U Beautiful Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to U Beautiful. Here they are! All 146 of them:

She was intelligent, accomplished, beautiful. She was everything I could have asked for in a woman. But she was a king maker. She wanted power. She must have thought her only path to the throne was through Kastor.' 'My honourable barbarian. I wouldn't have picked that as your type.' 'Type?' 'A pretty face, a devious mind and a ruthless nature.
C.S. Pacat (Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince, #2))
They are surely gods who speak to him With steady voices A glance from him drives men to their knees His sigh brings cities to ruin I wonder if he dreams of surrender On a bed of white flowers Or is that the mistaken hope Of every would-be conqueror? The world was not made for beauty like his.
C.S. Pacat (Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince, #2))
They are surely gods who speak to him With steady voices   A glance from him drives men to their knees His sigh brings cities to ruin   I wonder if he dreams of surrender On a bed of white flowers   Or is that the mistaken hope Of every would-be conqueror? The world was not made for beauty like his
C.S. Pacat (Captive Prince: Volume Two (Captive Prince, #2))
Look, America is no more a democracy than Russia is a Communist state. The governments of the U.S. and Russia are practically the same. There's only a difference of degree. We both have the same basic form of government: economic totalitarianism. In other words, the settlement to all questions, the solutions to all issues are determined not by what will make the people most healthy and happy in the bodies and their minds but by economics. Dollars or rubles. Economy uber alles. Let nothing interfere with economic growth, even though that growth is castrating truth, poisoning beauty, turning a continent into a shit-heap and riving an entire civilization insane. Don't spill the Coca-Cola, boys, and keep those monthly payments coming.
Tom Robbins (Another Roadside Attraction)
But depression wasn't the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far beyond the personal: a sick, drenching nausea at all humanity and human endeavor from the dawn of time. The writhing loathsomeness of the biological order. Old age, sickness, death. No escape for anyone. Even the beautiful ones were like soft fruit about to spoil. And yet somehow people still kept fucking and breeding and popping out new fodder for the grave, producing more and more new beings to suffer like this was some kind of redemptive, or good, or even somehow morally admirable thing: dragging more innocent creatures into the lose-lose game. Squirming babies and plodding, complacent, hormone-drugged moms. Oh, isn't he cute? Awww. Kids shouting and skidding in the playground with no idea what future Hells await them: boring jobs and ruinous mortgages and bad marriages and hair loss and hip replacements and lonely cups of coffee in an empty house and a colostomy bag at the hospital. Most people seemed satisfied with the thin decorative glaze and the artful stage lighting that sometimes, made the bedrock atrocity of the human predicament look somewhat more mysterious or less abhorrent. People gambled and golfed and planted gardens and traded stocks and had sex and bought new cars and practiced yoga and worked and prayed and redecorated their homes and got worked up over the news and fussed over their children and gossiped about their neighbors and pored over restaurant reviews and founded charitable organizations and supported political candidates and attended the U.S. Open and dined and travelled and distracted themselves with all kinds of gadgets and devices, flooding themselves incessantly with information and texts and communication and entertainment from every direction to try to make themselves forget it: where we were, what we were. But in a strong light there was no good spin you could put on it. It was rotten from top to bottom.
Donna Tartt (The Goldfinch)
She has the kind of smile that makes a man want to start writing very bad poetry. Dazzling and genuine and as beautiful as the rest of her.
Elle Kennedy (The Chase (Briar U, #1))
I met a girl in a U-Haul. A beautiful girl And I fell for her. I fell hard. Unfortunately, sometimes life gets in the way. Life definitely got in my way. It got all up in my damn way, Life blocked the door with a stack of wooden 2x4's nailed together and attached to a fifteen inch concrete wall behind a row of solid steel bars, bolted to a titanium frame that no matter how hard I shoved against it- It wouldn't budge. Sometimes life doesn't budge. It just gets all up in your damn way. It blocked my plans, my dreams, my desires, my wishes, my wants, my needs. It blocked out that beautiful girl That I fell so hard for. Life tries to tell you what's best for you What should be most important to you What should come in first Or second Or third. I tried so hard to keep it all organized, alphabetized, stacked in chronological order, everything in its perfect space, its perfect place. I thought that's what life wanted me to do. This is what life needed for me to do. Right? Keep it all in sequence? Sometimes, life gets in your way. It gets all up in your damn way. But it doesn't get all up in your damn way because it wants you to just give up and let it take control. Life doesn't get all up in your damn way because it just wants you to hand it all over and be carried along. Life wants you to fight it. It wants you to grab an axe and hack through the wood. It wants you to get a sledgehammer and break through the concrete. It wants you to grab a torch and burn through the metal and steel until you can reach through and grab it. Life wants you to grab all the organized, the alphabetized, the chronological, the sequenced. It wants you to mix it all together, stir it up, blend it. Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your little brother should be the only thing that comes first. Life doesn't want you to let it tell you that your career and your education should be the only thing that comes in second. And life definitely doesn't want me To just let it tell me that the girl I met, The beautiful, strong, amazing, resilient girl That I fell so hard for Should only come in third. Life knows. Life is trying to tell me That the girl I love, The girl I fell So hard for? There's room for her in first. I'm putting her first.
Colleen Hoover
Being a copper I like to see the law win. I'd like to see the flashy well-dressed mugs like Eddie Mars spoiling their manicures in the rock quarry at Folsom, alongside of the poor little slum-bred guys that got knocked over on their first caper amd never had a break since. That's what I'd like. You and me both lived too long to think I'm likely to see it happen. Not in this town, not in any town half this size, in any part of this wide, green and beautiful U.S.A. We just don't run our country that way.
Raymond Chandler (The Big Sleep (Philip Marlowe #1))
Little sister don't you worry about a thing today Take the heat from the sun Little sister I know that everything is not ok But you're like honey on my tongue True love never can be rent But only true love can keep beauty innocent I could never take a chance Of losing love to find romance In the mysterious distance Between a man and a woman No I could never take a chance 'Cause I could never understand The mysterious distance Between a man and a woman You can run from love And if it's really love it will find you Catch you by the heel But you can't be numb for love The only pain is to feel nothing at all How can I hurt when I'm holding you? I could never take a chance Of losing love to find romance In the mysterious distance Between a man and a woman And you're the one, there's no-one else who makes me want to lose myself In the mysterious distance Between a man and a woman Brown eyed girl across the street On rue Saint Divine I thought this is the one for me But she was already mine You were already mine... Little sister I've been sleeping in the street again Like a stray dog Little sister I've been trying to feel complete again But you're gone and so is God The soul needs beauty for a soul mate When the soul wants...the soul waits ... No I could never take a chance Of losing love to find romance In the mysterious distance Between a man and a woman For love and FAITH AND SEX and fear And all the things that keep us here In the mysterious distance Between a man and a woman How can I hurt when I'm holding you?
All the beauty that's been lost before wants to find us again
The beautiful thing about best friends? They can tell when you don’t wanna talk, and they don’t push it.
Angie Thomas (The Hate U Give (The Hate U Give, #1))
A typical race morning usually starts out looking like a scene from a zombie movie: individuals or pairs of people walking down a deserted street, all headed in the same direction.... Inevitably, regardless of the weather, U2's "Beautiful Day" streams out of loudspeakers.
Sarah Bowen Shea (Train Like a Mother: How to Get Across Any Finish Line - and Not Lose Your Family, Job, or Sanity)
The best kind of of revenge is to let him see how beautiful u r w/ or w/out him.
Pamela Ann
The framing of what there is by the mind is what you call beauty.
U.G. Krishnamurti (Society (It's terror, not love that keeps us together...))
May there only be peaceful and cheerful Earth Days to come for our beautiful Spaceship Earth as it continues to spin and circle in frigid space with its warm and fragile cargo of animate life.
Thant Myint-U
There are oasis in deserts...so also in a life of conflicting situations, we can build our own beautiful home.
Rajesh U.K
You forget how beautiful life is, if you don’t get a chance to see things like that.
Chris Kyle (American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History)
Don’t ever rule out the option of U-turn in your life, because one day you will need it! The moment you realize that you are going to the wrong direction, turn to the right direction instantly, with a beautiful U-turn!
Mehmet Murat ildan
B4 U,my life ws lyk a moonless night.Very dark, but der wer stars,points of light & reason.And den you shot across my sky like a meteor.Suddenly everythng ws on fire;ter ws brilliancy,der ws beauty.Wen u wer gone,wen d meteor had fallen over d horizon,everythng went black.Nothing had changed,but my eyes wer blinded by d light I cudn’t c d stars anymore & ter was no more reason, for anything.
Stephanie Mayer
A Black, E white, I red, U green, O blue: vowels, Someday I shall tell of your mysterious births: A, black velvety corset of dazzling flies Buzzing around cruel smells, Gulfs of shadow; E, white innocence of vapors and of tents, Spears of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of Queen Anne's lace; I, purples, spitting blood, smile of beautiful lips In anger or in drunken penitence; U, waves, divine shudderings of green seas, The calm of pastures dotted with animals, the peace of furrows Which alchemy prints on wide, studious foreheads; O, sublime Bugle full of strange piercing sound, Silences crossed by Worlds and by Angels; - O the Omega, the violet ray of her Eyes!
Arthur Rimbaud
There are two different kinds of glee club in this world. The first sing barbershop favourites and Gershwin tunes, they swing gently, moving from side to side and sometimes clicking their fingers and winking. Howard could basically deal with that type. He had got through those occasions graced by glee clubs of that type. But these boys were not of that type. Swaying and clicking and winking were just how they got warmed up. Tonight this glee club had chosen as their opener ‘Pride (In the Name of Love)’ by U2, which they had taken the trouble to transform into a samba. They swayed, they clicked, they winked. They did coordinated spins. They switched places with each other. They moved forward, they moved back – always retaining their formation. They smiled the kind of smile you might employ when trying to convince a lunatic to quit holding a gun to your mother’s head.
Zadie Smith (On Beauty)
It's the same thing that makes all pop music so heartbreaking. Even when Miley Cyrus sings "So I put my hands up, they're playin' my song / The butterflies fly away / I'm noddin' my head like 'Yeah!' / Movin' my hips like 'Yeah!'" in her song "Party in the U.S.A." It's that chirping mirth against a backdrop of despair, that juxtaposition of blithe optimism against all the crushing brutalities and inadequacies of life. The image of an ineffably beautiful butterfly flitting by the shattered windows of a dilapidated, abandoned factory is not so poignant because it highlights the indomitable life force. To the contrary, the butterfly (and the pop song) is like a PowerPoint cursor; it's there to whet our perception of and strengthen our affinity for what's moribund, for what's always dying before our eyes. Loving the moribund is our way of signaling the dead from this shore: "We are your kinsmen...
Mark Leyner (The Sugar Frosted Nutsack)
Hey you just caught my eye and I wanted to tell you that you are extremely beautiful your always beautiful that's why I love u
Allie Roberts
A girl is like a rose. So beautiful, yet so delicate. If u finally got this in your hand and threw it away like nothing, the girl heart will shatter, a rose will lay there and die
nikki algoe
For if u have positive attitude n creativeness u will always see a graveyard as a beautiful garden...
She was made for me, and I’d spend the rest of my life giving her every beautiful thing she deserved—starting with my love.
Maya Hughes (The Third Best Thing (Fulton U, #3))
Let it be..let it be.. Let the ppl think the way they want, Live the life the way u want Let it be..let it be.. Nothing is permanent then why to worry, Live life condition free Let it be..let it be.. Smile cost nothing..still u pay for it, why we live life in hurry when everthing is tempory.. Let it be..let it be.. Respect ur elders wether they scold u, love urslf wthr no1 else does, u r most beautiful creature.beleive and accept it nd.. Let it be..let it be.. U r the king, u r the ruler..conquer urslf nd let things pass like water in the river..move with flow..live has no other flow.. So..let it be..let it be..
Nitish Sharma
Cultivate a hobby f frgvin ,a spirit f optimism. Walk wth d faith. Nd rejoy n d beauties f nature, be proud n happy n d gudnes f ur suroudin , surpassing al d pain nd now smile ;) coz it's ur life! it's tym u enjoy it ;)
Nomadom je postao onda kada je o omjeru ljepote počeo razmišljati kao o ljubavnom odnosu između dvaju dijelova u kojem se suprotnosti privlače upravo magičnom snagom, a isti omjer jednako gospodari i arhitekturom i prirodom.
Jasna Horvat (Auron)
I never wanted to be Protestant. Jews do, plenty of them. Not me. To be assimilated, to be respectable, to be detached like the Wasps, I understand the desire, but I knew never to try. I see all those distinguished Wasps with the beautiful gray hair and the pinstripe suits who don't have pimples on their ass. They're my lawyers....These guys are quiet. I don't want to be that way. I couldn't begin to be that way. I'm the wild Jew of the pampas. I am the Golem of the U.S.A.
Philip Roth
one thing i have realized about modelling, beauty is skin deep. what u have inside accentuate on the outside meaning dissing other people brings them down. remember we are all in competition, but don't let vanity bring down your true worth.
Jenelle Joanne Ramsami
Life Life Life Life; it fascinates me, it intoxicates me, it upsets me and it surprises me. However, I love Life because I know it has a meaning in whatever consequences it puts us in. At the end of the day Life is the most beautiful teacher and I want to Romance her!
Dr. S.U.A.H Syed
Although science today denies race any standing as objective truth, and the U.S. census faces taxonomic meltdown, many Americans cling to race as the unschooled cling to superstition. So long as racial discrimination remains a fact of life and statistics can be arranged to support racial difference, the American belief in races will endure. But confronted with the actually existing American population—its distribution of wealth, power, and beauty—the notion of American whiteness will continue to evolve, as it has since the creation of the American Republic. THE HISTORY OF WHITE PEOPLE
Nell Irvin Painter (The History of White People)
Apparently, I was taking U.S. History again this year, which was the only history taught at Jackson, making the name redundant. I would be spending my second consecutive year studying the “War of Northern Aggression” with Mr. Lee, no relation. But as we all knew, in spirit Mr. Lee and the famous Confederate general were one and the same. Mr. Lee was one of the few teachers who actually hated me. Last year, on a dare from Link, I had written a paper called “The War of Southern Aggression,” and Mr. Lee had given me a D. Guess the teachers actually did read the papers sometimes, after all.
Kami Garcia (Beautiful Creatures (Caster Chronicles, #1))
Fear is a beautiful mirror reflecting the reality of great things with false illussions. After all, images in the mirror ain't real at all, they're just virtual. So, keep ballin' without checkin mirrors coz u may see an image that proves it's hard -- ya, u never know it's hard till u've done it!!!
Mphezulu Xetho Dainamyk
One of my greatest fears is family decline.There’s an old Chinese saying that “prosperity can never last for three generations.” I’ll bet that if someone with empirical skills conducted a longitudinal survey about intergenerational performance, they’d find a remarkably common pattern among Chinese immigrants fortunate enough to have come to the United States as graduate students or skilled workers over the last fifty years. The pattern would go something like this: • The immigrant generation (like my parents) is the hardest-working. Many will have started off in the United States almost penniless, but they will work nonstop until they become successful engineers, scientists, doctors, academics, or businesspeople. As parents, they will be extremely strict and rabidly thrifty. (“Don’t throw out those leftovers! Why are you using so much dishwasher liquid?You don’t need a beauty salon—I can cut your hair even nicer.”) They will invest in real estate. They will not drink much. Everything they do and earn will go toward their children’s education and future. • The next generation (mine), the first to be born in America, will typically be high-achieving. They will usually play the piano and/or violin.They will attend an Ivy League or Top Ten university. They will tend to be professionals—lawyers, doctors, bankers, television anchors—and surpass their parents in income, but that’s partly because they started off with more money and because their parents invested so much in them. They will be less frugal than their parents. They will enjoy cocktails. If they are female, they will often marry a white person. Whether male or female, they will not be as strict with their children as their parents were with them. • The next generation (Sophia and Lulu’s) is the one I spend nights lying awake worrying about. Because of the hard work of their parents and grandparents, this generation will be born into the great comforts of the upper middle class. Even as children they will own many hardcover books (an almost criminal luxury from the point of view of immigrant parents). They will have wealthy friends who get paid for B-pluses.They may or may not attend private schools, but in either case they will expect expensive, brand-name clothes. Finally and most problematically, they will feel that they have individual rights guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution and therefore be much more likely to disobey their parents and ignore career advice. In short, all factors point to this generation
Amy Chua (Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother)
From his beach bag the man took an old penknife with a red handle and began to etch the signs of the letters onto nice flat pebbles. At the same time, he spoke to Mondo about everything there was in the letters, about everything you could see in them when you looked and when you listened. He spoke about A, which is like a big fly with its wings pulled back; about B, which is funny, with its two tummies; or C and D, which are like the moon, a crescent moon or a half-full moon; and then there was O, which was the full moon in the black sky. H is high, a ladder to climb up trees or to reach the roofs of houses; E and F look like a rake and a shovel; and G is like a fat man sitting in an armchair. I dances on tiptoes, with a little head popping up each time it bounces, whereas J likes to swing. K is broken like an old man, R takes big strides like a soldier, and Y stands tall, its arms up in the air, and it shouts: help! L is a tree on the river's edge, M is a mountain, N is for names, and people waving their hands, P is asleep on one paw, and Q is sitting on its tail; S is always a snake, Z is always a bolt of lightning, T is beautiful, like the mast on a ship, U is like a vase, V and W are birds, birds in flight; and X is a cross to help you remember.
J.M.G. Le Clézio (Mondo et autres histoires)
Naomi Wolfe, journalist and author of The Beauty Myth, writes, “A culture fixated on female thinness is not an obsession about female beauty but an obsession about female obedience. Dieting is the most potent political sedative in history. A quietly mad population is a tractable one.”31 Wolfe strategically illustrates how body-shame social messaging is used as a means of controlling and centralizing political power. We need look no further than the 2016 U.S. presidential election to see Wolfe’s thesis in action. Candidate Hillary Clinton was exhaustingly scrutinized about her aesthetic presentation. Outfits, makeup, hairstyles were all fodder for the twenty-four-hour news cycle. Even the pro-Hillary, hundred-thousand-plus-member Facebook group Pantsuit Nation chose her penchant for eschewing skirts and dresses as the name of their collective, inadvertently directing public focus to her physical appearance rather than her decades of political experience.
Sonya Renee Taylor (The Body Is Not an Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love)
Where rational thought is overcome by the strength of physical attraction. This feeling will draw words from the pen that one doesn't even know exist. This feeling will make one combine words that don't go 2gether but just sound so good U not only read them, U can smell them. (Reflecting on that straight up animal lust feeling)
Prince (The Beautiful Ones)
Some guns were fired to give notice that the departure of the balloon was near. ... Means were used, I am told, to prevent the great balloon's rising so high as might endanger its bursting. Several bags of sand were taken on board before the cord that held it down was cut, and the whole weight being then too much to be lifted, such a quantity was discharged as would permit its rising slowly. Thus it would sooner arrive at that region where it would be in equilibrio with the surrounding air, and by discharging more sand afterwards, it might go higher if desired. Between one and two o'clock, all eyes were gratified with seeing it rise majestically from above the trees, and ascend gradually above the buildings, a most beautiful spectacle. When it was about two hundred feet high, the brave adventurers held out and waved a little white pennant, on both sides of their car, to salute the spectators, who returned loud claps of applause. The wind was very little, so that the object though moving to the northward, continued long in view; and it was a great while before the admiring people began to disperse. The persons embarked were Mr. Charles, professor of experimental philosophy, and a zealous promoter of that science; and one of the Messrs Robert, the very ingenious constructors of the machine. {While U.S. ambassador to France, writing about witnessing, from his carriage outside the garden of Tuileries, Paris, the first manned balloon ascent using hydrogen gas by Jacques Charles on the afternoon of 1 Dec 1783. A few days earlier, he had watched the first manned ascent in Montgolfier's hot-air balloon, on 21 Nov 1783.}
Benjamin Franklin (Writings: The Autobiography / Poor Richard’s Almanack / Bagatelles, Pamphlets, Essays & Letters)
To P.J. (2 yrs old who sed write a poem for me in Portland, Oregon) if i cud ever write a poem as beautiful as u little 2/yr/old/brotha, I wud laugh, jump, leap up and touch the stars cuz u be the poem i try for each time i pick up a pen and paper. u. and Morani and Mungu be our blue/blk/stars that will shine on our lives and makes us finally BE. if i cud ever write a poem as beautiful as u, little 2/yr/old/brotha, poetry wud go out of bizness.
Sonia Sanchez
The North Korean capital, Pyongyang, is a city consecrated to the worship of a father-son dynasty. (I came to think of them, with their nuclear-family implications, as 'Fat Man and Little Boy.') And a river runs through it. And on this river, the Taedong River, is moored the only American naval vessel in captivity. It was in January 1968 that the U.S.S. Pueblo strayed into North Korean waters, and was boarded and captured. One sailor was killed; the rest were held for nearly a year before being released. I looked over the spy ship, its radio antennae and surveillance equipment still intact, and found photographs of the captain and crew with their hands on their heads in gestures of abject surrender. Copies of their groveling 'confessions,' written in tremulous script, were also on show. So was a humiliating document from the United States government, admitting wrongdoing in the penetration of North Korean waters and petitioning the 'D.P.R.K.' (Democratic People's Republic of Korea) for 'lenience.' Kim Il Sung ('Fat Man') was eventually lenient about the men, but not about the ship. Madeleine Albright didn't ask to see the vessel on her visit last October, during which she described the gruesome, depopulated vistas of Pyongyang as 'beautiful.' As I got back onto the wharf, I noticed a refreshment cart, staffed by two women under a frayed umbrella. It didn't look like much—one of its three wheels was missing and a piece of brick was propping it up—but it was the only such cart I'd see. What toothsome local snacks might the ladies be offering? The choices turned out to be slices of dry bread and cups of warm water. Nor did Madeleine Albright visit the absurdly misnamed 'Demilitarized Zone,' one of the most heavily militarized strips of land on earth. Across the waist of the Korean peninsula lies a wasteland, roughly following the 38th parallel, and packed with a titanic concentration of potential violence. It is four kilometers wide (I have now looked apprehensively at it from both sides) and very near to the capital cities of both North and South. On the day I spent on the northern side, I met a group of aging Chinese veterans, all from Szechuan, touring the old battlefields and reliving a war they helped North Korea nearly win (China sacrificed perhaps a million soldiers in that campaign, including Mao Anying, son of Mao himself). Across the frontier are 37,000 United States soldiers. Their arsenal, which has included undeclared nuclear weapons, is the reason given by Washington for its refusal to sign the land-mines treaty. In August 1976, U.S. officers entered the neutral zone to trim a tree that was obscuring the view of an observation post. A posse of North Koreans came after them, and one, seizing the ax with which the trimming was to be done, hacked two U.S. servicemen to death with it. I visited the ax also; it's proudly displayed in a glass case on the North Korean side.
Christopher Hitchens (Love, Poverty, and War: Journeys and Essays)
they say "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder " , and eyes is the door of the heart if you can see the beauty inside everything and everyone you're dealing with, regardless how they look from the outside , then you really have a beautiful heart that u should be proud of ! if you only see the outer beauty , this is a serious problem because by time this kind of beauty fades away and all you have left is reality ! the beauty we see in others is actually a reflection of our own beauty
...girl reached across her desk and pulled the computer keyboard over. “What’s his name?” she said. “Crowley,” Julianna said, surprised. “Christopher Wayne Crowley.” “I shouldn’t do this.” The girl looked back up at Genevieve and laughed. “But fuck it, right?” Genevieve's disappearance from the state fair had been news for about a day. Okay, maybe for a couple of weeks. She was beautiful—the Daily Oklahoman ran her picture with every story, a photo of her from the previous year’s U. S. Grant High School yearbook. Genevieve had thought the photo...
Lou Berney (The Long and Faraway Gone)
Attar knew—like Sana'i and Rumi—that this constant movement is not peculiar to the human soul; it goes through the whole created world (U 63). Endless periods of development are necessary before the one beautiful flower, the one Perfect Man, can come into existence—periods marked by the death and annihilation of hundreds of thousands of lower existences, which, in turn, may one day reach the state from which their upward movement can start (cf. MT 234), for Everyone's journey is toward his perfection— Everyone's proximity is according to his "state." (MT 232)
Annemarie Schimmel (Mystical Dimensions of Islam)
WHEN I INTERVIEWED ISABELLE HUPPERT, I mentioned in passing that she has the strongest body of work of any actress in the world. She insisted otherwise, and I insisted back, and she denied it again, and I conceded that maybe, just maybe, Meryl Streep might be tied with her in the magnificent résumé department. To which Huppert said something quite interesting: "You know, it’s more again a symptom—I mean it really tells something about our relationship to cinema in Europe, which is slightly different [than here in the U.S.]. Here it seems like, you reach a certain point, actresses work less. And maybe also we have this idea to make movies more cultural than entertaining, a more existential thing than here. And so together it makes [for] a different relation to our craft."
Mick LaSalle (The Beauty of the Real: What Hollywood Can Learn from Contemporary French Actresses)
Dear father, It's been five years today, but makes no difference! Not a day goes by without me remembering your pure green eyes, the tone of your voice singing In Adighabza, or your poems scattered all around the house. Dear father, from you I have learned that being a girl doesn't mean that I can't achieve my dreams, no matter how crazy or un-urban they might seem. That you raised me with the utmost of ethics and morals and the hell with this cocooned society, if it doesn't respect the right to ask and learn and be, just because I'm a girl. Dear father, from you I have learned to respect all mankind, and just because you descend from a certain blood or ethnicity, it doesn't make you better than anybody else. It's you, and only you, your actions, your thoughts, your achievements, are what differentiates you from everybody else. At the same time, thank you for teaching me to respect and value where I came from, for actually taking me to my hometown Goboqay, for teaching me about my family tree, how my ancestors worked hard and fought for me to be where I am right now, and to continue on with the legacy and make them all proud. Dear father, from you and mom, I have learned to speak in my mother tongue. A gift so precious, that I have already made a promise to do the same for my unborn children. Dear father, from you I have learned to be content, to fear Allah, to be thankful for all that I have, and no matter what, never loose faith, as it's the only path to solace. Dear father, from you I have learned that if a person wants to love you, then let them, and if they hurt you, be strong and stand your ground. People will respect you only if you respect yourself. Dear father, I'm pretty sure that you are proud of me, my sisters and our dear dear Mom. You have a beautiful grand daughter now and a son in-law better than any brother I would have ever asked for. Till we meet again, Shu wasltha'3u. الله يرحمك يا غالي. (الفاتحة) على روحك الطاهرة.
Larissa Qat
TO MY BELOVED, Its neither a piece of paper nor a letter, rather it's my small heart which I'm gifting it to you darling.It seems time stood still without ur presence around me. My days and nights have gone worthless. All my heart could do is to recall the memories of time which we have spend together. My heart gets rejoiced whenever your beautiful face comes before my eyes. Your mesmerizing eyes drive me to another world. Your flowing hair looks tantalizing and your rosy lips seems to be meant only for saying lovely words. While having a cup of coffee yesterday, numerous moments striked my heart. Our first meeting, when you were looking like a fairy in white salwar-suit. Still fresh in my mind, your pretty smile and bowing your head down to laugh with your hand on your lips. I confess that your every action was stealing my heart and I couldn't withdraw myself from lookig you. The gift you presented me on my birthday gives me a sigh of relief that you are always there with me. Sweetheart, In the classroom, I cracked useless jokes and PJ's just to see your charming smile. Kept gazing your lips, just to heat some golden words. You had stolen my heart. Dedicated '' I don't know when and how you arrived in my life, Don't know when my heart star beating for you, day n night.... My eyes kept staring the window pane, Wishing one day u'll come in my lane.... Darling you're the only one whom I admire, It's you whom my heart desperately desires... Being with you is my only need, You are now the medicine of my heartbeat... I Craved your name on my heart, The day when I decided not to loose you ever, And I promise you sweetheart that, I love you & i'll love you for ever, ever n ever...... It's true my baby that, i love you like anything. Miss you from very morning 2 the night. MY senses are active to feel you, to hear you, to see you, to taste every sorrow and happiness of your life. Jaana, get embedded in me, in my soul so that i can live with you, for you........ Dying to have your reply..... Truly Your's PK
Prabhat Kumar
products.” The Global Positioning System (GPS) uses spread spectrum. So does the U.S. military’s $41 billion MILSATCOM satellite communications network. Wireless local area networks (wLANs) use spread spectrum, as do wireless cash registers, bar-code readers, restaurant menu pads, and home control systems. So does Qualcomm’s Omni-TRACS mobile information system for commercial trucking fleets. So do unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), electronic automotive subsystems, aerial and maritime mobile broadband, wireless access points, digital watermarking, and much more. A study done for Microsoft in 2009 estimated the minimum economic value of spread-spectrum Wi-Fi in homes and hospitals and RFID tags in clothing retail outlets in the U.S. as $16–$37 billion per year. These uses, the study notes, “only account for 15% of the total projected market for unlicensed [spectrum] chipsets in 2014, and therefore significantly underestimates the total value being generated in unlicensed usage over this time period.” A market of which 15 percent is $25 billion would be a $166 billion market.
Richard Rhodes (Hedy's Folly: The Life and Breakthrough Inventions of Hedy Lamarr, the Most Beautiful Woman in the World)
What characterizes an addiction?” asks the spiritual teacher Eckhart Tolle. “Quite simply this: you no longer feel that you have the power to stop. It seems stronger than you. It also gives you a false sense of pleasure, pleasure that invariably turns into pain.” Addiction cuts large swaths across our culture. Many of us are burdened with compulsive behaviours that harm us and others, behaviours whose toxicity we fail to acknowledge or feel powerless to stop. Many people are addicted to accumulating wealth; for others the compulsive pull is power. Men and women become addicted to consumerism, status, shopping or fetishized relationships, not to mention the obvious and widespread addictions such as gambling, sex, junk food and the cult of the “young” body image. The following report from the Guardian Weekly speaks for itself: Americans now [2006] spend an alarming $15 billion a year on cosmetic surgery in a beautification frenzy that would be frowned upon if there was anyone left in the U.S. who could actually frown with their Botox-frozen faces. The sum is double Malawi’s gross domestic product and more than twice what America has contributed to AIDS programs in the past decade. Demand has exploded to produce a new generation of obsessives, or “beauty junkies.
Gabor Maté (In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Close Encounters with Addiction)
The billboards ruin everything. The historical flavor, the old-time architecture, even the beauty of the wooded hillside—all are sacrificed. Pole-lines and wires may be accepted, like fences, as part of the basic American landscape. They do their work without striving to be conspicuous, and often their not-ungraceful curves add a touch of interest, an intricacy of pattern, even some beauty. Billboards are different. . . . billboards blast themselves into the viewer's consciousness. . . . some of the smaller billboards—those advertising local hotels, service-stations, or small industries—seem to have a certain rooting in the soil, and are often modest and comparatively harmonious to the setting. The large billboards—owned by special companies, usually advertising the products of mass-production—are always placed in the most conspicuous spots, and have designs and colors carefully chosen to clash with the background. One feels a difference between a home-produced: "Stop at Joe's Service Station for Gas—Two Miles," or "The Liberty Café—Short Orders at All Hours—Give Us a Try!" and some gigantic rectangle advertising tires or beer. Large billboards are now springing up along U. S. 40 even in the vastnesses of the Nevada sagebrush country. They are an abomination! Personally, I try to buy as little as possible of anything that is so advertised.
George R. Stewart (U.S. 40: Cross Section of the United States of America)
God took His time to carve out the perfect place, Sam remembered her grandma always saying. Indeed, the hilltop was akin to a real cherry on top of a stunningly picturesque sundae. Bayview Point was home to two of northern Michigan's most popular orchards and tourist stops: Very Cherry Orchards and her family's Orchard and Pie Pantry. The first half of the hill was dense with rows of tart cherry trees, and the limbs of the small, bushy trees were bursting with cherries, red arms waving at Sam as if to greet her home. In the spring, these trees were filled with white blossoms that slowly turned as pink as a perfect rosé, their beauty so tender that it used to make Sam's heart ache when she would run through the orchards as part of her high school cross-country training. Often, when Sam ran, the spring winds would tear at the tender flowers and make it look as though it were snowing in the midst of a beautiful warm day. Like every good native, Sam knew cherries had a long history in northern Michigan. French settlers had cherry trees in their gardens, and a missionary planted the very first cherry trees on Old Mission Peninsula. Very Cherry Orchards grew nearly 100 acres of Montmorency tart cherries in addition to Balaton cherries, black sweet cherries, plums, and nectarines. They sold their fruit to U-Pickers as well as large companies that made pies, but they had also become famous for their tart cherry juice concentrate, now sold at grocery and health food stores across the United States. People loved it for its natural health benefits, rich in antioxidants.
Viola Shipman (The Recipe Box)
In my own mind I find that I can also classify highways advantageously as dominating, equal, or dominated. A dominating highway is one from which, as you drive along it, you are more conscious of the highway than of the country through which you are passing. Six-lane highways, and four-lane highways, particularly in flat country, give this impression. You see the highway itself, the traffic upon it, and the life that has grown up along it and is dependent upon it—all the world of service-stations and garages and restaurants and motor-courts. To many people, of whom I am one, parkways produce the same effect. Although esthetically beautiful, the artificial landscape on both sides of the parkway becomes part of the road itself, and is divorced from the countryside and from reality. The parkway by-passes towns, and therefore the motorist has no sense of actuality. A parkway is excellent at providing unimpeded transportation, and for allowing the city-dweller his escape, but when you drive along the parkway, you are not seeing the real United States of America. The dominated highway, on the contrary, is one which seems to be oppressed and to lose its own identity because of the surroundings through which it is passing. Highways are dominated when they pass along city streets. There is too much close by on either hand. There is too much local traffic that has not the slightest concern with the farther reaches of the highway. On the other hand, highways may be dominated when they are comparatively small roads passing through high mountains or vast plains. Again the highway becomes insignificant, and one's interest is pulled outward, away from it. In between, lies the equal highway, that one which seems to be an intimate and integral part of the countryside through which it is passing. On such a road there is a division of interest between one's focus upon the highway and its margin and upon the country back from the highway. . . .
George R. Stewart (U.S. 40: Cross Section of the United States of America)
The people are pieces of software called avatars. They are the audiovisual bodies that people use to communicate with each other in the Metaverse. Hiro's avatar is now on the Street, too, and if the couples coming off the monorail look over in his direction, they can see him, just as he's seeing them. They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L.A. and the four teenagers probably on a couch in a suburb of Chicago, each with their own laptop. But they probably won't talk to each other, any more than they would in Reality. These are nice kids, and they don't want to talk to a solitary crossbreed with a slick custom avatar who's packing a couple of swords. Your avatar can look any way you want it to, up to the limitations of your equipment. If you're ugly, you can make your avatar beautiful. If you've just gotten out of bed, your avatar can still be wearing beautiful clothes and professionally applied makeup. You can look like a gorilla or a dragon or a giant talking penis in the Metaverse. Spend five minutes walking down the Street and you will see all of these. Hiro's avatar just looks like Hiro, with the difference that no matter what Hiro is wearing in Reality, his avatar always wears a black leather kimono. Most hacker types don't go in for garish avatars, because they know that it takes a lot more sophistication to render a realistic human face than a talking penis. Kind of the way people who really know clothing can appreciate the fine details that separate a cheap gray wool suit from an expensive hand-tailored gray wool suit. You can't just materialize anywhere in the Metaverse, like Captain Kirk beaming down from on high. This would be confusing and irritating to the people around you. It would break the metaphor. Materializing out of nowhere (or vanishing back into Reality) is considered to be a private function best done in the confines of your own House. Most avatars nowadays are anatomically correct, and naked as a babe when they are first created, so in any case, you have to make yourself decent before you emerge onto the Street. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care.
Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash)
TARYN GRANT, DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE for the U.S. Senate, suffered from narcissistic personality disorder, or so she’d been told by a psychologist in her third year at the Wharton School. He’d added, “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, as long as you don’t go into a life of crime. Half the people here are narcissists. The other half are psychopaths. Well, except for Roland Shafer. He’s normal enough.” Taryn didn’t know Roland Shafer, but all these years later, she sometimes thought about him, and wondered what happened to him, being . . . “normal.” The shrink had explained the disorder to her, in sketchy terms, perhaps trying to be kind. When she left his office, she’d gone straight to the library and looked it up, because she knew in her heart that she was far too perfect to have any kind of disorder. •   •   • NARCISSISTIC PERSONALITY DISORDER: Has excessive feelings of self-importance. Reacts to criticism with rage. Takes advantage of other people. Disregards the feelings of others. Preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, beauty, and intelligence. •   •   • EXCESSIVE FEELINGS OF SELF-IMPORTANCE? Did that idiot shrink know she’d inherit the better part of a billion dollars, that she already had enough money to buy an entire industry? She was important. Reacts to criticism with rage? Well, what do you do when you’re mistreated? Shy away from conflict and go snuffle into a Kleenex? Hell no: you get up in their face, straighten them out. Takes advantage of other people? You don’t get anywhere in this world by being a cupcake, cupcake. Disregards the feelings of others? Look: half the people in the world were below average, and “average” isn’t anything to brag about. We should pay attention to the dumbasses in life? How about, “Preoccupied with fantasies of success, power, beauty, and intelligence”? Hey, had he taken a good look at her and her CV? She was in the running for class valedictorian; she looked like Marilyn Monroe, without the black spot on her cheek; and she had, at age twenty-two, thirty million dollars of her own, with twenty or thirty times more than that, yet to come. What fantasies? Welcome to my world, bub. •   •   • THAT HAD BEEN more than a decade ago.
John Sandford (Silken Prey (Lucas Davenport #23))
If these avatars were real people in a real street, Hiro wouldn't be able to reach the entrance. It's way too crowded. But the computer system that operates the Street has better things to do than to monitor every single one of the millions of people there, trying to prevent them from running into each other. It doesn't bother trying to solve this incredibly difficult problem. On the Street, avatars just walk right through each other. So when Hiro cuts through the crowd, headed for the entrance, he really is cutting through the crowd. When things get this jammed together, the computer simplifies things by drawing all of the avatars ghostly and translucent so you can see where you're going. Hiro appears solid to himself, but everyone else looks like a ghost. He walks through the crowd as if it's a fogbank, clearly seeing The Black Sun in front of him. He steps over the property line, and he's in the doorway. And in that instant he becomes solid and visible to all the avatars milling outside. As one, they all begin screaming. Not that they have any idea who the hell he is -- Hiro is just a starving CIC stringer who lives in a U-Stor-It by the airport. But in the entire world there are only a couple of thousand people who can step over the line into The Black Sun. He turns and looks back at ten thousand shrieking groupies. Now that he's all by himself in the entryway, no longer immersed in a flood of avatars, he can see all of the people in the front row of the crowd with perfect clarity. They are all done up in their wildest and fanciest avatars, hoping that Da5id -- The Black Sun's owner and hacker-in-chief -- will invite them inside. They flick and merge together into a hysterical wall. Stunningly beautiful women, computer-airbrushed and retouched at seventy-two frames a second, like Playboy pinups turned three-dimensional -- these are would-be actresses hoping to be discovered. Wild-looking abstracts, tornadoes of gyrating light-hackers who are hoping that Da5id will notice their talent, invite them inside, give them a job. A liberal sprinkling of black-and-white people -- persons who are accessing the Metaverse through cheap public terminals, and who are rendered in jerky, grainy black and white. A lot of these are run-of-the-mill psycho fans, devoted to the fantasy of stabbing some particular actress to death; they can't even get close in Reality, so they goggle into the Metaverse to stalk their prey. There are would-be rock stars done up in laser light, as though they just stepped off the concert stage, and the avatars of Nipponese businessmen, exquisitely rendered by their fancy equipment, but utterly reserved and boring in their suits.
Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash)
I got your flowers. They’re beautiful, thank you.” A gorgeous riot of Gerber daisies and lilies in a rainbow of reds, pinks, yellows and oranges. “Welcome. Bet Duncan loved sending one of his guys out to pick them up for me.” She could hear the smile in his voice, imagined the devilish twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, he did. Said it’s probably the first time in the history of WITSEC that a U.S. Marshal delivered flowers to one of their witnesses.” A low chuckle. “Well, this was a special circumstance, so they helped me out.” “I loved the card you sent with them the best though.” Proud of you. Give ‘em hell tomorrow. He’d signed it Nathan rather than Nate, which had made her smile. “I had no idea you were romantic,” she continued. “All these interesting things I’m learning about you.” She hadn’t been able to wipe the silly smile off her face after one of the security team members had knocked on her door and handed them to her with a goofy smile and a, “special delivery”. “Baby, you haven’t seen anything yet. When the trial’s done you’re gonna get all the romance you can handle, and then some.” “Really?” Now that was something for a girl to look forward to, and it sure as hell did the trick in taking her mind off her worries. “Well I’m all intrigued, because it’s been forever since I was romanced. What do you have in mind? Candlelit dinners? Going to the movies? Long walks? Lazy afternoon picnics?” “Not gonna give away my hand this early on, but I’ll take those into consideration.” “And what’s the key to your heart, by the way? I mean, other than the thing I did to you this morning.” “What thing is that? Refresh my memory,” he said, a teasing note in his voice. She smiled, enjoying the light banter. It felt good to let her worry about tomorrow go and focus on what she had to look forward to when this was all done. Being with him again, seeing her family, getting back to her life. A life that would hopefully include Nathan in a romantic capacity. “Waking you up with my mouth.” He gave a low groan. “I loved every second of it. But think simpler.” Simpler than sex? For a guy like him? “Food, then. I bet you’re a sucker for a home-cooked meal. Am I right?” He chuckled. “That works too, but it’s still not the key.” “Then what?” “You.” She blinked, her heart squeezing at the conviction behind his answer. “Me?” “Yeah, just you. And maybe bacon,” he added, a smile in his voice. He was so freaking adorable. “So you’re saying if I made and served you a BLT, you’d be putty in my hands?” Seemed hard to imagine, but okay. A masculine rumble filled her ears. “God, yeah.” She couldn’t help the sappy smile that spread across her face. “Wow, you are easy. And I can definitely arrange that.” “I can hardly wait. Will you serve it to me naked? Or maybe wearing just a frilly little apron and heels?” She smothered a laugh, but a clear image of her doing just that popped into her head, serving him the sandwich in that sexy outfit while watching his eyes go all heated. “Depends on how good you are.” “Oh, baby, I’ll be so good to you, you have no idea.
Kaylea Cross (Avenged (Hostage Rescue Team #5))
beauty when you have it dont waste it all because if u wasted you never get it back
jayline moreno
A, Black, E, white, I red, U green, O blue: vowels, Someday I shall tell of your mysterious births: A, black velvety corset of dazzling flies Buzzing around cruel smells, Gulfs of shadow; E, white innocence of vapors and of tents, Spears of proud glaciers, white kings, shivers of Queen Anne's lace; I, purples, spitting blood, smile of beautiful lips In anger or in drunkin penitence; U, waves, divine shudderings of green seas, The calm of pastures dotted with animals, the pece of furrows Which alchemy prints on wide, studious foreheads; O, sublime Bugle full of strange piercing so und, Silences crossed by Worlds nad by Angels: - O the Omega, the violet ray of her Eyes!
Arthur Rimbaud
LIFE" wHat is tHIs? I tHInk itz n0tHIng n0thIng n0thIng I mEt maNy p30pLe in mY LiFe...buT 0nE daY AccIdentLy G0D haVe sh0wn mE a beAutIfuL m0vemEnt buT I waX n0t awAre ab0uT tHIs dat itZ m0rE pAinFuLL . I Can't eXpLaIn in Few W0rdZ .In sh0rt juS waNa saY L0st mY eVerytHing buT aLL g0ex In vAin.....In 0ther xEnce My Life br0keD mE in unLimItED piceS.....buT wHen these past m0vemEnts runz In mY mInd jus FeeLing huRteD & i can't xpLain dat wat i feeL ...
Malik Faisal
A Poet wrote this poem for me in 2017. Whenever I read this, I feel happy that I could touch someone deeply! "It has not been long since he came to my life He came like a soft wind He made me feel like a king He showed me who i am He made me believe i can No not just a simple man A man who is so deep Emotions feelings are in a heap His mighty head high to keep Though strong and hard His heart is made of gold Love kindness are decorated in folds He holds the capacity of changing others Making all the sisters and brothers Feel that they are worthy His words are so simple yet strong Commanding yet soft High pitched yet so serene He smiles and makes the world smile He feels the unfelt He touches the untouched He sees the unseen He takes care of all without showing He shows without pretending His eyes sparkel with light He is fearless no fright He lightens up the room when he enters And when he speaks is like a melodious symphony That touch you deep down He will inspire you He will teach you He will lend u a hand And make u stand He will be the eye for you to see Thorough ur own heart He never hopes bad for others Neither does he bothers About the negetivies He is the positive man The mighty happy soul And if i talk about his soul It the most beautiful soul How can anyone feel so much? And he has the capability of being himself No matter what He takes good care of others And makes sure he is fit too He wants smile in evryones faces And he will make you smile You meet him once And here you go! You have a changed life Do you kno who the magic man is ? He is the passionate writer
Poem 9670 for Avijeet Das
In life u come to a point where there r two ways one is to take risk and other is to giveup.... the beauty in taking risk is at leat u have hope
Muneeb wani
The divorce was a blow to Marjorie's pride from which she would never fully recover. Despite her beauty, brains, and wealth, Marjorie never had a marriage that remained happy for very long. Once, General Foods chairman Clare Francis asked her about them outright. 'Marjorie, you could run General Motors. you could run U.S. Steel. You're the smartest woman I know.But why do you have so much trouble with husbands? 'Clare, I honestly don't know. Ain't it hell?'Marjorie said and shrugged her shoulders.
Nancy Rubin Stuart (American Empress: The Life and Times of Marjorie Merriweather Post)
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In 1863, as Havana continued to grow, the need for expansion prompted the removal of the city walls. The Ten Years’ War ended with a cease fire from Spain. However, it was followed by the Cuban War of Independence, which lasted from 1895 until 1898 and prompted intervention by the United States. The American occupation of Cuba lasted until 1902. After Cuban Independence came into being, another period of expansion in Havana followed, leading to the construction of beautiful apartment buildings for the new middle class and mansions for the wealthy. During the 1920’s, Cuba developed the largest middle class per total population in all of Latin America, necessitating additional accommodations and amenities in the capital city. As ships and airplanes provided reliable transportation, visitors saw Havana as a refuge from the colder cities in the North. To accommodate the tourists, luxury hotels, including the Hotel Nacional and the Habana Riviera, were built. In the 1950’s gambling and prostitution became widespread and the city became the new playground of the Americas, bringing in more income than Las Vegas. Now that Cuba senses an end to the embargo and hopes to cultivate a new relationship with the United States, construction in Havana has taken on a new sense of urgency. Expecting that Havana will once again become a tourist destination, the French construction group “Bouygues” is busy building Havana's newest luxury hotel. This past June Starwood’s mid-market Four Points Havana, became the first U.S. hotel, owned by Marriott, to open in Cuba. The historic Manzana de Gómez building which was once Cuba's first European-style shopping arcade has now been transformed into the Swiss based Manzana Kempinski, Gran Hotel, La Habana. It has now become Cuba's first new 5-Star Hotel! Spanish resort hotels dot the beaches east of Havana and China is expected to build 108,000 new hotel rooms for the largest tourist facility in the Caribbean. On the other end of the spectrum is the 14 room Hotel Terral whch has a prime spot on the Malecón.
Hank Bracker
A Beautiful verse takes birth when "U"n"I" VERSE.
Rajesh Walecha
And so,” the Colonel was saying, “the Mandate was handed over to the U.N. in May, and we were all out of the country by July 1st. To my mind we should have stayed. The whole thing has been a bloody nonsense ever since. No one will ever settle down in this part of the world, and they’ll still be fighting over Jerusalem when you and I have been in our graves for years. Beautiful spot, you know, from this distance. Used to be pretty scruffy inside the Old City.
Daphne du Maurier (Don't Look Now and Other Stories)
In the present situation of the overt Russian Orthodox Church in the U.S.S.R., which has the bishops and patriarchs and metropolitans, the leadership has to make concessions to the Soviet government. On the other hand, through making those concessions, certain churches in Moscow and Leningrad and Kiev remain open. Beautiful services are made available, the very beautiful words of the Gospels are read aloud. In these matters you have to weigh the relative advantages and disadvantages. You can't take a definitive position about it. The solace of those services is so great, the importance of those words being kept alive and in circulation is so important, that the sacrifices, the compromises that are made must be accepted. But it's a very difficult equation to work out. It's the equation with which our Lord himself left us, that we must render unto God the things that are God's and unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's. He neglected to tell us what proportion we owed, so that of course people like myself can hope to get by with offering Caesar very little. [...] The cleverness of that reply was of course that it didn't specify exactly how much was due to Caesar and how much to God. He left us to work out.
Malcolm Muggeridge (The End of Christendom)
Augustine affirms that not only the beauties of the world but also those sought by human art are ultimately derived from the divine beauty and its desirability. Nevertheless, he is constantly aware that they may be misused and become an obstacle instead of a means to God: But 1, 0 my God and my Beauty, from hence I also sing a hymn to You, and make a sacrifice of praise to my Sanctifier; because those beauties which are conveyed through the soul into cunning hands, all descend from that beauty which is above our souls, for which my soul sighs day and night. But those who fashion and seek external beauties derive thence li.e., from the ultimate Beauty] their affirmation of these things, but not the correct way of using them. Yet there It is, although they do not perceive It, so that they might not wander too tar, but might preserve their strength only for You, and not waste it on pleasurable exhaustions.u
Richard Viladesau (Theological Aesthetics: God in Imagination, Beauty, and Art)
Critics of the U.S. Constitution say it is an instrument of class oppression – made by the rich to the disadvantage of the poor. They deny the reality of separate powers under the Constitution. For them, the inequalities of the market economy must be corrected by government intervention. A century ago Le Bon wrote of the difficulties involved in “reconciling Democratic equalization with natural inequalities.” As Le Bon pointed out, “Nature does not know such a thing as equality. She distributes unevenly genius, beauty, health, vigor, intelligence, and all the qualities which confer on their possessors a superiority over their fellows.” When a politician pretends to oppose the inequalities of nature, he proves to be a special kind of usurper – personifying arrogance in search of boundless power. Logically, the establishment of universal equality would first require the establishment of a universal tyranny (a.k.a., the dictatorship of the proletariat). A formula for doing all this was worked out in the nineteenth century, and was the program of Karl Marx. Le Bon warned that socialism might indeed “establish equality for a time by rigorously eliminating all superior individuals.” He also foresaw the decline of any nation that followed this path (i.e., see the Soviet Union). Such a society would aim at eliminating all risk, speculation and initiative. These stimulants of human activity being suppressed, no progress would be possible. According to Le Bon, “Men would merely have established that equality in poverty desired by the jealousy and envy of a host of mediocre minds.
J.R. Nyquist
Everything was beautiful until the insanity began. The CIA got into the business of altering human behavior in 1947. Project Paperclip, an arrangement made by CIA Director Allen Dulles and Richard Helms, brought 1,000 Nazi specialists and their families to the United States. They were employed by military and civilian institutions. Some Nazi doctors were brought to our hospitals and colleges to continue further experimentation on the brain. American and German scientists, working with the CIA, then the military, started developing every possible method of controlling the mind. Lysergic Acid Diethylmide, LSD, was discovered at the Sandoz Laboratories, Basel, Switzerland, in 1939 by Albert Hoffman. This LSD was pure. No other ingredients were added. The U.S. Army became interested in LSD for interrogation purposes in 1950. After May 1956 until 1975, the U.S. Army Intelligence and the U.S. Chemical Corps experimented with hallucinogenic drugs. The CIA and Army spent $26,501,446 “testing” LSD, code-named EA 1729, and other chemical agents. Contracts went out to 48 different institutions for testing. The CIA was part of these projects. They concealed their participation by contracting to various colleges, hospitals, prisons, mental hospitals and private foundations. The LSD I will refer to is the same type that the CIA tested. We shall be speaking of CIA-LSD, not pure LSD. Government agents had the ability to induce permanent insanity, identical to schizophrenia, without physician or family knowing what happened to the victim.
Mae Brussell (The Essential Mae Brussell: Investigations of Fascism in America)
축구언오버 DU-55.COM 추천코드:ASAS7 첫충10%-매충5% 단폴&크로스가능/네임드사다리1.95 홀짝-좌우-출줄/달팽이-로하이/매쿼실시간/국.해외스타리그&LOL/각종스폐셜등. 많은 이벤트로 여러분을 맞이하고 있으니 구경오셔서 둘러보고 가세요. Have nothing in your houses that u do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. — William Morris 유용하다거나 아름답다고 생각되지 않는 물건은 집 안에 두지마라
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13[^][†] Behold,  b my servant shall act wisely; [2]         he shall be high and lifted up,         and shall be exalted.     14[†] As many were astonished at you—          c his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance,         and his form beyond that of the children of mankind—     15[^] so  d shall he sprinkle [3] many nations;          e kings shall shut their mouths because of him;      f for that which has not been told them they see,         and that which they have not heard they understand. ISAIAH      53 [†]  g Who has believed what he has heard from us? [1]         And to whom has  h the arm of the LORD been revealed?     2[†] For he grew up before him like a young plant,          i and like a root out of dry ground;      j he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,         and no beauty that we should desire him.     3[†]  k He was despised and rejected [2] by men;         a man of sorrows, [3] and acquainted with [4] grief; [5]     and as one from whom men hide their faces [6]         he was despised, and  l we esteemed him not.     4[†]  m Surely he has borne our griefs         and carried our sorrows;     yet we esteemed him stricken,          n smitten by God, and afflicted.     5[^][†]  o But he was pierced for our transgressions;         he was crushed for our iniquities;     upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,          p and with his wounds we are healed.     6[†]  q All we like sheep have gone astray;         we have turned—every one—to his own way;      r and the LORD has laid on him         the iniquity of us all.     7[†] He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,          s yet he opened not his mouth;      t like a  u lamb that is led to the slaughter,         and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,         so he opened not his mouth.     8[†] By oppression and judgment he was taken away;         and as for his generation,  v who considered     that he was cut off out of the land of the living,         stricken for the transgression of my people?     9[^][†] And they made his grave with the wicked          w and with a rich man in his death,     although  x he had done no violence,         and there was no deceit in his mouth.     10[†] Yet  y it was the will of the LORD to crush him;         he has put him to grief; [7]      z when his soul makes [8] an offering for guilt,         he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;      a the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand.     11[^][†] Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see [9] and be satisfied;     by his knowledge shall  b the righteous one, my servant,          c make many to be accounted righteous,          d and he shall bear their iniquities.     12[†]  e Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, [10]          f and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, [11]     because he poured out his soul to death         and was numbered with the transgressors;      g yet he bore the sin of many,         and makes intercession for the transgressors.
Anonymous (ESV Study Bible)
Quotes By Transcendologist Kurt Kawohl 1941 - If the medieval practices and the medieval beliefs of Christianity, Judaism and Islam that are based on superstitions were eliminated, then we could start building a rational and logical belief system that is based on truth and an understanding of spirituality. This is the value of truthfulness and rationality. The goals of ALL religions are the same; a deserved, appropriate, just finale. God is the rational Purity that does not require servitude, ritualistic prayers or a forced slavery in order for the soul to be a part of that Purity for eternity. God is spiritual, the progressive and accumulative spiritual intelligence of all the righteous souls who have passed into the spiritual realm. God does not and never has meddled in the tangible universe. It is of no importance during our physical life whether God exists or not if one so chooses. Whether or not one believes in a spirit or God really makes no difference to God. Righteous living will determine the continuance and destiny of our spirit/soul. Abraham, Moses, Noah, Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, Krishna, Bahá'u'lláh, Zoroaster, Ahmad, Nanak and many others of various faiths are believed to have achieved spiritual enlightenment by mastering the art of spiritual transcendence. Everything in the universe follows the universal laws which separate the physical and the spiritual existence. Energy is power, vigor, liveliness, intensity. It is a measurable quantity, without reference to its nature or source. Energy, or life is a fundamental attribute and function of the universe. Our bodies build up and harness a minute amount of spiritual energy that is transferred into the spiritual dimension upon our death. Then this spiritual energy is limitless because it lacks resistance and this energy can assimilate as a unity or be separate and individual. It is this spiritual energy that is God. It is a composition of the spiritual intellect of the universe, of every soul that has passed from the physical universe into the spiritual universe. It can create a spiritual existence of beauty that is beyond the imagination…my spirit has experienced it.
Kurt Kawohl
Ništa u stvarnom svijetu nije toliko divno koliko iluzije osobe koja gubi razum.
Haruki Murakami (What I Talk About When I Talk About Running)
… gjeta se në mendimet e ndershme është një lloj kënaqësie të cilën njerëzit e këqij nuk e kanë ndier kurrë; kjo do të thotë se njeriu është i kënaqur me vetveten. Në qoftë se mendojmë për këtë pa paragjykime, nuk di se cilën kënaqësi tjetër mund ta barazonim me këtë. Ndiej të paktën se cilido që e pëlqen sa unë vetminë duhet të frikësohet se do ta presin shqetësime. Mbase në po këto parime mund të gjendet çelësi i gjykimeve të gabuara të njerëzve mbi fitimet nga vesi dhe mbi ato nga virtyti. Ngase kënaqësia nga virtyti është plotësisht e brendshme, dhe e vëren vetëm ai që e ndien; mirëpo të gjitha fitimet nga vesi i bien në sy tjetrit, dhe vetëm ai që i ka e di sa i kushtojnë. Sikur secilit brenga e brendshme T’i lexohej e shkruar në ballë, Sa shumë veta, të cilëve u kemi lakmi, Do të na bënin të mëshiroheshim për ta! Kësaj strofe do të kishte mundur t’ia shtonte vazhdimin, i cili është i bukur, dhe nuk i përshtatet më pak subjektit: Do të shihej se armiqtë e tyre I kanë në kraharor, Dhe që të na duken fatbardhë Këtu është e tërë lumturia e tyre. ---- ... I found that there is in the meditation of honest thoughts a sort of well-being that the wicked have never known; it is to enjoy being alone with oneself. If one thought about it without preconceptions, I do not know what other pleasure one could compare to that. I sense at least that whoever loves solitude as much as I do must fear the torments it has in store for him. Perhaps one could deduce from the same principles the key to men’s false conclusions concerning the advantages of vice and of virtue. For the enjoyment of virtue is a wholly inner one and is perceptible only to him who feels it: but all the advantages of vice are visible to others, and only he who has them knows at what price. If it were possible to read internal pain in the face, how many whom we now envy would we then pity? He could have added the sequel which is very beautiful, and no less suited to the subject. One could then see that they have their enemies within their breast, and their happiness is nothing more than a happy appearance.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (Julie, or the New Heloise)
While I struggled with the menu, a handsome middle-aged guy from a nearby table came over to help. "You like sashimi? Cooked fish? Sushi?" he asked. His English was excellent. He was originally from Okinawa, he said, and a member of Rotary International. I know nothing about the Rotarians except that it's a service organization; helping befuddled foreigners order food in bars must fall within its definition of charitable service. Our service-oriented neighbor helped us order pressed sweetfish sushi, kisu fish tempura, and butter-sauteed scallops. Dredging up a vague Oishinbo memory, I also ordered broiled sweetfish, a seasonal delicacy said to taste vaguely of melon. While we started in on our sushi, our waitress- the kind of harried diner waitress who would call customers "hon" in an American restaurant- delivered a huge, beautiful steamed flounder with soy sauce, mirin, and chunks of creamy tofu. "From that guy," she said, indicating the Rotarian samaritan. We retaliated with a large bottle of beer for him and his friend (the friend came over to thank us, with much bowing). What would happen at your neighborhood bar if a couple of confused foreigners came in with a child and didn't even know how to order a drink? Would someone send them a free fish? I should add that it's not exactly common to bring children to an izakaya, but it's not frowned upon, either; also, not every izakaya is equally welcoming. Some, I have heard, are more clubby and are skeptical of nonregulars, whatever their nationality. But I didn't encounter any places like that. Oh, how was the food? So much of the seafood we eat in the U.S., even in Seattle, is previously frozen, slightly past its prime, or both. All of the seafood at our local izakaya was jump-up-and-bite-you fresh. This was most obvious in the flounder and the scallops. A mild fish, steamed, lightly seasoned, and served with tofu does not sound like a recipe for memorable eating, but it was. The butter-sauteed scallops, meanwhile, would have been at home at a New England seaside shack. They were served with a lettuce and tomato salad and a dollop of mayo. The shellfish were cooked and seasoned perfectly. I've never had a better scallop.
Matthew Amster-Burton (Pretty Good Number One: An American Family Eats Tokyo)
Along came Aldo Leopold. He was a U.S. Forest Service ranger who initially supported Pinchot’s use-oriented management of forests. A seasoned hunter, he had long believed that good game management required killing predators that preyed on deer. Then one afternoon, hunting with a friend on a mountain in New Mexico, he spied a mother wolf and her cubs, took aim, and shot them. “We reached the old wolf in time to watch a fierce green fire dying in her eyes,” Leopold wrote. “There was something new to me in those eyes—something known only to her and the mountain. I was young then, and full of trigger-itch. I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, no wolves would mean a hunter’s paradise. But after seeing the fierce green fire die, I sensed that neither the wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.” The wolf’s fierce green fire inspired Leopold to extend ethics beyond the boundaries of the human family to include the larger community of animals, plants, and even soil and water. He enshrined this natural code of conduct in his famous land ethic: “A thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability, and beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.” Carol inscribed Leopold’s land ethic in her journal when she was a teenager and has steadfastly followed it throughout her life. She believes that it changes our role from conqueror of the earth to plain member and citizen of it. Leopold led the effort to create the first federally protected wilderness area: a half million acres of the Gila National Forest in New Mexico was designated as wilderness in 1924. Leopold had laid the groundwork for a national wilderness system, interconnected oases of biodiversity permanently protected from human development.
Will Harlan (Untamed: The Wildest Woman in America and the Fight for Cumberland Island)
The talent of making commercial print valued faces, makes for the most #beautiful #gazing pages...places.
Tracey Bond (Face Booking U: A VIP Face Publishing School Imparting New Values of Fame, Frame & Fortune As VIP Social Networthing Public Relations Tools)
Being a copper I like to see the law win. I’d like to see the flashy well-dressed mugs like Eddie Mars spoiling their manicures in the rock quarry at Folsom, alongside of the poor little slum-bred hard guys that got knocked over on their first caper and never had a break since. That’s what I’d like. You and me both lived too long to think I’m likely to see it happen. Not in this town, not in any town half this size, in any part of this wide, green and beautiful U.S.A. We just don’t run our country that way.
Raymond Chandler (The Big Sleep and Other Novels)
But depression wasn’t the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far beyond the personal: a sick, drenching nausea at all humanity and human endeavor from the dawn of time. The writhing loathsomeness of the biological order. Old age, sickness, death. No escape for anyone. Even the beautiful ones were like soft fruit about to spoil. And yet somehow people still kept fucking and breeding and popping out new fodder for the grave, producing more and more new beings to suffer like this was some kind of redemptive, or good, or even somehow morally admirable thing: dragging more innocent creatures into the lose-lose game. Squirming babies and plodding, complacent, hormone-drugged moms. Oh, isn’t he cute? Awww. Kids shouting and skidding in the playground with no idea what future Hells awaited them: boring jobs and ruinous mortgages and bad marriages and hair loss and hip replacements and lonely cups of coffee in an empty house and a colostomy bag at the hospital. Most people seemed satisfied with the thin decorative glaze and the artful stage lighting that, sometimes, made the bedrock atrocity of the human predicament look somewhat more mysterious or less abhorrent. People gambled and golfed and planted gardens and traded stocks and had sex and bought new cars and practiced yoga and worked and prayed and redecorated their homes and got worked up over the news and fussed over their children and gossiped about their neighbors and pored over restaurant reviews and founded charitable organizations and supported political candidates and attended the U.S. Open and dined and travelled and distracted themselves with all kinds of gadgets and devices, flooding themselves incessantly with information and texts and communication and entertainment from every direction to try to make themselves forget it: where we were, what we were. But in a strong light there was no good spin you could put on it. It was rotten top to bottom. Putting your time in at the office; dutifully spawning your two point five; smiling politely at your retirement party; then chewing on your bedsheet and choking on your canned peaches at the nursing home. It was better never to have been born—never to have wanted anything, never to have hoped for anything.
Donna Tartt (The Goldfinch)
The Riders Placencia Beach, Belize, 1996 Americans aren’t overly familiar with Tim Winton, although in my mind he is one of the best writers anywhere. This novel is set in Ireland and Greece as a man and his daughter search for their missing wife and mother. Gripping. 2. Family Happiness Miacomet Beach, Nantucket, 2001 The finest of Laurie Colwin’s novels, this is, perhaps, my favorite book in all the world. It tells the story of Polly Demarest, a Manhattan woman who is torn between her very uptown lawyer husband and her very downtown artist lover. 3. Mary and O’Neil Cottesloe Beach, Western Australia, 2009 These connected stories by Justin Cronin will leave you weeping and astonished. 4. Appointment in Samarra Nha Trang Beach, Vietnam, 2010 This classic novel was recommended to me by my local independent bookseller, Dick Burns, once he had found out how much I loved Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates. John O’Hara’s novel has all the requisite elements of a page-turner—drinking, swearing, and country club adultery, although set in 1930s Pennsylvania. This may sound odd, but trust me, it’s un-put-downable! 5. Wife 22 Oppenheimer Beach, St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands, 2012 If you like piña coladas… you will love Melanie Gideon’s tale of marriage lost and rediscovered. 6. The Interestings Steps Beach, Nantucket, 2013 And this summer, on Steps Beach in Nantucket, I will be reading The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer. Wolitzer is one of my favorite writers. She explores the battles between the sexes better than anyone around.
Elin Hilderbrand (Beautiful Day)
A gigantic tree stands at the edge of the cliff, a tree that looks like it has existed since the beginning of the world and props up not only the sky but also time.
Lee Seung-u (La vie rêvée des plantes)
Lepota koju je Čerulova imala u glavi odmalena nije našla put, Grekova, i završila se cela na licu, na grudima, bedrima, dupetu, na mestima gde brzo prolazi i kao da nikada nije postojala." Elena Ferante, "Moja genijalna prijateljica
Elena Ferrante
Summer the most beautiful feeling of the year,It’s the feel of warm sweet melody caressing ourselves , it’s the feeling of fresh breeze from the oceans, It’s the lovely feel of a warming slow waves touching u at the sandy beach, Summer is the Warm Magical touch of the Sun.
Motherly Love
Charles E Hudson
Dew dampened the grass and shimmered on the apples. From a distance, the blueberry bushes glistened as if encased in frost, and the trees looked as if they had been cloaked in ice. Walking through the orchards was comforting to Sam, nearly as comforting as baking. There was a precision in both endeavors, which brought a sense of order to the world, and yet each was filled with new surprises and revelations every day. The trees lined up like hunchback sentinels, seeming to protect the women as they walked the land. The paths between the trees were grassy but worn, showing where tourists and U-Pickers had trod in straight lines before veering left or right. Every so often, the earth had been upended by moles, muddy earthquakes left in the wake of their own underground walks. "Grandpa hated moles, didn't he?" Sam asked out of the blue. "With a passion," Willo said, touched that Sam remembered an innocuous fact about her grandfather from long ago. It was even cooler as the three went deeper into the heart of the orchards, mist dancing in between the rows of trees and the lake glistening beyond like a mirage. It was magical, mysterious, a lost world. I always feel like I've been transported to the world depicted in Lord of the Rings, Sam thought.
Viola Shipman (The Recipe Box)
A popular U.S. Army marching song, “The Water Cure,” gleefully described the process: Get the good old syringe boys and fill it to the brim. We’ve caught another nigger and we’ll operate on him. Let someone take the handle who can work it with a vim. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus: Hurray. Hurrah. We bring the Jubilee. Hurray. Hurrah. The flag that makes him free. Shove in the nozzle deep and let him taste of liberty. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. We’ve come across the bounding main to kindly spread around Sweet liberty whenever there are rebels to be found. So hurry with the syringe boys. We’ve got him down and bound. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Oh pump it in him till he swells like a toy balloon. The fool pretends that liberty is not a precious boon. But we’ll contrive to make him see the beauty of it soon. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Keep the piston going boys and let the banner wave. The banner that floats proudly o’er the noble and the brave. Keep on till the squirt gun breaks or he explodes the slave. Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Chorus: Hurrah. Hurrah. We bring the Jubilee. Hurrah. Hurrah. The flag that makes him free. We’ve got him down and bound, so let’s fill him full of liberty. Shouting the battle cry of freedom.
James D. Bradley (The Imperial Cruise: A True Story of Empire and War)
a SmILe Z LyK a SiM cArD lYf z LYk A cElLpHoNe wHenEvEr U iNsErT tHe SiM caRd Of a SMiLe A BeAuTiFuL dAy WiLl ActIvAtEd
i m the own for the quotes.... 3
San Diego—the city near Coronado—has beautiful weather, but Southern California is the land of nuts. I wanted to live somewhere with a little more sanity.
Chris Kyle (American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History)
When last did u sit back and took an opportunity to lookup and thank the Heavens above for blessing you with what you have and continuing to open doors for you every time you knock "and sometimes letting you in through the window" because not all doors are as beautiful on the inside as they are on the inside
Katlego Semusa
What left a mark No longer stings Because grace makes beauty Out of ugly things. U2, “Grace
Dan Montgomery (PROOF: Finding Freedom through the Intoxicating Joy of Irresistible Grace)
life?? easy to live? no, no way. but it is really good to live it with beautiful things and beautiful people around u. now yes. it is easier....(kot po hajt)
xhovana guri
I dun knw things get trapped In my mind Then itss smethin That I wanna find I dun get the answer Is there anyone listenin to me No one there to see To see the pain and the agony Inside ur beautiful heart To see that u kissed the pain And kicked everythin apart
B. Bhardwaz
I prefer to use 'The Medieval Scapini Tarot' deck produced by U.S. Games Systems Inc., Stamford, Connecticut. The cards are beautiful, captivating and of excellent quality, and I endorse them wholeheartedly. I should add that I have no connection with U.S. Games Systems, and this is an unbiased endorsement. That having been said, if U.S. Games Systems were appreciative of my comments, and offered me many free packs of cards (or large sums of money) as a charming gesture of goodwill, I should be happy to accept such tokens without compromising my integrity in any way. They might like to bear in mind that in future editions of this book my endorsements may have 'evolved' in the direction of other card companies who are, perhaps, a little more generous in their appreciation of my valuable judgements.
Ian Rowland (The Full Facts Book of Cold Reading: A Comprehensive Guide to the Most Persuasive Psychological Manipulation Technique in the World)
Empat. Passion is the languange of the soul. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder - passion makes it possible for the mind to think and for the heart to feel. Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it, Budha. Kehidupan yang sesungguhnya baru dimulai saat ada kejujuran, keberanian, dan kepedulian untuk menjalaninya sesuai dengan bahasa jiwa.
Rene Suhardono (Your Journey to be The Ultimate U 2 (Ultimate U, #2))
a country with a well-educated middle class and a statuesque, catwalk-ready Facebook generation that embraces African and American fashions to create an elegant and athletic style of bling and beauty.
Thomas J. Brennan (Shooting Ghosts: A U.S. Marine, a Combat Photographer, and Their Journey Back from War)
TEN WAYS A PARTNER CAN HELP Before the baby’s born, help stock the freezer with meals that can be eaten with one hand. Find a good phone number for help and call it as needed. (La Leche League’s website, llli.org, and U.S.-based phone line, 877–4-LA LECHE (877–452–5324), can both lead you to your closest local group, and that’s a fast route to anything else you might need.) Buy the grocery basics, and keep easy, healthy snacks on hand. Get dinner—any dinner! Nights can be tough at first. Be flexible about where and when everyone sleeps. Going to bed early helps! Do more than your share. You may be what keeps the household running for a while. Everything won’t get done. Talk about what’s most important to her—a clean kitchen? a cleared desk?—and do that first. Get home on time. You’re like a breath of fresh air for mother and baby both. Helping out means helping emotionally, too. Remind her how much you love her, how wonderful she looks, and what a great job she’s doing. There she is, holding your child. She really is beautiful, isn’t she? Remind her that this part is temporary. Most women feel it takes at least six weeks to start to have a handle on this motherhood thing. Life will settle down. But it takes a while.
La Leche League International (The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding)
YOU R sO bRUEtifUL... how R U so BRUTEfUL and good?
Allie Brosh (Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened)
What you don’t have you don’t need it now. 
What you don’t know you can feel it somehow
. What you don’t have you don’t need it now
, don’t need it now
It was a beautiful day
You made flowers bloom in my lungs, although they're beautiful, I can't breathe...
I need U
Hell, you knew she had baggage. Layers. You told me you wanted to find out everything about her. Find out why she doesn’t have a family. Find out why she’s all alone in New York. Find out why she’s living in Pete’s spare room until tomorrow.” I spin to face him. “She’s living with Pete and Reagan?” I didn’t know about that. “Why?” He shrugs. “She had to move out of the dorm after graduation. They had an empty room. But Reagan’s parents are coming to stay for two weeks, so she’s going somewhere else.” “Where?” I ask quickly. He shrugs. “Does it matter?” But he’s grinning. Fuck yeah, it matters. “Is she going to stay with one of the douchebags?” “What douchebags?” Matt scratches his head. “Never mind,” I say. Hope swells within me. I shouldn’t let it, but it does. I get out a piece of paper and write on it in magic marker: ROOM FOR RENT PRICE NEGOTIABLE ONLY BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BOMBSHELLS NEED APPLY PREFERABLY ONES NAMED FRIDAY I walk out of the back room and go to the bulletin board. I stick a thumbtack in the “advertisement” and walk away. I hear a snicker from behind me and turn to grin at Logan. You’re a d-o-o-f-u-s, he signs, fingerspelling the last word because there’s no sign for something so stupid. I know, I sign back. He looks a little worried for me, but I don’t care. I can’t get where I want to go if I don’t take a first step. Regardless of whether or not she’s pregnant, she needs a place to stay and I have two empty rooms. And she’s family, for Christ’s sake. I’ve never wanted to eat out a member of my family, though. I scratch my head. I should probably stop thinking like that. I whistle to myself as I walk to my office. I have some paperwork to do before my first appointment arrives. And I need to give Friday time to find my ad.
Tammy Falkner (Proving Paul's Promise (The Reed Brothers, #5))
Adzuki beans are small, russet-colored beans. They have a thin white line on the ridge. They’re somewhat thick-skinned with a sweet, nutty flavor. Black beans or turtle beans have a beautiful matte black color. The flesh is cream-colored with a rich, earthy flavor. Cannellini or white beans are white and kidney-shaped. They have a creamy, smooth texture and are good in soups and salads. Chickpeas are round, cream-colored legumes. Extremely popular in the Mediterranean, India, and the Middle East, they have a nutlike flavor. Very high in fiber and nutrients, they’re great when tossed on a salad, mixed with some chopped onion and olive oil, or pureed into hummus. Fava beans or broad beans are usually available whole in their pods or peeled and split. They’re large and light brown with a nutty taste and a slightly grainy texture. Great Northern beans are large white beans with a creamy texture. Use them in baked bean dishes. Navy beans are small white beans and are so called because the U.S. Navy used to keep them aboard ships as a standard provision. Pinto beans are perhaps the most popular beans in the United States. Pale pink with streaks of brown, once cooked, they turn entirely pink. They have a rich, meaty taste.
Steven G. Pratt (SuperFoods Rx)
Taki As a prolific author and journalist, Taki has written for many top-rated publications, including the Spectator, the London Sunday Times, Vanity Fair, National Review, and many others. Greek-born and American-educated, Taki is a well-known international personality and a respected social critic all over the world. In June 1987, I was an usher at the wedding of Harry Somerset, Marquis of Worcester, to Tracy Ward. The wedding and ensuing ball took place in the grand Ward country house, attended by a large portion of British society, including the Prince and Princess of Wales. Late in the evening, while I was in my cups, a friend, Nicky Haslam, grabbed my arm and introduced me to Diana, who was coming off the dance floor. We exchanged pleasantries, me slurring my words to the extent that she suddenly took my hand, looked at me straight in the face, and articulated, “T-a-k-e y-o-u-r t-i-m-e.” She mistook my drunken state for a severe speech impediment and went into her queen-of-hearts routine. Nicky, of course, ruined it all by pulling her away and saying, “Oh, let him be, ma’am; he’s drunk as usual.” We occasionally met after that and always had a laugh about it. But we never got further than that rather pathetic incident. In 1994, I began writing the “Atticus” column for the Sunday Times, the bestselling Sunday broadsheet in Britain. By this time Diana and Charles had separated, and Diana had gone on the offensive against what was perceived by her to be Buckingham Palace plotting. As a confirmed monarchist, I warned in one of my columns that her popularity was enough to one day bring down the monarchy. I also wrote that she was bonkers. One month or so later, at a ball given in London by Sir James Goldsmith and his daughter Jemima Khan, a mutual friend approached me and told me that Princess Diana would like to speak with me. As luck would have it, yet again I was under the weather. When I reached her table, she pulled out a seat for me and asked me to sit down. The trouble was that I missed the chair and ended up under the table. Diana screamed with laughter, pulled up the tablecloth, looked underneath, and asked me pointblank: “Do you really think I’m mad?” For once I had the right answer. “All I know is I’m mad about you.” It was the start of a beautiful friendship, as Bogie said in Casablanca.
Larry King (The People's Princess: Cherished Memories of Diana, Princess of Wales, from Those Who Knew Her Best)
From the Bridge” by Captain Hank Bracker Behind “The Exciting Story of Cuba” It was on a rainy evening in January of 2013, after Captain Hank and his wife Ursula returned by ship from a cruise in the Mediterranean, that Captain Hank was pondering on how to market his book, Seawater One. Some years prior he had published the book “Suppressed I Rise.” But lacking a good marketing plan the book floundered. Locally it was well received and the newspapers gave it great reviews, but Ursula was battling allergies and, unfortunately, the timing was off, as was the economy. Captain Hank has the ability to see sunshine when it’s raining and he’s not one easily deterred. Perhaps the timing was off for a novel or a textbook, like the Scramble Book he wrote years before computers made the scene. The history of West Africa was an option, however such a book would have limited public interest and besides, he had written a section regarding this topic for the second Seawater book. No, what he was embarking on would have to be steeped in history and be intertwined with true-life adventures that people could identify with. Out of the blue, his friend Jorge suggested that he write about Cuba. “You were there prior to the Revolution when Fidel Castro was in jail,” he ventured. Laughing, Captain Hank told a story of Mardi Gras in Havana. “Half of the Miami Police Department was there and the Coca-Cola cost more than the rum. Havana was one hell of a place!” Hank said. “I’ll tell you what I could do. I could write a pamphlet about the history of the island. It doesn’t have to be very long… 25 to 30 pages would do it.” His idea was to test the waters for public interest and then later add it to his book Seawater One. Writing is a passion surpassed only by his love for telling stories. It is true that Captain Hank had visited Cuba prior to the Revolution, but back then he was interested more in the beauty of the Latino girls than the history or politics of the country. “You don’t have to be Greek to appreciate Greek history,” Hank once said. “History is not owned solely by historians. It is a part of everyone’s heritage.” And so it was that he started to write about Cuba. When asked about why he wasn’t footnoting his work, he replied that the pamphlet, which grew into a book over 600 pages long, was a book for the people. “I’m not writing this to be a history book or an academic paper. I’m writing this book, so that by knowing Cuba’s past, people would understand it’s present.” He added that unless you lived it, you got it from somewhere else anyway, and footnoting just identifies where it came from. Aside from having been a ship’s captain and harbor pilot, Captain Hank was a high school math and science teacher and was once awarded the status of “Teacher of the Month” by the Connecticut State Board of Education. He has done extensive graduate work, was a union leader and the attendance officer at a vocational technical school. He was also an officer in the Naval Reserve and an officer in the U.S. Army for a total of over 40 years. He once said that “Life is to be lived,” and he certainly has. Active with Military Intelligence he returned to Europe, and when I asked what he did there, he jokingly said that if he had told me he would have to kill me. The Exciting Story of Cuba has the exhilaration of a novel. It is packed full of interesting details and, with the normalizing of the United States and Cuba, it belongs on everyone’s bookshelf, or at least in the bathroom if that’s where you do your reading. Captain Hank is not someone you can hold down and after having read a Proof Copy I know that it will be universally received as the book to go to, if you want to know anything about Cuba! Excerpts from a conversation with Chief Warrant Officer Peter Rommel, USA Retired, Military Intelligence Corps, Winter of 2014.
Hank Bracker (The Exciting Story of Cuba: Understanding Cuba's Present by Knowing Its Past)
Desava se da posle neke osobe ne zelimo nista u zivotu. Ali se takodje desava da upoznamo nekog novog nakon toga i pozelimo sve opet.
Tamara Stamenkovic
If you don't learn 2 accept, You'll go on chasing shadows and faraway mirages forever, never realizing that they only look beautiful when U are far from them.
Ma Naina
Among the numerous heartbreaks of this terrible war, the innocent horses shot, abused, and killed would not rank among the worst atrocities—but somehow, the killing of innocent beasts, domesticated animals who existed only for man's beauty and pleasure, seemed to highlight the barbaric and depraved depths to which man had allowed himself to sink.
Elizabeth Letts (The Perfect Horse: the Daring U.S. Mission to Rescue the Priceless Stallions Kidnapped by the Nazis)
Education was still considered a privilege in England. At Oxford you took responsibility for your efforts and for your performance. No one coddled, and no one uproariously encouraged. British respect for the individual, both learner and teacher, reigned. If you wanted to learn, you applied yourself and did it. Grades were posted publicly by your name after exams. People failed regularly. These realities never ceased to bewilder those used to “democracy” without any of the responsibility. For me, however, my expectations were rattled in another way. I arrived anticipating to be snubbed by a culture of privilege, but when looked at from a British angle, I actually found North American students owned a far greater sense of entitlement when it came to a college education. I did not realize just how much expectations fetter—these “mind-forged manacles,”2 as Blake wrote. Oxford upholds something larger than self as a reference point, embedded in the deep respect for all that a community of learning entails. At my very first tutorial, for instance, an American student entered wearing a baseball cap on backward. The professor quietly asked him to remove it. The student froze, stunned. In the United States such a request would be fodder for a laundry list of wrongs done against the student, followed by threatening the teacher’s job and suing the university. But Oxford sits unruffled: if you don’t like it, you can simply leave. A handy formula since, of course, no one wants to leave. “No caps in my classroom,” the professor repeated, adding, “Men and women have died for your education.” Instead of being disgruntled, the student nodded thoughtfully as he removed his hat and joined us. With its expanses of beautiful architecture, quads (or walled lawns) spilling into lush gardens, mist rising from rivers, cows lowing in meadows, spires reaching high into skies, Oxford remained unapologetically absolute. And did I mention? Practically every college within the university has its own pub. Pubs, as I came to learn, represented far more for the Brits than merely a place where alcohol was served. They were important gathering places, overflowing with good conversation over comforting food: vital humming hubs of community in communication. So faced with a thousand-year-old institution, I learned to pick my battles. Rather than resist, for instance, the archaic book-ordering system in the Bodleian Library with technological mortification, I discovered the treasure in embracing its seeming quirkiness. Often, when the wrong book came up from the annals after my order, I found it to be right in some way after all. Oxford often works such. After one particularly serendipitous day of research, I asked Robert, the usual morning porter on duty at the Bodleian Library, about the lack of any kind of sophisticated security system, especially in one of the world’s most famous libraries. The Bodleian was not a loaning library, though you were allowed to work freely amid priceless artifacts. Individual college libraries entrusted you to simply sign a book out and then return it when you were done. “It’s funny; Americans ask me about that all the time,” Robert said as he stirred his tea. “But then again, they’re not used to having u in honour,” he said with a shrug.
Carolyn Weber (Surprised by Oxford)
The crowd began to murmur in the indistinguishable syllables of backstage banter. As the ball ascended, so did the volume of the murmurs. Words could be made out. Then phrases. “Lovely golf stroke.” “Super golf shot.” “Beautiful golf shot.” “Truly fine golf stroke.” They always said golf stroke, like someone might mistake it for a swim stroke, or—as Myron was currently contemplating in this blazing heat—a sunstroke. “Mr. Bolitar?” Myron took the periscope away from his eyes. He was tempted to yell “Up periscope,” but feared some at stately, snooty Merion Golf Club would view the act as immature. Especially during the U.S. Open. He looked down at a ruddy-faced man of about seventy. “Your pants,” Myron said. “Pardon me?” “You’re afraid of getting hit by a golf cart, right?” They were orange and yellow in a hue slightly more luminous than a bursting supernova. To be fair, the man’s clothing hardly stood out. Most in the crowd seemed to have woken up wondering what apparel they possessed that would clash with, say, the free world. Orange and green tints found exclusively in several of your tackiest neon signs adorned many. Yellow and some strange shades of purple were also quite big—usually together—like a color scheme rejected by a Midwest high school cheerleading squad. It was as if being surrounded by all this God-given natural beauty made one want to do all in his power to offset it. Or maybe there was something else at work here. Maybe the ugly clothes had a more functional origin. Maybe in the old days, when animals roamed free, golfers dressed this way to ward off dangerous wildlife. Good
Harlan Coben (Back Spin (Myron Bolitar, #4))
Distance was a cleansing agent for everything. “The pervasive mud, and jungle gloom and tropical sun, when they are not all around you smothering you, can have a haunting beauty at a far remove,” wrote an infantryman who would arrive at Guadalcanal later, James Jones. “When you are not straining and gasping to save your life, the act of doing so can seem adventurous and exciting from a distance. The greater the distance, the greater the adventure. But, God help me, it was beautiful.
James D. Hornfischer (Neptune's Inferno: The U.S. Navy at Guadalcanal)
Although both the U.S. and Canadian sides of the falls are well worth visiting, the best views, including nighttime illumination, are from the beautifully manicured flower gardens that line the Canadian side. However, to get up-close-and-personal with the falls, visit Niagara Falls State Park in New York, where there are several locations, including Prospect Point, Luna Island, Terrapin Point, and the Three Sisters Islands, that allow visitors to stand within a few feet of the raging rapids and at the brink of the falls.
Patricia Schultz (1,000 Places to See in the United States & Canada Before You Die)
Here is good CS Lewis quote about reading and litterature generally: "Literature enlarges our being by admitting us to experiences not our own. They may be beautiful, terrible, awe-inspiring, exhilarating, pathetic, comic, or merely piquant. Literature give the entree to them all. Those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom realize the enormous extension of our being that we owe to authors. We realize it best when we talk with an unliterary friend. he may be full of goodness and good sense but he inhabits a tiny world. In it, we should be suffocated. My own eyes are not enough for me. Even the eyes of all humanity are not enough. Very gladly would I learn what face things present to a mouse or a bee. (…) In reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in a Greek poem, I see with a thousand eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself: and am never more myself than when I do." C. S. Lewis An Experiment in Criticism. 1961 pp. 140-141 Cambridge U. Press
C.S. Lewis
Here is good CS Lewis quote about reading and literature generally: "Literature enlarges our being by admitting us to experiences not our own. They may be beautiful, terrible, awe-inspiring, exhilarating, pathetic, comic, or merely piquant. Literature give the entree to them all. Those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom realize the enormous extension of our being that we owe to authors. We realize it best when we talk with an unliterary friend. he may be full of goodness and good sense but he inhabits a tiny world. In it, we should be suffocated. My own eyes are not enough for me. Even the eyes of all humanity are not enough. Very gladly would I learn what face things present to a mouse or a bee. (…) In reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself. Like the night sky in a Greek poem, I see with a thousand eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself: and am never more myself than when I do." C. S. Lewis An Experiment in Criticism. 1961 pp. 140-141 Cambridge U. Press
C.S. Lewis
imagination run away with itself, conjuring up images of Devlin having secret assignations with leggy blondes… I heaved an exasperated sigh. This is ridiculous! I decided I would go out for lunch myself, and then maybe have a little wander through town, do some window-shopping. That would stop me sitting at home, brooding over Devlin’s whereabouts. I grabbed my coat and keys once more and left the cottage. As I turned onto the towpath by the river and began walking towards town, I felt a sense of delight again at having found such a great place to live. Oxford was probably one of the most expensive cities to live in the U.K.: it had easy access to London and a beautiful location near the Cotswolds, not to mention its own spectacular architecture, vibrant cultural scene and shopping. I had searched in vain for somewhere I could afford and I had almost given up hope—when I had found this cottage. It
H.Y. Hanna (Muffins and Mourning Tea (Oxford Tearoom Mysteries #5))
There is one innocence in u like i have, cuteness nd Madness in ur thoughts and laugh like i have. Beautiful, pure heart like i have.
Niyati bhavsar
So, the image to start. The perception of the world as it is, the phantasm, the flare of the visionary idea is flattened to a page by the male intellect. Controlled, categorized, c-a-t-a-l-o-g-u-e-d. The ethereal is quashed. Address, that beautiful oration announcing itself, becomes a dress feebly worn, becomes a picture of a dress in a catalogue.
Norah Vincent (Adeline: A Novel of Virginia Woolf)
It was written in late 1871, during one of the most turbulent periods of the Blessed Beauty’s ministry. He was in the prison-city of ‘Akká, but had recently moved out of the citadel. Some members of the community were asserting themselves rebelliously and proving themselves unfaithful. This played into the hands of His enemies, caused confusion among the friends and brought enormous sadness to Bahá’u’lláh. His greatest sorrow was not from the deeds of His enemies: it was from unfaithfulness and treachery from within the community. During this time, a faithful and pure-hearted believer, ‘Alí-Akbar, wrote to Bahá’u’lláh. Hearing from this dearly-loved follower while surrounded by so-called believers who were treacherous, must have been a balm to His anguished Soul. This is the Tablet that was revealed in response to ‘Alí-Akbar’s letter. This one sincere heart became a channel through which the whole world could forever glimpse Bahá’u’lláh’s realm of adversity and feel some heat of tribulation suffered by the Redeemer of the world.[3]
John Kolstoe (Pondering the Fire Tablet: Reflections on Bahá’u’lláh’s “Fire Tablet”)
When we pass from the fluids to their associated subatomic particles, or quanta, we realize that the existence of gravitons, photons, weakons, and color gluons-the quanta of the metric, electromagnetic, weak, and strong fluids, respectively-and their properties, are unavoidable and unique consequences of various local symmetries. The usual jargon for those local symmetries, in the physics literature, is: General covariance, for the local version of special relativity U(1) gauge symmetry, for the local version of rotation in electric charge property space SU(2) gauge symmetry, for the local version of rotation in weak charge property space SU(3) gauge symmetry, for the local version of rotation in strong charge property space
Frank Wilczek (A Beautiful Question: Finding Nature's Deep Design)
The famous red stone of Sedona is formed by a layer known as the Schnebly Hill Formation. It is a thick layer of red- to orange-colored, iron-rich sandstone found only in the Sedona vicinity. Its beauty is unprecedented in the world.
Thomas Horn (On the Path of the Immortals: Exo-Vaticana, Project L. U. C. I. F. E. R. , and the Strategic Locations Where Entities Await the Appointed Time)
It was in this atmosphere of war, heroism, and controversy that my wife’s grandmother, Johanna Boel Sigurdardottir, met and fell in love with Samuel Emmett Hearn Jr. He was a gallant soldier, and she was a natural beauty.
Gudjon Bergmann ("You Can't Have the Green Card": The Incredible Story of How I Became a U.S. Citizen)
We as Nigerians do not know how lucky we are …with everything falling apart in several other countries we should count ourselves very lucky to still be at peace …I feel sorry for the young igbo man screening biafra …bu then even in the mist of peaceful loving people I guess a hint of madness is allowed to remind the normal minded people of love peace and unity d basis upon which the country, Nigeria was originally built on …Nigeria has indeed grown and is blossoming to become the beauty of the world every day…no country even America got to where they are now without first nearly going extinct. ..look at the grate depression amongst others, am not saying we have to get to that extent but its darkest before dawn..lets persevere and hang in there ..Nigeria will be great I tell u…thanks for the lovely pictures. .God bless our motherland .
Aromire yetunde Claris
We heard U2’s “Beautiful Day” and Depeche Mode’s “World in My Eyes,” which starts, “Let me take you on a trip / Around the world and back / And you won’t have to move / You just sit still.
Chris Hadfield (An Astronaut's Guide to Life on Earth)
An hour before the ceremony, I met up with Russ.  He immediately began trying to talk me out of getting married.  He kept it up all the way to the altar.  We were standing there waiting for Marguerite and her dad to walk down the aisle.  “Come on, Spice, you really don’t want to do this.  There are two exit doors right over there.  We can be out those doors and out of here in just a couple of seconds.  These clods won’t know what hit ‘em.”      “Russ, this is something I really want to do.”      At that very moment, the wedding march started.  I looked down the aisle to see Marguerite.  She was absolutely stunning.  I thought to myself how lucky I was to be here and about to marry someone that beautiful.      Russ said, “Never mind what I said.  I take it all back.  I just hope I can find someone like her someday.
W.R. Spicer (Sea Stories of a U.S. Marine, Book 1, Stripes to Bars)
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread. Places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike,” said 19th century naturalist John Muir.
Brent Bowers (1,000 Things to Love About America: Celebrating the Reasons We’re Proud to Call the U.S.A. Home)
Loving someone and something doesn't make your life beautiful.. loving every one and everything creates u beautiful life...
Some types of fall not only bitterness equivalent bitter death it some drops of eye drops and some heart and some drops of memory which fall from eye drops after stages of shock, surprise and indignation, contempt and failed attempts to justify the choice of this type of fall. Either fall heart it follows the stages of love, beautiful dream and the sense of loss and regret and failed attempts to revive the feelings died. Either the fall of memory it starts after stages of recollection and nostalgia after bitter battles with oblivion resulting desire to adhere to spectra events ended. And often the downfall of memory is the last stages of the fall is the kindest types fall. Not necessarily that which falls from your eyes falling from your heart or you fall from your heart falls from your memory. Every fall the causes that may not be affected by or affect the other type of fall, some falling from your heart, but still retains clean landscapes in your eyes into your oversized bead to a sense of inflated respect they treated with discretion. Gratitude for the high capacity to retain his image color in your eyes while amtsah the image from your heart. This type of humans makes a frequency yourself whenever his ticket ... U k RA either great suffering. It is while falling from your eyes a man but not falling from your heart and remain in abeyance between the fall and fall of the eye and heart remain solely a victim feelings of annoy t h b e, but you yourself t h t s and maybe his disdain over your love. And that memory as a way to pick up most of the faces that meet her that may not mean you order something, the fall of memory is the kindest types fall for the last stages of their fall from you, which falls from the memory remains in the heart and in the eye of one b t how beautiful that we find ourselves in warm places in their hearts and their eyes, but the most beautiful is to preserve the purity of these places, and if we let us not fall fall day eye ..! Because after the spill, all clean surfaces contaminated
Scheherazade Gulf
Their management and regulation of our lives spans the total spectrum of American experience, from their obtuse Imperial Measurement System, to their irregularity-strangled English language. From their lobbyist-ruled government bureaucracy, to their consumer-oriented religious holidays like Christmas. From their brainless professional sports jocks cast as heroes, to their anorexic supermodels warping the concept of beauty. These are the people who made sugary colas more important than water; fast food more important than health; television sitcoms more important than reading literature. They made smoking a joint in your home a crime; going out in public without your hair tinted an embarrassment; and accidentally carrying a half-filled bottle of baby formula on an airplane a terrorist act. Do you realize 85 percent of Americans still say ‘God bless you’ after someone sneezes? And that ‘In God We Trust’ is on every U.S. dollar in circulation? Or that ‘One nation under God’ is recited every day in the Pledge of Allegiance by millions of impressionable kids?
Zoltan Istvan (The Transhumanist Wager)
He walked over to his place, the center of a U-shaped configuration of tables, and set his papers down, pretending to consult them. Instead, he inspected Lily covertly, hoping to detect a weakness, some tiny chink in her armor. Damn her for being more beautiful than ever, he thought. A single glance and he began wanting things he knew were impossible.
Laura Moore (Night Swimming)
There is one problem, however, at least for alternative experiments of the American variety (and possibly some European as well), namely that we have no clear litmus test to determine which models are truly steady-state (non-expansionist) and which are business as usual hiding under “green wigs.” This latter trend is known as “greenwashing,” in which the language is hip and the bottom line remains profit. Thomas Friedman and Al Gore are major (and wealthy) players in this category, perpetuating the notion of “green corporations.” Other examples include a 2012 conference on “Sustainable Investing,” sponsored by Deepak Chopra, among others, which had as its slogans “Make Money and Make a Difference” and “Capitalism for a Democratic Society.” All of this is the attempt to have one’s cake and eat it too (or simply eat someone else’s cake); there is no real interest in disconnecting from growth, and it is growth that is the core of the problem. As Professor Magnuson tells us, while traveling around the U.S. to interview varous alternative businesses and experiments, he discovered that many of them were shams—capitalist wolves in green clothing.
Morris Berman (Neurotic Beauty: An Outsider Looks At Japan)
11-8 Let me prophesy something to you just before it comes to pass. The whole world is groping in insanity, and will get worse, and worse, and worse until it'll be a bunch of maniacs, and it's almost that way now. Could you imagine a man driving with his lights off on the wrong side of the road, a Ricky, a young kid supposed to be right out of high school? Killed a bunch of people... Does that stop them? The next one came right behind him doing the same thing. Can you imagine a young man that thinks of himself, anything of himself, getting out here and acting the way they do? Could you imagine a young woman in the bloom of womanhood, beautiful, well-built, shaped, profile, face, beautiful... And the very thing of her being pretty shows that we're at the end time. See, she's went altogether to worldly feature, worldly things and not the beauty of holiness, sweetness in her soul. I've seen women, on the outside of them wasn't nothing to look at, but you speak to them one time, talk to them a few minutes; they're real genuine something that you can't get away from. See, beauty of the outside is of the devil; it's of the world. ( "And knoweth it not" Preached on Sunday, 15th August 1965 at the Branham Tabernacle in Jeffersonville, Indiana, U.S.A. - See - Paragraph 11-8 )
William Marrion Branham
According to the 2003–2007 Workplace Safety Survey by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, workers in health care and social services are five times more likely to be victims of a nonfatal assault than average workers in all other industries combined.
Michele Harper (The Beauty in Breaking: A Memoir)
goddess as children, and were deflowered at a very young age by a priest or, as Isis was, by a modeled obelisk of Osiris’ phallus. Sometimes these prostitutes were chosen, on the basis of their beauty, as the sexual mates of sacred temple bulls who were considered the incarnation of Osiris. In other places, such as at Mendes, temple prostitutes were offered in coitus to divine goats. Through such imitative sex, the dome and obelisk became “energy receivers,” capable of assimilating Ra’s essence from the rays of the sun, which in turn drew forth the “seed” of the underworld Osiris. The seed of the dead
Thomas Horn (On the Path of the Immortals: Exo-Vaticana, Project L. U. C. I. F. E. R. , and the Strategic Locations Where Entities Await the Appointed Time)
That time wen u are on the road and come across the storm, but within 3 minuets it’s all over as if nothing happened and u can now see the beauty of nature(the beauty of the sun,the shape of the clouds,feel the after rain breeze ). That is why it’s Even a challenge to explain to someone about that storm or after storm bcoz they didn’t experience it the same or they were not there .and that is why it’s important sometimes to categorize. The interpretation of events in life depends on your abilities.
Nkahloleng Eric Mohlala
Throughout the U.S., small farms are being squeezed out by large farms, the only ones able to survive on shrinking profit margins by economies of scale. But in southwestern Montana it is now impossible for small farmers to become large farmers by buying more land, for reasons succinctly explained by Allen Bjergo: “Agriculture in the U.S. is shifting to areas like Iowa and Nebraska, where no one would live for the fun of it because it isn’t beautiful as in Montana! Here in Montana, people do want to live for the fun of it, and so they are willing to pay much more for land than agriculture on the land would support. The Bitterroot is becoming a horse valley. Horses are economic because, whereas prices for agricultural products depend on the value of the food itself and are not unlimited, many people are willing to spend anything for horses that yield no economic benefit.
Jared Diamond (Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed: Revised Edition)
Public-health advocates are pressuring the FDA to ban parabens in products sold in the U.S. The European Union did this in 2012—but the economic influence of industry on regulation in American politics makes this unlikely.
James Hamblin (Clean: The New Science of Skin and the Beauty of Doing Less)
Fireplaces4U have a wide range of beautiful fireplaces and fire surrounds in every style. Contemporary and traditional styles from all the best brands.
Anyone who are being grateful in everything keeps the ability to see beauty.They are born naturally beautiful.
Lilia U. Chmelarz
The wind blew steadily in from the desert seeping the sand in low, thin sheets. Afternoon waned, the sun sank, twilight crept over the barren waste. There were no sounds but the seep of sand, the moan of wind, the mourn of wolf. Loneliness came with the night that mantled Beauty Stanton’s grave. Shadows trooped in from the desert and the darkness grew black. On that slope the wind always blew, and always the sand seeped, dusting over everything, imperceptibly changing the surface of the earth. The desert was still at work. Nature was no respecter of graves. Life was nothing. Radiant, cold stars blinked pitilessly out of the vast blue-black vault of heaven. But there hovered a spirit beside this woman’s last resting-place — a spirit like the night, sad, lonely, silent, mystical, immense. And as it hovered over hers so it hovered over other nameless graves. In the eternal workshop of nature, the tenants of these unnamed and forgotten graves would mingle dust of good with dust of evil, and by the divinity of death resolve equally into the elements again.
Zane Grey (The U. P. Trail)
The original flagship for the company was the MS City of New York, commanded by Captain George T. Sullivan, On March 29, 1942, she was attacked off the coast of Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, by the German submarine U-160. The torpedo struck the MS City of New York at the waterline under the ship’s bridge, instantly disabling her. After allowing the survivors to get into lifeboats the submarine sunk the ship. Almost two days after the attack, a destroyer, the USS Roper, rescued 70 survivors, of which 69 survived. An additional 29 others were picked up by USS Acushnet, formerly a seagoing tugboat and revenue cutter, operated by the U.S. Coast Guard. All these survivors were taken to the Naval Base in Norfolk, Virginia. Almost two weeks later, on April 11, 1942, a U.S. Army bomber on its way to Europe spotted a lifeboat drifting in the Gulf Stream. The boat contained six passengers: four women, one man and a young girl plus thirteen crew members. Tragically two of the women died of exposure. The eleven survivors picked up by the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter CG-455 and were brought to Lewes, Delaware. The final count showed that seven passengers died as well as one armed guard and sixteen crewmen. Photo Caption: the MS City of New York Hot books by Captain Hank Bracker available at Amazon.com “Salty & Saucy Maine,” is a coming of age book that recounts Captain Hank Bracker’s formative years. “Salty & Saucy Maine – Sea Stories from Castine” tells many sea stories of Captain Hank’s years at Maine Maritime Academy and certainly demonstrates that life should be lived to the fullest! In 2020 it became the most talked about book Down East! “The Exciting Story of Cuba -Understanding Cuba’s Present by Knowing Its Past” ISBN-13: 978 1484809457. This multi-award winning history of Cuba is written in an easy-to-read style. Follow in the footsteps of the heroes, beautiful movie stars and sinister villains, who influenced the course of a country that is much bigger than its size! This book is on the shelf as a reference book at the American Embassy in Havana and most American Military and Maritime Academies.
Captain Hank Bracker, Seawater series
[...] Sương hoài niệm vương dải nhớ mỏng tanh Mây u mịch tảng tảng bung mục rách Đã kinh qua bể dâu hàng tùng bách Dưới trăng nhạt lập lòe ánh thạch anh. Lá vàng rơi dội vang lời ám ảnh Người ra đi giọng còn níu trên vai Vĩnh cách tràng ly mãi không gặp lại Thiết chi thêm những tóc uốn trâm cài. [...] [...]
William Lê
Black is strong, powerful and beautiful
Niccolo from F.U.C.K.
Let your inner self able to see more beautiful things
Lilia U. Chmelarz
Europe, which at last count has banned 1300 chemicals from personal-care products, is way ahead of us in regard. Most people probably believe that the U.S. Food and Drug Administration is regulating what goes into personal-care products like lipstick, skin cream and shampoo. In fact, that's not the case at all. In the United States, the Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act of 1938 allowed cosmetic companies to police themselves—and nothing's changed in the 80 years since.
Sandy Skotnicki (Beyond Soap: The Real Truth about What You Are Doing to Your Skin and How to Fix It for a Beautiful, Healthy Glow)
From the side he’s like the buffalo on the U.S. nickel, shaggy and blunt-snouted, with small clenched eyes and the defiant but insane look of a species once dominant, now threatened with extinction. That’s how he thinks of himself, too: deposed, unjustly. Secretly he would like them to set up a kind of park for him, like a bird sanctuary. Beautiful Joe.
Margaret Atwood (Surfacing)
Ive and Jobs have even obsessed over, and patented, the packaging for various Apple products. U.S. patent D558572, for example, granted on January 1, 2008, is for the iPod Nano box, with four drawings showing how the device is nestled in a cradle when the box is opened. Patent D596485, issued on July 21, 2009, is for the iPhone packaging, with its sturdy lid and little glossy plastic tray inside. Early on, Mike Markkula had taught Jobs to “impute”—to understand that people do judge a book by its cover—and therefore to make sure all the trappings and packaging of Apple signaled that there was a beautiful gem inside. Whether it’s an iPod Mini or a MacBook Pro, Apple customers know the feeling of opening up the well-crafted box and finding the product nestled in an inviting fashion. “Steve and I spend a lot of time on the packaging,” said Ive. “I love the process of unpacking something. You design a ritual of unpacking to make the product feel special. Packaging can be theater, it can create a story.
Walter Isaacson (Steve Jobs)