Tim Robinson Quotes

You'd think that it would make them all the more credible to be free of any obvious agenda or emotional bias, motivated only by objective logic. But there's something off-putting about these hyperrational types; they're immune to any appeals to common sense or humor, the for fuck's sake defense. [...] As Kim Stanley Robinson writes, "An excess of reason is in itself a form of madness".

as a plea that the Church of England might be a true church of Christ, notwithstanding all her corruptions, Robinson says, “It is true that the apostles mentioned them, but always with utter dislike, severe reproof, and strict charges to reform them. Rom. 16:17; 1 Cor. 5; 1 Thess. 5:14; 2 Thess. 3:6; 1 Tim. 6:5; Rev. 2:14-16, 20. But how doth this concern you? Though Paul and all the apostles with him; yea, though Christ Himself from heaven should admonish any of your churches to put away any person, though never so heretical or flagitious, you could not do it.” [Robinson,

But what is love? Is it measurable or quantifiable in any way? And must it be justifiable? Or even rational? And must love come from the heart? Or must it come only from the heart, as many have put forth over the course of time, that love is strictly a denizen of the heart? And how do we know if it is our heart or our head that speaks to us? Or is it simply something you talk yourself into? And why would a girl do such a thing? Because she feels like she ought to,

The Serrana Bank, a formation of shoals and low cays 250 miles out in the western Caribbean off the northeast coast of Nicaragua, is named after its own castaway. Pedro Serrano was shipwrecked there in the first half of the sixteenth century — the date is uncertain — and his survival story is so extreme as to beggar belief. He maintained that he lived for seven years on an island that had no fresh water.

One of the best accounts of the principles and practices involved is Tim Brown’s Change by Design: How Design Thinking Transforms Organizations and Inspires Innovation.

(Regarding author Kim Stanley Robinson) In an era filled with complacent dystopias and escapist apocalypses, Robinson is one of our best, bravest, most moral, and most hopeful storytellers. It’s no coincidence that so many of his novels have as their set pieces long, punishing treks through unforgiving country with diminishing provisions, his characters exhausted and despondent but forcing themselves to slog on. What he’s telling us over and over, like the voice of the Third Wind whispering when all seems lost, is that it’s not too late, don’t get scared, don’t give up, we’re almost there, we can do this, we just have to keep going.

As they passed into the woods, he took one last look behind, then checked the two pistols in his belt, and hurried down the path to freedom and ultimate redemption.

Jizz. Like cumshot? You can say that because you said we can say whatever the hell we want.

Each turn leads to another; without the one, the second is impossible. 

You’d think that it would make them all the more credible to be free of any obvious agenda or emotional bias, motivated only by objective logic. But there’s something off-putting about these hyperrational types; they’re immune to any appeals to common sense or humor, the “for fuck’s sake” defense. (Think of hard-core libertarians carefully explaining to you why the fire department should be privatized or heroin should be legal or everyone should be allowed to have automatic weapons.) As Kim Stanley Robinson writes, “An excess of reason is in itself a form of madness.

These endless ankle-twisting contradictions underfoot, amorphous, resistant, cutting, dull, become the uncountable futilities heaped upon one’s own shores by the surrounding ocean of indifference. If then one could elevate gloom into metaphysical despair, see the human race as no taller than that most depressing of life-forms, the lichen that stains so many of these bare stones black, one might, paradoxically, march on with a weightier stride that would soon outwalk the linear desert. Instead, the interminable dump of broken bits and pieces one is toiling along stubbornly remains the merely personal accumulation of petty worries, selfish anxieties, broken promises, discarded aspirations and other chips off a life-worn ego, that constitutes the path to one’s own particular version of nowhere.

Thinking now of the luminous cleanliness and bell-like resonance of Aran’s limestone rock sheets, their parallel fissures pointing one to the edge of clear-cut cliffs, and the solace on a summer’s day of its spring wells that image the perfection of the wildflowers attendant on them, I realize what a difficult terrain is south Connemara: multidirectional from every point, so complex in form it verges on the formless, disputing every step with stony irregularities, leachlike softness of bog or bootlace-catching twiggy heath. Often when visitors ask me what they should see in this region I am at a loss. A curious hole in the ground? The memory of an old song about a drowning? Ultimately I have to tell them that this is a land without shortcuts.

Five goalkeepers have scored in the Premier League. They are Peter Schmeichel, Brad Friedel, Paul Robinson, Tim Howard and Asmir Begovic.

Theories of flow must consider sinks as well as sources. There are locations - by definition they are not places, though we know too well where they are - that swallow up difference, leaving a desert of toxic sameness, an atmosphere of depleted possibilities of meaning, a dull residue of differences that make no difference. Our civilization produces them; it even needs them. We need them in Connemara - I am no purist in this - but must not allow them to drain away its essences. That should be the principle at the core of arguments around particular cases. And if the web of associations I have spun around these quaint landmarks in Garomna should lap out beyond the vague confines of Connemara to envelop more and more of the world, it might bring with it the suggestion of a way of looking at places as sources of difference; and surely taking note of the particularities of a place is the first step in taking care of it.