yourself. This is all about your knowledge of yourself and your ability to design a three-part process that will feel like a luxurious reward to you. Maybe I should change mine to fresh-squeezed orange juice. That sounds amazing!

In 1979, Christopher Connolly cofounded a psychology consultancy in the United Kingdom to help high achievers (initially athletes, but then others) perform at their best. Over the years, Connolly became curious about why some professionals floundered outside a narrow expertise, while others were remarkably adept at expanding their careers—moving from playing in a world-class orchestra, for example, to running one. Thirty years after he started, Connolly returned to school to do a PhD investigating that very question, under Fernand Gobet, the psychologist and chess international master. Connolly’s primary finding was that early in their careers, those who later made successful transitions had broader training and kept multiple “career streams” open even as they pursued a primary specialty. They “traveled on an eight-lane highway,” he wrote, rather than down a single-lane one-way street. They had range. The successful adapters were excellent at taking knowledge from one pursuit and applying it creatively to another, and at avoiding cognitive entrenchment. They employed what Hogarth called a “circuit breaker.” They drew on outside experiences and analogies to interrupt their inclination toward a previous solution that may no longer work. Their skill was in avoiding the same old patterns. In the wicked world, with ill-defined challenges and few rigid rules, range can be a life hack. Pretending the world is like golf and chess is comforting. It makes for a tidy kind-world message, and some very compelling books. The rest of this one will begin where those end—in a place where the popular sport is Martian tennis, with a view into how the modern world became so wicked in the first place.

Designori's face had clouded over once more. "Some times," he said resignedly, "it seems to me that we have not only two different languages and ways of expressing ourselves, each of which can only vaguely be translated into the other, but that we are altogether and fundamentally different creatures who can never understand each other. Which of us is really the authentic and integral human being, you or me? Every so often I doubt that either of us is. There were times when I looked up to you members of the Order and Glass Bead Game players with such reverence, such a sense of inferiority, and such envy that you might have been gods or supermen, forever serene, forever playing, forever enjoying your own existences, forever immune to suffering. At other times you seemed to me either pitiable or contemptible, eunuchs, artificially confined to an eternal childhood, child-like and childish in your cool, tightly fenced, neatly tidied playground and kindergarten, where every nose is carefully wiped and every troublesome emotion is soothed, every dangerous thought repressed, where everyone plays nice, safe, bloodless games for a lifetime and every jagged stirring of life, every strong feeling, every genuine passion, every rapture is promptly checked, deflected, and neutralized by meditation therapy. Isn't it artificial, sterilized, didactically pruned world, a mere sham world in which you cravenly vegetate, a world without vices, without passions, without hunger, without sap and salt, a world without family, without mothers, without children, almost without women? The instinctual life is tamed by meditation. For generations you have left to others dangerous, daring, and responsible things like economics, law, and politics. Cowardly and well-protected, fed by others, and having few burdensome duties, you lead your drones' lives, and so that they won't be too boring you busy yourselves with all these erudite specialties, count syllables and letters, make music, and play the Glass Bead Game, while outside in the filth of the world poor harried people live real lives and do real work.

Specialties facilitate commerce, and promote efficiency in the professions, but are often narrowing to individuals. The spirit of the age tends to doom the lawyer to a narrow life of practice, the business man to a mere money-making career.

Mark DeVries observed that the church had become the place where teenagers “are most segregated from the world of adults.”2 Churches had unwittingly cultivated an environment where teenagers were being cut off from the very adult relationships that would sustain them through the turbulence of the adolescent years and by which they could learn about mature Christian faith. We were, in effect, nurturing in teenagers an appetite for a youth group from which they would soon graduate, while weaning them from involvement in the broader church life that would sustain their spiritual growth as adults.

Being cautious is new territory; my specialty was leaping, not looking. These days I pay attention. You can stumble uphill as easily as down. Ice comes in smooth and corrugated. Plastic bags are slippery underfoot. A big dog can knock you to your knees.

Benchmark against the top performing movers and shakers in your game. What are the skills required to achieve excellence in your area of specialty as a leader? How are you managing your vision and mission? Do you demonstrate a life lived with clear goals and targets? How are you providing direction, influence and developing others to lead? What is the evidence of the good leadership of your team?

I stuck with my safe, dependable numbers. They’re my specialty-numbers, formulas, and my beloved equations. I love how they come together, fall into place and work in perfect conjunction with each other. Numbers don’t vary. They don’t stray. If a series of numbers add, or multiply, or subtract a certain way today, they’ll do that over and over again tomorrow, without fail. I try to live my life the same way. I enjoy order. I love the solace that I get from my numbers. I

Special needs foster parents. I happen to think that any foster parents who take in children in need are pretty amazing in their own right. But we have a very special place in our hearts for those people who, for a variety of reasons (be it their calling in life or they have a medical specialty and training) provide homes for children who are developmentally challenged or have special needs.

Through concentrating on a specialty too early in life, a man becomes a kind of useful machine, but not a harmoniously developed personality. It is essential that the student acquire an understanding for, and a lively feeling for values. Otherwise, with his specialized knowledge, he more closely resembles a well-trained

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Humor was his technique to put his patients at ease, a necessity when your specialty involved cutting other men’s scrotums.

Nowaday is too easy to put a foot wrong and it seems that's my specialty. Recently some got uncomfortable about how I perceive our current situation, what they don't know is... that in order to appreciate life you need to contemplate death. Because Death is one of the only certain things in our lives, but we rarely talk or even think about it We are largely shielded from the reality of death until it affects us. And, often, when we do get round to thinking about death, it is with a sense of fear, panic or denial. Guessing not many are able to think about death in a wise way (a critical life skill), as it could enable us to live fuller, better lives.

This theme—cash before all—is also a hoary one. George Gershwin relied on it in his song “Freud and Jung and Adler” for the 1933 musical Pardon My English. In a repeated refrain, the doctors sing that they practice psychoanalysis because it “pays twice as well” as specialties that deal with bodily ailments. Therapists are inherently comical Luftmenschen, impractical, except on this one front. They like their fees. Lucy’s perky insistence about billing gives the five-cents-please strips their final kick.

Chicken Salad à la Danny Kaye YIELD: 4 SERVINGS TO MOST AMERICANS, Danny Kaye is remembered as a splendid comedian and actor. I think of him as a friend and one of the finest cooks I have ever known. In every way, Danny was equal to or better than any trained chef. His technique was flawless. The speed at which he worked was on par with what you’d find in a Parisian brigade de cuisine. Danny taught me a great deal, mostly about Chinese cuisine, his specialty. Whenever I traveled to Los Angeles, Danny picked me up at the airport and took me to his house, where we cooked Chinese or French food. His poached chicken was the best I have ever had. His method was to put the chicken in a small stockpot, cover it with tepid water seasoned with salt, peppercorns, and vegetables, and cook it at a gentle boil for only 10 minutes, then set it aside off the heat for 45 minutes. As an added touch, he always stuck a handful of knives, forks, and spoons into the cavity of the chicken, to keep it submerged. The result is so moist, tender, and flavorful that I have used the recipe—minus the flatware—ever since. CHICKEN 1 chicken, about 3½ pounds ½ cup sliced carrot 1 cup sliced onion 1 small leek, washed and left whole 1 rib celery, washed and left whole 1 teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon black peppercorns 2 sprigs thyme 2 bay leaves About 7 cups tepid water, or more if needed DRESSING 2 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar 1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic ¼ teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper ½ teaspoon Tabasco hot pepper sauce 5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil GARNISHES 1 dozen Boston lettuce leaves, cleaned 2 dozen fresh tarragon leaves FOR THE CHICKEN: Place the chicken breast side down in a tall, narrow pot, so it fits snugly at the bottom. Add the remaining poaching ingredients. The chicken should be submerged, and the water should extend about 1 inch above it. Bring to a gentle boil, cover, and let boil gently for two minutes. Remove the pot from the heat, and set it aside to steep in the hot broth for 45 minutes. Remove the chicken from the pot, and set it aside on a platter to cool for a few minutes. (The stock can be strained and frozen for up to 6 months for use in soup.) Pick the meat from the chicken bones, discarding the skin, bones, and fat. Shred the meat with your fingers, following the grain and pulling it into strips. (The meat tastes better shredded than diced with a knife.) FOR THE DRESSING: Mix together all the dressing ingredients in a bowl large enough to hold the chicken salad. Add the chicken shreds to the dressing and toss well. Arrange the Boston lettuce leaves in a “nest” around the periphery of a platter, and spoon the room-temperature chicken salad into the center. Sprinkle with the tarragon leaves and serve.

Chicken Salad à la Danny Kaye YIELD: 4 SERVINGS TO MOST AMERICANS, Danny Kaye is remembered as a splendid comedian and actor. I think of him as a friend and one of the finest cooks I have ever known. In every way, Danny was equal to or better than any trained chef. His technique was flawless. The speed at which he worked was on par with what you’d find in a Parisian brigade de cuisine. Danny taught me a great deal, mostly about Chinese cuisine, his specialty. Whenever I traveled to Los Angeles, Danny picked me up at the airport and took me to his house, where we cooked Chinese or French food. His poached chicken was the best I have ever had. His method was to put the chicken in a small stockpot, cover it with tepid water seasoned with salt, peppercorns, and vegetables, and cook it at a gentle boil for only 10 minutes, then set it aside off the heat for 45 minutes. As an added touch, he always stuck a handful of knives, forks, and spoons into the cavity of the chicken, to keep it submerged. The result is so moist, tender, and flavorful that I have used the recipe—minus the flatware—ever since. CHICKEN 1 chicken, about 3½ pounds ½ cup sliced carrot 1 cup sliced onion 1 small leek, washed and left whole 1 rib celery, washed and left whole 1 teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon black peppercorns 2 sprigs thyme 2 bay leaves About 7 cups tepid water, or more if needed DRESSING 2 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar 1 teaspoon finely chopped garlic ¼ teaspoon salt ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper ½ teaspoon Tabasco hot pepper sauce 5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

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So, you took a break from work?” “Yes. Just a leave of absence. I’m too good at my job for them to let me go for very long, but I have a lot of accumulated time owed to me. I told them I was taking it one way or the other. Honestly, I’ve been searching for a change for a while, I think. Talking to the guys at Harmony House inspired me to start thinking about a new specialty. I don’t know yet.” She waved her hands in frustration. “I’m hungry, you know? But it may not just be the job. I had a taste of something special with you and it made me want more.” In spite of himself, Duncan grinned. “I guess I’m kind of sorry I disrupted your life then.” Alex laughed. “I can tell you are.

Home Economics & Civics What ever happened to the two courses that were cornerstone programs of public education? For one, convenience foods made learning how to cook seem irrelevant. Home Economics was also gender driven and seemed to stratify women, even though most well paid chefs are men. Also, being considered a dead-end high school program, in a world that promotes continuing education, it has waned in popularity. With both partners in a marriage working, out of necessity or choice, career-minded couples would rather go to a restaurant or simply micro-burn a frozen pre-prepared food packet. Almost anybody that enjoys the preparation of food can make a career of it by going to a specialty school such as the Culinary Institute of America along the Hudson River in Hyde Park, New York. Also, many colleges now have programs that are directed to those that are interested in cooking as a career. However, what about those that are looking to other career paths but still have a need to effectively run a household? Who among us is still concerned with this mundane but necessary avocation that so many of us are involved with? Public Schools should be aware that the basic requirements to being successful in life include how to balance and budget a checking and a savings account. We should all be able to prepare a wholesome, nutritious and delicious meal, make a bed and clean up behind one’s self, not to mention taking care of children that may become a part of the family structure. Now, note that this has absolutely nothing to do with politics and is something that members of all parties can use. Civics is different and is deeply involved in politics and how our government works. However, it doesn’t pick sides…. What it does do is teach young people the basics of our democracy. Teaching how our Country developed out of the fires of a revolution, fought out of necessity because of the imposing tyranny of the British Crown is central. How our “Founding Fathers” formed this union with checks and balances, allowing us to live free, is imperative. Unfortunately not enough young people are sufficiently aware of the sacrifices made, so that we can all live free. During the 1930’s, most people understood and believed it was important that we live in and preserve our democracy. People then understood what Patrick Henry meant when in 1776 he proclaimed “Give me liberty or give me death.” During the 1940’s, we fought a great war against Fascist dictatorships. A total of sixty million people were killed during that war, which amounted to 3% of everyone on the planet. If someone tells us that there is not enough money in the budget, or that Civic courses are not necessary or important, they are effectively undermining our Democracy. Having been born during the great Depression of the 1930’s, and having lived and lost family during World War II, I understand the importance of having Civics taught in our schools. Our country and our way of life are all too valuable to be squandered because of ignorance. Over 90 million eligible voters didn’t vote in the 2016 presidential election. This means that 40% of our fellow citizens failed to exercise their right to vote! Perhaps they didn’t understand their duty or how vital their vote is. Perhaps it’s time to reinvigorate what it means to be a patriotic citizen. It’s definitely time to reinstitute some of the basic courses that teach our children how our American way of life works. Or do we have to relive history again?

A man who might have been symmetrical, well-rounded, had he availed himself of every opportunity of touching life along all sides, remains a pygmy in everything except his own little specialty, because he did not cultivate his social side. It

One can not deny this merit to the Japanese—a great love for little children, and a talent for amusing them, for making them laugh, inventing comical toys for them, making the morning of their life happy; for a specialty in dressing them, arranging their heads, and giving to the whole personage the most fascinating appearance possible. It is the only thing I really like about this country: the babies and the manner in which they are understood.

One can not deny this merit to the Japanese—a great love for little children, and a talent for amusing them, for making them laugh, inventing comical toys for them, making the morning of their life happy; for a specialty in dressing them, arranging their heads, and giving to the whole personage the most fascinating appearance possible. It is the only thing I really like about this country: the babies and the manner in which they are understood. On our way we meet our married friends of the Triomphante, who, much surprised at seeing me with this mousko, jokingly exclaim: "What! a son already?

You can use words to manipulate the world into delivering what you want. This is what it means to “act politically.” This is spin. It’s the specialty of unscrupulous marketers, salesmen, advertisers, pickup artists, slogan-possessed utopians and psychopaths

Braised Striped Bass Pavillon YIELD: 4 SERVINGS I HAD NEVER SEEN or tasted striped bass before I worked at Le Pavilion. It is similar, however, to the loup de mer of the Mediterranean, one of the most prized fish of that region and a standard menu item in restaurants along the Côte d’Azur. With flesh that is slightly softer and moister than its European cousin, striped bass was a specialty of Le Pavilion. The braised wild striped bass would be presented to the patrons whole and carved at tableside. The following is a simple, elegant, and mouth-watering adaptation of the recipe from Le Pavilion. The fish, gutted with head on, is braised with white wine, shallots, and mushrooms in the oven, then coated with the cooking juices enriched with butter. This dish is excellent served with tiny steamed potatoes or sautéed cucumbers. 1 striped bass, gutted, with head on (about 3 pounds) 2 cups thinly sliced mushrooms ¼ cup chopped shallots ½ teaspoon salt, plus more to taste ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste 1 tablespoon good olive oil 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves 2 bay leaves 1 cup dry, fruity white wine (Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc) 8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice 1 tablespoon minced fresh chives Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the fish in a gratin dish or stainless steel baking dish that is narrow enough to prevent the garnishes and the wine from spreading out too much. Sprinkle with the mushrooms, shallots, ½ teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon pepper, olive oil, thyme, bay leaves, and wine. Cover tightly with a piece of aluminum foil so the fish will cook in its own steam. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the fish is cooked through. Check by inserting the point of a small knife into the flesh. It should be tender, and the flesh should separate from the central bone when pierced with the knife. Reduce the heat to 150 degrees. Using a large hamburger spatula, transfer the whole fish to an ovenproof serving platter, and set aside in the warm oven while you complete the recipe. Pour the fish’s cooking juices and vegetable solids into a small saucepan, and discard the bay leaves. You should have ¾ to 1 cup of liquid; cook down the liquid or add water to adjust the yield to this amount. Bring to a boil on top of the stove, and add the butter spoonful by spoonful, incorporating each piece into the mixture with a whisk before you add another. Remove the saucepan from the heat, and add the lemon juice, chives, and additional salt and pepper to taste. At serving time, pull or scrape off the skin on top of the fish with a small paring knife. Coat the fish with the sauce, and sprinkle the chives on top. Bring to the table, and carve for the guests.

God’s specialty is raising dead things to life and making impossible things possible.

You do not have the requisite Tier, skills, or Specialty to harvest from this creature. In order to gather from a corpse, you must be the same Tier as it was in life, possess a minimum Craft or relevant secondary skill score based on the creature’s Tier, or have a relevant Specialty component.

But that wasn't what scared me; what scared me was that suddenly I knew for certain that the gigantic press before me was sounding the knell of all smaller presses, I saw that all this meant a new era in my specialty, that these people were different and their habits different. Gone were the days of small joys, of finds, of books thrown away by mistake: these people represented a new way of thinking. Even if each of the workers took home one book from each printing as payment in kind, it wouldn't be the same, it would still be the end of us, the old guard, because we were all educated unwittingly: each of us had a decent home library of books we'd happened to rescue, and each of us read those books in the blissful hope of making a change in his life.

75% of people who recover from alcohol dependence do so without seeking any kind of help, including specialty alcohol rehab programs and A.A.174

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People think it’s a fortune, but they don’t reckon on, well, it’s not pensionable, there’s all the medical expenses, you’ve got to buy and maintain your own gear—‘ ‘—wear and tear on virgins—‘ nodded a small fat hunter. ‘Yeah, and then there’s…what?’ ‘My specialty is unicorns,’ the hunter explained, with an embarrassed smile. ‘Oh, right.’ The first speaker looked like someone who’d always been dying to ask this question. ‘I thought they were very rare these days.’ ‘You’re right there. You don’t see many unicorns, either,’ said the unicorn hunter. Vimes got the impression that, in his whole life, this was his only joke.

One boy named Alex has been dancing pretty much his entire life and was probably the best dancer in the whole school. When he was younger, he said the other kids bullied him and called him a girl, as well as a heap of horrible names he really didn’t want to mention. But I could see that most kids had since developed considerable respect for Alex. Those who were still unaware of his talents were in for a big surprise. Hip-hop was his specialty, and he was very cool to watch. I kept telling him that when he was old enough, he should audition for ‘So You Think You Can Dance.’ He said he’d really like to do that at some point.

Notice the types of temptations the masters faced. The first attack by the devil played on Jesus’s hunger. Mara presented the Buddha with his fears—everything that is going wrong. “The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” as Shakespeare put it. That’s the DMN’s specialty: dredging up everything that has gone wrong in your past or might go wrong in your future. That’s the first way the demon tries to tempt you out of Bliss Brain. Then the demon presented Buddha with every possible variant of sexual and sensual pleasure. The devil offered Jesus all the wonders of the world. That’s another way the demon tries to distract us out of focus. All the good things we might experience. If presenting you with all your fears fails, then presenting you with all your desires might succeed. There’s a final way the demon can yank us out of single-minded attention to focus. The brains of meditating monks show enormous amplitudes of gamma brain waves, about which we’ll learn more in Chapter 4. Gamma is the wave of insight and integration. In Bliss Brain, we have flashes of unparalleled insight. It’s a creative brainstorm. You get downloads of brilliant blog posts you could write, extraordinary art you could paint, scientific breakthroughs you could achieve, marketing magic you might create, and life circumstances you might enjoy. Yet going down these rabbit holes can be as much of a distraction as your fears and desires. It’s all about me. My safety, my pleasure, my body, my money, my health, my love life, my career. Of all the streaming video series our minds could tune in to, the Me Show is the most compelling. It’s the demon’s ultimate weapon of mass distraction. To reach and sustain Bliss Brain, it’s essential to do what the Buddha and Jesus did: remain in one-pointed focus.

[...] For me Mr. Madani was a lesson in how peculiar medicine can be. It is a place where we fool ourselves into thinking that we can somehow get out of life alive and where dialysis is a means to no end. It is a place where the teaching of dialysis practice becomes more permissive within a two-year fellowship stint, more variable from nephrologist to nephrologist. Dialysis has gone from a miracle to something mundane but to be avoided at all costs to the thing we Americans-no matter if rich or poor, Black, Brown, Yellow, or White-cling to, because it holds the promise of more time. We-providers across specialties, patients, and families-begin to expect it, feel entitled to it, demand it, and we won't let go of it, even when it doesn't make sense, even when all it really guarantees is more suffering.

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In the Western world…disease is very compartmentalized by organs or medical specialties, and in some ways this does not benefit the patient. Specialists often don’t look outside their own parameters to see what else might be influencing an illness. A Navajo healer…will look at the person’s whole life and the lives of those around him or her…The Navajo view is a macro view, whereas Western medicine often takes a micro view.

There are some great dancers in our grade; even some of the boys are particularly good. One boy named Alex has been dancing pretty much his entire life and is probably the best dancer in the whole school. When he was younger, he said that the other kids had bullied him and called him a girl as well as a heap of horrible names that he really didn’t want to mention. But I could see that everyone had finally developed a huge amount of respect for Alex and those who were still unaware of his talents were in for a big surprise. Hip hop is his specialty and he’s so cool to watch. I kept telling him that when he’s old enough, he should audition for “So You Think You Can Dance” and he told me that he’d really like to. As well as Alex, there’s another kid in our grade who is kind of overweight and dorky looking. But it turns out that he has an awesome voice. I had no idea that our school has so much talent and it certainly came as a huge surprise to find out that Liam can actually sing really well. The look of amazement when we heard his audition pretty much spread like wild fire. I even caught the teachers raising their eyebrows in astonishment. It just goes to show you that you can’t judge a book by its cover! I never really understood what that meant until hearing Liam sing. Now, I don’t think I’ll ever look at him in the same way again. It’s also a really big lesson for me. From now on, I will never judge a person by their looks alone. I’ll wait till I get to know them because I’ve found out that until you do get to know people, you really don’t know what type of person they are or what hidden talents they might have. Anyway, the musical was shaping up to be a huge success. The dance troupe we had put together was really coming along and we rehearsed during every lunch break and sometimes even after school. Then one afternoon, an amazing thing happened; Blake Jansen, who I’ve had a secret crush on since the fourth grade, turned up at rehearsals with his friend, Jack.

Since the rise of the modern university, knowledge has advanced without soul, becoming power without aim. The modern university has become an obstacle to the universe, that is, integral wholeness, insofar as it does not educate us humans to bear the universe in our beings or a consciousness that the universe bears us in its being. Merton writes: “It mass produces uneducated graduates who are unfit for anything except to take part in an elaborate and complete artificial charade which they call ‘life.’”18 Instead of education for the flourishing of life’s wholeness, we educate to disconnect and die. Our universities have become fragmented silos of specialties where no two people speak the same language on any given day. Students are encouraged to succeed in their studies, not to contemplate truth, as if success is the goal of study. If contemporary education is failing the cosmos, it is because we have lost the integral relationship between living and loving. Unless we change the way we think, we will not change the way we act. Our mechanized world of mechanized systems with mechanized humans can no longer continue. We are fragmenting fast. The beginning of a sustainable future must begin with the integral knowledge of God, self, and cosmos.

Art in its essence is a dreamy vocation.

Neha. This name is special. Her specialty lied in her talking. According to her boss, her negotiation skill was best & he took her on his head for that skill. I learnt a big lesson in life that growth comes with results. So many times I was compared & demeaned, but I was just cried in kindness & let it go with smile.

Hayakawa asked Carter questions about his book and the nuances of semantics, his specialty. Could any other American president have stayed awake to read the book, much less answer the questions to the senator’s satisfaction? Carter did.

The importance of knowing how to study is evident when we realize that the amount of knowledge that a student can acquire in college, compared with the whole mass of human knowledge, even that bearing upon a single specialty, is entirely insignificant; and furthermore, that a student is generally quite unable to foresee with any degree of correctness what his work in life will be. Unless, therefore, his education has enabled him to take up a new subject or a new problem and to study and master it himself—that is to say, unless he has learned how to study, how to use his mind properly and to direct it efficiently upon the subject in hand—his education may have benefited him little and may not have fitted him for the career in which he finally finds himself.

Whilst personal effectiveness focuses more on your personal development goals as you become the best practitioner in your area of specialty; leadership excellence shifts the focus to your leadership development in making a difference to the greater circle within your areas of influence and beyond. Leadership excellence focuses on areas of concern on behalf of others because a leader is expected to grow from personal effectiveness to begin making a significant impact on the world around them.

To succeed and create change, you must be willing to take the risk, with an understanding of a number of key elements. Please begin to understand that an entrepreneurial spirit is not only essential in business enterprise. We all have a business to run in our different areas of specialty. Your life is your business and your family is your business – you have multiple businesses.

There is need to focus on selling an emotional experience instead of a mere product or service - the impression you make on others must be lasting and permanent. These experiences have to be positive and worth remembering. This will increase the chances of repeat business and referrals, guaranteeing customer loyalty. And that is what sustains businesses, brands and careers for generations! The principle remains the same for comedians, actors, footballers, musicians, sales executives or any other area of specialty.

SEPTEMBER 5 He demonstrated this power in the Messiah by raising Him from the dead and seating Him at His right hand in the heavens. Ephesians 1:20 God exerts an incomparable power in the lives of those who continue believing Him. Nothing on earth compares to the strength God is willing to interject into lives caught in the act of believing. Can you think of any need you might have that would require more strength than God exerted when He raised His Son from the dead? Me neither. He can raise marriages from the dead and restore life and purpose to those who have given up. He can forgive and purify the vilest sinner. God’s specialty is raising dead things to life and making impossible things possible.

Driving toward Gillette on Route 59 north of Bill, Wyoming, Tom Carson felt alien in the rolling landscape. Pronghorn antelope appeared here and there in the hills, grazing in herds, strung out along a stream drinking. Buffalo grazed too in the gently undulant pastures. They weren’t wild herds, he knew. They were ranch buffalo, healthful, destined to be slaughtered and sold in specialty stores. He’d never been anywhere very much until he moved to Wyoming. Lived all his life in Paradise, and his parents too. His mother taught seventh grade at Paradise Junior High. His father ran the Gulf station. The only gas station in the downtown area. He had no military experience. He hadn’t gone to college. He’d joined the cops after working three years for his father. The

The meat section is mostly devoted to presliced meats for hot pots and quick-cooked dishes, with a thin steak or chop here and there. In addition to commodity meat, you'll find Wagyu beef and kurobuta pork. The quality of the meat in an average Tokyo supermarket is higher than at most specialty butchers in the U.S. Time to fess up. Life Supermarket is not the best supermarket in the world; every supermarket in Tokyo is the best supermarket in the world. I haven't even gotten to the prepared food (two different yakitori sections, reheatable fried foods that stay crunchy, and lots of appealing salads and cooked vegetables).

Go deep into a specialty. Get a customer. Make them happy. Then repeat…

Amy quickly looked away from the guy. She had got to stop reading romantic novels where the unexpected romance was a specialty.

The grocery list is dedicated to items available at the grocery store that I visit on a weekly basis and that I have carefully chosen based on its bulk selection, location, and on-premise bakery. When we want to get something from another store, we write it on the errands list. By the time I leave for my weekly shopping, I have typically found alternatives, or simply eliminated the need to buy many items on the list. I also use the errands list to jot down such things as donation drop-offs or “specialty bulk” items.

People forget that saffron is the backbone of a flower," he said, still sniffing. "They get so preoccupied with saffron's cost that they forget what saffron really is." "My boyfriend used to study crocuses in college," I said, unsure where the conversation was going, but determined to set it on stable ground. 'He harvested the strands for a pilot dining hall program, but gave me the best ones to cook with." "A match made in heaven." "Yeah," I said. "He's great..." But we weren't here to discuss my love life. What were we here to discuss? "And what did you make with the saffron?" Michael Saltz asked. "My specialty is a rice stew with ginger and flounder." He had brought the conversation back to food and I felt more at ease. "Like a paella?" "No, not like a paella. I don't use shellfish, because..." "Oh, right, allergic! Yes, how could I forget?" He had an excellent memory. Or maybe just for me. "It has an Asian flair," I continued. "The saffron adds a taste of the sun. You have the pillowy sea element of the flounder and the earthiness of the rice, and I think the farminess of the saffron- that rustic, rough flavor- brings the dish together.

I have a knack for fucking people’s lives up who love me and who I love back. It’s my specialty.” “That’s not true. You’re looking at it wrong. I love you and you’ve done nothing but make my life better.