Torchbearer Quotes

Children being children, however, the grotesque Hopping Pot had taken hold of their imaginations. The solution was to jettison the pro-Muggle moral but keep the warty cauldron, so by the middle of the sixteenth century a different version of the tale was in wide circulation among wizarding families. In the revised story, the Hopping Pot protects an innocent wizard from his torch-bearing, pitchfork-toting neighbours by chasing them away from the wizard's cottage, catching them and swallowing them whole.

Never overestimate the strength of the torchbearer's arm, for even the strongest arms grow weary.

Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops: I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone, Rom. Let me be ta'en,, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'T is but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care to stay than will to go: Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so, How is't my soul? let's talk; it is not day. Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes; O! now I would they had changed voices too, Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunt's up to the day. O! now be gone; more light and light it grows. Rom. More light and light; more dark and dark our woes.

Are writers the torchbearers of humanity? It’s a romantic idea, but it’s complete rubbish. We writers are the crocodiles in the river.

Following directly behind the bier were the servants who would, in earlier times, have been slaughtered at the graveside, along with a warrior's horse. Musicians and torchbearers came next, with the rear taken up by the mimes- sinister, silent figures in wax masks modelled on dead members of the family.

Haydon was more than his model, he was his inspiration, the torch-bearer of a certain kind of English calling which - for the very reason that it was vague and understated and elusive - had made sense of Guillam's life till now.

The Allies had made war on Napoleon as a tyrant and an oppressor of nations; yet once they had got him out of the way, they did him the favor of representing him as the torchbearer of the French Revolution. They did him the further favor of repeating his mistakes and besting him at them.

She was a liminal goddess who was present at all the boundaries and transitional moments in life. She was also an apotropaic (‘evil-averting’) protector and guide, as illustrated by some of the many titles she was given. Hekate’s triple form emphasised her power over the three realms, these being the heavens, sea and earth.

The path of service is but a thorn-infested trail in the woods - a trail that is not yet made a trail, but simply lies indistinguishable from the rest of the jungle. And the work of a torch-bearer of progress is to make the trail appear and soften the thorns by crushing them with their own footsteps, while bearing an infinite amount of agony.

There's no progress without a dingaling.

You can lead and motivate people without a certificate or title, what you need to do is to tell people a compelling secret that was only known to you.

hekataion.

Heroes don't stand in line, they set out alone into the unknown and lines form behind them.

Hekate has been given numerous epithets describing her roles and qualities over the thousands of years of her worship. Some of her well known titles include: Chthonia (‘earthly one’), Dadouchos (‘torch-bearer’), Enodia (‘of the ways’), Kleidouchos (‘key-bearer’), Kourotrophos (‘child’s nurse’), Phosphorus (‘light-bearer’), Propolos (‘companion’), Propylaia (‘before the gates’), Soteira (‘saviour’), Triformis (‘three bodied’), Trioditis (‘of the three ways’).

Our view agrees with K.F. Smith, who in his article Hekate’s Suppers[162] suggested that it may have been on the first night that the moon was visible again, signifying a possible connection with Hekate as a lunar goddess, rising, like the moon, from the underworld on the night of the new moon.

It is not that education has never been accorded adequate importance in India. The writings of the founding fathers—including Mahatma Gandhi, Rabindranath Tagore, Maulana Azad, Ambedkar, and even the spiritual torchbearers of modern India such as Vivekananda and Sri Aurobindo—stressed that education would form the core of India’s “tryst with destiny,” as Jawaharlal Nehru would have put it. Almost all of them suggested ways by which a new generation of Indians could be educated in a liberal and scientific environment where modern society was built on traditional strengths, one supplementing but not substituting for the other, and where education was deeply connected to the needs of people. But somehow, independent India could not build on the richness of this philosophical tradition, or on the depth of its populace’s respect for education. This history seems to have been lost in the current debate, mired in the more mundane issues of access and quality defined in terms of enrollment numbers and teacher-student ratios.

In due course I got my license. I was a pilot now, full fledged. I dropped into casual employments; no misfortunes resulting, intermittent work gave place to steady and protracted engagements. Time drifted smoothly and prosperously on, and I supposed—and hoped—that I was going to follow the river the rest of my days, and die at the wheel when my mission was ended. But by and by the war came, commerce was suspended, my occupation was gone. I had to seek another livelihood. So I became a silver miner in Nevada; next, a newspaper reporter; next, a gold miner in California; next, a reporter in San Francisco; next, a special correspondent in the Sandwich Islands; next, a roving correspondent in Europe and the East; next, an instructional torch-bearer on the lecture platform; and, finally, I became a scribbler of books, and an immovable fixture among the other rocks of New England. In so few words have I disposed of the twenty-one slow-drifting years that have come and gone since I last looked from the windows of a pilot-house.

The difference between a dictator and a true leader, is in intention. Given enough resources anybody can manipulate the minds of the masses and become their chosen authority, for the masses rarely look past the veil of the candidate's charm. And this is more evident today than ever, as a psychologically unfit misogynistic bully has swayed his way into the oval office with nothing but charm and charisma. So, basically we live in a society where a bully can become the authority of a great nation, the history of which is filled with true leaders who were the forerunners of humanitarian glory and real progress - these leaders were not simply the leaders of a country, or a party, but they were and still remain in the heart of the civilized humans as the leaders of humanity. They were the torch-bearers of egalitarianism and their light spread across the globe and touched countless lives with the warmth of humaneness. They lived among the masses but they didn't let the prejudices of the masses become their own, let alone infect the masses with more prejudices, unlike today's so-called leadership in America. They made America truly a great nation, by turning it into a symbol of liberty and acceptance, and today that very greatness is at stake, as the primitive evils of prejudices and discriminations have once again begun to creep into its backbone, through the words and actions of its very so-called leader. This is not a threat to democracy, for democracy itself at our current evolutionary stage, is a threat to our progress, rather it is a threat to the heritage of every single act of kindness, reasoning and acceptance ever committed in the history of humanity. The masses are existentially allowed to talk nonsense and advocate prejudices, but when an authority of the masses begins to talk nonsense and advocate prejudice and bigotry, it is an existential crisis for not just those masses but all humans around the world, with implications of catastrophic proportions. A leader is to take away prejudices from the psychological edifice of a country - a leader is to uplift a country, that is, a people, while warming their minds with the gentle flames of love, acceptance and reasoning. In fact, that's the only kind of true leadership there is, rest are just uncivilized tribalism that brings along more and more conflicts in the heart of the people within a country as well as outside of it.

This has always been a city of thoughtful rogues, greedy do-gooders, irreverent theologians, socialist entrepreneurs, hedonistic environmentalists, sensitive newspapermen, philosophical rockers, and high-minded sensualists. And through the years, these mavericks have carried, like an unruly band of Olympic torchbearers, the rebellious, restless, life-affirming fire that was lit in 1849.

Do what the society tells you and they would accept you as a member of society, but do what your mission tells you and they would place you on a pedestal as a torchbearer of society.

I burnt my youth, so that you could have a torch. Take this torch and ignite yourself - burn my soldier of ascension - burn - the more your burn, the more human this world will become.

I burnt my youth, so that you could have a torch. Take this torch and ignite yourself - burn my soldier of ascension, burn - the more you burn, the more human this world will become.

I have no grudge against the lifeless corpses, but it's from the alive humans that my soldiers will come - soldiers capable of moving mountains - soldiers capable of breathing life into the barren desert - these unbending, unafraid, uncorrupted soldiers, bearing unbearable pain, will lift the world from the ashes of darkness up into the civilized dawn.

We are the explorers of impossibility - we decide what is possible, not some tradition, constitution or factualization - not tradition, because traditions are habits of the past, and as such, are unqualified to dictate life of the present - not constitution, because that too is born of the past, and as such can never be taken as gospel - and not factualization, because a world run by facts alone may be suitable for the existence of cold, mechanical computers, but not warm and vulnerable human beings.

Leaders should be knowledgeable because informed leaders are torchbearers who walk in front and lead the way even in times of darkness.

You Are The Universe (The Sonnet) You don't carry the torch, you are the torch. You don't build the bridge, you are the bridge. You don't pave the way, you are the way. You don't make peace, you are the peace. You don't build the future, you are the future. You don't build civilization, you are civilization. You don't serve the society, you are the society. You don't work for reform, you are reformation. You don't walk the path, you are the path. You don't lift humanity, you are the humanity. You don't make progress, you are the progress. You don't serve the community, you are community. You don't live in the universe, you are the universe. Dimension destiny unfolds only in the human heart.

But should a man love such a bad country? This people estranged from God, a people that had committed so many crimes and shown no sign of remorse—was this nation of slaves worthy of sacrificial victims, geniuses who had laid their heads on the block unknown and unsung? For a hundred, for two hundred years to come, this people would be content with its trough. Should the torchbearers of human thought be sacrificed for them?

looked back, one saw the same dust and faces... Foremost of all marched four men with sabres—this was the vanguard. Next, behind, the crowd of singers, and behind them the trumpeters on horseback. The vanguard and the chorus of singers, like torch-bearers in a funeral procession, often forgot to keep the regulation distance and pushed a long way ahead... Ryabovitch was with the first cannon of the fifth battery.

If one looked ahead, one saw dust and the backs of men’s heads; if one looked back, one saw the same dust and faces... Foremost of all marched four men with sabres—this was the vanguard. Next, behind, the crowd of singers, and behind them the trumpeters on horseback. The vanguard and the chorus of singers, like torch-bearers in a funeral procession, often forgot to keep the regulation distance and pushed a long way ahead... Ryabovitch was with the first cannon of the fifth battery.

Pagan?" The second torchbearer spat. "We are Norsemen.

Allow me to refresh your obviously faulty memories. I allow you to stay within my front garden on the understanding that you defend the house against all intruders, except the ones I have described, on numerous occasions. Torch-bearing mobs?" "Eat them!" chorused the criminally insane fey of Cabal's garden, a tribe whose stature was inversely proportional to their malevolence. "Correct. The postman?" "Eat him!" they cried joyfully. "No!" snapped Cabal. "You let the postman by!" "Oops," said the garden. There was some small shuffling while they hid a peaked cap behind a rosebush.

It had begun not long after he had learned that she had no procrustus. Tikan, who hardly knew Sielle or her history, and whose sleeves were ever streaked with his heart’s blood, had started taking her as a blank canvas on which to project his own idea of her. And this idea was, insidiously, an abstraction he made out of her. To him, she was becoming the living symbol of his cause. Despite her flesh and her mind and words—rather, due to these—he began seeing her as a mere ideal of humanity, a fleshless world-soul containing in her the essences of each living person. A spirited, thinking person in a world dispirited and mindless. The torch-bearer and the posterity. The reason, the final cause. In her he saw some image of survival in the ideal unity of freedom. And in some sense, as the moment lingered, it was as if he were aiming his gaze through her, beyond her, and not quite at her.

Sometimes standing for truth is painful and an isolated journey because truth is not always what we like to hear and live with. However, it is your belief in the purity of truth, your confidence in yourself and your godly values that will give you the strength to be a torchbearer of truth. With truth you are always a winner even if it comes late or with a price to pay.

His gait is feline, or viverrine, not quite human. He walks with bent knees, on the balls of his feet; his small deep-set eyes scour the room with raw contempt. Crivano recalls a torch-bearing dervish in Tiflis who made a run at their powder store; the janissary archers shot him so full of arrows that when he finally died their shafts kept his limp corpse off the dirt. The dervish’s face as he charged bore an expression identical to the one the Nolan wears now. The world, Crivano thinks, is a poor container for such men.

warning he swung his bone. It struck the side of my left knee. I dropped, landing hard on my side. I pulled my knees to my chest in expectation of another blow, but he turned away from me and shook his weapon in the air and howled. The mob responded in a cacophony of celebration. Then he leveled the bone at Pascal and barked what might have been an order. Two males went to Pascal and heaved him to his feet. His limbs dangled lifelessly. His head was lolling from left to right. The torchbearer crossed the room and slapped Pascal hard across the face. He peeled Pascal’s eyelids open with his thumb. Then he stepped back, lifted Pascal’s shirt, and thrust the flaming end of the torch into his stomach. Pascal’s head snapped back

You can kill the person, but not the idea behind the person.

There is only one anthem for the leader - for the lionhearted builder of world - sacrifice.

Leaders should be knowledgeable because informed leaders are torchbearers who walk in front and lead the way, even in times of darkness.

VC Fred Wilson estimates that a typical startup will turn over its management team three times between its inception and when it achieves significant scale. Wilson emphasizes that turning over a team is not the same as firing someone for poor performance. Still, it can be tough to create new roles for senior managers who can’t handle the evolving demands of their current positions, and terminating them can be demoralizing for colleagues who’ve worked with them since the beginning—especially if those individuals are torchbearers for the startup’s mission and values. Wilson notes that serial entrepreneurs, having seen these patterns before, are better equipped to manage executive churn. He also advises founders to be open with new hires, letting them know that “they may not make it to the finish line, but they will be handsomely compensated with equity.

She Was God Sent A special appreciation for a loving Mother She has gone to sleep Her beautiful soul is at rest She watched as we wept When we realized she had left But we remained kept By our appreciation for her She lived life to the fullest Until her last breath When blood could no longer flow to her heart We wondered who would lend a helping hand Because while alive, she always had our backs Even when things were hard We went through intense hurt As we dealt with her absence Yet we admired her race Which she ran with grace Our gift so rare A torchbearer She was our strength Truly, she was God-sent

Stand tall as a rock - as a pillar of strength - indestructible, incorruptible, insurmountable - and at the very sight of you half the world will turn civilized.

Be the future.

Several major and significant discoveries in science occurred in the 19th and 20th century through the works of scientists who believed in God. Even in just the last 500 years of modern scientific enterprise, a great many scientists were religious including names like Isaac Newton, Nicholas Copernicus, Johannes Kepler, Robert Boyle, William Thomson Kelvin, Michael Faraday, James Clerk Maxwell, Louis Pasteur and Nobel Laureate scientists like: 1.Max Planck 2.Guglielmo Marconi 3.Robert A. Milikan 4.Erwin Schrodinger 5.Arthur Compton 6.Isidor Isaac Rabi 7.Max Born 8.Dererk Barton 9.Nevill F. Mott 10.Charles H. Townes 11.Christian B. Anfinsen 12.John Eccles 13.Ernst B. Chain 14.Antony Hewish 15.Daniel Nathans 16.Abdus Salam 17.Joseph Murray 18.Joseph H. Taylor 19.William D. Phillips 20.Walter Kohn 21.Ahmed Zewail 22.Aziz Sancar 23.Gerhard Etrl Thus, it is important for the torchbearers of science to know their scope and highlight what they can offer to society in terms of curing diseases, improving food production and easing transport and communication systems, for instance. To mock faith and faithful, the scientists who do not believe in God do not just hurt the faithful people who are non-scientists, but a great many of their own colleagues who are scientists, but not atheists.

Not politician - not soldier - not scientist - not philosopher - not a professional of any kind - but a human being - a human being with the fire of accountability - that's what the world is desperately craving for. And that human - that majestic, life-giving, torch-bearing, vigorous human - is not going to fall from the sky - for it is nobody else but you.

Ain't The Center (The Sonnet) You are the Alpha, You are Omega. You are Altair, You are the Vega. You are the distance, You are the contact. You are the runner, You are the racetrack. You are the race, You are the prize. You are torchbearer, You are the light. You ain't the center of the universe. For in reality, you are the universe.

Magic is a major aspect linking Isis to Hekate. There is a bronze statue in Rome that depicts Hekate wearing the lunar crown of Isis, topped by lotus blossoms, and carrying a lighted torch in each hand. The statue is dedicated to Hekate and Serapis from someone who was saved by them from an unnamed danger. Both Isis and Artemis are shown carrying a torch as is Torch-bearing Hekate who illuminates the secrets of the underworld.

The whole world is my diary, I am the world's destiny.

You know what I am - I am the same thing that you are. I am the torch, as well as the torch-bearer - I am harmony, as well as the advocate of harmony - I am progress, as well as the driver of progress - I am humanity's beacon of oneness - I am humanity's struggle for equality - I am humanity's fight for justice - and this is not I speaking to you, this is you speaking to yourself - for you and I are not separate, but one eternal all-encompassing reflection that has the potential to resonate through the chambers of time, once it recognizes, realizes and utilizes its reverberating responsibilities towards the world it's born in.

I wanted to use science in a way that would have direct humanitarian consequences in interhuman relationships. And now even if I die, my works will keep on creating lion-hearted humanitarian torch-bearers of progress, for ages to come.

He squints down the shoreline to see a shadowy band of torchbearers emerge from the ocean, closely followed by a large group of apparitions dressed in battle gear. Some of the ghostly figures are clothed in decorative helmets, others wear cloaks, and all carry menacing weapons of death ranging from long spears to thumping clubs.

Do something so grand with your life that you can speak out loud to the naysayers, not with arrogance, but with self-respect - "if you die, you'll be forgotten in a week, like any other animal on earth, but when I die, my name will be an inspiration to thousands of generations to come.

I am like the Vatican or Mecca, people love visiting there once in a while to find solution to their problems and confusions, but no one likes living there. Such is and will always be the predicament of the path of servitude and sacrifice. Knowing this, if you still can’t hold yourself from running to the aid of the helpless and downtrodden, then my friend, there is no power in any obscurity to keep you from uplifting the society.

Speeches, stories, ceremonies, and symbols become your unique torchbearer toolkit to help communicate your dream in a compelling and desirable way, helping your travelers long for and help achieve it.

THE TORCHBEARER’S TOOLKIT — Deliver Speeches

Hurricane Humans (A Sonnet) Come all ye misfits and rebels, Let's march to shatter the games. Break all golden chains of comfort, Let's work forgetting our names. Come all ye sneered and mocked, We must burn as flames of unity. Let's turn into a human tsunami, And wash away all hate and rigidity. Hurricane humans we are o brethren, Savagery no more is master to us. The fountain of inclusion is our lifeblood, We won't let tradition break our universe. Let’s finally build the kingdom of heaven, With clay from our heart’s unifying Eden.

When Tata was a student in the Government College at Mangalore in 1922, Kannappa, who was his teacher, one day found him in a pensive mood. When asked the reason, Tata had said he did not find college education useful to his life’s journey. The very next day, Tata quit college and joined India’s freedom movement that had just been reinvigorated by the charismatic messiah, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Tata became an ardent follower of Mahatma Gandhi, struggling tirelessly to advance causes such as the promotion of khadi and cottage industries, abolition of untouchability, eradication of traditional caste-based concubinage and the promotion of adult literacy. Tata’s actions caused much unhappiness within his extremely orthodox family and community. Even Tata’s father, Shesha Karanth, a remarkably audacious man in his own right, shed tears of disappointment over the life choices Tata was making. Shesha Karanth’s closest friend, one Narayana Mayya, had tried to placate him saying although the renegade Shivarama had abandoned Brahminism, he had seven other fine sons to be torch-bearers of tradition. Shesha Karanth had retorted that Mayya had no idea of the true worth of his fourth son Shivarama, ‘who is weightier than all the others combined’.

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Hekate’s triple form emphasised her power over the three realms, these being the heavens, sea and earth.

The Trainer’s Torch Teaching is light, but training is fire— It builds the grit, it lifts desire. Not just lessons written in a test, But training us to rise our best. Salute to every torchbearer—Happy Teachers’ Day!

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