Taurus Man Quotes

PLANETARIUM Thinking of Caroline Herschel (1750–1848) astronomer, sister of William; and others. A woman in the shape of a monster a monster in the shape of a woman the skies are full of them a woman ‘in the snow among the Clocks and instruments or measuring the ground with poles’ in her 98 years to discover 8 comets she whom the moon ruled like us levitating into the night sky riding the polished lenses Galaxies of women, there doing penance for impetuousness ribs chilled in those spaces of the mind An eye, ‘virile, precise and absolutely certain’ from the mad webs of Uranusborg encountering the NOVA every impulse of light exploding from the core as life flies out of us Tycho whispering at last ‘Let me not seem to have lived in vain’ What we see, we see and seeing is changing the light that shrivels a mountain and leaves a man alive Heartbeat of the pulsar heart sweating through my body The radio impulse pouring in from Taurus I am bombarded yet I stand I have been standing all my life in the direct path of a battery of signals the most accurately transmitted most untranslatable language in the universe I am a galactic cloud so deep so invo- luted that a light wave could take 15 years to travel through me And has taken I am an instrument in the shape of a woman trying to translate pulsations into images for the relief of the body and the reconstruction of the mind.

Signs and wonders, eh? Pity if there is nothing wonderful in signs, and significant in wonders! There's a clue somewhere; wait a bit; hist--hark! By Jove, I have it! Look, you Doubloon, your zodiac here is the life of man in one round chapter; and now I'll read it off, straight out of the book. Come, Almanack! To begin: there's Aries, or the Ram--lecherous dog, he begets us; then, Taurus, or the Bull--he bumps us the first thing; then Gemini, or the Twins--that is, Virtue and Vice; we try to reach Virtue, when lo! comes Cancer the Crab, and drags us back; and here, going from Virtue, Leo, a roaring Lion, lies in the path--he gives a few fierce bites and surly dabs with his paw; we escape, and hail Virgo, the Virgin! that's our first love; we marry and think to be happy for aye, when pop comes Libra, or Scales--happiness weighed and found wanting; and while we are very sad about that, Lord! how we suddenly jump, as Scorpio, or the Scorpion, stings us in rear; we are curing the wound, when whang comes the arrows all round; Sagittarius, or the Archer, is amusing himself. As we pluck out the shafts, stand aside! here's the battering-ram, Capricornus, or the Goat; full tilt, he comes rushing and headlong we are tossed; when Aquarius, or the the Waterbearer, pours out his whole deluge and drowns us; and, to wind up, with Pisces, or the Fishes, we sleep. There's a sermon now, writ in high heaven, and the sun goes through it every year, and yet comes out of it all alive and hearty.

Yes, Gus, because a Ford Taurus screams class,” Casey said, sounding amused. “It does,” Gus insisted. “Did you know there are message boards on the Internet devoted to Ford Tauruses? I should know. I’m on one of them now. I have conversations with other Ford Taurus enthusiasts.” Which, in hindsight, was something he wished he’d never admitted out loud. Casey grinned. “Oh really. What’s your username on this message board?” Gus narrowed his eyes. “Something perfectly normal and not weird at all.” “Cool, man. What is it?” “TauruSaurus Rex,” Gus said. “And I really wish I’d thought of a different name now.” “Dude,” Casey said in awe. “How the hell do you come up with these things?

TIME TO SACRIFICE TAURUS This is the night of union when the stars scatter their rice over us. The sky is excited! Venus cannot stop singing the little songs she's making up, like birds in the first warm spring weather. The North Star can't quit looking over at Leo. Pisces is stirring milky dust from the ocean floor. Jupiter rides his horse near Saturn, "Old man, jump up behind me! The juice is coming back! Think of something happy to shout as we go. "Mars washes his bloody sword, puts it up, and begins building things. The Aquarian water jar fills, and the Virgin pours it generously. The Pleiades and Libra and Aries have no trembling in them anymore. Scorpio walks out looking for a lover, and so does Sagittarius! This is not crooked walking like the Crab. This is a holiday we've been waiting for. It is finally time to sacrifice Taurus and learn how the sky is a lens to look through. Listen to what's inside what I say. Shams will appear at dawn; then even night will change from its beloved animated darkness to a day within this ordinary sweet daylight.

priests. The Lords of Scorpio, being the great initiators, accepted none into the Mysteries save when the sun was in a certain degree of Taurus, symbolized by Apis, the Bull. When the Bull carried the sun between his horns, the neophytes were admitted. In geocentric astrology, this takes place when the sun is supposedly in the last decan of the Constellation of Scorpio. This is true not only in the ancient Egyptian rituals, but it is still true in the Mystery Schools. Candidates for the occult path of fire are to this day admitted only when the sun is geocentrically in Scorpio and heliocentrically in Taurus. The star group constituting the Constellation of the Scorpion closely resembles a spread eagle and is one of the reasons why that bird is sacred to Freemasonry, which is a fire cult.

Betelgeuse. Sirius. Orion. Antares. The sky is very large, and you are very small. Let the words wash through him, the voice and its memories pass over him, shivering his skin like the touch of a ghost, vanishing into darkness. The Pleiades. Cassiopeia. Taurus. Heaven is wide, and you are very small. Dead, but none the less powerful for being dead. He spread his hands wide, gripping the fence—those were powerful, too. Enough to beat a man to death, enough to choke out a life. But even death was not enough to loose the bands of rage. With great effort, he let go. Turned his hands palm upward, in gesture of surrender. He reached beyond the stars, searching. The words formed themselves quietly in his mind, by habit, so quietly he was not aware of them until he found them echoed in a whisper on his lips.

So we left the spear in the wagon and I dressed and still was not sick and together we walked to the head of the century. Tears had been ready to lead them. Macer was there, holding his horn. I saw them both shrug and get ready to swap Tears’ shield for the horn. ‘No, stay as you are,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t hurt to have someone else learning the signals. Tears can stay as Macer’s shield-man. Taurus, stay with Horgias.’ ‘And you?’ someone asked. ‘Don’t worry about me.’ I grinned, careless of the listening gods. ‘I’m indestructible. I’ll outlive you all.

At the foot of the ladder, he [Gene Cernan Apollo 17] delivered the short speech he had memorized for the occasion. "Is like to just say what I believe history will record: That America's challenge of today has forged man's destiny of tomorrow. And, as we leave the moon at Taurus-Littrow, we leave as we came, and God willing, as we shall return: with peace and hope for all mankind.

The last man on the moon, Gene Cernan, had paused for a final look at the black beauty of the world about him. He had a message to send home before departing. “As I take these last steps from the surface for some time in the future to come, I’d just like to record that America’s challenge of today has forged man’s destiny of tomorrow. And as we leave the moon and Taurus-Littrow, we leave as we came, and, God willing, we shall return, with peace and hope for all mankind.” It’s been nearly four decades since he spoke those words. No American, no earth being has yet returned to the moon. Sadly, no one will again for decades to come.

Has nobody not told you, Brian, that you've got this kind of gleeful preoccupation with the future? I wouldn't even mind, but you don't even have a fuckin' future, I don't have a future. Nobody has a future. The party's over. Take a look around you man, it's all breaking up. Are you not familiar with the book of Revelations of St. John, the final book of the Bible prophesying the apocalypse?... He forced everyone to receive a mark on his right hand or on his forehead so that no one shall be able to buy or sell unless he has the mark, which is the name of the beast, or the number of his name, and the number of the beast is 6-6-6... What can such a specific prophecy mean? What is the mark? Well the mark, Brian, is the barcode, the ubiquitous barcode that you'll find on every bog roll and packet of johnnies and every poxy pork pie, and every fuckin' barcode is divided into two parts by three markers, and those three markers are always represented by the number 6. 6-6-6! Now what does it say? No one shall be able to buy or sell without that mark. And now what they're planning to do in order to eradicate all credit card fraud and in order to precipitate a totally cashless society, what they're planning to do, what they've already tested on the American troops, they're going to subcutaneously laser tattoo that mark onto your right hand, or onto your forehead. They're going to replace plastic with flesh. Fact! In the same book of Revelations when the seven seals are broken open on the day of judgment and the seven angels blow the trumpets, when the third angel blows her bugle, wormwood will fall from the sky, wormwood will poison a third part of all the waters and a third part of all the land and many many many people will die! Now do you know what the Russian translation for wormwood is?... Chernobyl! Fact. On August the 18th, 1999, the planets of our solar system are gonna line up into the shape of a cross... They're gonna line up in the signs of Aquarius, Leo, Taurus, and Scorpio, which just happen to correspond to the four beasts of the apocalypse, as mentioned in the book of Daniel, another fuckin' fact! Do you want me to go on? The end of the world is nigh, Brian, the game is up!

Stars of Fire by Stewart Stafford At the Gate of Pleiades, Lies the playground of the Deities, At The Golden Gate of the Ecliptic, The Gods' plot and remain cryptic. Between the claws of Scorpio and Cancer, At the mercy of the great Zodiacal dancer. The dilemma on the horns of Aries, Brushes asides all adversaries. Venus trails stardust from her hair, As a supernova across the galaxy flares, A shooting star is the spear of Orion, More is the mane of Leo the lion. Man's Gemini may someday show before us, As chaste Virgo or the mighty Taurus, Or be inanimate as the scales of Libra, Or spread as Cancer or an unchecked fever. Perhaps these pilgrims have visited us before, When Sagittarius took the form of the wise Centaur, Or when Pisces flopped in an Aquarian boat, Or on a lazy hill to the Capricorn goat. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.

There was a car parked in the driveway. She hadn’t seen what appeared to be a rental car, a light blue Ford Taurus, drive up the hill, and apparently neither had Call. “Looks like you’ve got company,” he said. “Looks like. I wonder who it is.” Just then, the door swung and a man stood framed in the opening. Charity froze in her tracks as Jeremy Hauser stepped out on the porch. For a moment she just stood there, her stomach churning, trying to convince herself she was still asleep and this was a very bad dream. Please God, I promise to be a good girl if you’ll just…She didn’t finish the mantra. The fervent prayer hadn’t worked when she was a kid wanting a new pony and it wasn’t going to make Jeremy disappear.

»Als Kind fragte ich mich einmal, was passieren würde, wenn man einen 3,8-Liter-Milchkanister mit Benzin füllt und anzündet? Ich nahm das Benzin, das wir sonst für den Rasenmäher verwendeten, füllte den Kanister, ging raus auf die Straße und zündete ihn an … Wie erwartet gab es eine ziemliche Flamme. Da kam der grüne Ford Taurus meiner Mutter um die Ecke und fuhr die Straße hinunter, und ich dachte: ›Oh, nein …‹ Also versetzte ich dem Kanister einen Tritt, dass er umfiel, und das Benzin über die Straße in den Rinnstein floss. Es rann den Rinnstein hinunter, und da waren Autos [weiter unten an der Straße]. Ich stellte mir vor, wie die Autos in die Luft flogen. Also ging ich zum Rinnstein und stampfte auf das Benzin, damit es ausgeht, aber das spritzte natürlich, und jetzt brannte auch der Rasen. Es wurde immer schlimmer. Aber schließlich löschten wir das Feuer, und das Einzige, was meine Mutter sagte, war: ›Bryan, das solltest du wahrscheinlich nicht wieder tun‹, und ich sagte: ›Okay, geht in Ordnung.‹ Das war typisch für meine Mutter.«

The first creature was like a lion, and the second creature like a calf, and the third creature had a face like that of a man, and the fourth creature was like a flying eagle.”  These are clearly the four cardinal constellations of the ancient zodiac, specifically Leo the Lion, Taurus the Bull, Aquarius the Man, and the last is less clear to modern readers only because Scorpio is not only represented as a scorpion but also as an eagle and as a serpent.  The throne, described as being in the zodiac, must be within the band of the ecliptic.  If the sea of glass is the Milky Way, then it must sit where the two intersect, at the galactic center.  Revelation 5:1-7 describes a book of seven seals.  Imagine a book with a cylinder lock where 7 circles must be dialed to the right position to open and unlock.  Perhaps when the seven traditional “planets” are in the right alignment, the book opens… 

So every once in a while, a long while, the sun rises one morning in a new sign. It has slipped right out of one and back into the previous one. Right now it rises on the spring equinox in some early degree of the sign Pisces. But it’s always on the move—relative to us, that is, it’s really us who are on the move; and pretty soon—well, astronomically speaking pretty soon, a couple hundred years or so—the sun will begin to rise in the sign of Aquarius. Thus the end of the Piscean Age, which started two-thousand-odd years ago, and the beginning of the Age of Aquarius.” Two thousand years ago, the Piscean age, the world shifts from BC to AD. Jesus. And Jesus was a fish. Oh. “Oh,” said Pierce. “Always precedes, you see,” Earl said dreamily. “Precedes. Before Pisces was Aries the ram, and before that Taurus the bull, and so on.” Moses had ram’s horns, who overthrew the golden bull-calf. And then comes Jesus the fish, two thousand years on, new heaven and new earth, and shepherd Pan flees from the mountainsides. And now the world watched and waited for the man with the water jug.

I'll come,' Celeste cuts in. There's something very tantalizing about the chance to see for herself the man who dared to replace her in Gemma's life. The work aspect is another huge perk, which Gemma had mentioned in her account. 'It'll be good for the project if we went together, right? Why don't we kill two birds with one stone? Piss off your ex-fiancé and secure our chances of a cover story. I want this cover, Gem. It'll be my very first one.' Gemma groans. 'Your Gemini and Capricorn placements are showing.' Celeste is taken aback by the random segue. When her brain catches up, she asks, 'You remember my signs?' Gemma sighs dramatically. 'Gemini Sun, Capricorn Moon, and Scorpio Rising. But also, Gemini Venus and Virgo Mars. Basically, a hot workaholic who loves drama but hates emotions.' A surprised laugh escapes from Celeste's mouth. 'Gem,' she says. ‘And what are you...a Pisces?' Astrology is a common gay pastime, and many of Celeste's queer friends- especially the ones who live in LA- are deeply involved in it, sometimes even using things like astrocartography to determine where to travel or relocate. Meanwhile, she herself always has trouble remembering the different signs and who is what. 'Yup,' Gemma says with another loud sigh. 'Pisces Sun, Taurus Moon, and Cancer Rising. With a Leo Mars and Aquarius Venus at that. Basically, a stubborn ball of water that loves people a bit too much.' 'I don't know that much about astrology, but I know enough to know that I love your Big Three. I have friends with some of the exact same placements. So adorable.' 'Even if it makes me a stubborn ball of emotions?' 'A cute ball of emotions.' The moment she says it, Celeste bites her lip. Somehow, they've gotten dangerously close to flirting. Gemma clears her throat. 'Anyway, I have to go. I'll text you the information about the party. Thanks for agreeing to do this last minute. And for listening to me vent.' 'Great,' Celeste says. She does her best to switch gears so her tone is once again clipped and professional. 'And you're welcome. See you.' She hangs up, hoping she didn't make a huge mistake.