The Oracle Reads You Quotes

Do you know what kind of a world we live in? We live in a world where, if a man came up with a sure cure for cancer, and if that man were found to be married to his sister, his neighbors would righteously burn down his house and all his notes. If a man built the most beautiful tower in the country, and that man later begins to believe that Satan should be worshipped, they’ll blow up his tower. I know a great and moving book written by a woman who later went quite crazy and wrote crazy books, and nobody will read her great one any more. I can name three kinds of mental therapy that could have changed the face of the earth, and in each case the men who found it went on to insane Institutes and so-called religions and made fools of themselves—dangerous fools at that—and now no one will look at their really great early discoveries. Great politicians have been prevented from being great statesmen because they were divorced. And I wasn’t going to have the Mensch machine stolen or buried or laughed at and forgotten just because I had long hair and played the lute. You know, it’s easy to have long hair and play the lute and be kind to people when everyone else around you is doing it. It’s a much harder thing to be the one who does it first, because then you have to pay a price, you get jeered at and they throw stones and shut you out.

Speech to a Crowd Tell me, my patient friends, awaiters of messages. From what other shore, from what stranger, Whence, was the word to come? Who was to lesson you? Listeners under a child’s crib in a manger, Listeners once by the oracles, now by the transoms, Whom are you waiting for? Who do you think will explain? Listeners thousands of years and still no answer— Writers at night to Miss Lonely-Hearts, awkward spellers, Open your eyes! There is only earth and the man! There is only you. There is no one else on the telephone: No one else is on the air to whisper: No one else but you will push the bell. No one knows if you don’t: neither ships Nor landing-fields decode the dark between. You have your eyes and what your eyes see, is. The earth you see is really the earth you are seeing. The sun is truly excellent, truly warm, Women are beautiful as you have seen them— Their breasts (believe it) like cooing of doves in a portico. They bear at their breasts tenderness softly. Look at them! Look at yourselves. You are strong. You are well formed. Look at the world—the world you never took! It is really true you may live in the world heedlessly. Why do you wait to read it in a book then? Write it yourselves! Write to yourselves if you need to! Tell yourselves there is sun and the sun will rise. Tell yourselves the earth has food to feed you. Let the dead men say that men must die! Who better than you can know what death is? How can a bone or a broken body surmise it? Let the dead shriek with their whispering breath. Laugh at them! Say the murdered gods may wake But we who work have end of work together. Tell yourselves the earth is yours to take! Waiting for messages out of the dark you were poor. The world was always yours: you would not take it.

(Orual's challenge to the gods) Now, you who read, judge between the gods and me. They gave me nothing in the world to love but Psyche and then took her from me. But that was not enough. They then brought me to her at such a place and time that it hung on my word whether she should continue in bliss or be cast out into misery. They would not tell me whether she was the bride of a god, or mad, or a brute's or villain's spoil. They would give no clear sign, though I begged for it. I had to guess. And because I guessed wrong they punished me - what's worse punished me through her. And even that was not enough; they have now sent out a lying story in which I was given no riddle to guess, but knew and saw that she was the god's bride, and of my own free will destroyed her, and that for jealousy. As if I were another Redival. I say the gods deal very unrightly with us. For they will neither (which would be best of all) go away and leave us to live our own short days to ourselves, nor will they show themselves openly and tell us what they would have us do. For that too would be endurable. But to hint and hover, to draw us in dreams and oracles, or in a waking vision that vanishes as soon as seen, to be dead silent when we question them and then glide back and whisper (words we cannot understand) in our ears when we most wish to be free of them, and to show to one what they hide from another; what is all this but cat-and-mouse play, blindman's bluff, and mere jugglery? Why must holy places be dark places? I say, therefore, that there is no creature (toad, scorpion, or serpent) so noxious to man as the gods. Let them answer my charge if they can. It may well be that, instead of answering, they'll strike me mad or leprous or turn me into beast, bird, or tree. But will not all the world then know (and the gods will know it knows) that this is because they have no answer?

Our challenge as human beings on this planet is to live in the present moment as much as we possibly can. When we’re focused on some point in the future or are letting someone else tell us how things should go, we’re neither present in a particular moment nor responsible for ourselves. But when we seek the perspective of the Masters, Teachers, and Loved Ones, they help us empower ourselves to be who we need to be in any given moment. Providing truth, information, and support is the role of the Akashic Records. So if you really need a time-related answer, there are oracles such as clairvoyants, card readers, and astrologers who can help. And if you need a yes-or-no answer, a pendulum works especially well.

we do not need to remain in the Holy Place, the old covenant, in the soul; we must enter the Holy of Holies, the new covenant, in the spirit. This is the goal of this book. The writer seemed to be saying to his readers, “Hebrew brothers, you should no longer remain in the old covenant. You now have a new way to come out of the old covenant and enter into the new covenant.” The writer’s concept in the book of Hebrews is that the Holy of Holies and the new covenant are one; the Holy of Holies is the new covenant. When we come into the Holy of Holies, it means that we come into the new covenant, and when we come into the new covenant, we enter into the Holy of Holies. Very few Christians have seen this or have found this key. Regardless of the number of times they have read this chapter, they do not understand what it is talking about. But we have found the key, which is that the Holy of Holies is the new covenant and that the new covenant is the Holy of Holies. When we come into the Holy of Holies, we are in the new covenant. In the new covenant we have the imparting of the law of life. In the new covenant God is our God and we are His people according to the law of life. In the new covenant we have the inward ability to know God and the forgiveness of our sins. If we put all these together, we find that we are in God’s presence, at His oracle, and are meeting with God and having fellowship with Him. This is the new covenant with the law of life.

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The Head and Not the Tail If you listen to these commands of the Lord your God and carefully obey them, the Lord will make you the head and not the tail, and you will always have the upper hand. You must not turn away from any of the commands I am giving you today to follow after other gods and worship them. Deuteronomy 28:13-14 When reading Deuteronomy 28, it is pleasant to focus on the blessings in Moses’ message, yet we cannot avoid the fact that there were two sides to this oracle. Blessings would rain on the children of Israel as a result of their obedience, but harsh consequences awaited those who served other gods. It is hard to imagine a compassionate God raining down such curses on his children, for we know that God longed to bless his people. When the children of Israel turned from God, they would return to him only when they realized that they had placed themselves under the yoke of a far less benevolent master. Therein lies the curse—willingly abandoning a loving God to follow one whose intent is not to bless but to destroy. God still longs to bless us, but there is another who prowls about seeking to destroy those who are precious to God. Choose today to serve the God who longs to make you the head and not the tail.   MERCIFUL GOD, when I was created you forged a path for me to follow. But there is an enemy who desires that I lose my way. He seeks to destroy the destiny you have had for me from the beginning. I choose blessings because today and every day, I choose you! Thank you for the many blessings that have come from serving a compassionate, living, and mighty God. Thank you for making me the head and not the tail.

Unable to reach back to her book bag, she was reduced to reading the advertising cards above the heads of other passengers. One sign said ‘Kiss warts and bunions goodbye.’ Another ad was for Right to Life proponents. If you knew an unwed mother-to-be, there was a number where you could turn her in.

Your memoirs captivated my attention to thinking of our current duplicitous educational system; the methods that schools are teaching young adults, to the growing number of suicidal and shooting cases in learning institutions. If I may, I’ll like to request your permission to administer a human behavioral study on your adolescent life. This is a simple study which entails me asking you questions through our regular correspondence so I can better understand what’s going through your mind when you were inducted into the Enlightened Royal Oracle Society and subsequently your services in the various Arab Households. Although I am familiar with the ancient Greco Roman pederasty ideology, I am beginning to excogitate if there are valuable merits, to this form of mentorship between an erastês and an erômenos. In your memoirs you mentioned that your secondary school education derived from this ancient practice. Obviously your positive experiences had made you a balanced and well-rounded man of the world. Let me know your thoughts if you are interested in this research? I’ll continue reading your weekly blogs and wish you the very best in the soon to be published Initiation, the 1st of your five books memoir. My spirits are uplifted when reading your correspondence. Keep them coming, my friend. All the best! Dr. A.S.

Matthew has also juggled the most favorable readings from various avail able editions and translations of the Old Testament to arrive at a reading of each prophecy that will best match the "fulfillments"! [...] Matthew quotes the Greek Septuagint translation of Isa. 7:14 ("Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and you shall call his name Emannuel"), already a complex and redacted passage in Isaiah. In Isaiah's context the oracle evidently means to assure the chicken-hearted King Ahaz that God would intervene on behalf of Judah in a matter of a very few years, no more than required for a child, soon to be conceived, to grow to the age where he can decline baby food he doesn't like. Assyria will by then have wiped the allies Samaria and Syria off the map. Obviously Isaiah cannot have intended this prophecy to predict events in the life of Jesus more than seven centuries later. Matthew cannot have thought that he did. Like the authors of the Dead Sea Scrolls, he must have imagined the verse contained a hidden message, only newly discernible in light of the advent of Jesus the Messiah. [...] And in this context, it is important to know that the word translated "virgin" in the King James and New International Versions is the Hebrew almah and means the same as the ambiguous word "maiden," not necessarily innocent of sexual intercourse, [...] Matthew, though, chooses to quote not the Hebrew but rather the Septuagint Greek version where the word parthenos is used. This Greek word is usually thought to have the narrower meaning "sexually virginal." Since Matthew seems to want to tell us that Jesus was conceived virginally, miraculously, he prefers using a version of the Bible that seems to contain an appropriate prediction.

If you desire to read the scripture in such a manner as may most effectually answer this end, would it not be advisable, 1. To set apart a little time, if you can, every morning and evening for that purpose 2. At each time if you have leisure, to read a chapter out of the Old, and one out of the New Testament: if you cannot do this, to take a single chapter, or a part of one. 3. To read this with a single eye, to know the whole will of God, and a fixt resolution to do it. In order to know his will, you should, 4. Have a constant eye to the analogy of faith; the connexion and harmony there is between those grand, fundamental doctrines, Original Sin, Justification by Faith, the New Birth, Inward and Outward Holiness. 5. Serious and earnest prayer should be constantly used, before we consult the oracles

I came across the writings of the Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa. As a man, he was problematic. He drank too much, slept around, and didn’t live as we’d expect a great, wise teacher to live. But every teacher is human. Likewise, parents are not wise oracles—they’re just people trying to shepherd other people through the world. We may know the right path to take, but knowing the way and consistently walking it are two different things. Everything we learn, we learn from someone who is imperfect. Trungpa writes about torma and don. “Possession” is the closest translation for the Tibetan word don—a ghost that causes misfortune, anger, fear, sickness. When you have a don, you are the possession. The anger possesses—owns—you. Torma means “offering cake.” You offer the torma to your don. You feed the ghost that does you harm, “that which possesses you.” Giving it a little something sweet is a way of saying, Thank you for the pain you caused me, because that pain woke me up. It hurt enough to make me change. “Wish for more pain,” a friend’s therapist once told her, “because that’s how you’ll change.” It has to hurt so much that you have to do something differently. The pain forces your hand. When I read Trungpa, I thought about my own ghosts differently. Fear isn’t inside me, I’m inside it. Anger isn’t something I’m holding; it’s something that’s held me, possessed me. And being possessed is the opposite of being free.

At least the asshole still didn’t know that he’d lied about what the Oracle had told him all those decades ago. With every step out of his father’s villa, Ruhn could once more hear the Oracle’s unearthly whispering, reading the smoke while he’d trembled in her dim marble chamber: The royal bloodline shall end with you, Prince.

Do you have a name?” Cyra asked, blunt as ever. “Or should we just call you ‘Oracle’?” “Ah, forgive my rudeness. My name is Vara,” she said. “I sometimes forget that the people I know do not know me, in turn. Is there anything I can do to make you less hostile, my dear?” She nodded to Cyra. “Or are you content to remain this way?” A faint crease appeared in Cyra’s cheek, the way it did when she was suppressing a smile. “Fine, I’ll sit,” she conceded. “But don’t read too much into it.” “I wouldn’t dare,” Vara said as Cyra perched on the edge of the bench next to Akos.

Because what would you rather read about: a swashbuckling starship captain? Or a being as incomprehensible to us as we are to an amoeba? To be fair, science fiction novels have been written about a future in which this transformation has occurred. And I could write one of these, as well. The problem is that for the most part, people like reading about other people. People who are like them. People who act and think like, you know . . . people. Even if we imagine a future society of omniscient beings, we wouldn’t have much of a story without conflict. Without passions and frailties and fear of death. And what kind of a story could an amoeba write about a man, anyway? I believe that after a few hundred years of riding up this hockey-stick of explosive technological growth, humanity can forge a utopian society whose citizens are nearly-omniscient and nearly-immortal. Governed by pure reason rather than petty human emotions. A society in which unrecognizable beings live in harmony, not driven by current human limitations and motivations. Wow. A novel about beings we can’t possibly relate to, residing on an intellectual plane of existence incomprehensible to us, without conflict or malice. I think I may have just described the most boring novel ever written. Despite what I believe to be true about the future, however, I have to admit something: I still can’t help myself. I love space opera. When the next Star Trek movie comes out, I’ll be the first one in line. Even though I’ll still believe that if our technology advances enough for starships, it will have advanced enough for us to have utterly transformed ourselves, as well. With apologies to Captain Kirk and his crew, Star Trek technology would never coexist with a humanity we can hope to understand, much as dinosaurs and people really didn’t roam the earth at the same time. But all of this being said, as a reader and viewer, I find it easy to suspend disbelief. Because I really, really love this stuff. As a writer, though, it is more difficult for me to turn a blind eye to what I believe will be the truth. But, hey, I’m only human. A current human. With all kinds of flaws. So maybe I can rationalize ignoring my beliefs long enough to write a rip-roaring science fiction adventure. I mean, it is fiction, right? And maybe dinosaurs and mankind did coexist. The Flintstones wouldn’t lie, would they?  So while the mind-blowing pace of scientific progress has ruined far-future science fiction for me, at least when it comes to the writing of it, I may not be able to help myself. I may love old-school science fiction too much to limit myself to near-future thrillers. One day, I may break down, fall off the wagon, and do what I vowed during my last Futurists Anonymous meeting never to do again: write far-future science fiction.  And if that day ever comes, all I ask is that you not judge me too harshly.

younger brother, Proteus, would take over the kingdom, and the two of them hated each other. In desperation, Acrisius took a trip to the Oracle of Delphi to get his fortune read. Now, going to the Oracle is usually what we call a bad idea. You had to take a long trip to the city of Delphi and visit this dark cave at the edge of town, where a veiled lady sat on a three-legged stool, inhaling volcanic vapour all day and seeing visions. You would leave an expensive offering with the priests at the door. Then you could ask the Oracle one question. Most likely, she’d answer you with some rambling riddle. Then you’d leave confused, terrified and poorer. But, like I said, Acrisius was desperate. He asked, ‘O Oracle, what’s the deal with me not having any sons? Who’s supposed to take the throne and carry on the family name?’ This time, the Oracle did not speak in riddles. ‘That’s easy,’ she said in a raspy voice. ‘You will never have sons. One day your daughter Danaë will have a son. That boy will kill you and become the next king of Argos. Thank you for your offering. Have a nice day.’ Stunned and angry, Acrisius returned home. When he got to the palace, his daughter came to see him. ‘Father, what’s wrong? What did the Oracle say?’ He stared at Danaë – his beautiful girl with her long dark hair and lovely brown eyes. Many men had asked to marry her. Now all Acrisius could think about was the prophecy. He could never allow Danaë to marry. She could never have a son. She wasn’t his daughter any more. She was his death sentence.

Nothing like watching you relatives fight!

Davies.” Lucia took hold of a book and half-pulled it off the shelf, rocking it back and forth on its base. “How straightforward do you think prophecy is? People don’t just receive a book and read out exactly the answer they came for. They have to work at understanding it.

Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use The Dream Oracle to interpret each other’s most recent dreams. Carry on.’ The one good thing to be said for this lesson was that it was not a double period. By the time they had all finished reading the introduction of the book, they had barely ten minutes left for dream interpretation. At the table next to Harry and Ron, Dean had paired up with Neville, who immediately embarked on a long-winded explanation of a nightmare involving a pair of giant scissors wearing his grandmother’s best hat; Harry and Ron merely looked at each other glumly. ‘I never remember my dreams,’ said Ron, ‘you say one.’ ‘You must remember one of them,’ said Harry impatiently.