Stephen A Smith Quotes

Asleep by the Smiths Vapour Trail by Ride Scarborough Fair by Simon & Garfunkel A Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harum Dear Prudence by the Beatles Gypsy by Suzanne Vega Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues Daydream by Smashing Pumpkins Dusk by Genesis (before Phil Collins was even in the band!) MLK by U2 Blackbird by the Beatles Landslide by Fleetwood Mac Asleep by the Smiths (again!) -Charlie's mixtape

Mouse sandwiches and open graves?" Meredith arched an elegant eyebrow. "I think you're getting Stephen King mixed up with Lewis Carroll.

You don't have the right to hold somebody accountable for standards you refuse to apply to yourself.

As you sit on the hillside, or lie prone under the trees of the forest, or sprawl wet-legged by a mountain stream, the great door, that does not look like a door, opens.

A child is not an adult, a child didn't ask to be here. Any man that doesn't take care of his responsibilities to his family and to his children, do me a favor STOP calling yourself a man..at least have the decency to admit that you're a boy. You don't know what manhood is.

Oh my dear, dear Stephen, how can I ever repay you for such unselfishness? But the happiness you hoped to win for me will never be mine.

If aliens ever visit us, I think the outcome would be much as when Christopher Columbus first landed in America, which didn’t turn out very well for the Native Americans. —STEPHEN HAWKING

I love it when a plan comes together! - Hannibal Smith, A-Team

I didn't make any mistake. I know that when he nearly asked me to marry him it was only on impulse It is part if a follow-my-leader game of second-best we have all been playing - Rose with Simon, Simon with me, me with Stephen and Stephen, I suppose, with that detestable Leda Fox-Cotton. It isn't a very good game; the people you play it with are apt to get hurt.

And yet as my eyes turned to Stephen facing the sunrise from Simon in the darkness of my mind, it was as if Simon had been the living face and Stephen's the one I was imagining - or a photograph, a painting, something beautiful but not really alive for me. My whole heart was so full of Simon that even my pity for Stephen wasn't quite real - it was only something I felt I ought to feel, more from my head than from my heart. And I knew I ought to pity him all the more because I could pity him so little.

Stephen Colbert: Here’s the thing: You said to me and to many other people here years ago never to thank you, because we owe you nothing. Jon Stewart: [quietly] That’s right. Stephen Colbert: It’s one of the few times I’ve known you to be dead wrong… We owe you because we learned from you, by example, how to do a show with intention, with clarity. How to treat people with respect. You are infuriatingly good at your job, okay?

Sometimes you gotta listen your brain to save your heart.

Go baby go,” he yelled to the hearse’s stereo blaring out Queen’s, ‘Another One Bites the Dust’.

appears the Human Rights legislation will remain on the statute books. The PM won’t entertain its repeal.” “Typical,” huffed Nortly, “I only voted Leave to get rid of it.

Honoring the value of competence and steadfastness requires a generosity of spirit and a curbing of the passion for envy, traits that few people value and fewer still cultivate and acquire. Not until there is more of Smith and less of Hobbes in the human heart, will the majority of people prefer peaceful and boring market relations to the violent and exciting relations between coercer and coerced, predator and victim

You see, you have classical features,” I explained, in a matter-of-fact voice. “It seems a waste when I’m not a gentleman.” He grinned — a little sarcastic sort of grin. “Don’t talk like that,” I said quickly. “Gentlemen are men who behave like gentlemen. And you certainly do.” He shook his head. “You can only be a gentleman if you’re born one, Miss Cassandra.” “Stephen, that’s old-fashioned nonsense,” I said. “Really, it is. And, by the way, will you please stop calling me ‘Miss’ Cassandra.

The memories that went with the house—the sense of unfairness and failure, the patched hole in the kitchen wall—were too raw. Frank felt as though he had been tricked out of his entire life and the best part of that life had been lived at 51 Smith Lane,

...Nature becomes your teacher, and from her you will learn what is beautiful and who you are and what is your special quest in life and whither you should go...You live on manna vouchsafed to you daily, miraculously. You stretch out arms for hidden gifts, you year toward the moonbeams and the stars, you listen with new ears to bird's songs and the murmurs of trees and streams....From day to day you keep your log, your day-book of the soul, and you may think at first that it is a mere record of travel and of facts; but something else will be entering into it, poetry, the new poetry of your life, and it will be evident to a seeing eye that you are gradually becoming an artist in life, you are learning the gentle art of tramping, and it is giving you an artist's joy in creation.

I think it worthy of note that I never felt happier in my life - despite sorrow for Father, pity for Rose, embarrassment about Stephen's poetry and no justification for hope as regards our family's general outlook. Perhaps it is because I have satisfied my creative urge; or it may be due to the thought of eggs for tea.

We create ourselves by our choices. —Søren Kierkegaard

A good reputation is sign of success".

When practiced, Sabbath-keeping is an active protest against a culture that is always on, always available and always looking for something else to do.

I knew I must not join him, but how could I tell that to the one who taught me how to live?

Ben was waiting outside his door when he stepped into the hall. “Well don’t you just look like something out of a Stephen King novel!

Clark Ashton Smith, Henry Kuttner, and August Derleth),

That was perfect, because Tracey knows Jon better than anybody, and what he might really want, and what he’s capable of saying he wants. Plus, also, I think in the back of both my head and Stephen’s was, if Jon is really pissed afterward, we can say, “Hey, Tracey said it was okay!” STEPHEN COLBERT: Find somebody to throw under the bus—that’s the first rule of show business.

The Sittaford Mystery (1931) by Agatha Christie The Nine Tailors (1934) by Dorothy L. Sayers The Corpse in the Snowman (1941) by Nicholas Blake Tied Up in Tinsel (1972) by Ngaio Marsh The Shining (1977) by Stephen King Gorky Park (1981) by Martin Cruz Smith Smilla’s Sense of Snow (1992) by Peter Høeg A Simple Plan (1993) by Scott Smith The Ice Harvest (2000) by Scott Phillips Raven Black (2006) by Ann Cleeves

Who do we know in Canberra who wears a suit?’ Libby asked. ‘More importantly, who looks good?’ I asked. ‘Stephen Smith,’ Libby offered. ‘Wayne Swan,’ Denise countered. ‘Peter Garrett?’ Libby asked ‘Greg Combet, most definitely,’ I insisted. ‘Julia Gillard,’ Libby said adamantly. Both Denise and I looked at her strangely. ‘What? Seriously, she wears a suit better than any of those guys. Especially that purple one she has.

Having to amuse myself during those earlier years, I read voraciously and widely. Mythic matter and folklore made up much of that reading—retellings of the old stories (Mallory, White, Briggs), anecdotal collections and historical investigations of the stories' backgrounds—and then I stumbled upon the Tolkien books which took me back to Lord Dunsany, William Morris, James Branch Cabell, E.R. Eddison, Mervyn Peake and the like. I was in heaven when Lin Carter began the Unicorn imprint for Ballantine and scoured the other publishers for similar good finds, delighting when I discovered someone like Thomas Burnett Swann, who still remains a favourite. This was before there was such a thing as a fantasy genre, when you'd be lucky to have one fantasy book published in a month, little say the hundreds per year we have now. I also found myself reading Robert E. Howard (the Cormac and Bran mac Morn books were my favourites), Lovecraft, Clark Ashton Smith and finally started reading science fiction after coming across Andre Norton's Huon of the Horn. That book wasn't sf, but when I went to read more by her, I discovered everything else was. So I tried a few and that led me to Clifford Simak, Roger Zelazny and any number of other fine sf writers. These days my reading tastes remain eclectic, as you might know if you've been following my monthly book review column in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. I'm as likely to read Basil Johnston as Stephen King, Jeanette Winterson as Harlan Ellison, Barbara Kingsolver as Patricia McKillip, Andrew Vachss as Parke Godwin—in short, my criteria is that the book must be good; what publisher's slot it fits into makes absolutely no difference to me.

But regular confiscation can exert a chilling effect on economic activity—once people begin to believe that there is little point in doing anything if the fruits of their enterprise will merely provoke further confiscation.

My whole heart was so full of Simon that even my pity for Stephen wasn't quite real - it was only something I felt I ought to feel , more from my head than my heart . And I knew I ought to pity him all the more because I could pity him so little

I’ll be damned if I trust either side. As far as I’m concerned, too many lobbyists influence our politics, the positions taken by politicians and, ultimately, because the politicians are acting on behalf of powerful interests rather than acting and speaking as independent representatives answerable to the public, their very ability to conduct themselves with traditional decorum is affected. As a result, there’s no compromise, very little gets accomplished for the American people, and this country grows more and more divided every time there’s an election. And the cycle continues, and the situation only gets worse.

I wished at that moment that the Wests had killed me, it would have been a merciful release from the hell that DC Smith was putting me through. This barrage of questions by DC Smith and his heavy-handedness into this inquiry and his bullying barrack-room interrogation style of interviewing had left me feeling shamed.

When God became flesh, every ordinary human life was validated as sacred. The fact that God became human and spent most of His life in obscurity as a carpenter in a small village called Nazareth gives us perspective. Through the incarnation, we learn that every life has dignity and significance; every ordinary life matters.

Which would be nicest — Jane with a touch of Charlotte, or Charlotte with a touch of Jane?” This is the kind of discussion I like very much but I wanted to get on with my journal, so I just said: “Fifty per cent each way would be perfect,” and started to write determinedly. Now it is nearly midnight. I feel rather like a Brontë myself, writing by the light of a guttering candle with my fingers so numb I can hardly hold the pencil. I wish Stephen hadn’t made me think of food, because I have been hungry ever since; which is ridiculous as I had a good egg tea not six hours ago. Oh, dear — I have just thought that if Stephen was worrying about me being hungry, he was probably hungry himself. We are a household!

I absolutely did consider Ben a friend, and still do. But beyond that I’m not particularly close—I’m close to my family, in general, and I have friends, and I’m close to them, but probably not in the traditional way that people assume friendships are like. I’m not a big hangout guy. When I say we’re friends, we’re friends, but it’s not like we summer together, or we went out to dinner every week. I don’t really do that with anybody. STEPHEN

He maligned war hero John McCain for “getting caught” in Vietnam, even as McCain was dying; and then he maligned him again after his death. He fanned the proverbial flames of existing racial tensions and exacerbated the situation with his petulant undiplomatic style. He then went somewhere beyond petty upon the death of Georgia representative John Lewis, a true civil rights hero, when he simply dismissed him because “he didn’t have nice things to say about me.

The Buried Bishop’s a gridlocked scrum, an all-you-can-eat of youth: ‘Stephen Hawking and the Dalai Lama, right; they posit a unified truth’; short denim skirts, Gap and Next shirts, Kurt Cobain cardigans, black Levi’s; ‘Did you see that oversexed pig by the loos, undressing me with his eyes?’; that song by the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl booms in my diaphragm and knees; ‘Like, my only charity shop bargains were headlice, scabies, and fleas’; a fug of hairspray, sweat and Lynx, Chanel No. 5, and smoke; well-tended teeth with zero fillings, revealed by the so-so joke — ‘Have you heard the news about Schrodinger’s Cat? It died today; wait — it didn’t, did, didn’t, did…’; high-volume discourse on who’s the best Bond … Sartre, Bart Simpson, Barthes’s myths; ‘Make mine a double’; George Michael’s stubble; ‘Like, music expired with the Smiths’; and futures all starry; fetal think-tankers, judges, and bankers…power and money, like Pooh Bear and honey, stick fast — I don’t knock it, it’s me; and speaking of loins, ‘Has anyone told you you look like Demi Moore from Ghost?’; roses are red and violets are blue, I’ve a surplus of butter and Ness is warm toast.

Stephen Colbert: [sitting to Stewart’s right at the anchor desk] Actually, Jon, we’re not quite done. Jon Stewart: [rolling away from Colbert on his chair and nearly toppling off the riser] Don’t do this. Stephen Colbert: [rolling after Stewart and grabbing him by the arm] No—you can’t stop anyone, because they don’t work for you anymore! Huge mistake! Jon Stewart: Please don’t do this. Stephen Colbert: Here’s the thing: You said to me and to many other people here years ago never to thank you, because we owe you nothing. Jon Stewart: [quietly] That’s right. Stephen Colbert: It’s one of the few times I’ve known you to be dead wrong… We owe you because we learned from you, by example, how to do a show with intention, with clarity. How to treat people with respect. You are infuriatingly good at your job, okay? [Stewart covers his eyes, which appear to be filled with tears] And all of us who were lucky enough to work with you—and you can edit this out later—for sixteen years are better at our jobs because we got to watch you do yours. And we are better people for having known you… Personally, I do not know how this son of a poor, Appalachian turd miner—I do not know what I would do if you hadn’t brought me on this show. I’d be back in those hills, mining turds with Pappy! Jon—and it’s almost over—I know you are not asking for this, but on behalf of so many people whose lives you changed over the past sixteen years, thank you. And now, I believe your line—correct me if I’m wrong—is “We’ll be right back.

Among the clay tablets brought back by Rassam from Ashurbanipal's library, were fragments of the Babylonian story of the Deluge. These, as translated by George Smith, aroused immense interest, which led to the desire that search be made for the missing fragments. The explorers of the Heroic Period had uncovered palaces, bas-reliefs, and statues, but had given the insignificant tablets secondary consideration. From the library chamber of Ashurbanipal's palace Rassam had extracted only those tablets which could be conveniently reached. With the power to read attained meanwhile, the tablets had become fully as important as the sculptures, if not more so. George Smith's expedition indicated, therefore, that the Modern Scientific Period of excavation had begun. Its end is not yet in sight, since its goal is the investigation of all feasible localities in the Mesopotamian valley, with the purpose of throwing all available light upon the history and life of these ancient peoples.

Sailboat Table (table by Quint Hankle) The Voyage of the Narwhal, by Andrea Barrett Complete Stories, by Clarice Lispector Boy Kings of Texas, by Domingo Martinez The Marrow Thieves, by Cherie Dimaline A Brief History of Seven Killings, by Marlon James There There, by Tommy Orange Citizen: An American Lyric, by Claudia Rankine Underland, by Robert Macfarlane The Undocumented Americans, by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio Deacon King Kong, by James McBride The Dutch House, by Ann Patchett Will and Testament, by Vigdis Hjorth Every Man Dies Alone, by Hans Fallada The Door, by Magda Svabo The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth Fates and Furies, by Lauren Groff The Overstory, by Richard Power Night Train, by Lise Erdrich Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado The Penguin Book of the Modern American Short Story, edited by John Freeman Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates Birds of America, by Lorrie Moore Mongrels, by Stephen Graham Jones The Office of Historical Corrections, by Danielle Evans Tenth of December, by George Saunders Murder on the Red River, by Marcie R. Rendon Leave the World Behind, by Rumaan Alam Ceremony, by Leslie Marmon Silko On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, by Ocean Vuong The Unwomanly Face of War, by Svetlana Alexievich Standard Deviation, by Katherine Heiny All My Puny Sorrows, by Miriam Toews The Death of the Heart, by Elizabeth Bowen Mean Spirit, by Linda Hogan NW, by Zadie Smith Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Firekeeper’s Daughter, by Angeline Boulley Erasure, by Percival Everett Sharks in the Time of Saviors, by Kawai Strong Washburn Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami Books for Banned Love Sea of Poppies, by Amitav Ghosh The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje Euphoria, by Lily King The Red and the Black, by Stendahl Luster, by Raven Leilani Asymmetry, by Lisa Halliday All the Pretty Horses, by Cormac McCarthy Middlesex, by Jeffrey Eugenides The Vixen, by Francine Prose Legends of the Fall, by Jim Harrison The Winter Soldier, by Daniel Mason

SCULLEY. Pepsi executive recruited by Jobs in 1983 to be Apple’s CEO, clashed with and ousted Jobs in 1985. JOANNE SCHIEBLE JANDALI SIMPSON. Wisconsin-born biological mother of Steve Jobs, whom she put up for adoption, and Mona Simpson, whom she raised. MONA SIMPSON. Biological full sister of Jobs; they discovered their relationship in 1986 and became close. She wrote novels loosely based on her mother Joanne (Anywhere but Here), Jobs and his daughter Lisa (A Regular Guy), and her father Abdulfattah Jandali (The Lost Father). ALVY RAY SMITH. A cofounder of Pixar who clashed with Jobs. BURRELL SMITH. Brilliant, troubled hardware designer on the original Mac team, afflicted with schizophrenia in the 1990s. AVADIS “AVIE” TEVANIAN. Worked with Jobs and Rubinstein at NeXT, became chief software engineer at Apple in 1997. JAMES VINCENT. A music-loving Brit, the younger partner with Lee Clow and Duncan Milner at the ad agency Apple hired. RON WAYNE. Met Jobs at Atari, became first partner with Jobs and Wozniak at fledgling Apple, but unwisely decided to forgo his equity stake. STEPHEN WOZNIAK. The star electronics geek at Homestead High; Jobs figured out how to package and market his amazing circuit boards and became his partner in founding Apple. DEL YOCAM. Early Apple employee who became the General Manager of the Apple II Group and later Apple’s Chief Operating Officer. INTRODUCTION How This Book Came to Be In the early summer of 2004, I got a phone call from Steve Jobs. He had been scattershot friendly to me over the years, with occasional bursts of intensity, especially when he was launching a new product that he wanted on the cover of Time or featured on CNN, places where I’d worked. But now that I was no longer at either of those places, I hadn’t heard from him much. We talked a bit about the Aspen Institute, which I had recently joined, and I invited him to speak at our summer campus in Colorado. He’d be happy to come, he said, but not to be onstage. He wanted instead to take a walk so that we could talk. That seemed a bit odd. I didn’t yet

Every time we choose to live in a daily rhythm, we are consciously allowing the larger story of God’s work in the world, instead of culture, to shape our lives.

For tramping is the grammar of living. Few people learn the grammar - but it is worth while.

It does not matter the field in which you operate, the competition will be always there.

Well, I thought it was funny. -Stephen Colbert

Did your parents die of the flu?’ ‘Yeah, I don’t really know how long ago that was now though. It’s hard to keep counting the days.’ ‘You’re right about that,’ Nick agreed. ‘But it’s been about two months since the pandemic.’ ‘Two

There are no promises in life. All we can do is try hard, give everything our best shot and stay true to ourselves.

Fire on the Mountain, by Anita Desai Sailboat Table (table by Quint Hankle) The Voyage of the Narwhal, by Andrea Barrett Complete Stories, by Clarice Lispector Boy Kings of Texas, by Domingo Martinez The Marrow Thieves, by Cherie Dimaline A Brief History of Seven Killings, by Marlon James There There, by Tommy Orange Citizen: An American Lyric, by Claudia Rankine Underland, by Robert Macfarlane The Undocumented Americans, by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio Deacon King Kong, by James McBride The Dutch House, by Ann Patchett Will and Testament, by Vigdis Hjorth Every Man Dies Alone, by Hans Fallada The Door, by Magda Szabó The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth Fates and Furies, by Lauren Groff The Overstory, by Richard Power Night Train, by Lise Erdrich Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado The Penguin Book of the Modern American Short Story, edited by John Freeman Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates Birds of America, by Lorrie Moore Mongrels, by Stephen Graham Jones The Office of Historical Corrections, by Danielle Evans Tenth of December, by George Saunders Murder on the Red River, by Marcie R. Rendon Leave the World Behind, by Rumaan Alam Ceremony, by Leslie Marmon Silko On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, by Ocean Vuong The Unwomanly Face of War, by Svetlana Alexievich Standard Deviation, by Katherine Heiny All My Puny Sorrows, by Miriam Toews The Death of the Heart, by Elizabeth Bowen Mean Spirit, by Linda Hogan NW, by Zadie Smith Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Firekeeper’s Daughter, by Angeline Boulley Erasure, by Percival Everett Sharks in the Time of Saviors, by Kawai Strong Washburn Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami

Nearly all of these devices have one thing in common;

I don’t really take much notice of rumours Sir,” Andrew said, straight faced. “Good man. Neither do I. Mostly lies and the rest exaggeration.

Stephen Covey, in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, said there are only two human problems: (1) knowing what you want, but not knowing how to get it; and (2) not knowing what you want.

Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. (1 Corinthians 13:1-13)

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage” (Psalm 84:5 NIV

Author Max De Pree has written, “The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality.”1

To walk in the way is more than managing sins or bad habits. To walk in the way is to walk toward transformation—toward change at the DNA level of our souls.

Jesus will upset every apple cart, every temple table, every surface response, every false motivation and every private longing we ignore in our hearts. The ways of Jesus will make us examine every area of our lives.

Listening to God requires a commitment to turn down the volume of outer noise and to be quiet, to become centered and focused.

Let me clarify this even further: The abundant life comes down to a daily life, not just a quality of life that awaits us in heaven.

Listen. Do you hear that? It is the Voice of Love calling: “Come forth, I love you. I know, it’s not easy, but I’ll be with you. Friends will help too. I know you don’t think you can, but trust Me. Yes, it will hurt, but I love you. The life I promised you is waiting. Keep stumbling forward. I love you. I always have.” God is kind, but he’s not soft. In kindness he takes us firmly by the hand and leads us into radical life-change. (Rom. 2:4 MSG)

Looking for Family When I first became a follower of Jesus, I had high hopes for finding brothers and sisters, even fathers and mothers, who could help me grow as a new believer. The Christian language of family deeply appealed to me. It sounded like a place of belonging. I imagined times when the fatted calf would be roasted for the next few prodigals who arrived home. I looked for small groups, church meetings, and the fellowship of the “one anothers”1 to offer me what I thought was the norm for the Christian experience of life. I have found that I am not alone in my quest. Many of us are looking for the same thing. Yet our search for a place to belong and for a people to “do” life with often leaves us disappointed and disillusioned. No matter how hard we try, no matter how many places we look, friendship and community can be a superficial experience that never satisfies the soul. We long for the deep friendships of David and Jonathan and Ruth and Naomi, but with the busyness of life, who has time to foster such friendships? What was meant to be community often turns into “catch up” times over coffee where we share safe stories of vacations and children. What God has reminded me is that in every group, every family, and every church, people are wearing their own graveclothes. So am I. But I forget this so often, hoping that this group could be the place where I can finally deal with something important in my life, and all my needs will be met—finally.

There’s nothing like the written Word of God for showing you the way to salvation” (2 Tim. 3:16 MSG

I knew I hadn’t been the most innocent of victims, but I didn’t deserve this. DC Smith stood and grinned at me as he thanked me and left the room, leaving me to cry and to ponder on his not very adept handling of the situation.

NOVEMBER 29 “Chevalier” Wikoff Lincoln, on this day in 1861, read to his cabinet part of his first annual message to Congress. Subsequently the message—to be delivered on December 3—was, however, prematurely leaked to the press, prompting an investigation of Henry Wikoff and the first lady. In her first year in the White House, Mary Lincoln held evening soirees in the downstairs Blue Room. Her guests were mostly men who doted on her and, as journalist Henry Villard noted, Mary was vulnerable to “a common set of men and women whose bare-faced flattery easily gained controlling influence over her.” One such flatterer was Wikoff, a European adventurer who was an intimate of the French emperor, Napoleon. The New York Herald sent Wikoff to Washington as a secret correspondent for them. Wikoff charmed his way into Mary’s salon to become, as Villard claimed, a “guide in matters of social etiquette, domestic arrangements, and personal requirements, including her toilette.” The “Chevalier” Wikoff escorted Mary on her shopping sprees as an advisor, and repaid the first lady with stories in the Herald about her lavish spending. When the Herald published excerpts of Lincoln’s annual message, it was alleged that Wikoff was the leak and Mary his source. A House judiciary committee investigated and Wikoff claimed that it was not Mary but the White House gardener, John Watt, who was his source, and Watt confirmed Wikoff’s claim. As reporter Ben Poore wrote, “Mr. Lincoln had visited the Capitol and urged the Republicans on the Committee to spare him disgrace, so Watt’s improbable story was received and Wikoff liberated.” In February 1862, a reporter named Matthew Hale Smith of the Boston Journal showed Lincoln proof that Wikoff was working for the Herald. “Give me those papers and sit here till I return,” said the president on his way to confront Wikoff. He returned to tell Smith that the “chevalier” had been “driven from the Mansion [White House] that night.

siblings and was raised by his mother and father, Stephen and Viola Engel Armstrong. From an early age, he showed tremendous interest in the night sky, and spent much time looking at the stars through a telescope owned by one of his neighbors. The Ford 'Tin Goose' - image by Ford Tri-Motor creative commons Neil was only six when he enjoyed his first airplane ride, leaving the ground in Warren, Ohio. His father accompanied him up into the sky in a Ford Trimotor, also known as the Tin Goose. You could say that history was in the making that day because it stimulated Neil’s fascination with aviation, space and the skies.

Passion never fails....

Regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it” (Colossians 3:14).

Famed novelist Victor Hugo has reminded us: “It is nothing to die; it is dreadful not to live.

• While Rommel was going to see Hitler to beg for more tanks and a tighter command structure, Eisenhower was visited by Churchill, who was coming to the supreme commander to beg a favor. He wanted to go along on the invasion, on HMS Belfast. (“Of course, no one likes to be shot at,” Eisenhower later remarked, “but I must say that more people wanted in than wanted out on this one.”) As Eisenhower related the story, “I told him he couldn’t do it. I was in command of this operation and I wasn’t going to risk losing him. He was worth too much to the Allied cause. “He thought a moment and said, ‘You have the operational command of all forces, but you are not responsible administratively for the makeup of the crews.’ “And I said, ‘Yes, that’s right.’ “He said, ‘Well, then I can sign on as a member of the crew of one of His Majesty’s ships, and there’s nothing you can do about it.’ “I said, ‘That’s correct. But, Prime Minister, you will make my burden a lot heavier if you do it.’ ” Churchill said he was going to do it anyway. Eisenhower had his chief of staff, General Smith, call King George VI to explain the problem. The king told Smith, “You boys leave Winston to me.” He called Churchill to say, “Well, as long as you feel that it is desirable to go along, I think it is my duty to go along with you.” Churchill gave up.

Transformation involves working through our disappointments and disillusionments in life.

We have hope in our transformation when we realize that we see today, and God sees eternity.

We have dumbed down what it means to be part of the church so much that it means almost nothing, even to people who already say they are part of the church.

It's the bright one, It's the right one, that's success.

Staying informed and up to everything is a key for being competitive on the market.

#11—What if I could only subtract to solve problems? From 2008 to 2009, I began to ask myself, “What if I could only subtract to solve problems?” when advising startups. Instead of answering, “What should we do?” I tried first to hone in on answering, “What should we simplify?” For instance, I always wanted to tighten the conversion fishing net (the percentage of visitors who sign up or buy) before driving a ton of traffic to one of my portfolio companies. One of the first dozen startups I worked with was named Gyminee. It was rebranded Daily Burn, and at the time, they didn’t have enough manpower to do a complete redesign of the site. Adding new elements would’ve been time-consuming, but removing them wasn’t. As a test, we eliminated roughly 70% of the “above the fold” clickable elements on their homepage, focusing on the single most valuable click. Conversions immediately improved 21.1%. That quick-and-dirty test informed later decisions for much more expensive development. The founders, Andy Smith and Stephen Blankenship, made a lot of great decisions, and the company was acquired by IAC in 2010. I’ve since applied this “What if I could only subtract . . . ?” to my life in many areas, and I sometimes rephrase it as “What should I put on my not-to-do list?

My heart weighs heavy from all of the books I have not yet written

How the right hand became disabled would be a long story for the left to tell,” he wrote to William Stephens Smith. “It was by one of those follies from which good cannot come, but ill may.

But he [Stephen], full of the Holy Spirit, gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. And he said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened, and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:55–56)

Breathless living is anything but the abundant life. The pace at which we live is not sustainable.

His soul was shaped by the cadence of Sabbath keeping and seasonal festivals that were intended to help Him and all people to remember God's faithfulness, protection, and provision.

Is there a way to choose a few things and do them well rather than do a lot of things halfway or not at all? Can we accept the fact that we may be in a season when we need to say no with the understanding that the season will not last forever?

In her broadcasts, speeches, and newspaper columns, ER would challenge conventional thinking about women and work. “Isn’t it a fact that women have always worked, often very hard?” ER asked an audience in 1936. “Did anyone make a fuss about it until they began to get paid for their work?”10

My friends,” he began with good cheer, “how do you like this way of coming back into the Union?” He went on to explain that he and his fellow soldiers had felt the need of a summer outing, “and thought we would take it at the North.” They might be conquerors, he said—“this part of Pennsylvania is ours today; we’ve got it, we hold it, we can destroy it, or do what we please with it”—but they were also Christian gentlemen and would act accordingly. “You are quite welcome to remain here and to make yourselves entirely at home—so long as you behave yourselves pleasantly and agreeably as you are doing now. Are we not a fine set of fellows?” With his honeyed words he had the crowd in the palm of his hand, only to be interrupted by a querulous, impatient Jubal Early. Old Jube forced his way through the onlookers to confront Extra Billy and snarled, “General Smith, what the devil are you about? Stopping the head of this column in this cursed town!” Not the least taken aback, Extra Billy replied, “Having a little fun, General, which is good for all of us, and at the same time teaching these people something that will be good for them and won’t do us any harm.

The recent revelation regarding the unethical sourcing of data for generative AI models highlights a pressing concern in the technology industry. A report20 by Alex Reisner exposed that major tech giants, including Meta, used copyrighted books to train their language models, violating intellectual property rights. Notable authors like Stephen King, Zadie Smith, and Michael Pollan have been victims of this unauthorized data harvesting.

And those monsters saw not a young man with a sword but a scarred and screaming horror with the rising red doom of the sun at his back and a hellishly shrieking, flashing, living sword in his hands.

Sailboat Table (table by Quint Hankle) The Voyage of the Narwhal, by Andrea Barrett Complete Stories, by Clarice Lispector Boy Kings of Texas, by Domingo Martinez The Marrow Thieves, by Cherie Dimaline A Brief History of Seven Killings, by Marlon James There There, by Tommy Orange Citizen: An American Lyric, by Claudia Rankine Underland, by Robert Macfarlane The Undocumented Americans, by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio Deacon King Kong, by James McBride The Dutch House, by Ann Patchett Will and Testament, by Vigdis Hjorth Every Man Dies Alone, by Hans Fallada The Door, by Magda Svabo The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth Fates and Furies, by Lauren Groff The Overstory, by Richard Power Night Train, by Lise Erdrich Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado The Penguin Book of the Modern American Short Story, edited by John Freeman Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates Birds of America, by Lorrie Moore Mongrels, by Stephen Graham Jones The Office of Historical Corrections, by Danielle Evans Tenth of December, by George Saunders Murder on the Red River, by Marcie R. Rendon Leave the World Behind, by Rumaan Alam Ceremony, by Leslie Marmon Silko On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, by Ocean Vuong The Unwomanly Face of War, by Svetlana Alexievich Standard Deviation, by Katherine Heiny All My Puny Sorrows, by Miriam Toews The Death of the Heart, by Elizabeth Bowen Mean Spirit, by Linda Hogan NW, by Zadie Smith Being Mortal, by Atul Gawande Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie Firekeeper’s Daughter, by Angeline Boulley Erasure, by Percival Everett Sharks in the Time of Saviors, by Kawai Strong Washburn Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami

The same unction, the same zeal, the same Holy Ghost power is at our command as it was at the command of Stephen and the apostles.

G. W. Smith had failed Robert E. Lee’s test for command in battle, and from that verdict there was no appeal.

You can criticize me. You can crucify me. You can love me. You can hate me. Just don't make the mistake of calling me inauthentic, because you'd be a damn liar.

One can frequently recognize a woman of Real Society by the way she dresses. Real Society women’s clothes have a way of staying in style longer than other people’s because Real Society fashions do not change markedly from year to year. Neither the junior-cut mink coat nor the beaver jacket has gone through many transitions since the introduction of the designs, nor has the cut of the classic camel’s hair topper. The short-sleeved, round-collared McMullen blouse is ageless, and the hemline of the Bermuda short has hardly been known to fluctuate. What is more classic than a double strand of good pearls? The poplin raincoat is as suited to suburban shopping today as it was to the Smith campus in 1953.

don’t like to judge an administration’s overall significance on a moment-to-moment basis. That’s best viewed through the prism of history. Partially as a result, I’m neither a Democrat nor a Republican, but a registered Independent. I’ll be damned if I trust either side. As far as I’m concerned, too many lobbyists influence our politics, the positions taken by politicians and, ultimately, because the politicians are acting on behalf of powerful interests rather than acting and speaking as independent representatives answerable to the public, their very ability to conduct themselves with traditional decorum is affected. As a result, there’s no compromise, very little gets accomplished for the American people, and this country grows more and more divided every time there’s an election. And the cycle continues, and the situation only gets worse. I’ll let history be the judge of presidents in the grand sweep of things, but morality and statesmanship are day-to-day issues that I track closely. Is a president looking out for the best interests of the country or for himself? Do you present yourself publicly as president

It takes a truly insane person to stop being sane and live a life of insanity.

Smith groused that “the trouble with Ike” was that “instead of giving direct and clear orders, [he] dresses them up in polite language.” He was a conciliator, Smith added, who rarely issued unequivocal orders and never decreed: Do as I command and be silent. If consistent in his views supporting a broad, multipronged assault on Germany, he was “hardly decisive in the way he communicated them to Montgomery,” Stephen E. Ambrose later wrote. “He allowed Montgomery to carry every argument to its bitter end.

clenching his buttocks and rocking from side to side to ease the itching. “Penguin?” she asked. “No, just a bit of discomfort, Ma’am.” “I meant do you want a Penguin biscuit to go with your tea?” “Oh I see, I thought you meant, well never mind,” and he took the biscuit.

Only when he’s been on the whisky, officer. He’s okay with the gin.

I lit a fag and the whole place blew

Love Ring,” replied the sergeant hanging on each word.

No, I paid cash at the store,” Mentall replied with the distinct feeling this was not going to have a good outcome. “Aye well, you’ve accepted the goods. It’d be different if it was broken. We could replace it under warranty. But we aren’t responsible for superficial damage that you could’ve caused yourself.” “It was damaged when I opened the box,” Mentall protested. “Aye well, we can’t take your word for that.

And what of Bingo now?” asked Framson, lifting her voice, “Is he well?” “I wouldn’t know. He’s left home and moved in next door with a bunch of students.” “No further questions, your honour,” concluded Framson.

Handyman required for a new care home in Albridge. Gardening and general maintenance. Good rates of pay, hours to suit.