Stain Removal Quotes

I should open up a dry cleaners/pizza parlor. Extra Stain Sauce will be free, but removing it out of your clothes will cost you.

The real dirt is not outside, but inside, in our hearts. We can wash all stains with water. The only one we can’t remove is the grudge and the bad intentions sticking to our hearts.

Death isn't enough. It doesn't remove the stain. But a slap, a whiplash, square on the face, does. Because a man's face is as sacred as his mother or his wife.

An oncology ward is a battlefield, and there are definite hierarchies of command. The patients, they're the ones doing the tour of duty. The doctors breeze in and out like conquering heroes, but they need to read your child's chart to remember where they've left off from the previous visit. It is the nurses who are the seasoned sergeants -- the ones who are there when your baby is shaking with such a high fever she needs to be bathed in ice, the ones who can teach you how to flush a central venous catheter, or suggest which patient floor might still have Popsicles left to be stolen, or tell you which dry cleaners know how to remove the stains of blood and chemotherapies from clothing. The nurses know the name of your daughter's stuffed walrus and show her how to make tissue paper flowers to twine around her IV stand. The doctors may be mapping out the war games, but it is the nurses who make the conflict bearable.

Pinkerton's Champion Stain Remover and Paragon Detergent

For You" For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves. I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand, I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on a chair. I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine. I spill without staining, and leave without stirring the air. I do it for love. For love, I disappear.

The blood-stain has been much admired by tourists and others, and cannot be removed." "That is all nonsense," cried Washington Otis; "Pinkerton's Champion Stain Remover and Paragon Detergent will clean it up in no time," and before the terrified housekeeper could interfere, he had fallen upon his knees, and was rapidly scouring the floor with a small stick of what looked like a black cosmetic. In a few moments no trace of the blood-stain could be seen.

The real dirt is not outside, but inside, in our hearts. We can wash all stains with water. The only one we can't remove is the grudge and the bad intentions sticking to our hearts.

actions on a loop. Change the diaper. Make the formula. Warm the bottle. Pour the Cheerios. Wipe up the mess. Negotiate. Beg. Change his sleeper. Get her clothes out. Where’s the lunch box? Bundle them up. Walk. Faster. We’re late. Hug her good-bye. Push the swing. Find the lost mitten. Rub the pinched finger. Give him a snack. Get another bottle. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Put him in the crib. Clean. Tidy. Find. Make. Defrost the chicken. Get him up from the crib. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Change his diaper. Put him in the high chair. Clean up his face. Wash the dishes. Tickle. Change the diaper. Tickle. Put the snacks in a baggie. Start the washing machine. Bundle him up. Buy diapers. And dish soap. Race for pickup. Hello, hello! Hurry, hurry. Unbundle. Laundry in the dryer. Turn on her show. Time-out. Please. Listen to my words. No! Stain remover. Diaper. Dinner. Dishes. Answer the question again and again. Run the bath. Take off their clothes.

I was a soldier, executing a series of physical actions on a loop. Change the diaper. Make the formula. Warm the bottle. Pour the Cheerios. Wipe up the mess. Negotiate. Beg. Change his sleeper. Get her clothes out. Where’s the lunch box? Bundle them up. Walk. Faster. We’re late. Hug her good-bye. Push the swing. Find the lost mitten. Rub the pinched finger. Give him a snack. Get another bottle. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Put him in the crib. Clean. Tidy. Find. Make. Defrost the chicken. Get him up from the crib. Kiss, kiss, kiss. Change his diaper. Put him in the high chair. Clean up his face. Wash the dishes. Tickle. Change the diaper. Tickle. Put the snacks in a baggie. Start the washing machine. Bundle him up. Buy diapers. And dish soap. Race for pickup. Hello, hello! Hurry, hurry. Unbundle. Laundry in the dryer. Turn on her show. Time-out. Please. Listen to my words. No! Stain remover. Diaper. Dinner. Dishes. Answer the question again and again. Run the bath. Take off their clothes. Wipe up the floor. Are you listening? Brush teeth. Find Benny the Bunny. Put on pajamas. Nurse. A story. Another story. Keep going, keep going, keep going.

And who is to say this afterimage is not equally real? Indigo makes its stain not in the dyeing vat, but after the garment has been removed. It is the oxygen of the air that blues it.

Yes, madam,” replied the old housekeeper in a low voice, “blood has been spilt on that spot.” “How horrid,” cried Mrs. Otis; “I don’t at all care for blood-stains in a sitting-room. It must be removed at once.

It may be that actual tears have stained the tile floors or soaked into the carpets of such places. It may be that these tears can never be removed. And everywhere the odor of melancholy, that is the very odor of memory.

Unfortunately, stain removal methods was one of those troublesome subjects somewhere between relationship issues and mysterious car noises. Everybody was an expert, everybody had a cure, and they all fell over themselves to offer their advice.

Unfortunately, stain removal methods was one of those troublesome subjects somewhere between relationship issues and mysterious car noises. Everybody was an expert, everybody had a cure, and they all fell over themselves to offer their advice.

Now, tell me, my dear, I said, what are you crying about? About the years that are gone, Mr. Betteredge," says Rosanna quietly. My past life still comes back to me sometimes. Come, come, my girl, I said, your past life is all sponged out. Why can't you forget it? "She took me by one of the lappets of my coat. I am a slovenly old man, and a good deal of my meat and drink gets splashed about on my clothes. Sometimes one of the women, and sometimes another, cleans me of my grease. The day before, Roseanna had taken out a spot for me on the lappet of my coat, with a new composition, warranted to remove anything. The grease was gone, but there was a little dull place left on the nap of the cloth where the grease had been. The girl pointed to that place, and shook here head. The stain is taken off, she said. But the place shows, Mr. Betteredge--the place shows!

Removing the thought about the rotten feather, for now, Yuan calms his core, inhaling prana—the source energy from air. The animal’s wound healing. All the rabbits turn their necks now, watching him. At last, he deserves attention. They run to the Monk; jumping; climbing along the layered folds of his dark shawl; settling on his lap, thighs, and shoulders; competing with one another for the healing energy; seeking a share of the purity coming from the highest possible evolution in the universe. A monk’s purity procured through strict abstention won’t stain. Even a dead bird’s foul feather can’t tinge it.

Then you clean it up! I’m sick of cleaning it and having you come in and mess it up again,’ Hud would say. ‘I’m not your maid.’ ‘You are, though,’ Jay would say. ‘Just like I’m the fluff and fold around here.’ Jay was in charge of the laundry. He handled his sisters’ underwear and bathing suits with chopsticks, unwilling to touch them whether they were clean or dirty. But Jay quickly became a wiz at stain removal, each mark a puzzle to solve. He threw himself into searching the right combination of liquids that would unlock the dirt from Kit’s soccer shorts. He found the golden ticket by asking an older woman in the laundry aisle what she did to get out grass stains. Turned out it was Fels-Naptha. Worked like a charm. ‘Look at this, motherfucker!’ Jay called out to the rest of the house one day from the garage. ‘Good as fucking new!’ Kit peeked her head in to see her white shorts bright as the sun, unblemished. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Maybe you can open Riva’s Laundry.

If you remove the bloody floorboards and water-stained tiles; if you destroy the beams that held Robert Carterhook's body, and you tear down the walls that absorbed the screams, do you take down the house? Can it be haunted if the actual guts - its internal organs - have been removed? Or does the nastiness linger in the air?

Shame ruptures our connection with life and with our soul. It is, indeed, a sickness of the soul. When feelings of shame arise, we pull back from the world, avoiding contact that could cause or risk exposure. The last thing we want in times of excruciating self-consciousness is to be seen. We find ourselves avoiding the gaze of others, we become silent and withdrawn, all in hopes of slipping under the radar. I remember sharing with the audience that the goal of the shame-bound person was to get from birth to death without ever being an echo on the radar of life. My tombstone was going to read “Safe at Last.” Gershon Kaufman, one of the most important writers on shame, has said that shame leaves us feeling “unspeakably and irreparably defective.”29 It is unspeakable because we do not want anyone to know how we feel inside. We fear it is irreparable because we think it is not something we have done wrong—it is simply who we are. We cannot remove the stain from our core. We search and search for the defect, hoping that that, once found, it can be exorcised like some grotesque demon. But it lingers, remaining there our entire lives, anxious that it will be seen and simultaneously longing to be seen and touched with compassion.

I never thought to ask her name, Father, but you know the little mulberry girl as you know each sparrow of the field. You are the white berry that removes the stain.

Pain like that stays with you; it seeps out of your pores and into the fibres of your clothes, and nothing can remove the stain of a soul.

I was just trying to remove a stain; I made a bigger stain.

Criminality, once it touched black life, was a stain hard to remove.

It was a summer of trying not to think too deeply. A summer of pretending that the end wasn't coming. A summer when I got lost in time, when I rarely knew what day it was, rarely cared about the hour. A summer so bright and warm it made me believe the heat would linger, that there would always be more days, that blood on handkerchiefs was an exercise in stain removal and not a sign of oblivion.

As I reach my thirtieth year of service as a butler in a gentleman’s household, I find myself looking back. Between my secret recipe for boot blacking (an indispensable tool for a butler), and a vastly superior method to remove wine stains from velvet (which some will erroneously hold to be an impossibility), I find my memories salted with some faint wisdoms, a few tested experiences, and many, many interesting stories.

While he watched the far-removed landscape a tawny stain grew into being on the lower verge--the eclipse had begun. This marked a preconcerted moment--for the remote celestial phenomenon had been pressed into sublunary service as a lover's signal. Yeobright's mind flew back to earth at the sight; he arose, shook himself and listened. Minute after minute passed by, perhaps ten minutes passed, and the shadow on the moon perceptibly widened. He heard a rustling on his left hand, a cloaked figure with an upturned face appeared at the base of the Barrow, and Clym descended. In a moment the figure was in his arms, and his lips upon hers.

Blood stains are not easy to remove. Yes, and they will enter the rooms and see my bedding. Perhaps a young girl will fit into my daughter’s clothes. Or it’ll all be a waste because they too lost a young daughter in the vadda raula. These clothes will haunt them. They will want to go back. How crazy! I don’t want to be here and they don’t want to be there. They can’t be here and I can’t be there. How absurd! It is like someone just did it in jest. What value does my life have? Zilch. Nobody thought of this? They live with my nightmares, I live with theirs. And then learn to ignore these sounds I hear from the crevices of the new house. Each night I plug my ears and shut my eyes. A new story over my story. The slate has been wiped clean. With blood.

Under our infamous laws the seducer is not punished, and is not even disgraced, but his victim and all her family and kindred are smirched with a stain which is permanent—a stain which the years cannot remove, nor even modify. Our laws break the hearts and ruin the lives of the victim and of her people, and let the seducer go free. I am not of a harsh nature—I am the reverse of that—and yet if I could have my way the seducer should be flayed alive in the middle of the public plaza, with all the world to look on.

You know, we still have like, half an hour down here. Seems a shame to waste it.” I poked him in the ribs, and he gave an exaggerated wince. “No way, dude. My days of cellar, mill, and dungeon lovin’ are over. Go castle or go home.” “Fair enough,” he said as we interlaced our fingers and headed for the stairs. “But does it have to be a real castle, or would one of those inflatable bouncy things work?” I laughed. “Oh, inflatable castles are totally out of-“ I skidded to a stop on the first step, causing Archer to bump into me. “What the heck is that?” I asked, pointing to a dark stain in the nearest corner. “Okay, number one question you don’t want to hear in a creepy cellar,” Archer sad, but I ignored him and stepped off the staircase. The stain bled out from underneath the stone wall, covering maybe a foot of the dirt floor. It looked black and vaguely…sticky. I swallowed my disgust as I knelt down and gingerly touched the blob with one finger. Archer crouched down next to me and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a lighter, and after a few tries, a wavering flame sprung up. We studied my fingertip in the dim glow. “So that’s-“ “It’s blood, yeah,” I said, not taking my eyes off my hand. “Scary.” “I was gonna go with vile, but scary works.” Archer fished in his pockets again, and this time he produced a paper napkin. I took it from him and gave Lady Macbeth a run for her money in the hand-scrubbing department. But even as I attempted to remove a layer of skin from my finger, something was bugging me. I mean, something other than the fact that I’d just touched a puddle of blood. “Check the other corners,” I told Archer. He stood up and moved across the room. I stayed where I was, trying to remember that afternoon Dad and I had sat with the Thorne family grimoire. We’d looked at dozens of spells, but there had been one- “There’s blood in every corner,” Archer called from the other side of the cellar. “Or at least that’s what I’m guessing it is. Unlike some people, I don’t have the urge to go sticking my fingers in it.

It looks as though your shop is doing well,” Luka said, gazing around. “Could you help me find a gift for a lady friend of mine?” My heart plunged to my green satin slippers, and I had to stare down at Azarte for a minute, petting him hard. Naturally Luka had a “lady friend.” She was probably nobly born: the daughter of a count or a duke. I imagined her having thick dark hair and clear skin, and was bitterly jealous. “Of c-course,” I stammered after a time. “What would she like? A gown? A sash?” If she came in for a fitting, I decided to “accidentally” poke her with every pin. “Hmm, well, she is wearing a lovely gown today,” he said. “Although no sash.” So. He’d already seen her today, and it was not yet noon. I rubbed Azarte’s ears furiously. “What color is her gown?” “It’s sort of green, with more green, and the design looks like stained glass windows,” he said. “It’s very beautiful, like her.” I stopped petting the dog and looked up at him, not sure what I was hearing. “Oh?” My heart thumped painfully. “Yes, so perhaps she doesn’t need a sash after all. No sense gilding the lily.” He gave a melancholy sigh. “But I really would love to give her a very special gift. I was hoping if I did, she might give me a kiss in return, instead of the brotherly hugs I always get instead.” I raised my eyebrows, trying for casual interest even though I could feel my pulse beating in the blood rushing to my cheeks. “I know!” Luka snapped his fingers. “Forget a sash. I’ll give her this!” And with a flourish, he pulled a roll of parchment from his belt pouch. More confused than ever, I unrolled the paper and read. It was a letter from a priest in the Southern Counties, addressed to King Caxel. In it the priest begged for a grant of money. They had recently built a large chapel, the finest that had ever been dedicated to the Triune Gods in that region, and it had only been completed the year before. “But we do need another grant from the crown,” the priest wrote. “For a most heinous act of vandalism has taken place. Our rose-glass window, which illuminates the Triple Altar in glorious colors pleasing to the gods, has been stolen. It was removed from its frame the night before last, and not a pane of it can be found.” “Shardas?” I looked up at Luka with my eyes brimming. “Shardas!” “I have a pair of horses waiting outside,” Luka said. “We can be at Feniul’s cave by nightfall.” I threw my arms around him again, and this time I gave him the kiss he’d been waiting for.

Diversity is not an accident or a problem ; it is a sign of God’s providence and promise. If the church gets this wrong, it is not just getting race and ethnic difference wrong. It is getting the gospel wrong . We cannot obey the Great Commission without celebrating the glory of the new humanity only Christ can create.

‪If only because there is so much to know in our human universe, the working assumption you can go on is: You may assume, about absolutely any fact (how many transuranic elements are there? why does cold water remove human blood stains faster than hot?) that nine hundred and ninety-nine people out of a thousand do NOT know it- which goes for the working assumption too.

For You" For you I undress down to the sheaths of my nerves. I remove my jewelry and set it on the nightstand, I unhook my ribs, spread my lungs flat on a chair. I dissolve like a remedy in water, in wine. I spill without staining, and leave without stirring the air. I do it for love. For love, I disappear. Kim Addonizio, , Lucifer at the Starlight. (W.W. Norton and Co., 2009)

Clean and Healthy Teeth   Apple cider vinegar is also known to clean and remove stains from your teeth.  Before you try to use bleach to whiten your teeth, first try apple cider vinegar.  You can apply some apple cider vinegar directly to your toothbrush and brush the stains.  Rinse and you should have nice white teeth.  Apple cider vinegar will also break down plaque and fight bacteria in your gums and teeth.

The mind is stirred up by ideas, which are like chaff. It is agitated by distractions, which are like the gusting wind. Thus there is no access to this nature. But if you rest correctly in the pure accomplished mind Beyond arriving and departing, Whence there’s nothing to remove, To which there’s nothing to be added; If you rest in primal wisdom All-creating, free from stain, You will behold this nature as it is.

Honor violence is a set of enforcement measures used to uphold the modesty doctrine. Girls and women who step out of line face injury and even murder at the hands of relatives if they drift too far toward emancipation. So-called honor killing is meant to remove a stain on a family’s honor caused by real or alleged sexual misconduct. In Western countries, the victims of honor violence also include Sikh, Hindu, and Kurdish women, but most appear to be Muslim.

Marlboro Man and I settled in together, soaking up the first days of married life on the ranch that was my new home. He spent his days working cattle; his evenings figuring out the business ramifications of the imploding financial situation in which he and Tim now found themselves. I, on the other hand, spent my days getting organized and washing his muddy clothes, failing miserably in my attempts to remove the greenish brown manure stains and making plans instead to order a hundred pairs of the jeans he wore so I could replace them every day. I saw no other alternative.

In a city of almost three million people, a white van stands out about as much as a pigeon in a park. White vans deliver flowers, they carry plumbers, and boxes destined for front porches. This white van is unlike the rest; it has been customized. The flooring has been torn up and replaced with sheets of steel, powder-coated with black paint so they won’t rust or show stains. Metal drains have been installed, complete with catches, drilled in three separate places for easy maintenance and cleaning. There are thick metal eyebolts fastened into the frame in several spots, impossible to remove, at various heights up and down the walls. The gas tank is a custom installation, almost double the normal size, holding up to thirty gallons of gas, which means that it can drive for almost six hundred miles, to St. Louis and back, without running out of fuel. It can also cruise the dark streets all night long—for days, even weeks—before finally becoming empty, frequent gas station stops to be avoided. And the windows are tinted black, illegal of course, but hardly drawing any attention, so dark that even standing up next to them, it’s impossible to see inside. And for the driver, that’s a good thing—a very good thing, indeed.

Every great corporation does one thing well, and in Marriott’s case it’s to help guests disappear. The indistinct architecture, the average service, the room-temperature, everything. You’re gone, blended away by the stain-disguising carpet patterns, the art that soothes you even when your back’s turned. And you don’t even miss yourself, that’s Marriott’s great discovery. Invisibility, the ideal vacation. No more anxiety about your role, your place. Rest here, under our cloak. Don’t fidget, it's just your face that we’re removing. You won’t be needing it until you leave, and here’s a claim check. Don’t worry if you lose it.

If sin is anything that separates us from God and from each other; and if God is to be “all in all,” then he must sooner or later destroy all sin and thus remove every stain from his creation. According to the New Testament as a whole, God has a two-fold strategy, I want to suggest, for accomplishing this end. On the one hand, he sent his Son in the flesh to defeat, in some unexplained mystical way, the powers of darkness and to pioneer the way of salvation (see Heb 2:10)—a way of repentance, forgiveness, and personal sacrifice. On the other hand, for those who refuse to step into his ordained system of repentance, forgiveness, and personal sacrifice, he has an alternative strategy: in their estrangement from God, they will experience his love as a consuming fire; that is, as wrath, as punishment, and, in the end, as a means of correction. So in that sense, they will literally pay for their sin; and God will never—not in this age and not in the age to come—forgive (or set aside) the final payment they owe, which is voluntarily to step inside the ordained system of repentance, forgiveness, and personal sacrifice. As Jesus said, using the analogy of someone being thrown into prison, “Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny” (Matt 5:25). 97.

[T]hose who wish to seriously combat prostitution must first assist in removing its spiritual basis. They will have to ruthlessly clean up the moral plague of our city 'culture,' and do so without regard for the outcry that will follow... This process of cleansing our culture must be applied in practically all spheres. Theater, art, literature, the cinema, the press, and advertisements, all must remove the stains of our rotting world and be placed in the service of a moral, political, and cultural idea. Public life must be freed from the asphyxiating perfume of our modern eroticism, as well as from all unmanly and prudish hypocrisy... The right to personal freedom falls behind the duty of maintaining the race.

When the starry sky, a vista of open seas or a stained glass window shedding purple beams fascinate me, there is a cluster of meaning, of colors, of words, of caresses, there are light touches, scents, sighs, cadences that arise, shroud me, carry me away, and sweep me beyond the things that I see, hear, or think. The “sublime” object dissolves in the raptures of a bottomless memory. It is such a memory, which, from stopping point to stopping point, remembrance to remembrance, love to love, transfers that object to the refulgent point of the dazzlement in which I stray in order to be. As soon as I perceive it, as soon as I name it, the sublime triggers—it has always already triggered—a spree of perceptions and words that expands memory boundlessly. I then forget the point of departure and find myself removed to a secondary universe, set off from the one where “I” am—delight and loss. Not at all short of but always with and through perception and words, the sublime is a something added that expands us, overstrains us, and causes us to be both here, as dejects, and there, as others and sparkling. A divergence, an impossible bounding. Everything missed, joy—fascination.

Mrs. Indianapolis was in town again. She looked like a can of Sprite in her green and yellow outfit. She always likes to come down to the front desk just to chat. It was 4:04 am and thankfully I was awake and at the front desk when she got off the elevator and walked towards me. 
 “Good morning, Jacob,” she said.
 “My name is Jarod,” I replied.
 “When did you change your name?” “I was born Jarod, and I’ll probably die. Maybe.”
 “You must be new here. You look like a guy named Jacob that used to work at the front desk.”
 “Nope, I’m not new. And there’s no Jacob that’s worked the front desk, nor anybody who looks or looked like me. How can I assist you, Mrs. Indianapolis?”
 “I’d like to inform you that the pool is emitting a certain odor.”
 “What sort of odor?”
 “Bleach.”
 “Ah, that’s what we like to call chlorine. It’s the latest craze in the sanitation of public pools. Between you and me, though, I think it’s just a fad.”
 “Don’t get sassy with me, young man. I know what chlorine is. I expect a clean pool when I go swimming. But what I don’t expect is enough bleach to get the grass stain out of a shirt the size of Kentucky.”
 “That’s not our policy, ma’am. We only use about as much chlorine as it would take to remove a coffee stain the size of Seattle from a light gray shirt the size of Washington.” “Jerry, I don’t usually give advice to underlings, but I’m feeling charitable tonight. So I’ll tell you that if you want to get ahead in life, you have to know when to talk and when not to talk. And for a guy like you, it’d be a good idea if you decided not to talk all the time. Or even better, not to talk at all.”
 “Some people say some people talk too much, and some people, the second some people, say the first some people talk to much and think too little. Who is first and who is second in this case? Well, the customer—that’s you, lady—always comes first.”
 “There you go again with the talking. I’d rather talk to a robot than to you.”
 “If you’d rather talk to a robot, why don’t you just find your husband? He’s got all the personality and charm of a circuit board. Forgive me, I didn’t mean that.”
 “I should hope not!”
 “What I meant to say was fried circuit board. It’d be quite absurd to equate your husband’s banter to a functioning circuit board.”
 “I’m going to have a talk to your manager about your poor guest service.”
 “Go ahead. Tell him that Jerry was rude and see what he says. And by the way, the laundry room is off limits when no lifeguard is on duty.

As I became older, I was given many masks to wear. I could be a laborer laying railroad tracks across the continent, with long hair in a queue to be pulled by pranksters; a gardener trimming the shrubs while secretly planting a bomb; a saboteur before the day of infamy at Pearl Harbor, signaling the Imperial Fleet; a kamikaze pilot donning his headband somberly, screaming 'Banzai' on my way to my death; a peasant with a broad-brimmed straw hat in a rice paddy on the other side of the world, stooped over to toil in the water; an obedient servant in the parlor, a houseboy too dignified for my own good; a washerman in the basement laundry, removing stains using an ancient secret; a tyrant intent on imposing my despotism on the democratic world, opposed by the free and the brave; a party cadre alongside many others, all of us clad in coordinated Mao jackets; a sniper camouflaged in the trees of the jungle, training my gunsights on G.I. Joe; a child running with a body burning from napalm, captured in an unforgettable photo; an enemy shot in the head or slaughtered by the villageful; one of the grooms in a mass wedding of couples, having met my mate the day before through our cult leader; an orphan in the last airlift out of a collapsed capital, ready to be adopted into the good life; a black belt martial artist breaking cinderblocks with his head, in an advertisement for Ginsu brand knives with the slogan 'but wait--there's more' as the commercial segued to show another free gift; a chef serving up dog stew, a trick on the unsuspecting diner; a bad driver swerving into the next lane, exactly as could be expected; a horny exchange student here for a year, eager to date the blonde cheerleader; a tourist visiting, clicking away with his camera, posing my family in front of the monuments and statues; a ping pong champion, wearing white tube socks pulled up too high and batting the ball with a wicked spin; a violin prodigy impressing the audience at Carnegie Hall, before taking a polite bow; a teen computer scientist, ready to make millions on an initial public offering before the company stock crashes; a gangster in sunglasses and a tight suit, embroiled in a turf war with the Sicilian mob; an urban greengrocer selling lunch by the pound, rudely returning change over the counter to the black patrons; a businessman with a briefcase of cash bribing a congressman, a corrupting influence on the electoral process; a salaryman on my way to work, crammed into the commuter train and loyal to the company; a shady doctor, trained in a foreign tradition with anatomical diagrams of the human body mapping the flow of life energy through a multitude of colored points; a calculus graduate student with thick glasses and a bad haircut, serving as a teaching assistant with an incomprehensible accent, scribbling on the chalkboard; an automobile enthusiast who customizes an imported car with a supercharged engine and Japanese decals in the rear window, cruising the boulevard looking for a drag race; a illegal alien crowded into the cargo hold of a smuggler's ship, defying death only to crowd into a New York City tenement and work as a slave in a sweatshop. My mother and my girl cousins were Madame Butterfly from the mail order bride catalog, dying in their service to the masculinity of the West, and the dragon lady in a kimono, taking vengeance for her sisters. They became the television newscaster, look-alikes with their flawlessly permed hair. Through these indelible images, I grew up. But when I looked in the mirror, I could not believe my own reflection because it was not like what I saw around me. Over the years, the world opened up. It has become a dizzying kaleidoscope of cultural fragments, arranged and rearranged without plan or order.

He opened his eyes then, white fire flaring hotly within them. “Send me home, Legna,” he commanded her, his voice hoarse with suppressed emotion. She moved her head in affirmation even as she leaned toward him to catch his mouth once more in a brief, territorial kiss, her teeth scoring his bottom lip as she broke away. It was an incidental wound, one he could heal in the blink of an eye. But he wouldn’t erase her mark on him, and they both knew it. Finally, she stepped back, closed her eyes, and concentrated on picturing his home in her thoughts. She had been in his parlor dozens of times as a guest, always accompanied by Noah. His library, his kitchen, even the grounds of the isolated estate were well known to her. She could have sent him to any of those locations. But as she began to focus, her mind’s eye was filled with the image of a dark, elegant room she had never seen before. Hand-carved ebony-paneled walls soared up into a vast ceiling, enormous windows of intricate stained glass spilled colored light over the entire room as if a multitude of rainbows had taken up residence. It all centered around an enormous bed, the coverlet’s color indistinguishable under the blanket of colorful dawn sunlight that streamed into the room. She could feel the sun’s warmth, ready and waiting to cocoon any weary occupant who thrived on sleeping in the heat of the muted daylight sun. It was a beautiful room, and she knew without a doubt that it was Gideon’s bedroom and that he had shared the image of it with her. If she sent him there, it would be the first time she had ever teleported someone to a place she had not first seen for herself. The ability to take images of places from others’ minds for teleporting purposes was an advanced Elder ability. “You can do it,” he encouraged her softly, all of his thoughts and his will completely full of his belief in that statement. Legna kept his gaze for one last long moment, and with a flick of a wrist sent him from the room with a soft pop of moving air. She exhaled in wonder, everything inside of her knowing without a doubt that he had appeared in his bedroom, safe and sound, that very next second. Legna turned to look at her own bed and wondered how she would ever be able to sleep. Nelissuna . . . go to bed. I will help you sleep. Gideon’s voice washed through her, warming her, comforting her in a way she hadn’t thought possible. This was the connection that Jacob and Isabella shared. For the rest of the time both of them lived, each would be privy to the other’s innermost thoughts. She realized that because he was the more powerful, it was quite possible he would be able to master parts of himself, probably even hide things from her awareness and keep them private—at least, until she learned how to work her new ability with better skill. After all, she was a Demon of the Mind. It was part of her innate state of being to figure the workings of their complex minds. She removed her slippers and pushed the sleeves of her dress from her shoulders so that it sheeted off her in one smooth whisper of fabric. She closed her eyes, avoiding looking in the mirror or at herself, very aware of Gideon’s eyes behind her own. His masculine laughter vibrated through her, setting her skin to tingle. So, you are both shy and bold . . . he said with amusement as she quickly slid beneath her covers. You are a source of contradictions and surprises, Legna. My world has begun anew. As if living for over a millennium is not long enough? she asked him. On the contrary. Without you, it was far, far too long. Go to sleep, Nelissuna. And a moment after she received the thought, her eyes slid closed with a weight she could not have contradicted even if she had wanted to. Her last thought, as she drifted off, was that she had to make a point of telling Isabella that she might have been wrong about what it meant to have another to share one’s mind with.

The afternoon passes, the light fades, and evening is coming when are upon the cold, treeless ridges in austerity and awe, utterly removed from everyday life and everything we are used to in light and sound. As we top the last edge, we see below us Blue Lake. Bottomless, peacock blue, smooth as glass, it lies there like an uncut, shining jewel. Symmetrical pine trees, in thick succession, slope down to its shores. This Blue Lake is the most mysterious thing I have ever seen in nature, having an unknowing impenetrable life of its own, and a definite emanation that rises from it. Here is the source of most of the valley life. From this unending water supply that flows out of the east end and miles and miles of the stream to the Pueblo, fields are irrigated and winds down and feds all our fields and orchards. It has never been surprising to me that the Native Americans call Blue Lake a sacred lake and worship it…it is fitting to sleep beside it and try to draw what one could from its strong being. Most of us are used only to the awesome holiness of churches and lofty arches, cathedral where, with stained glass and brooding silences, priest try to emulate the religious atmosphere that is to be found in the living earth in some of her secret places. 1945 Collected in: Sisters of the Earth: Women's Prose and Poetry About Nature by Lorraine Anderson

Then the pulse. Then a pause. Then twilight in a box. Dusk underfoot. Then generations. — Then the same war by a different name. Wine splashing in the bucket. The erection, the era. Then exit Reason. Then sadness without reason. Then the removal of the ceiling by hand. — Then pages & pages of numbers. Then the page with the faint green stain. Then the page on which Prince Theodore, gravely wounded, is thrown onto a wagon. Then the page on which Masha weds somebody else. Then the page that turns to the story of somebody else. Then the page scribbled in dactyls. Then the page which begins Exit Angel. Then the page wrapped around a dead fish. Then the page where the serfs reach the ocean. Then a nap. Then the peg. Then the page with the curious helmet. Then the page on which millet is ground. Then the death of Ursula. Then the stone page they raised over her head. Then the page made of grass which goes on. — Exit Beauty. — Then the page someone folded to mark her place. Then the page on which nothing happens. The page after this page. Then the transcript. Knocking within. Interpretation, then harvest. — Exit Want. Then a love story. Then a trip to the ruins. Then & only then the violet agenda. Then hope without reason. Then the construction of an underground passage between us. Srikanth Reddy, "Burial Practice" from Facts for Visitors. Copyright © 2004 by the Regents of the University of California. Reprinted by permission of The University of California Press. Source: Facts for Visitors (University of California Press, 2004)

I opened the door with a smile on my face that soon melted when I saw his messy appearance. The doorframe held him up as he leaned all of his weight against it. Expressionless, bloodshot eyes stared back at me as he lifted his hand and ran it roughly down his unshaved face. His hair was disheveled and there was blood on the front of his shirt. Panic rose up as I took him in. I rushed to him and ran my fingers down his body, as I checked for injuries. “You’re bleeding! Oh my God, Devin! What happened? Are you OK?” “It’s not my blood,” he slurred. I took a better look at his gorgeous face. His unfocused eyes attempted to meet mine and it was then that the smell of liquor reached me. “You’re drunk?” “Abso-fucking-lutely.” He attempted to move toward me and almost fell over. I wrapped my arms around him and helped him into my apartment. Once we made it to the couch I let him collapse onto the cushion before I went straight to work on his clothes. I removed his blood-stained shirt first and threw it to the side. Quickly checked him over again just to be sure that he wasn’t injured somewhere. His skin felt cold and clammy against my fingertips. His knuckles were busted open, so I went to the bathroom and got a wet towel and the first aid kit. I cleaned his fingers then wrapped them up. I felt fingers in my hair and looked up to see a very drunk Devin staring back at me. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered as his heavy head fell against the back of my couch again. Shaking my head, I dropped onto my knees on the floor and removed his boots. Once I was done getting Devin out of his shoes, I went to the hallway closet and pulled out a blanket for him. When I got back to the couch, he was standing there looking back at me in all his tattooed, muscled glory. He was still leaning a bit to the side when his eyes locked on mine. “Come here,” he rasped. He looked as if he was about to crumble and I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or if something was really breaking him down. “Are you OK, baby?” I asked. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I love it when you call me baby.” I went to him and he groaned as I softly ran my hands up his chest and put my arms around his neck. On my tiptoes, I softly kissed the line of his neck and his chin. “Tell me what happened, Devin.” When he finally opened his eyes, he looked at me differently. The calm and collected Devin was gone and an anxiety-ridden shell of a man stood before me. His shoulders felt tense beneath my fingers and his eyes held a crazed demeanor. “I need you, Lilly.” He captured my face softly in his hands as he slurred the words. “Please tell me what happened?” “Make it go away, baby,” he whispered as he leaned in and started to kiss me. I let him as I melted against his body. He collapsed against the couch once more, but this time he took me with him. Not once did he break our kiss, and soon, I felt his velvet tongue against mine. I kissed him back and let my fingers play in the hair at the back of his neck. He broke the kiss and started down the side of my neck. “I need you, Lilly,” he repeated against my skin. “I’m here.” I bit at my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning. “Please, just make it all go away,” he drunkenly begged. “I don’t know what’s going on, but tell me what to do to make it better. I want to make it better, Devin.” I stopped him and stared into his eyes as I waited for his response. “Don’t leave me,” he said desperately. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it better.” I wanted to cry. He looked so hurt and afraid. It was strange to see such a strong, confident man so lost and unsure. He flipped me onto my back on the couch and crawled on top of me. His movements were less calculated—slower than usual. “I want you. I need to be inside you,” he said aggressively.

Cutting Board Maintenance Moisturize! Once a month I spend some quality time, just me and my cutting board family. Wood is porous and kind of alive—it expands and contracts, absorbs moisture and dries out. Without any TLC even the best wooden cutting board can crack, warp, or even rot from the inside. Luckily, all you need to prevent all of that is monthly moisturization. 1. Start with a clean and dry board: Using a soft dish sponge, scrub clean with dish soap. Remove any tough stains with a mixture of baking soda and water. Never use any harsh abrasives like bleach or steel wool. Rinse and then dry the board with a towel and leave it standing on its edge to fully dry. (If you can, it’s best to store your board standing on its edge when not in use so moisture doesn’t fester underneath.) When washing your board, be sure to wet both sides. This ensures that both sides are equally moist and dry at the same rate to prevent warping. 2. Apply a generous layer of food-grade mineral oil: Lay the board flat so excess oil doesn’t run off, and use your hands to spread a thick layer of mineral oil all over one side, rubbing into the edges and any grooves. Why mineral oil? Unlike most other oils, such as canola, olive, or coconut, mineral oil is totally flavorless and won’t grow rancid 3. Give it time to soak in: Let it sit for a few hours and preferably overnight to drink in as much oil as possible. 4. Buff and repeat: Use a towel to rub away any excess oil the board didn’t soak up. Next, buff the board, rubbing in any last remnants of oil. It should not feel slick or greasy when you’re done. Flip and repeat on the other side. • Level up: To give your board an almost velvety feel, after oiling both sides, rub them down with board cream. Board cream is a mixture of food-grade mineral oil and beeswax that you can purchase or make yourself. Using a towel, rub a thin, even layer all over the board. No need to wipe it off after.

Another day, sheltering beneath trees in a rain-shower, I uncovered a doorway long obliterated by undergrowth. After pulling shrubbery aside, I stepped inside a long deserted summerhouse, fronted by cracked marble columns and ironwork, the rear extending deep into the hillside. Though still filthy, even after I cleared away the tenacious vines, the windowpanes gave sufficient greenish light for me to sketch indoors. In a cobwebbed corner stood a gardener's burner that must once have coaxed oranges or other delicate shrubs to life. With that alight, I found a chair and sat with my shawl muffled around me as I sketched. The marble statues that lined the walls were fine copies of the Greek masters, with muscular limbs and serene faces, though sadly disfigured with a blueish-green patina. As an exercise, I copied a figure of a handsome boy, admiring the sculptor's rendering of tensed muscle, the body frozen just an instant before extending in action. My mind drifted to Michael, the uncertainty hanging over us, my urges to please him, my need to move beyond this stupid impasse. As I sketched the statue's blind eyes I half-heartedly followed his line of sight. I stood and looked more closely at the statue. "What are you looking at?" I said out loud. A green stain blotted the boy's cheek, ugly but also strangely beautiful, for the color was a peacock's viridian. For the first time I noticed the description, "HARPOCRATES- SILENCE", engraved on the pediment, and had a vague recollection of a Roman boy-god who personified that virtue. He held one index finger raised coyly to his lips, while his other hand pointed towards a low arch in the wall. I paced over to the spot at which he pointed. The niche was filled with gardener's trellis that I removed with rising excitement. Behind stood an oak doorway set low in the wall. As I lifted the latch, it opened onto a blast of chilly darkness. Lighting the stub of a candle at the stove, I propped the door open and ventured inside. At once I knew this was no gardeners' store, but another tunnel burrowing into the hillside. Setting forth with the excitement of new discovery, my footsteps rang out and my breath fogged before me in clouds. The place had a mossy, mineral smell, and save for the dripping of water, was silent. Though at first the tunnel ran straight, it soon descended an incline, and my feet splashed into muddy puddles. Who, I wondered, had last passed through that door?

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I wash and pray,” the woman says, her voice louder now, and she smiles for the first time to show even-sized teeth, the front ones stained brown. Her dimples sink into her cheeks, deep enough to swallow half a finger, and unusual in a face so lean. The woman clumsily washes her hands and face at the tap, then removes her scarf from her neck and places it down on the floor. Chika looks away. She knows the woman is on her knees, facing Mecca, but she does not look. It is like the woman’s tears, a private experience, and she wishes that she could leave the store. Or that she, too, could pray, could believe in a god, see an omniscient presence in the stale air of the store. She cannot remember when her idea of God has not been cloudy, like the reflection from a steamy bathroom mirror, and she cannot remember ever trying to clean the mirror.

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Even before your birth, you left a stain on the carpet,” she’d say. The stain, an amoeba-shaped discoloration that no cleaner known to man could remove, served for years as a reminder of my untimely arrival.

There are signs, however, that a good time was had all last night. Jo might have found herself caught in the middle of a love triangle, but she clearly didn't mind staying around when she thought that one of the angles had been dispensed with. The remains of dinner still grace the table---dirty dishes, rumpled napkins, a champagne flute bearing a lipstick mark. There's even one of the Chocolate Heaven goodies left in the box---which is absolute sacrilege in my book, so I pop it in my mouth and enjoy the brief lift it gives me. I huff unhappily to myself. If they left chocolate uneaten, that must be because they couldn't wait to get down to it. Two of the red cushions from the sofa are on the floor, which shows a certain carelessness that Marcus doesn't normally exhibit. They're scattered on the white, fluffy sheepskin rug, which should immediately make me suspicious---and it does. I walk through to the bedroom and, of course, it isn't looking quite as pristine as it did yesterday. Both sides of the bed are disheveled and I think that tells me just one thing. But, if I needed confirmation, there's a bottle of champagne and two more flutes by the side of the bed. It seems that Marcus didn't sleep alone. Heavy of heart and footstep, I trail back through to the kitchen. More devastation faces me. Marcus had made no attempt to clear up. The dishes haven't been put into the dishwasher and the congealed remnants of last night's Moroccan chicken with olives and saffron-scented mash still stand in their respective saucepans on the cooker. Tipping the contents of one pan into the other, I then pick up a serving spoon and carry them both through the bedroom. I slide open the wardrobe doors and the sight of Marcus's neatly organized rows of shirts and shoes greet me. Balancing the pan rather precariously on my hip, I dip the serving spoon into the chicken and mashed potatoes and scoop up as much as I can. Opening the pocket of Marcus's favorite Hugo Boss suit, I deposit the cold mash into it. To give the man credit where credit is due, his mash is very light and fluffy. I move along the row, garnishing each of his suits with some of his gourmet dish, and when I've done all of them, find that I still have some food remaining. Seems as if the lovers didn't have much of an appetite, after all. I move onto Marcus's shoes---rows and rows of lovely designer footwear---casual at one end, smart at the other. He has a shoe collection that far surpasses mine. Ted Baker, Paul Smith, Prada, Miu Miu, Tod's... I slot a full spoon delicately into each one, pressing it down into the toe area for maximum impact. I take the saucepan back into the kitchen and return it to the hob. With the way I'm feeling, Marcus is very lucky that I don't just burn his flat down. Instead, I open the freezer. My boyfriend---ex-boyfriend---has a love of seafood. (And other women, of course.) I take out a bag of frozen tiger prawns and rip it open. In the living room, I remove the cushions from the sofa and gently but firmly push a couple of handfuls of the prawns down the back. Through to the bedroom and I lift the mattress on Marcus's lovely leather bed and slip the remaining prawns beneath it, pressing them as flat as I can. In a couple of days, they should smell quite interesting. As my pièce de résistance, I go back to the kitchen and take the half-finished bottle of red wine---the one that I didn't even get a sniff at---and pour it all over Marcus's white, fluffy rug. I place my key in the middle of the spreading stain. Then I take out my lipstick, a nice red one called Bitter Scarlet---which is quite appropriate, if you ask me---and I write on his white leather sofa, in my best possible script: MARCUS CANNING, YOU ARE A CHEATING BASTARD.

Unlike women’s make-up or cow manure, the vanity that comes with popular celebrity is an organic stain with a life of its own that the owners choose to shamelessly exploit rather than remove.

The Creator made everything you see, and He holds it all together with His very Word. He made the humans to take care of it all, from the littlest plant to the largest animal. ALL of it was put under human authority. Man walked with the Creator, and we walked with man.” Gruff looked down at Zeki and walked a few steps. “So, what happened?” “Humans decided to rebel against the Creator, dismiss His love, His caring, His Great Authority. They turned from everything He had given for their own selfishness and desires.” Zeki looked at Gruff and then again back out into the mountain. “Because of what they did, ALL of creation has become corrupted, a stain that will never be removed until the Creator returns again.” Zeki waddled back over to where Gruff was now standing and held on to his leg again. Gruff looked down. “You said ‘again?’ He was here after His creation?” “Yes. The Creator came in the form of a human but was still the Creator, and He offered a way for man to once again walk with Him.” Zeki hopped and jumped onto Gruff’s back.

He’s like running water—strong, robust, and fluid. He imprints signs of beauty in me and inspires me, emotions I never want to remove. But I’m afraid of the rust stains he might leave in my heart when it’s over. Everything is temporary and fluid, certainly for a girl thirsty for warmth and love. Still, maybe, just maybe, it will be worth it.

HANDY HABIT: Stopping Stains from Sticking. Keep a bottle of stain solution in your dining room to handle spills on rugs as they happen. Begin by blotting the stain well with several pieces of paper towel, then apply the stain product to the rug. Pat it in, and let it sit for 5 to 10 minutes. Rinse well with cool water to remove suds, and repeat as necessary until the stain disappears. Pat dry with a clean cloth.

Mortimer’s Dissolving, Resolving, and Absolving Tonic—removes stains of any kind: physical, emotional, or moral.

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HOUSEHOLD STAIN REMOVER (to be mixed up fresh every time, then discarded afterward) 2 parts hydrogen peroxide 1 part dish soap Mix together in a small bowl and apply with a toothbrush or cloth. Let it sit for a few minutes, then rinse with water and blot up excess. Repeat if necessary.

Here are some simple household applications for baking soda; don’t be surprised when I mention it throughout the book! Carpets: Sprinkle on carpets and let sit for 30 minutes to absorb odors and lift out dirt, then vacuum it up. Trash cans/recycling bins: Sprinkle some in the can or bin if it smells, leave for 20 minutes, then wipe clean with a wet cloth. Kitchen: For caked-on food on pots, pans, the oven door, or cooktop, create a paste of equal parts dish soap and baking soda, then add a few sprinkles of water until it’s got a nice, pudding-like consistency. Apply with a damp, soft sponge and let sit on the surface for about 20 minutes, then wipe off (easily!) with a wet sponge. Rinse well and buff dry with a cloth. Walls: Sprinkle a little on a cloth slightly dampened with water, and use it to erase marks on the wall (yep, an eraser-style sponge substitute). Wipe the wall clean with a dry cloth. Sinks: Works great to remove stains from sinks—sprinkle it in and scrub well with a soapy sponge and hot water. Buff with a dry cloth to achieve that high-polish shine. The results are amazing!

You’ll notice that I use these ingredients again and again in lots of different formulations, so it’s a good idea to just keep them in the house. 3% hydrogen peroxide (what you get in the brown bottle): a whitener, stain-remover, and chlorine bleach alternative. Borax: Borax, or sodium borate, is a naturally occurring mineral. While it is not as gentle as baking soda, it mixes well with lemon, vinegar, and water for cleaning purposes and does clean quite well when used properly. See here (bathroom) for my favorite Borax trick. Cornstarch: Used in glass cleaner; super soft, provides the most gentle abrasion, and wipes off streak-free. Cream of tartar: Can remove stains when combined with vinegar or lemon juice. Rubbing alcohol: A quick-drying agent for some of my recipes and a dissolver of oil and grease. It is also known to disinfect. White vinegar: Can be used as a deodorizer, degreaser, stainless-steel cleaner, glass cleaner, and it does away with soap scum and limescale. Lemon can do almost anything that vinegar does, but there are practical reasons why I recommend vinegar, not least of all the ridiculousness of having to juice a bunch of lemons before cleaning. You can always sub in lemon juice for vinegar if you want to, but be aware that a product with lemon juice in it will go rancid, where vinegar will not, so any big batch meant to last for a while should contain vinegar. Remember, you can always amp up your vinegar game with 6 percent or 10 percent acidity.

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January 28 MORNING “Perfect in Christ Jesus.” — Colossians 1:28 DO you not feel in your own soul that perfection is not in you? Does not every day teach you that? Every tear which trickles from your eye, weeps “imperfection;” every sigh which bursts from your heart, cries “imperfection;” every harsh word which proceeds from your lip, mutters “imperfection.” You have too frequently had a view of your own heart to dream for a moment of any perfection in yourself. But amidst this sad consciousness of imperfection, here is comfort for you — you are “perfect in Christ Jesus.” In God’s sight, you are “complete in Him;” even now you are “accepted in the Beloved.” But there is a second perfection, yet to be realized, which is sure to all the seed. Is it not delightful to look forward to the time when every stain of sin shall be removed from the believer, and he shall be presented faultless before the throne, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing? The Church of Christ then will be so pure, that not even the eye of Omniscience will see a spot or blemish in her; so holy and so glorious, that Hart did not go beyond the truth when he said — With my Saviour’s garments on, Holy as the Holy One.” Then shall we know, and taste, and feel the happiness of this vast but short sentence, “Complete in Christ.” Not till then shall we fully comprehend the heights and depths of the salvation of Jesus. Doth not thy heart leap for joy at the thought of it? Black as thou art, thou shalt be white one day; filthy as thou art, thou shalt be clean. Oh, it is a marvellous salvation this! Christ takes a worm and transforms it into an angel; Christ takes a black and deformed thing and makes it clean and matchless in His glory, peerless in His beauty, and fit to be the companion of seraphs. O my soul, stand and admire this blessed truth of perfection in Christ.

Vitarag’s [the enlightened one’s] 'water' (knowledge) will remove any kind of (karmic) 'stains'.

Professional Dry Cleaning is a simple procedure of getting rid of stains and dirt from the dress. Penny wise Cleaners use natural products for professional dry cleaning as these products are better stain removal.

Teeth whitening is the most prevalent cosmetic dental procedure used to remove the discoloration and stains from its surfaces. It is the periodic process which is repeated time and again in order to maintain the brighter color. It cab be done either at the office of the dentist or at home.

His thumb smoothed over the tiny red marks the pins had made on her palm, and he brought her hand to his face to kiss the little sore spots. His voice curled hotly inside her palm. "Your hand smells like lemons." She opened her eyes and stared at him gravely. "I scrub my hands with lemon juice to remove the ink stains." The information seemed to amuse him, and lights of humor mixed with the heat in his gaze.

Black Roads Black roads have nothing to tell, they are embarrassing day by day, yet they smell awesome after the chaste heavy rainfall, even in the abject condition. Black roads burn madly in the detrimental sunlight during the whole day, yet welcome the God of sun everyday. Black roads always offer us a cool, bright strange place to introspect ourselves, to walk on it's burned skin everyday, yet it teaches us a new lesson everyday. Don't disparagement the roads for its daily serving to us, as Black roads are hard, still lenient to offer us a leisure walk on it. How are black roads feel much helpless while providing a loneliest path to a strange girl. Who says, there were no evidence. The falter black roads were the only evidence of the sight, when a girl raped or teased. These strange roads feeble each and everyday after watching this disheartened, excruciating act. They want a perfect strange road, on which everyone can walk independently, without thinking about the passing immortal time and the culprit people. "No worries in life, is simply a perfect destination for us" ~Sometimes, non living things teach us the best lessons. The words of black roads~ "I always take the help of those poor human being to prove my sacredness in front on the whole world. I don't want a heavy dauntless rain to remove the blood stains and scars of tears, instead i need the drizzle to wash the dust of love spread by everyone carelessly. I am pity helpless, yet great than this artificial human being who are creating a road full of violence" "The stains of the blood and the scars of the deadliest tears burns on my black skin everyday" © Deepak Gupta

I noticed some scratch marks and faded blood stains high up on a wall. “What happened there?” “An inmate must have tried to escape. I saw a guy use two suction devices like the ones used to carry glass sheets to help lever himself up. He reached half way before being spotted by a blue shirt.” “What happened to him?” “The blue shirt called a guard. He was ordered to come down, but didn’t. They shot him in the leg, he fell and later in the cell, he removed a blade from a disposable razor, slashed his left wrist then wrote a suicide note on the wall with his right hand – in his own blood. Suicide is really common in here and nobody bats an eyelid.

It is not that simple to adhere to good routines in tri cities wa dentist hygiene, but it is something that you need to do your whole life. You need to stay committed if you want your smile to constantly be a healthy one. This short article is packed with great dental care guidance. Avoid drinking soda water as part of your daily routine. Beverages rich in sugar can cause dental caries and staining unless you brush your teeth right away. This assists your teeth and naturally your overall health. It is essential that you brush your teeth regularly. Do it at least twice, preferably post-meal. Take a minimum of two minutes, brushing every surface of your teeth. Never ever brush too harshly, and constantly make use of a tooth paste with fluoride. You ought to also thoroughly floss your teeth afterward. Do not ever chew on ice. Chewing ice can crack teeth and make it easier for germs that triggers tooth cavities to stick to teeth and develop troubles. In addition, you ought to make use of care when consuming popcorn or nuts because these can also cause damages. If you fear that you have a broken tooth, visit your dental practitioner as soon as possible. Brilliant use of lipstick can make your teeth look more beautiful. Light average or red coral shades are going to have your teeth looking whiter than they truly are. Lighter shades have the tendency to have a reverse result. If they are white, they can make your teeth appear yellow even! You have to successfully brush at least two times daily to keep teeth in good shape. It is essential to brush in the early morning in order to remove collected germs from sleeping. During the night, you brush to clean away food debris you gathered during your day. Does tarter develop up on your teeth rapidly? If you do, you should buy a great anti-tartar tooth paste and mouthwash. Tartar typically kinds on your bottom front teeth and your upper molars. See a dental expert frequently to eliminate tartar. Do cold and hot foods trigger your teeth to hurt? Select a toothpaste for sensitive gums and teeth, and see a dental expert when you can. Go to an additional dental professional for a 2nd opinion if your dentist tells you a deep cleaning is needed. This form of cleaning costs a lot more so make certain that you aren't being ripped off. Does it appear outrageous to pay out $75 for a tooth brush? Well, many dental experts assert that a more pricey electricity toothbrush is one of the most efficient ways of cleaning your teeth, right alongside getting your teeth cleaned at the dental practitioner office. While you will not be removing everything on your teeth 100 percent, you will still get a remarkable clean. Search for models that have numerous styles of heads, and ensure the warranty is excellent! Take your time when brushing your teeth. Brushing could be something you already do, however you might rush when brushing. Do not make this mistake. Take care and sufficient time while you brush your teeth. Maximize the time when your brushing your teeth. See to it you brush comprehensive for one full minute or more. Do you really desire to get your tongue pierced? Piercing your tongue makes the location attractive to germs. It could chip off the enamel of your teeth if you aren't careful. Constantly follow appropriate brushing methods. You must do it as soon as you awaken and right prior to going to sleep. When you are asleep at night, your saliva dries, and this prevents bacteria that cause cavities from working. Make certain you set the timer for at least two minutes and brush around your teeth at a 45-degree angle. Since these fruits include carbonic acids that can ha

The blood of Jesus did not merely "cover" the sins of your wicked heart...leaving a stain! It completely remove them all wiping them out as if they never existed there in the first place! It's called redemption!

I scrubbed with cold water for several minutes without really removing the stain. The paper towels kept falling apart, leaving dozens of small wet crumbs of paper all over the shirt without affecting the stain. This coffee was amazing stuff; perhaps it was part paint or fabric dye—that would explain the taste.

*Luther argued that true *worship does not need a building, and other Reformers such as *Calvin and *Zwingli agreed that a simple meeting hall was sufficient for Christian worship. Many early Protestant congregations, however, worshiped in formerly Roman Catholic church buildings, often moving the pulpit to a more central location as well as removing statues of saints and stained glass images. The

Nel explained that he’d been finding—and cleaning—semen-and lipstick-stained towels for weeks. I was shocked. If the stains didn’t rinse out, he’d carefully remove them by hand. He was terrified that if he passed them on to other Navy laundry personnel downstairs he’d not only reveal Bill Clinton’s affairs, he’d embarrass the presidency itself. Sure, they might have missed the semen stains—but not the lipstick. A Navy senior chief petty officer was washing those towels by hand: that’s how much Nel cared for protecting the office of the president. Upon seeing the fluid, I instantly thought, “F—ing Monica!” But that lipstick… no. Among White House women, fashion and especially lipstick were like trademarks. This wasn’t Monica’s lipstick. Someone else was entertaining the president late at night. As I testified in the Ken Starr investigation, I believed that this particular lipstick belonged to the current West Wing receptionist. I just knew it. I sighed. But I kept it to myself and didn’t tell Nel or anyone else. I mentally filed that piece of knowledge under “Please forget.

Raised in the Episcopal church, I was once removed from my pew, at age six, because I could not control my weeping. Unbeknownst to anyone, I had been staring at a terrible, glorious stained-glass window of the crucifixion and grieving for the pain Christ must have endured. The arresting mosaic of that forlorn image etched itself indelibly upon me. And yet at some point, I became emotionally and empathically detached.

Yahweh is a god who atones,” he replied. “Whatever was done to you is not your sin. And whatever you have done can be removed from you as far as the east is from the west. If righteousness were based on our own goodness, none of us would stand. None of us are worthy of his presence. We are all stained by evil. We are made clean by blood atonement.” She protested, “But I am not of Abraham’s seed. I was born under the cursed flesh of Edom.” “So am I. I was born a Kenizzite, a descendant of Edom as well. But Yahweh accepts those of any nation who turn from their idols to the living God of all flesh. It is faith that Yahweh wants, Rahab, not flesh.” A sudden silence penetrated their conversation. Rahab felt as if a great weight had lifted from her soul. The dark cloud that had followed her ever since she became a follower of Yahweh was dissolved in the cleansing of a spring rain. She smiled and said softly, tenderly, “Yes, I will marry you,

April 16 MORNING “The precious blood of Christ.” — 1 Peter 1:19 STANDING at the foot of the cross, we see hands, and feet, and side, all distilling crimson streams of precious blood. It is “precious” because of its redeeming and atoning efficacy. By it the sins of Christ’s people are atoned for; they are redeemed from under the law; they are reconciled to God, made one with Him. Christ’s blood is also “precious” in its cleansing power; it “cleanseth from all sin.” “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” Through Jesus’ blood there is not a spot left upon any believer, no wrinkle nor any such thing remains. O precious blood, which makes us clean, removing the stains of abundant iniquity, and permitting us to stand accepted in the Beloved, notwithstanding the many ways in which we have rebelled against our God. The blood of Christ is likewise “precious” in its preserving power. We are safe from the destroying angel under the sprinkled blood. Remember it is God’s seeing the blood which is the true reason for our being spared. Here is comfort for us when the eye of faith is dim, for God’s eye is still the same. The blood of Christ is “precious” also in its sanctifying influence. The same blood which justifies by taking away sin, does in its after-action, quicken the new nature and lead it onward to subdue sin and to follow out the commands of God. There is no motive for holiness so great as that which streams from the veins of Jesus. And “precious,” unspeakably precious, is this blood, because it has an overcoming power. It is written, “They overcame through the blood of the Lamb.” How could they do otherwise? He who fights with the precious blood of Jesus, fights with a weapon which cannot know defeat. The blood of Jesus! sin dies at its presence, death ceases to be death: heaven’s gates are opened. The blood of Jesus! we shall march on, conquering and to conquer, so long as we can trust its power!

Thomas Jefferson expressed similar concerns about miscegenation (without regard to his personal practices). He advocated removal of blacks from the United States, due in part to concerns over maintaining blood purity. He stated that Negro “amalgamation with the other color produces a degradation to which no lover of his country, no lover of excellence in the human character can innocently consent.”45 Resettlement of blacks would mean that they would “be removed beyond the reach of mixture” so that they could not stain “the blood of [their] master.”46

Her name was Jane,” I said, and Olivia stopped walking. “We were together for two years, married after a few months. I was happy, genuinely happy. Even though she was human, and I knew I’d outlive her, I just wanted to enjoy the time that we had together. “It all ended on a damp November morning in seventeen eighty-two. I’d been away working for Avalon for a few months and had been eager to get home. I found her inside the house we’d shared. She’d been butchered. Her blood decorated our bedroom. She was naked and appeared to have been dead for several days. My rage was…terrifying. I buried Jane with my own hands, placing her near a field that we used to love going to. And then I burnt the house to the ground.” Olivia’s shoulders sagged, but she didn’t turn and face me. “I hunted her killer for a year. I didn’t care who I hurt to get the information I needed. I was so single-minded, so determined to have vengeance. Eventually, I discovered that her murderer had been part of the king’s army, which had been going through the area. “The killer was an officer by the name of Henry. No idea what his last name was. It didn’t matter. He liked hurting women, and once he’d finished with them, he kept their hair as a souvenir. The rest of his squad had waited outside while he brutalized and murdered the woman I loved. No one had helped Jane, and no one had tried to stop him. “I discovered that they’d been on training maneuvers the day of the murder, just their squad of thirty. And after all my searching, I found them and I killed them. They died in one night of blood and rage. All but one. I left Henry until last. I took him away to a secluded place and had my fill of vengeance. It took a week for him to die, and when he finally succumbed, I buried Hellequin with him.” The memory of Henry’s blind and bloody form flashed in my mind—his pleas had long since silenced because I’d removed his tongue. I hadn’t wanted information from him; I’d just wanted to make him suffer. Before he’d lost his ability to talk, he’d told me that someone had paid him to do it, but he never said who. No matter what I did to him, he took that secret to his grave. And after a few years of searching, I decided he’d been lying. Trying to prolong his life for a short time more, hoping for mercy where there was none to give. “I no longer had the desire to go by that name,” I continued, still talking to Olivia’s back, “I no longer wanted to instill fear with a word. I hoped that the legend would die, but it didn’t, it grew, became more…fanciful. “You’re right, I’m a killer. I’ve killed thousands, and very few of them have ever stained my conscience. I can go to a dark place and do whatever I need to. But for those I care about, those I love, I will move fucking mountains to keep them safe. And I care about Tommy and Kasey, whether you grant permission or not.

photographers at the time often rubbed their fingers with solid lumps of cyanide to remove silver nitrate stains.

DILEMMA: Wiper fluid is good for clearing up most of the windshield, but it always leaves the edges even dirtier than before. SOLUTION: Remove the tape from a cassette—if you still have any around—shape it into a ball, stuff it into the foot of an old stocking, and tie the tip closed. You’ve just made your very own window wiper that won’t leave streaks and stains all over the place.

spraying the stains with spot remover and working it in, the shirt followed. She was about to drop in her pants when the heft alerted her she hadn't removed her cell phone from the pocket. "Wouldn't that have been just great." She took

The stain of sin is impossible for us to remove on our own. But God calls us to come to Him, confess our sin, turn away from it, and be made clean. Only God can remove the stain of sin from our lives, and He will. We don’t have to go through life permanently soiled. God’s Word assures us that if we are willing and obedient, Christ will forgive and remove our most indelible stains (Psalm 51:1-7).

Growing heated as he talks about the lost opportunity, Balsillie stops and bows his head. Rubbing a clenched fist back and forth across his forehead, as if trying to remove some hidden stain, he ends the conversation. “I must not go back to the life of commerce,” he says.

Sin is more than a stain that can be removed by a trip to the dry cleaner. It is a wound that needs to be treated, healed.

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TREATMENTS FOR REMOVING A BIRTHMARK Birthmark removal is one of our most challenging, but also satisfying, treatments. Not all birthmarks are the same, regardless of how they appear, which means that technology and expertise are critical to the success of a birthmark removal procedure. A port-wine stain is one sort of red birthmark, while there are several brown birthmarks and other types of birthmarks. Many of these conditions can be successfully treated using laser technology and by using other treatments for removing birthmarks. Birthmarks are skin signs that a baby may develop before or shortly after birth. Birthmarks can be flat or raised, have regular or irregular borders, and vary in color from brown, tan, black, or pale blue to pink, red, or purple. Though most birthmarks are nontoxic and do not require medical treatment, it is important to keep note of any changes in their appearance. Some birthmarks are large and significant enough to interfere with other biological functions. Birthmarks are often produced by the unusual development of cellular components in the skin. The two most common causes of birthmarks are as follows: (i) Irregular development of blood vessels beneath the skin. (ii) An increase in the number of pigments (i.e. melanin) generating cells that gather together under the skin. There are several old wives’ stories and superstitions concerning birthmark causes in various cultures across the world. For more information kindly visit or contact 0331 1117546

I wrote against the loneliness of three people becoming one each. I wrote about the high desert and the mountains and alpine meadows while I listened to the rain and drank coffee and lived among wide rivers and Douglas-fir and hawthorn trees. I wrote about motherhood and not spanking and trying not to yell. I wrote bigger things about being free and saying no and about god as something other than stained glass, robe-shrouded men, sin listing, and forgiveness on knees. I wrote about the matriarchy Mom whispered in my ear in the red dust about being in charge of the food source, seeking other gods, and then seeking nothing and untying the knots in my mind, pulling out poetic threads, removing what wasn’t needed.

She's the light to our dark," Saint said when I'd just about given up on getting a reply from him. "I just hope our corruption doesn't taint her soul too much." I scoffed dismissively and he raised an eyebrow, deigning to look at me once more. "That's not the way this works, dude, haven't you figured that out yet?" I asked him. "What?" "The corruption. It's not us darkening her soul, it's her lightening ours. She's more powerful than any of us and the deeper we let her into our hearts, the closer I think we move to salvation." "Salvation?" Saint asked before shaking his head. "No, I don't believe we are about to become reformed citizens, Blake. I think we have become her creatures. We are still the dogs of war, dark, desperate and ruined as we are, but she is our master. She won't remove that stain upon our natures, but she will show us where best to aim it. And I for one am ready to let her.

Carpet Stain Removal Richardson TX (972) 454-9815 One of the reasons our carpet stain cleaning is so popular with customers is that it is eco-friendly. Our products are safe for the home, pets, and children. We are able to quickly clean tough stains that you believe are permanent and cannot be removed from your carpet. You will quickly observe the disappearance of what you thought was a stain that would not go away.

Hold on,” I said to Zoe. “Did you say you infiltrated the principal’s office last night?” “That’s right,” Zoe replied. I looked back at Warren. “Then why are you still camouflaged?” “The paint won’t wash off,” Warren said morosely. He looked as though he might have turned red if he hadn’t been painted brown. “I couldn’t get the perfect oaken tone with standard face paint, so I had to use wood stain instead. Now I can’t remove it.” Zoe snickered despite herself. “It’s not funny!” Warren whined. “Today in self-defense class, Professor Simon mistook me for a table and set a book on my head.

Abe's Ass-Kickin' Apple Pie (written in pencil on a much-stained sheet of paper with MARION CORRECTIONAL INSTITUTE across the top) 8 cups apples 1⁄4 cup butter 1⁄2 cup brown sugar 1⁄4 cup granulated sugar 21⁄2 Tb flour 11⁄2 tsp cinnamon pinch salt 1 Tb lemon juice 1 tsp vanilla Cut apples into thin slices. Cook in large pan with 1⁄2 cup water. While cooking, add butter. Mix sugars, flour, cinnamon, and salt in bowl. After apples are tender, add sugar mix, lemon juice, and vanilla to apples. Allow mix to simmer 10–12 minutes. Remove from stove and allow apples to cool. Once cool, place in pie crust. Be sure to slit holes in top crust. Sprinkle top with sugar if desired or mix 1 egg with 2 tablespoons water and brush over top crust. Also can add raisins to apple mix or mayhap nuts. Cook in oven 425 degrees for approx fifty minutes.

APRIL 16 MORNING . . . THE PRECIOUS BLOOD OF CHRIST. — 1 PETER 1:19 Standing at the foot of the cross, we see hands and feet and side all distilling crimson streams of “precious blood.” It is “precious” because of its redeeming and atoning efficacy. By it the sins of Christ’s people are atoned for; they are redeemed from under the law; they are reconciled to God, made one with Him. Christ’s blood is also “precious” in its cleansing power; it cleanses from all sin. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.”1 Through Jesus’ blood there is not a spot left upon any believer; no wrinkle nor any such thing remains. O precious blood that makes us clean, removing the stains of our iniquity and permitting us to stand accepted in the Beloved despite the many ways in which we have rebelled against our God. The blood of Christ is also “precious” in its preserving power. We are safe from the destroying angel under the sprinkled blood. Remember, it is God’s seeing the blood that is the true reason for our being spared. Here is comfort for us when the eye of faith is dim, for God’s eye is still the same. The blood of Christ is “precious” also in its sanctifying influence. The same blood that justifies by taking away sin also quickens the new nature and leads it onward to subdue sin and to obey the commands of God. There is no greater motive for holiness than that which streams from the veins of Jesus. And “precious,” unspeakably precious, is this blood because it has an overcoming power. It is written, “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb.”2 How could they do otherwise? He who fights with the precious blood of Jesus fights with a weapon that cannot know defeat. The blood of Jesus! Sin dies at its presence; death ceases to be death: Heaven’s gates are opened. The blood of Jesus! We shall march on, conquering and to conquer, so long as we can trust its power!

Not unlike the herbicide-spraying campaigns in Asia, Central Europe was also flown over by helicopters spraying chemicals intended to wipe out the deciduous forests, which had gone out of fashion. Beech and oak trees held very little value at that time; low oil prices meant that no one was interested in firewood. The scales were tilted in favour of spruce – sought after by the timber industry and safe from being devoured by the high game populations. Over 5,000 square kilometres of deciduous woodlands was cleared just in my local region of Eifel and Hunsrück, through this merciless method of dropping death from the air. The carrier for the substance, sold under the trade name Tormona, was diesel oil. Elements of this mixture may still lurk in the soil of our forests today; the rusty diesel drums are certainly still lying around in some places. Have things improved now? Not completely, because chemical sprays are still used, even if they’re not directed at the trees themselves. The target of the helicopters and trucks with their atomising nozzles is the insects that feed on the trees and wood. Because the drab spruce and pine monocultures give free rein to bark beetles and butterfly caterpillars, these are then bumped off with contact insecticides. The pesticides, with names like Karate, are so lethal for three months that mere contact spells the end for any unfortunate insects. Parts of a forest that have been sprayed with pesticide are usually marked and fenced off for a while, but wood piles at the side of the track are often not considered dangerous. I would therefore advise against sitting on them when you’re ready for a rest stop and look out for a mossy stump instead, which is guaranteed to be harmless. This is quite apart from the fact that freshly harvested softwood is often very resinous. The stains don’t come out in the normal wash; you need to attack it with a special stain remover. Stacked wood carries another danger: the whole pile is liable to come crashing down. When you know that a single trunk can weigh hundreds of kilograms, you tend to stay away from a precariously stacked pile. It’s not for nothing that the German name for a wood stack is Polter, as in the crashing and banging of a poltergeist. Back to the poison. In areas sprayed by helicopter I wouldn’t pick berries or mushrooms for the rest of the summer. Otherwise, the forest is low in harmful substances compared to industrial agriculture.

And you?" My scalp tingled, and an ache began at the base of my spine, fear or eagerness, I did not know. "What would you ask of me?" His eyes held mine. "I would ask the impossible." I struggled to let the Goblin King hold my gaze as heat stained my cheeks. "Bear in mind that I am no saint," I said, "and cannot work miracles." His lips twitched. "Then I would ask for your friendship." Startled, I removed my hands from the table. "Oh, Elisabeth," he said. "I would ask that you remember me. Not as we are now, but as we were then." I frowned. I thought back to our Goblin Grove dances, to the simple wagers we had made when I was a little girl. I struggled to find the truth hidden within my past, but I was unsure which was memory and which was make-believe. "You do remember." He shifted closer in his seat. There was something like hope in his voice, and I could not bear it. The Goblin King lifted his hand. The table beneath us vanished, swallowed up by the earth once more. He placed a finger against my temple. "Somewhere within that remarkable mind of yours, you kept those memories safe. Too safe. Hidden away." Was the Goblin King the friend I had imagined- remembered- as a child? Or was he truly the Lord of Mischief, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality? I was restless and itchy within my own mind. He left his seat and kneeled before me. His hands rested on the armrests of my chair, but he was careful not to touch me. "All I ask, Elisabeth," the Goblin King said, "is that you remember." His words were a bass, their notes resonating in my bones. "Please, remember.

Title: Professional Bridesmaid for Hire—w4w—26 (NYC) Post: When all of my friends started getting engaged, I decided to make new friends. So I did—but then they got engaged also, and for what felt like the hundredth time, I was asked to be a bridesmaid. This year alone, I’ve been a bridesmaid 4 times. That’s 4 different chiffon dresses, 4 different bachelorette parties filled with tequila shots and guys in thong underwear twerking way too close to my face, 4 different prewedding pep talks to the bride about how this is the happiest day of her life, and how marriage, probably, is just like riding a bike: a little shaky at first, but then she’ll get the hang of it. Right, she’ll ask as she wipes the mascara-stained tears from her perfectly airbrushed face. Right, I’ll say, though I don’t really know. I only know what I’ve seen and that’s a beautiful-looking bride walking down, down, down the aisle, one two, three, four times so far this year. So let me be there for you this time if: — You don’t have any other girlfriends except your third cousin, twice removed, who is often found sticking her tongue down an empty bottle of red wine. — Your fiancé has an extra groomsman and you’re looking to even things out so your pictures don’t look funny and there’s not one single guy walking down the aisle by himself. — You need someone to take control and make sure bridesmaid #4 buys her dress on time and doesn’t show up 3 hours late the day of the wedding or paint her nails lime green. Bridesmaid skills I’m exceptionally good at: — Holding up the 18 layers of your dress so that you can pee with ease on your wedding day. — Catching the bouquet and then following that moment up with my best Miss America–like “OMG, I can’t believe this” speech. — Doing the electric and the cha-cha slide. — Responding in a timely manner to prewedding email chains created by other bridesmaids and the maid of honor.

The blood of Jesus must be brought by the Holy Spirit into direct contact with our hearts to cleanse them from an evil conscience. The blood removes all self-condemnation. It cleanses the conscience, which then witnesses the complete removal of guilt. There is no longer the least separation between God and us. The conscience bears witness that we are pleasing to God, our heart is cleansed, and we are in true living fellowship with God. Yes, the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin – not only from the guilt but also from the stain of sin. Through the power of the blood, our fallen nature is prevented from exercising its power.

But His love is so powerful and great that He made a way for sin’s curse to be removed—the guilt that stains our hearts and corrupts our world.

Most of the propaganda the Allies and Japanese engaged in concerning the enemy's atrocious behavior was rooted in actual occurrences, and the horror, rage, and hatred this provoked on all sides was natural. Of greater interest now, however, is the way such behavior was offered as confirmation of the innately inferior and immoral nature of the enemy-- a reflection of national character-- when, in fact, the pages of history everywhere are stained with cruelty and unbridled savagery. The "civilization" which both the Allies and the Japanese claimed to be defending had failed to stem these impulses, and World War Two simply witnessed new as well as old ways of carrying out mass destruction and individual violence. Allied propagandists were not distorting the history of Japan when they pointed to much that was cruel in the Japan's past. They had to romanticize or simply forget their own history, however, to turn such behavior into something uniquely Japanese-- to ignore, for example, the long history of torture and casual capital punishment in the West, the genocide of the Indian population in the Western Hemisphere by the sixteenth-century conquistadores, the "hell ships" of the Western slave trade, the death march of American Indians forcibly removed from the eastern United States in the 1930s, the ten thousand or more Union prisoners of war who died at Andersonville during the U.S Civil War, the introduction of "modern" strategies of annihilation and terrorization of civilians by Napoleon and Lee and Grant and Sherman, and the death marches and massacres of native peoples by the European colonialists in Africa and Asia, right up to 1941. In their genuine shock at the death rituals which the Japanese military engaged in, moreover, the Westerners tended to forget not only their own "epics of defeat" (immortalized in names such as Roland, Thermopylae, the Alamo, and Custer), but also the self-sacrifice against hopeless odds of thousands of Allied fighting men. To give but one example, the number of United Kingdom airmen who gave their lives in World War Two was ten times greater than the number of Japanese who died as kamikaze pilots. The acceptance of certain death by the latter did indeed set them apart, but the difference can be exaggerated

Without artists, would this heritage have descended to us? Would the words and deeds—the revelation—have survived the arduous journey into the present without the painters, the mosaic workers, the storytellers, the stone carvers, the poets, the singers, the workers in stained glass? Wasn’t it art, I thought—as I watched Bernard open a handsome black wallet and remove a handful of lire—that had been the carrier of the divine? Popes had understood that. The Emperor Constantine. Monks in damp Irish monasteries illuminating the Word.

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Do try it on,” Cassandra urged. Despite Kathleen’s refusal, the girls insisted on draping it over her shoulders, just to see how it looked. “How beautiful,” Helen said, beaming. It was the most luxurious fabric she had ever felt, the fleece soft and cushiony. Kathleen ran her hand across the rich hues, and sighed. “I suppose I can’t ruin it with aniline dye,” she muttered. “But I’m going to tell him that I did.” “You’re going to lie?” Cassandra asked, her eyes wide. “That’s not setting a very good example for us.” “He must be discouraged from sending unsuitable gifts,” Kathleen said. “It’s not his fault if he doesn’t know any better,” Pandora pointed out. “He knows the rules,” Kathleen said darkly. “And he enjoys breaking them.” My Lord, It was very kind of you to send the lovely gift which is very useful now that the weather has turned. I am pleased to relate that the cashmere absorbed an application of black dye quite evenly so that it is now appropriate for mourning. Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Lady Trenear “You dyed it?” Devon asked aloud, setting the note on his desk with mixture of amusement and irritation. Reaching for a silver penholder, he inserted a fresh nib and pulled a sheet of writing paper from a nearby stack. That morning he had already written a half-dozen missives to lawyers, his banker, and contractors, and had hired an outside agent to analyze the estate’s finances. He grimaced at the sight of his ink-stained fingers. The lemon-and-salt paste his valet had given him wouldn’t entirely remove the smudges. He was tired of writing, and even more so of numbers, and Kathleen’s letter was a welcome distraction. The challenge could not go unanswered.

My Lord, It was very kind of you to send the lovely gift which is very useful now that the weather has turned. I am pleased to relate that the cashmere absorbed an application of black dye quite evenly so that it is now appropriate for mourning. Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Lady Trenear “You dyed it?” Devon asked aloud, setting the note on his desk with mixture of amusement and irritation. Reaching for a silver penholder, he inserted a fresh nib and pulled a sheet of writing paper from a nearby stack. That morning he had already written a half-dozen missives to lawyers, his banker, and contractors, and had hired an outside agent to analyze the estate’s finances. He grimaced at the sight of his ink-stained fingers. The lemon-and-salt paste his valet had given him wouldn’t entirely remove the smudges. He was tired of writing, and even more so of numbers, and Kathleen’s letter was a welcome distraction. The challenge could not go unanswered. Staring down at the letter with a faint smile, Deon pondered the best way to annoy her. Dipping the pen nib into the inkwell, he wrote, Madam, I am delighted to learn that you find the shawl useful in these cooler days of autumn. On that subject, I am writing to inform you of my recent decision to donate all the black curtains that currently shroud the windows at Eversby Priory to a London charitable organization. Although you will regrettably no longer have use of the cloth, it will be made into winter coats for the poor, which I am sure you will agree is a far nobler purpose. I am confident in your ability to find other ways of making the atmosphere at Eversby Priory appropriately grim and cheerless. If I do not receive the curtains promptly, I will take it to mean that you are eager for my assistance, in which case I will be delighted to oblige you by coming to Hampshire at once. Trenear Kathleen’s reply was delivered a week later, along with massive crates containing the black curtains.

How smart Parisians had been to remove the great stained-glass windows of the cathedral of Notre-Dame and store them for safety, replacing them with pale yellow panes. Victory flags fluttered in the harsh wind from every streetlamp and window.

It was still with them, the century-old futility of trying to protect what was theirs while watching it being taken away. It clung to her people like a stain that couldn’t be removed.

Intelligent people who wish to get rid of the suffering caused by a disease and to attain the happiness of health must first find out what the disease is—they must diagnose its nature. Thereupon they have to abandon the cause that has generated this disease, such as unhealthy food and so on. They have to attain the happy state of freedom from sickness and to do so rely on good medicine, the means to achieve this aim. Similar to this example, those who have the intelligence of wishing to get rid of the suffering of samsara and to attain the happiness of nirvana must first understand what suffering is. They must recognize that the whole of samsara, which consists of the fruit of anything bound up with pollution, is in its entirety nothing but suffering. Upon this recognition they have to remove its cause, the origination of all suffering, to its full extent. This consists of karma and the mental poisons. They must come into direct contact with the cessation [of suffering], which is free from these stains, and attain the happiness of nirvana. As the means towards this aim they must rely on the five paths, which are free from pollution, and gradually incorporate them into their streams of being.

It really was too early in the day to deal with all of that energy. She didn't dislike Stella Darling. More than anything Ellie felt a twitch of pity for her. At just under five feet, Stella could barely contain herself within her clothes. Ellie wasn't sure if they were too small for her, or if she just happened to own one of those unlucky bodies nothing seemed to fit right. Her hair was an unnatural red that flew out in every direction and she wore too much makeup. At the paper, Stella's specialty was weather and farm reports. She also knew a fair bit about natural remedies for everyday problems. She always had great tips for things like curing earaches with a hair dryer and various surefire stain removal techniques. Truth be told, Ellie often felt like she had more in common with Stella than she did anyone else. She recognized the invisibility magic wrapped around Stella's uncontrollable curves. But unlike Ellie, Stella fought it with everything she had. She tried too hard, and although she was not invisible physically the way Ellie could be, she slipped the minds of those around her. She invited herself loudly, brazenly to be included. It was that brazen energy that Ellie wasn't always keen to deal with at nine in the morning.

Dax shuffled to the next photos. They’d been taken off-scene: the inside lid of the box had claw marks on it, showing how desperately the woman had fought for her life, the inside of the coffin, the picture taken after the woman’s body had been removed, showing body-fluid stains and an empty water bottle.

This clear and luminous nature of mind is as changeless as space. It is not afflicted by desire and so on, the adventitious stains, which are sprung from incorrect thoughts. The nature of space is not changed through clouds, smoke, and so on. In the same way, the tathagatagarbha, the clear and luminous nature of the minds of all beings, is changeless. It is not in the slightest altered by the fact that the veils are purified or unpurified, and so on. There are adventitious defilements consisting of the affliction of birth, the affliction of karma, and the affliction of the mental poisons such as desire, hatred, mental blindness, and so on, all of which are sprung from improper conceptual activity, from incorrect thoughts that conceive in a way not corresponding to reality. The true state is changeless since it is by nature utterly pure and will constantly remain unafflicted by these adventitious defilements, which are able to be removed.

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It was the furthest thing she could imagine from her mother’s life, where sewing a neat hem was a laudable accomplishment and removing beet stains from a blouse was cause for celebration. Instead she would blunt pain and stanch bleeding and set bones. She would save lives. Yet in the end it happened just as her mother predicted: she met a man.

His efforts can be seen by now to have rested on a profound understanding or, at least, a remarkable intuitive grasp of the limitations of “Persia,” that is, of classical aristocracy. He knew, for example, that the loyalty it demanded, like that for any particular, nonuniversal society, rested on an arbitrary division of mankind into fellow citizens (friends) and strangers (enemies actual or potential). (Compare Plato’s analysis in the Republic of the defects of justice understood as helping friends and harming enemies.) He knew likewise that the class hierarchy without which, in the premodern condition of material scarcity, the unique Persian system of public education could not have been supported, rested not on merit or natural capacity but on the indefensible criterion of inherited wealth. (In the Republic, Plato was able to remove this stain from classical aristocracy only by the extreme expedient of abolishing the family.) These defects of the old order were to be removed in the new by the creation of a universal (and therefore all-inclusive) empire and by making positions of wealth, honor, and responsibility within it depend upon merit alone. Above all, Cyrus knew or sensed the weakness of that attachment to virtue and virtuous deeds as ends in themselves which the old Persian education prided itself on producing, an attachment on which the preference for old Persia and its way of life depended. To speak now only of the attachment itself and not of the virtue that was its object, it was not truly the result of education in the strict sense of the word. Rather, it had been beaten into the Persian peers both literally and figuratively (through praise and blame). And an attachment so produced is vulnerable to temptation. (Compare what Plato suggests, in the myth of Er which concludes the Republic, by his tale of the choice of lives.) Still, in providing that temptation, in suggesting to the peers that they no longer pursue what they take to be virtue for its own sake but rather for its rewards, Cyrus would appear to be more of a corrupter than a reformer.

When this tathagatagarbha is freed from all adventitious stains of delusion without any remainder, these stains having been removed by means of the discriminative wisdom realizing the non-existence of a self, this is enlightenment, the very essence of realization.

Funny, how good alcohol is at removing things, like blood stains from clothes, and accountability from people.

he lifts his slightly stained hands to sign, But what you are to me is something more than any words can explain. If someone found a way to remove you from existence, I would burn the world before making sure my soul found yours in the afterlife.

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When I saw her car pulled off to the side, I felt my entire being go hot with fear. I knew immediately that it had to be her. I’ve seen that car parked in the driveway next-door, and it was headed the same direction as me. It had to be her, and when I saw her tear-stained face, well . . . fuck, it made me drop the animosity, the pent-up anger, and all I wanted to do was help. Protect. Make sure she wasn’t scared. Make sure she was okay. I went into helping mode. And when she continued to cry in my truck, visibly shaking, she broke another wall that I had erected between the two of us, and before I knew it, I was holding her, stroking her hair, wanting to remove all the fear that was taking over her body. Because I know that fear. I feel it every time I drive in the snow. It’s the way my parents died . . . driving in a snowstorm.

Go get her, 'Amren hissed. 'Right now.' 'No,' I said, and hated the word. They gaped at me, and I wanted to roar at the sight of the blood coating them, at my unconscious and suffering brothers on the carpet before them. 'She's your mate,' Amren bit at me. 'Not your spy. Go get her.' 'She is my mate. And my spy,' I said too quickly. 'And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.' 'What?' Mor whispered. I caressed a mental finger down that bond now hidden deep, deep within us, and said, 'If they had removed her other glove, they would have seen a second tattoo on her right arm. The twin to the other. Inked last night, when we crept out, found a priestess, and I swore her in as my High Lady.' 'Not- not consort,' Amren blurted, blinking. I hadn't seen her surprised in... centuries. 'Not consort, not wife. Feyre is High Lady of the Night Court.' My equal in every way; she would wear my crown, sit on a throne beside mine. Never sidelined, never deigned to breeding and parties and child-rearing. My queen. As if in answer, a glimmer of love shuddered down the bond. I clamped down on the relief that threatened to shatter any calm I feigned having. 'You mean to tell me,' Mor breathed, 'that my High Lady is now surrounded by enemies?' A lethal sort of calm crept over her tear-stained face. 'I mean to tell you,' I said, watching the blood clot on Cassian's wings with Amren's tending. Beneath Mor's own hands. Azriel's bleeding at least eased. Enough to keep them alive until the healer got here. 'I mean to tell you,' I said again, my power building and rubbing itself against my skin, my bones, desperate to be unleashed upon the world, 'that your High Lady made a sacrifice for her court- and we will move when the time is right.' And then I'd assist my mate in ripping the Spring Court, Ianthe, those mortal queens, and the King of Hybern to shreds. Slowly. 'Until then?' Amren demanded. 'What of the Cauldron- of the book?' 'Until then,' I said, staring toward the door as if I might see her walk through it, laughing and vibrant and beautiful, 'we go to war.

He looks scared, almost. Not sad. Not mournful. But scared. His jaw hardened and his eyes soft and held on me with a concern that has me wanting to smooth out the line between his brows with my thumb. More than that, actually. I wish I could take out his soul and smooth it out too, remove every wrinkle and crease and stain and give it back to him as good as new.

If you've ever noticed white stains on your bathroom tiles, rough hair after a shower, or reduced water flow from taps, you're probably dealing with hard water problems. In many parts of India, water contains high amounts of calcium and magnesium salts. Over time, this causes scale buildup in pipes and appliances, as well as dull skin and faded clothes. Switching to soft water can significantly enhance your home experience. Let's see how. 1. What is Hard Water and Why is it a Problem? Hard water is water that has a high mineral content, especially calcium and magnesium. While these minerals are not harmful to drink, they cause big issues in household chores and maintenance: White spots and scaling on taps, showerheads, and utensils Reduced efficiency of geysers, washing machines, and RO filters Increased soap and detergent usage Dry skin and rough hair due to mineral deposits Faded clothes after a few washes According to studies, hard water can reduce appliance efficiency by up to 30% over time, leading to higher electricity bills and expensive repairs. 2. How Soft Water Solves These Problems Soft water is water where excess calcium and magnesium have been removed through a water softener. The result? Sparkling bathrooms and kitchens - No more stubborn white stains or scaling.  Healthy skin and silky hair - Soft water is gentle on the body.  Long-lasting appliances - Protects heaters, washing machines, and pipes.  Lower cleaning costs - Requires less soap, shampoo, and detergent.  Energy efficiency - Appliances work at full capacity without blockage. 3. Benefits of Installing a Water Softener in India Installing a home water softener can make a huge difference: Protects plumbing systems from clogging Saves money on repairs and replacements Eco-friendly option with reduced water wastage Low maintenance and long lifespan Ideal for Indian hard water conditions 4. Choosing the Right Water Softener When buying a water softener, look for: Capacity suitable for your family size Salt-based or salt-free technology, depending on water hardness Low-maintenance design Brand reliability and service availability Modern solutions like SOFTFLOW® Water Softeners are built for Indian water challenges. They are eco-friendly, easy to install, and protect both your health and home. 5. FAQs about Hard and Soft Water Q1: Is soft water safe to drink?  Yes, soft water is safe for most households, though the taste may be slightly different. Q2: How do I know if I have hard water?  Common signs include scaling, dry skin, dull hair, and high soap usage. Q3: How often should I maintain my water softener?  Most modern softeners need minimal maintenance - usually a salt refill every few months.

Your car deserves more than a basic wash, and professional detailing delivers results that last.  Buff & Beyond's Car Detailing  combines advanced chemistry with proven techniques to transform your vehicle inside and out. This deep dive is for car enthusiasts, daily drivers, and anyone curious about what separates professional detailing from DIY car care. You'll discover why certain products work better than others and how skilled technicians achieve that showroom finish. We'll explore the chemistry behind professional cleaning compounds and how they interact with different surfaces. You'll also learn about advanced paint correction techniques that remove scratches and swirl marks, plus protective coating applications that keep your car looking pristine for months. Table of Contents How pH levels affect different car surfaces Your Attractive Heading The molecular science of dirt and contaminant removal Chemical bonding between protective coatings and paint Why temperature and humidity impact detailing results Multi-point inspection processes for every vehicle Equipment calibration for optimal performance Before and after documentation methods How pH levels affect different car surfaces Different materials on your vehicle respond uniquely to various pH levels, making this knowledge crucial for  professional detailing . Car paint thrives with mildly acidic to neutral products (pH 6-7), while alkaline cleaners (pH 8-10) excel at breaking down organic contaminants like road grime and bug splatter. Chrome and aluminum surfaces require careful pH management – ​​anything too acidic can cause permanent etching, while excessive alkalinity may lead to oxidation. Your Attractive Heading Glass surfaces tolerate a wider pH range, but neutral to slightly alkaline cleaners prevent water spotting and streaking. Leather interiors demand pH-neutral products to maintain their natural oils and prevent cracking. Fabric upholstery responds well to mildly alkaline solutions for stain removal, but requires pH balancing afterward to prevent fiber damage. Professional detailers at facilities like Buff & Beyond's Car Detailing understand these nuances and select products accordingly, testing pH levels before application to ensure optimal results without surface damage. The molecular science of dirt and contaminant removal Dirt removal operates on fundamental molecular principles involving surfactants – molecules with both water-loving (hydrophilic) and oil-loving (lipophilic) ends. These cleaning agents reduce surface tension, allowing water to penetrate and lift away contaminants that would otherwise cling to paint surfaces. Different contaminants require specific molecular approaches. Tree sap and tar contain complex hydrocarbon chains that dissolve best in petroleum-based solvents. Iron fallout from brake dust forms molecular bonds with paint that require chelating agents – chemicals that grab onto metal particles and encapsulate them for safe removal. Road salt creates ionic bonds that water alone cannot break. Professional-grade cleaners use specialized surfactant blends that disrupt these ionic connections at the molecular level. Bug splatter contains proteins that denature under alkaline conditions, which is why bug removers typically maintain higher pH levels. The key lies in matching the molecular structure of the cleaning agent to the contaminant type.  This scientific approach prevents the aggressive scrubbing that damages clear coats and ensures complete removal without surface scratching. Chemical bonding between protective coatings and paint Modern protective coatings create chemical bonds with automotive paint through several mechanisms. Ceramic coatings utilize silicon dioxide molecules that form covalent bonds with the clear coat's polymer chains. More on : buffnbeyond.ca

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ProDentim is a cutting-edge oral health supplement crafted to naturally enhance the well-being of your teeth and gums. Packed with an advanced formula containing 3.5 billion probiotics and vital nutrients, it fosters a healthy oral microbiome, helping to combat gum problems, prevent plaque buildup, and eliminate bad breath. ## ProDentim: Naturally Support Healthy Teeth and Gums ProDentim is an innovative oral health supplement designed to naturally enhance the health of your teeth and gums. Its advanced formula delivers 3.5 billion probiotics and essential nutrients to foster a balanced oral microbiome, helping you combat gum problems, prevent plaque buildup, and eliminate bad breath. CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website ### Discover the Natural Path to a Brighter Smile with ProDentim Unlike conventional dental products that can disrupt the delicate balance of your oral bacteria, ProDentim utilizes natural, scientifically-backed ingredients to support a healthy mouth. ### What is ProDentim? ProDentim is a revolutionary dental health supplement, scientifically formulated to naturally promote strong teeth and healthy gums. It delivers a potent combination of 3.5 billion probiotics and essential nutrients to restore the balance of beneficial bacteria in your mouth. ProDentim is designed to help address common oral health issues, such as: * Gum discomfort * Inflammation * Bad breath While also supporting overall dental wellness. ProDentim's carefully selected probiotics work to reduce harmful bacteria responsible for tooth decay and gum disease, creating a healthier oral environment. These probiotics are combined with essential nutrients like calcium, vitamin D, and magnesium, known to strengthen teeth, enhance gum health, and protect enamel. With its 100% natural ingredients, ProDentim is a safe and easy addition to your daily routine. Its premium-quality formula not only combats bad breath but also helps fortify enamel and support bone health, thanks to its nutrient-rich composition. Whether you're already dealing with common dental problems or simply seeking a reliable, natural approach to oral care, ProDentim offers an ideal solution. ### How Does ProDentim Work? ProDentim combines 3.5 billion beneficial bacteria with natural ingredients to promote: * Strong teeth * Healthy gums * Lasting fresh breath It achieves this by restoring the balance of your oral microbiome. The formula includes clinically proven probiotics such as Lactobacillus paracasei and Lactobacillus reuteri, which are known to support gum health, reduce inflammation, and help maintain a thriving oral environment. Additional ingredients like Inulin encourage the growth of beneficial bacteria, while malic acid aids in stain removal and supports gum health. Tricalcium phosphate then steps in to strengthen enamel and help prevent decay. ProDentim addresses common concerns such as plaque, bad breath, and gum discomfort, aiming for complete oral wellness. ProDentim's chewable tablets dissolve smoothly in your mouth, making it a convenient addition to your daily routine. The refreshing peppermint flavor fights bad breath and leaves your mouth feeling clean and revitalized. Regular use may help reduce plaque buildup, improve gum resilience, and promote a brighter smile. ### Key Ingredients and Their Benefits Here's a breakdown of ProDentim's key ingredients and their potential benefits: * **Lactobacil

It was a stain that could never be removed,

ProDentim is a cutting-edge oral health supplement crafted to naturally enhance the well-being of your teeth and gums. Packed with an advanced formula containing 3.5 billion probiotics and vital nutrients, it fosters a healthy oral microbiome, helping to combat gum problems, prevent plaque buildup, and eliminate bad breath. ## ProDentim: Naturally Support Healthy Teeth and Gums ProDentim is an innovative oral health supplement designed to naturally enhance the health of your teeth and gums. Its advanced formula delivers 3.5 billion probiotics and essential nutrients to foster a balanced oral microbiome, helping you combat gum problems, prevent plaque buildup, and eliminate bad breath. CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website ### Discover the Natural Path to a Brighter Smile with ProDentim Unlike conventional dental products that can disrupt the delicate balance of your oral bacteria, ProDentim utilizes natural, scientifically-backed ingredients to support a healthy mouth. ### What is ProDentim? ProDentim is a revolutionary dental health supplement, scientifically formulated to naturally promote strong teeth and healthy gums. It delivers a potent combination of 3.5 billion probiotics and essential nutrients to restore the balance of beneficial bacteria in your mouth. ProDentim is designed to help address common oral health issues, such as: * Gum discomfort * Inflammation * Bad breath While also supporting overall dental wellness. ProDentim's carefully selected probiotics work to reduce harmful bacteria responsible for tooth decay and gum disease, creating a healthier oral environment. These probiotics are combined with essential nutrients like calcium, vitamin D, and magnesium, known to strengthen teeth, enhance gum health, and protect enamel. With its 100% natural ingredients, ProDentim is a safe and easy addition to your daily routine. Its premium-quality formula not only combats bad breath but also helps fortify enamel and support bone health, thanks to its nutrient-rich composition. Whether you're already dealing with common dental problems or simply seeking a reliable, natural approach to oral care, ProDentim offers an ideal solution. ### How Does ProDentim Work? ProDentim combines 3.5 billion beneficial bacteria with natural ingredients to promote: * Strong teeth * Healthy gums * Lasting fresh breath It achieves this by restoring the balance of your oral microbiome. The formula includes clinically proven probiotics such as Lactobacillus paracasei and Lactobacillus reuteri, which are known to support gum health, reduce inflammation, and help maintain a thriving oral environment. Additional ingredients like Inulin encourage the growth of beneficial bacteria, while malic acid aids in stain removal and supports gum health. Tricalcium phosphate then steps in to strengthen enamel and help prevent decay. ProDentim addresses common concerns such as plaque, bad breath, and gum discomfort, aiming for complete oral wellness. ProDentim's chewable tablets dissolve smoothly in your mouth, making it a convenient addition to your daily routine. The refreshing peppermint flavor fights bad breath and leaves your mouth feeling clean and revitalized. Regular use may help reduce plaque buildup, improve gum resilience, and promote a brighter smile. ### Key Ingredients and Their Benefits Here's a breakdown of ProDentim's key ingredients and their potential benefits: * **Lactobacil

ProDentim Reviews - Consumer Sees Instant Product Benefits ProDentim Reviews: Achieve a Healthier Smile Are you looking for a comprehensive solution to improve your oral health? ProDentim is a dietary supplement that combines probiotics and natural ingredients to balance and maintain a healthy oral microbiome. It goes beyond traditional brushing and flossing to address the root causes of dental issues. CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website CLICK HERE TO Visit The Official Website The Importance of Oral Health Many people underestimate the importance of oral health, yet it plays a crucial role in overall well-being. Despite investing in dental treatments, persistent problems like gum disease, tooth decay, and bad breath can persist. These issues often stem from an imbalance of bacteria in the mouth, where harmful bacteria overpower beneficial ones. How ProDentim Works to Restore Balance ProDentim works by rebalancing the oral microbiome, offering a more effective solution than standard toothpaste and mouthwashes. Instead of only addressing surface problems, ProDentim targets the underlying cause by promoting a healthy bacterial balance. Each chewable tablet contains 3.5 billion probiotic strains and a blend of natural ingredients to support your gums, teeth, and overall health. Benefits of ProDentim * Restores the natural balance of bacteria in the mouth * Prevents and manages common oral health problems * Reduces harmful bacteria that cause cavities and gum inflammation * Supports stronger teeth and healthier gums * Offers a natural, holistic approach to oral health * GMO, gluten, and stimulant-free * Non-habit forming * Manufactured in an FDA-approved, GMP-certified facility ProDentim's Unique Approach: Oral Probiotic Candies ProDentim delivers 3.5 billion beneficial bacteria in each candy, designed to maintain a healthy oral microbiome. A balanced microbiome helps: * Reduce gum inflammation * Prevent tooth decay * Enhance the appearance of your smile Beyond Oral Health: Additional Benefits The probiotics in ProDentim also offer benefits for overall well-being: * Supports healthy digestion * Boosts the immune system * Helps maintain clear sinuses Key Ingredients for a Healthier Mouth ProDentim’s effectiveness comes from its blend of probiotics and natural ingredients: * **B.lactis BL-04:** Improves gut health and immune function, balances oral bacteria, and promotes healthy gums. * **Inulin:** A prebiotic fiber that nourishes beneficial bacteria in the mouth and gut, protecting against tooth decay and gum disease. * **Lactobacillus Paracasei:** Contributes to a balanced oral environment, supporting both oral health and immune function. * **Malic Acid:** Protects tooth enamel, stimulates saliva production, and helps whiten teeth by removing stains. * **Lactobacillus Reuteri:** Reduces inflammation and prevents harmful bacteria from thriving, lowering the risk of tooth decay and gum issues. * **Peppermint:** Offers natural antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties, soothes gums, and reduces bad breath. * **Tricalcium Phosphate:** Strengthens tooth enamel, making teeth more resistant to decay. Real Customer Experiences: ProDentim Reviews ProDentim has received positive feedback from users, with many reporting visible improvements in their oral health. Customers mention reduced gum inflammation, whiter teeth, and enhanced dental hygiene. Here are a few examples: * Joh

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