To Be Hero X Quotes

Heroes are important. Heroes tell us who we want to be but when they made this particular hero they didn’t give him a gun, they gave him a screwdriver to fix things. They didn’t give him a tank or a warship or an X-Wing, they gave him a call box from which you can call for help and they didn’t give him a superpower or a heat-ray, they gave him an extra heart. And that’s extraordinary. There will never come a time when we don’t need a hero like the doctor.

It's hard to talk about the importance of an imaginary hero. But heroes ARE important: Heroes tell us something about ourselves. History tells us who we used to be, documentaries tell us who we are now; but heroes tell us who we WANT to be. And a lot of our heroes depress me. But when they made this particular hero, they didn't give him a gun--they gave him a screwdriver to fix things. They didn't give him a tank or a warship or an x-wing fighter--they gave him a box from which you can call for help. And they didn't give him a superpower or pointy ears or a heat-ray--they gave him an extra HEART. They gave him two hearts! And that's an extraordinary thing. There will never come a time when we don't need a hero like the Doctor.

Persecuting religious minorities is always ill-advised, every single time it occurs in history. I have never in my research found an instance where a historian says, “Wow, we were on the right side of history for torturing Group X back then.

If Medusa was Dominican and had a daughter, she might wonder at this curse. At how her blood is always becoming some fake hero's mission. Something to be slayed, conquered.

We are meant to be heroes. We are meant to fight witches and monsters and evil spirits, even if it appears that we will not survive the encounter. In short, we are meant to hope and to believe in the impossible. The meaning comes from the fight itself, from fighting against such great odds and such great powers, regardless of whether there is a great victory at the end, or not. Our victory is in the trying.

It looks like a seagull’s face,” Percy said. “And we’re the eye.” Hazel glared at him. “It’s a map, Percy.” (...) She drew a dotted line between the two X’s. “You just cut off the seagull’s head,” Percy noted. Hazel sighed.

It's ironic when black non-Muslims say Islam is not a religion that uplifts black people when two of the most celebrated black heroes in recent history were both Muslim; Malcolm X and Muhammad Ali.

He is a symbol. He is a legend. He is immortal. He is incorruptible. He is Batman. I am not him. When I die, he will live. Batman has no secret identity. He has no other. He is no one. He has only hosts--mere mortal men who don this suit, this symbol, to continue his crusade. He isn't a hero. He is a cure, a cure to the virus of the human condition. He is exactly like his enemies, and yet strikingly different. He is just as swift, strong, and smart as them, just as brutal, but in the other direction. He will never kill, and he will never die. He has no name. He is Batman.

It is hard to talk about the importance of an imaginary hero. But heroes are important. Heroes tell us something about ourselves. History books tell us who we used to be, documentaries tell us who we are now... but heroes, tell us who we want to be. A lot of our heroes depress me. But when they made this particular hero, they didn't give him a gun, they gave him a screwdriver to fix things. They didn't give him a tank or a warship or a X-Wing Fighter, they gave him a phone box from which you can call for help. And they didn't give him a superpower, or pointy ears, or Heat Ray, they gave him an extra heart. They gave him two hearts and that is an extraordinary thing. There will never come a time when we don't need a hero like the Doctor. - The Day of the Doctor Q&A

There was some kind of X-men emergency, so all the teachers were gone. This happens every now and then. It's one of the perks of having super heroes for your teachers - when the world is about to end (which is like at least twice a month), school gets canceled. Heck, three weeks ago there was a big chemistry final for the upperclassmen. Beast was the teacher - he's this big, burly guy who can do acrobatic stuff like a monkey, but he also happens to be a super-genius. He's, like, legendary for his tough finals, so there were kids walking through the halls, going, "Oh, God, please let Galactus try to eat the earth. Please please please let there be an alien invasion by the Skrulls!

What are you doing?” Percy asked. “Sending a message,” Annabeth said. “I just hope Rachel gets it.” “Rachel?” Percy asked. “You mean our Rachel? Oracle of Delphi Rachel?” “That’s the one.” Annabeth suppressed a smile. Whenever she brought up Rachel’s name, Percy got nervous. At one point, Rachel had been interested in dating Percy. That was ancient history. Rachel and Annabeth were good friends now. But Annabeth didn’t mind making Percy a little uneasy. You had to keep your boyfriend on his toes.

I asked her who he was and she said, “He was a man ahead of his time.” She actually liked Malcolm X. She put him in nearly the same category as her other civil rights heroes, Paul Robeson, Jackie Robinson, Eleanor Roosevelt, A. Philip Randolph, Martin Luther King, Jr., and the Kennedys—any Kennedy. When Malcolm X talked about “the white devil” Mommy simply felt those references didn’t apply to her.

I'm not a good person, Meilin," he said. "But the difference between me and your little Anlai hero-I've never pretended otherwise.

I noticed a copy of X-Men, a Marvel comic he loved, in his backpack, which was lying open on his crossed legs. Sometimes it seemed a part of those characters lived inside him. Peter wasn’t your classic knight in shining armor; he was a complex hero full of doubts and conflicting emotions who suffered from unrequited love.

A villain is nothing more than the hero of the other side.

I just came from Bunker Hill,’ I told Sam. ‘Hel offered me a reunion with my mother.’ I managed to tell her the story. Samirah reached out as if to touch my arm, then apparently changed her mind. ‘I’m so sorry, Magnus. But Hel lies. You can’t trust her. She’s just like my father, only colder. You made the right choice.’ ‘Yeah … still. You ever do the right thing, and you know it’s the right thing, but it leaves you feeling horrible?’ ‘You’ve just described most days of my life.’ Sam pulled up her hood. ‘When I became a Valkyrie … I’m still not sure why I fought that frost giant. The kids at Malcolm X were terrible to me. The usual garbage: they asked me if I was a terrorist. They yanked off my hijab. They slipped disgusting notes and pictures into my locker. When that giant attacked … I could’ve pretended to be just another mortal and got myself to safety. But I didn’t even think about running away. Why did I risk my life for those kids?’ I smiled. ‘What?’ she demanded. ‘Somebody once told me that a hero’s bravery has to be unplanned – a genuine response to a crisis. It has to come from the heart, without any thought of reward.’ Sam huffed. ‘That somebody sounds pretty smug.’ ‘Maybe you didn’t need to come here,’ I decided. ‘Maybe I did. To understand why we’re a good team.

My lady, When in difficulty, remember the words of our mutual friend Stephen Armstrong: "You can always swim out of quicksand as long as you don't panic." Or send for me, and I'll come throw you a rope. -W. R. Every time Phoebe had read those words- at least a dozen times since they'd left Eversby Priory- a giddy sensation rushed through her. It had hardly escaped her notice that West had marked sections of the book with x's, just as she had marked Henry's book so long ago. A sly bit of flirtation, those x's- she was welcome to interpret them as kisses, while he could still maintain deniability. Infuriating, complicated man.

You see, as kids, my friends and I assumed we'd grow up to become like our heroes--that someday, like them, we'd do great things, make a difference in teh nonsensical world that belonged to adults. Now, watching Space PAtrol crew resist Agent X, the kid who dreamed of living heroically snaps out of a long, deep sleep. It's like awakening in the middle of the night--or in midlife-- remembering something you forgot to do. Something very important.

Boys with power were admire —legendary heroes worthy of songs and poetry to remember their honor. Girls with power were painted as malicious, evil, because we wanted more to life than birthding children and following duties. Chasing dreams was forbidden and *love* was a word we'd never truly understand.

Still, my heroes were loner rebel characters like Han Solo, a leader of the Rebel Alliance in the Star Wars trilogy, and Wolverine of the X-Men. Wolverine is hotheaded, doesn't always listen to Cyclops or Professor X, and always seems pissed off and ready to fight because he was either misunderstood or treated wrongly. I looked up to those rebels, who were much more fascinating than the do-gooder, wholesome characters like Superman.

You don't know the power of the dark side Space the final frontier I'm iron man It can't rain all the time Cowabunga Babe with the power What if I'm not the hero. What if I'm the bad guy? It is extraordinary thing to meet someone who you can bear your soul to and accept you for what you are. That's the thing about the truth. It'll set you free, but first it'll really piss you off! I make out with a girl, I start turnin intro one. You gotta admit that's a little weird. C'mon, luke you get turned on by two scoops of I've cream. It doesn't take X-Ray vision to see you are up to no good. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

You don't know the power of the dark side Space the final frontier I'm iron man It can't rain all the time Cowabunga Babe with the power What if I'm not the hero. What if I'm the bad guy? It is extraordinary thing to meet someone who you can bear your soul to and accept you for what you are. That's the thing about the truth. It'll set you free, but first it'll really piss you off! I make out with a girl, I start virgin's intro one. You gotta admit that's a little weird. C'mon, luke you get turned on by two scoops of I've cream. It doesn't take X-Ray vision to see you are up to no good. It does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

My father was usually too far in the drink to remember he had children. My mother was half mad and had fewer morals than the barn cat we brought back today. Since none of our relations wanted custody of a pair of impoverished brats, Devon and I were sent to boarding school. We stayed there most holidays. I became a bully. I hated everyone. Henry was especially irritating- skinny, odd, fussy about his food. Always reading. I stole that book from the box under his bed because it seemed to be his favorite." Pausing uncomfortably, Mr. Ravenel raked a hand through his disordered hair, and it promptly fell back into the same gleaming, untidy layers. "I didn't plan to keep it. I was going to embarrass him by reading parts of it aloud in front of him. And when I saw what you'd written on the inside cover, I could hardly wait to torture him about it. But then I read the first page." "In which Stephen Armstrong is sinking in a pit of quicksand," Phoebe said with a tremulous smile. "Exactly. I had to find out what happened next." "After escaping the quicksand, he has to save his true love, Catriona, from the crocodiles." A husky sound of amusement. "You marked x's all over those pages." "I secretly longed for a hero to rescue me from crocodiles someday." "I secretly longed to be a hero. Despite having far more in common with the crocodiles.

He stared without blinking at Sculley, who would remember “Steve’s look of contempt” years later. “It’s unyielding,” Sculley recalled, “like an X-ray boring inside your bones, down to where you’re soft and destructibly mortal.” For a moment, standing onstage while pretending not to notice Jobs, Sculley thought back to a friendly trip they had taken a year earlier to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to visit Jobs’s hero, Edwin Land. He had been dethroned from the company he created, Polaroid, and Jobs had said to Sculley in disgust, “All he did was blow a lousy few million and they took his company away from him.” Now, Sculley reflected, he was taking Jobs’s company away from him.

Caleb was a hero, there is no doubt of it. He ventured forth from one world to another with an explorer’s courage, armored by the hope that he could serve his people. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the most learned of his day, ready to take his place with them as a man of affairs. He won the respect of those who had been swiftest to dismiss him. All that is true and certain. But what I do not know is this: which home welcomed him, at the end. Whichever it was—the celestial English heaven of seraphim, cherubim and ophanim, or Kietan’s warm and fertile place away in the southwest, I believe that his song was powerful enough for Joel to hear and to follow him there. X They pulled the Indian College down.

If I could have chosen a flag back then, it would have been embroidered with a portrait of Malcolm X, dressed in a business suit, his tie dangling, one hand parting a window shade, the other holding a rifle. The portrait communicated everything I wanted to be—controlled, intelligent, and beyond the fear. I would buy tapes of Malcolm’s speeches—“Message to the Grassroots,” “The Ballot or the Bullet”—down at Everyone’s Place, a black bookstore on North Avenue, and play them on my Walkman. Here was all the angst I felt before the heroes of February, distilled and quotable. “Don’t give up your life, preserve your life,” he would say. “And if you got to give it up, make it even-steven.” This was not boasting—it was a declaration of equality rooted not in better angels or the intangible spirit but in the sanctity of the black body.

While the Gregorian chant in its afterlife has flourished as the authentic music of the Roman Church, its original character still remains in doubt. Not until the twentieth century did the Gregorian chant come back into its own. The old melodies had been mutilated into a monotonous plainchant to facilitate organ accompaniment. In 1889 the scholarly Benedictine monks of Solesmes in France undertook to rediscover the medieval practice. Their product was numerous volumes of “Gregorian chants” in a free-flowing nonrhythmic style. By 1903 they had recaptured the Gregorian chant to the satisfaction of Pope Pius X, himself a scholar of musical history, who established their versions of the Gregorian melodies by his encyclical motu proprio. But the rhythms still remain a puzzle. Pius X’s purified Gregorian chant banned the “theatrical style” of recitation, forbade the use of instruments, replaced women by boys in the church choir, and restricted the use of the organ. A Vatican Edition provided an authorized corpus of plainchant, which would prevail in the modern Catholic world.

PART II THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS TO HIS OWN COUNTRY CHAPTER V. Odysseus on the Island of Calypso VI. Odysseus Constructs a Raft and Leaves the Island VII. Odysseus is Saved on the Island of Scheria VIII. Nausicaä is Sent to the River by Athena IX. Odysseus Arrives at the Palace of Alkinoös X. Odysseus in the Halls of Alkinoös XI. The Banquet in Honor of Odysseus XII. Odysseus Relates His Adventures XIII. The Lotus-Eaters and the Cyclops XIV. The Cave of the Cyclops XV. The Blinding of the Cyclops XVI. Odysseus and His Companions Leave the Land of the Cyclops XVII. The Adventures of Odysseus on the Island of Æolus XVIII. Odysseus at the Home of Circè XIX. Circè Instructs Odysseus Concerning His Descent to Hades XX. The Adventures of Odysseus in Hades XXI. Odysseus Converses with His Mother and Agamemnon XXII. Conversation with Achilles and Other Heroes XXIII. The Return of Odysseus to the Island of Circè XXIV. Odysseus Meets the Sirens, Skylla, and Charybdis XXV. Odysseus on the Island of Hēlios XXVI. The Departure of Odysseus from the Island of Scheria XXVII. Odysseus Arrives at Ithaca XXVIII. Odysseus Seeks the Swineherd

My gratitude goes as well to the other data scientists I pestered and to the institutions that collect and maintain their data: Karlyn Bowman, Daniel Cox (PRRI), Tamar Epner (Social Progress Index), Christopher Fariss, Chelsea Follett (HumanProgress), Andrew Gelman, Yair Ghitza, April Ingram (Science Heroes), Jill Janocha (Bureau of Labor Statistics), Gayle Kelch (US Fire Administration/FEMA), Alaina Kolosh (National Safety Council), Kalev Leetaru (Global Database of Events, Language, and Tone), Monty Marshall (Polity Project), Bruce Meyer, Branko Milanović (World Bank), Robert Muggah (Homicide Monitor), Pippa Norris (World Values Survey), Thomas Olshanski (US Fire Administration/FEMA), Amy Pearce (Science Heroes), Mark Perry, Therese Pettersson (Uppsala Conflict Data Program), Leandro Prados de la Escosura, Stephen Radelet, Auke Rijpma (OECD Clio Infra), Hannah Ritchie (Our World in Data), Seth Stephens-Davidowitz (Google Trends), James X. Sullivan, Sam Taub (Uppsala Conflict Data Program), Kyla Thomas, Jennifer Truman (Bureau of Justice Statistics), Jean Twenge, Bas van Leeuwen (OECD Clio Infra), Carlos Vilalta, Christian Welzel (World Values Survey), Justin Wolfers, and Billy Woodward (Science Heroes). David Deutsch, Rebecca Newberger Goldstein, Kevin Kelly, John Mueller, Roslyn Pinker, Max Roser, and Bruce Schneier read a draft of the entire manuscript and offered invaluable advice.

His sense of community with other blacks is affirmed as he addresses them as “brothers” and “sisters,” a community built not on rational self-interest (as in the American political community) but on affective bonds. His new heroes are Malcolm X, W.E.B. Du Bois, Marcus Garvey, Angela Davis—and Frantz Fanon. He also prepares for political mobilization in accordance with his new self-image. Although he recognizes that violent revolution on the total scale preached by Fanon is not feasible in America, he will forthrightly adopt a rhetoric that involves “confrontation, bluntness, and directness” in dealing with his former white oppressors and asserting his new and vital self-image. Verbal violence as a form of cultural vitality overlaps with physical violence as part of the same black anti-Western Kultur . Turning the pages of Eldrige Cleaver’s Soul on Ice, George Jackson’s Soledad Brother, or the poetry of LeRoi Jones, one meets with a delight in violence both as a cleansing, purifying process (as in Frantz Fanon’s “holy violence”) and as an affirmation of vital cultural identity. The black inner-city criminal thug took on the glamorous image of Frantz Fanon’s fellah or revolutionary guerrilla cadre, as urban street gangs reorganized themselves as the Black Panthers. In a notorious passage, Norman Mailer had even praised the vitalism and “courage” of these hoodlums when they murder neighborhood store owners. “For one murders not only a weak fifty-year-old man,” he wrote, “but an institution as well,” namely, private property. Mailer concluded that “the hoodlum is therefore daring the unknown, and no matter how brutal the act, it is not altogether cowardly.

Never give up your metaphoric bad habits, the way your obsessions make themselves visible in your words. Tell yourself that one day a scholar will write a paper on them, an x-ray of your psyche, with all of your quirks visible like breaks in bones, both healed and fresh.

Kim Dokja x Hansooyoung PART 1 [I shall kill you, Yoo Joonghyuk.] ~ Kim Dokja pg 4110 46. ⸢(Looks like you still don't know how it works. The heroine loses her consciousness, her hand falling away. And the male hero awakens! You see, in all the movies I've seen so far…) pg 4112 47. These idiots, I even died so that you two could talk to each other, but this…' She figured that she really needed to give these two men a harsh earful when she arrived there. But, when she pushed past the bushes and stepped forward, the ensuing spectacle freaked her out in a rather grand manner. Kwa-aaang!! Bang!!! Yoo Joonghyuk was mercilessly slamming his sword down on Kim Dokja, currently sprawled out on the ground. "Hey!! You crazy son of a bitch!!" pg 4125 48. There were plenty of things she wanted to ask, but she chose not to. Instead, she poked Kim Dokja's cheek and spoke up. "Still, this guy looks like he got completely fooled, doesn't he." "Looks that way." "How did it go?" "He went crazy and attacked me." Han Sooyoung smirked and lightly pinched Kim Dokja's cheek as if she was proud of him. pg 4127 49. the events of her dying at Yoo Joonghyuk's sword, me fighting against him, and then, passing out from his attack, and finally, sharing a conversation with Yoo Sangah inside the Library… Han Sooyoung approached the bed before I noticed it and pinched my cheek. "In any case, Kim Dokja. You can be really adorable sometimes." pg 4144 50. The moment Han Sooyoung's fist bumped into mine, she was completely enveloped in bright light. As I watched her figure disappear, I became aware once more that she had become my companion for real. pg 4165 51. ⸢And…⸥ My heart began powerfully pounding away. ⸢The woman that I used to love.⸥ pg 4189 52. Her emotionless eyes; the beauty spot just below one of them; and her lips that always mocked me for fun, now arching up in a smooth line. "Proceed with the execution pg 4191 53. "But, should you be doing something like that? She's originally your bride, isn't she?" "Correction. She was supposed to be one. The throne was usurped on the first day of the wedding, however." Oh, I see. So, it's that sort of development? I felt just a bit relieved now. Han Sooyoung and Yoo Joonghyuk as a couple? hadn't allowed any dating at the workplace yet, so hell no. pg 4202 54. ⸢By the time you're reading this book, I…⸥ I steeled my heart and read the next line of the text. ⸢…I'd still be living a pretty good life, I guess. Hahah, were you scared?⸥ This idiot… pg 4212 55. The following words were eerily similar to a certain body of text that I was familiar with. ⸢The you reading this story will definitely make it out of here alive.⸥ Han Sooyoung's afterwords came to an end there. For the longest time, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the full-stop at the end of the sentencepg4216 56. "Looks like the company's internal rules need to be changed somewhat…" pg 4234 57. She spoke in a fed-up tone of voice. And then, issued an order to me. "Marry me, Ricardo Von Kaizenix." pg 4244 58. "I didn't want to extend her 50 years by even one minute if I could help it." I was being serious here. The moment I arrived in this world and realized that Han Sooyoung had to spend 50 years here, I just couldn't escape from this one overwhelming emotion. Someone was sacrificed again because of me. Han Sooyoung who had to endure the time frame of 50 years – could she still maintain a normal, functioning mind? Was she able to maintain the ego of the Han Sooyoung that I know of?pg4254 59. Her palm smacked me in the back of the head again. God damn it, this punk… "The third method, 'Romance'." "And its contents are?" "Marry Yuri di Aristel." "And just what did you choose?" "The third method?" "And are we currently married?" "Nope." "And why the hell not?!" pg 4256

You’ve heard that saying, ‘no man is a hero to his valet,’” Malcolm wrote in the Autobiography. “Well, those Negroes who waited on wealthy whites hand and foot opened their eyes quicker than most Negroes . . . every Thursday I scheduled my teaching there.

As a kid, I loved the heroes

I did not want to die as a hero. I wanted to live as a conqueror.

character, X Esquire, is a mysterious hero, hunting down and killing the businessmen trying to wipe out Britain by distributing quantities of free poisoned cigarettes. His second novel, The White Rider, was published the following spring, and in one memorable scene shows the hero chasing after his damsel in distress, only for him to overtake the villains, leap into their car…and promptly faint.

You wanna know why Joey Ramone's my hero? Cuz people like you never managed to grind him down. They never stole his spirit. He never gave in, never gave up, and never sold out, right til his last breath. And he's not dead. Guys like that, they live forever.

In your face, E! X totally won that bet. The dark madame left the room to let X continue to bleed out. X had one other thought beyond destroying the female. Where the hell did she get those sweet shoes?

band.   Harry’s favorite X Factor moment was singing on the charity single ‘Heroes’. Harry and One Direction   Harry and Louis are the only two bandmates of One Direction who have completed their driving exams.

One day, Zeus, the lord of the sky, heard Danaë calling his name. (Gods are like that. When you say their names, they perk right up. I bet they spend a lot of time Googling themselves, too.) Zeus peered down from the heavens with his super-keen X-ray vision. He saw the beautiful princess trapped in her bronze cell, lamenting her cruel fate. “Dude, that is wrong,” Zeus said to himself. “What kind of father imprisons his own daughter so she can’t fall in love or have kids?” (Actually, that was exactly the sort of thing Zeus might do, but whatever.)

I think that an objective reader may see how in the society which I was exposed as a black youth here in America, for me to wind up in a prison was really just about inevitable. It happens to so many thousands of black youth. I think that an objective reader may see how when I heard "The white man is the devil," when I played back what had been my own experiences, it was inevitable that I would respond positively; then the next twelve years of my life were devoted and dedicated to propagating that phrase among the black people. I think, I hope, that the objective reader, in following my life, the life of only one ghetto-created Negro-may gain a better picture and understanding than he has previously had of the black ghettoes which are shaping the lives and thinking of almost all of the 22 million Negroes who live in America. Thicker each year in these ghettoes is the kind of teenager that I was-with the wrong kinds of heroes, and the wrong kinds of influences. I am not saying that all of them become the kind of parasite I was. Fortunately, by far most do not.

Torchlight Infinite Currency Generator 2023 Code Cheats No Survey No Verification The most recent game in the Torchlight franchise is called Torchlight: Infinite, and it will be released on PC, iOS, and Android. On April 24th, 2022, this game, which is a prequel to Torchlight 2, will begin its most recent closed beta, bringing with it a ton of brand-new content for gamers to enjoy. 200 years after the events of Torchlight 2 in the Ember Tech era, gamers of Torchlight Infinite are transported there. Ember has been adopted by humanity as the main source of power for everything from technology to the occult. But wealth also brings opportunity, and the dark forces in charge have grabbed this chance to sow discord and corruption. As a result, a band of powerful fighters known as Torchlight has emerged as humanity's last hope to rid the planet of evil. Heroes The list of Heroes in Torchlight will be known to those who have participated in the last closed beta: Like Carino, a Divineshot who launches lethal projectiles at foes from a distance, and Rehan, a Berserker hero who causes terrible damage in melee combat, infinite

Away deep in the aim to study himself in the school of the land his ancestors' gravestones flowered, Rip planned to burn his oil on the journey for growth by the hike, the thumb, the hitch, the rod, the freight, the rail, and he x'd New York on a map and pencilled his way to and into and through and under and up and between and over and across states and capitals and counties and cities and towns and villages and valleys and plains and plateaus and prairies and mountains and hills and rivers and roadways and railways and waterways and deserts and islands and reservations and titanic parks and shores and, ocean across to ocean and great lakes down to gulfs, Rip beheld the west and the east and the north and the south of the Brobdingnagian and, God and Christ and Man, it was a pretty damn good grand big fat rash crass cold hot pure mighty lovely ugly hushed dark lonely loud lusty bitchy tender crazy cruel gentle raw sore dear deep history-proud precious place to see, and he sure would, he thought, make the try to see it and smell it and walk and ride and stop and talk and listen in it and go on in it and try to find and feel and hold and know the beliefs in it and the temper and the talents in it and the omens and joys and hopes and frights and lies and laughs and truths and griefs and glows and gifts and glories and glooms and wastes and profits and the pulse and pitch and the music and the magic and the dreams and facts and the action and the score and the scope and span of the mind and the heart and spine and logic and ego and spirit in the soul and the goal of it.

Sometimes in Texas as I walked, I would suddenly feel the presence of all the hidden guns around me, as though I were an x-ray machine. Here in London, I knew that not a single civilian—or police officer, for that matter—was armed.

X “One doesn’t need to be a great hero to take down a great evil; they just need to be able to do what needs to be done.” Sara “Even so, but what happens to one who took down the great evil, if they aren’t pure of heart won’t they just repeat the cycle of great evil?” X “The question isn’t great evil; the question is… what is evil?” X pauses. X “I’ll answer that for you, Evil doesn’t exist, neither does good, it’s all opinion.

You will then find yourself turning across time, incrementally and gracefully, to aim ever more accurately at that tiny pinpoint, the X that marks the spot, the bull’s-eye, and the center of the cross; to aim at the highest value of which you can conceive. You will pursue a target that is both moving and receding: moving, because you do not have the wisdom to aim in the proper direction when you first take aim; receding, because no matter how close you come to perfecting what you are currently practicing, new vistas of possible perfection will open up in front of you. Discipline and transformation will nonetheless lead you inexorably forward. With will and luck, you will find a story that is meaningful and productive, improves itself with time, and perhaps even provides you with more than a few moments of satisfaction and joy. With will and luck, you will be the hero of that story, the disciplined sojourner, the creative transformer, and the benefactor of your family and broader society.

This is one untold story of an extremely rare adventure that happened in the world of Minecraft. It is well documented in the “Top secret archived records of Minecraft”, also known as “X-Files”. They are not accessible to anyone. This adventure is known as “The Battle of Legends”. It’s one of the greatest adventures in the world of Minecraft. The world of Minecraft exists in a multi-verse. That means that many universes co-exist at the same point of time and at same place without disturbing each other. In other words, there are alternative timelines or parallel worlds existing simultaneously. A person can exist in many different universes at the same point of time. In some universes he may be a king or hero, whereas in some he may be a villain. This story relates to two alternative timelines existing simultaneously in the World of Minecraft. One timeline was of “Gang of Ninjas” and other was of “Minecraft Agent”. Many centuries ago, Dark Lord who is the supreme Master of dark energy, lost its most powerful warrior “Vertigo”. That creature was so powerful that it had power to destroy 10 galaxies. He was blowing up galaxy after galaxy, clearing the way for dark lord to take over the universe and become its unrivalled Master. “The secret society of brotherhood”, who were the guardians of the universe were afraid as to what might this monster do if he is not tamed or captured. They used to remain tensed and think about how to get rid of this monster. No plan seemed to work on that monster.

We live in a time when there seem to be very few heroes. The original meaning of hero was someone favored by heaven and having godlike qualities. A hero is not without humility; humility is our awareness of our dependence on Spirit, and our interdependence with our fellow human beings. Gandhi, Malcom X, and Martin Luther King were all examples of both humility and heroism. Often humility exists because of the hero's connection to a higher aim: humility in front of a great idea, in front of the Infinity of Life. It is this kind of humility that leads to the forming of a connection with the infinite creative energy. (p. 144)

Sometimes I think of my death,’ wrote Kurosawa, ‘I think of ceasing to be... and it is from these thoughts that Ikiru came.’ The story of a man diagnosed with stomach cancer, Kurosawa’s film is a serious contemplation of the nature of existence and the question of how we find meaning in our lives. Opening with a shot of an x-ray, showing the main character’s stomach, Ikiru, tells the tale of a dedicated, downtrodden civil servant who, diagnosed with a fatal cancer, learns to change his dull, unfulfilled existence, and suddenly discovers a zest for life. Plunging first into self-pity, then a bout of hedonistic pleasure-seeking on the frentic streets of post-war Tokyo, Watanabe - the film’s hero, finally finds satisfaction through building a children’s playground. In this, the role of his career, Shimura plays Kanji Watanabe, a senior civil servant sunk in ossified routine - a man who, as the dispassionate narrator tells us, has lived like a corpse for twenty-five years. Confronted with the news that he has terminal cancer with only months to live, he finds himself driven to give some meaning to his life. This was one of Kurosawa’s own favourites among his films. It grew, he said, out of a sense of his own mortality. Although he was only 42 and had yet to make most of his finest films, he was tormented with doubts about what his own life would be worth, saying, ‘I keep feeling I have lived so little. My heart aches with this feeling.’ From this angle, the film can be seen as a form of therapy, Kurosawa reassuring himself, and us, that life *can* be made to have meaning, even under the shadow of imminent death. As the critic Richard Brown wrote, Ikiru ‘consists of a restrained affirmation within the context of a giant negation. What it says in starkly lucid terms is that ‘life’ is meaningless when all’s said and done; at the same time one man’s life can acquire meaning when he undertakes to perform some task which is meaningful *to him*. What everyone else thinks about that man’s life is utterly beside the point, even ludicrous. The meaning of his life is what he commits the meaning of his life to be. There is nothing else.

One benefit of being the black sheep in the family—or in this case, being the only half villain and going to an all-hero school—is that everyone expects me to screw up. So when I don’t, it’s like I performed a miracle.

You might want to intellectualize your intentions, “I’m doing an allegory on the state of modern man in relation to the inherent dignity of the human soul.” That’s great. Save it for the interview after your movie is a hit. To write it, think in terms of one man, not mankind. Ask yourself, “Suppose event x happens to him. What would my hero do about it?

gobbled up Audre Lorde, E. Patrick Johnson, bell hooks, Joan Morgan, Dwight McBride, Patricia Hill Collins, and Kimberlé Crenshaw like my life depended on it. My life did depend on it. I wanted to overcome my gender racism, my queer racism. But I had to be willing to do for Black women and queer Blacks what I had been doing for Black men and Black heterosexuals, which meant first of all learning more—and then defending them like my heroes had.

exhale in relief when our train pulls out at 6:26 a.m. on the dot. I feel like a hero departing on an epic journey. And I’m thrilled to be with my partner in crime, metaphorically, and, after yesterday, literally. After all, X marks the spot.

Heroes are important. Heroes tell us who we want to be but when they made this particular hero they didn't give him a gun, they gave him a screwdriver to fix things. They didn't give him a tank or a warship or an X-Wing, they gave him a call box from which you can call for help and they didn't give him a superpower or a heat-ray, they gave him an extra heart. And that's extraordinary. There will never come a time when we don't need a hero like the doctor.

From Mythology of the Celts by F. X. Robinson (Hale, 1902) AVALON, the idyllic “Island of Apples” where King Arthur was taken after receiving his fatal wound, is that same Land of Youth, always located on an island on the western horizon, to which Celtic heroes were summoned to dwell in eternity. Bran, as we have seen already, was beckoned by a beautiful woman bearing an apple-branch silver-white with blossom to Emain, described as an island in the west where apple trees are perpetually in flower and fruit at the same time. The connection between apples and immortality is of course very ancient, and found throughout Europe. In Scandinavian legend, the gods owed their eternal youth to a diet of magic apples, guarded by Idun, the goddess of Spring and renewal. The Greeks, too, had their magical apples of the Hesperides—those Western Isles again. From Ireland comes the tale of how Cu Roi hid his soul in an apple, that he might not be slain in battle, only to be destroyed when Cu Chulain split the fruit with his mighty sword. For a suggestion of why this should be, we have only to look at the language of symbolism and its reflection in the natural world. When an apple is halved crosswise, each half reveals the image of a five-pointed star. This, of course, is one of the most ancient and universally recognized emblems of immortality; a sacred sign, like the apple itself, of the Great Goddess and her supernatural realm.

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Arguably, Moriarty as Holmes’s foil is overstated by modern adaptations. And Mr. X, too, was only in the final Poirot novel. In the written works, these villains are one-offs, not the stuff of ongoing pursuit. But their legacy is not in the cat-and-mouse, it’s in what they take from the heroes. Holmes compromises his rationality, and Poirot, to put it simply, switches sides. A nemesis isn’t about matching wits or being equal. It’s about making the detective less.

I tried to ignore the visceral discomfort that Rose at the dragon's words. For these were qualities I desired in myself. Xiuying was benevolent and tender-hearted. Sky was noble and kind. These were traits I tried to mimic, strengths I knew that Heroes of every Legend possessed. But who was I diluting? I was not the hero of this story.

You’re a series detective now. You have a canon. Which means”—he spun his fingers in the air—“ you’re due a nemesis.” “A nemesis?” I chewed the word. “Every great detective has one. Your equal in wit, skill and mind. Which, for you, well . . . that’s not the point. Do you see? Moriarty. Mr. X.” Arguably, Moriarty as Holmes’s foil is overstated by modern adaptations. And Mr. X, too, was only in the final Poirot novel. In the written works, these villains are one-offs, not the stuff of ongoing pursuit. But their legacy is not in the cat-and-mouse, it’s in what they take from the heroes. Holmes compromises his rationality, and Poirot, to put it simply, switches sides. A nemesis isn’t about matching wits or being equal. It’s about making the detective less.