U R The Best Quotes

The best kind of of revenge is to let him see how beautiful u r w/ or w/out him.

What would you say to a loved one if you had only a few seconds to impart a last message? What language does love speak? Some of you speak love with wine and roses. For other, "I love you," is best said by breakfast in bed, carefully set aside sport sections, or night out at the movies, complete with buttered popcorn. Children spell love T-I-M-E. So, I think, do older folks. Teenagers spell it T-R-U-S-T. Sometimes parents spell love N-O. But no matter what the letters, the emotion beneath the wording must be tangible, demonstrable, and sincere.

A man has to be a bit mad [...]. That's the best thing about him.

People are always complaining that American culture has conquered the world. In fact, British culture probably remains more dominant. This fading midsize island has kept a bizarre grip on the global imagination. It’s not only their sports that the Brits have exported. The world’s six best-selling novels of the past hundred years are all British: four Harry Potters, one Agatha Christie, and one J. R. R. Tolkien. The world’s best-selling band ever is the Beatles. And the sports league with the biggest global impact is surely the Premier League.

The list of correlations to that night is as long as the Jersey coast. And so is the list of reasons I shouldn't be looking forward to seeing him at school. But I can't help it. He's already texted me three times this morning: Can I pick you up for school? and Do u want 2 have breakfast? and R u getting my texts? My thumbs want to answer "yes" to all of the above, but my dignity demands that I don't answer at all. He called my his student. He stood there alone with me on the beach and told me he thinks of me as a pupil. That our relationship is platonic. And everyone knows what platonic means-rejected. Well, I might be his student, but I'm about to school, him on a few things. The first lesson of the day is Silent Treatment 101. So when I see him in the hall, I give him a polite nod and brush right by him. The zap from the slight contact never quite fades, which mean he's following me. I make it to my locker before his hand is on my arm. "Emma." The way he whispers my name sends goose bumps all the way to my baby toes. But I'm still in control. I nod to him, dial the combination to my locker, then open it in his face. He moves back before contact. Stepping around me, he leans his hand against the locker door and turns me around to face him. "That's not very nice." I raise my best you-started-this brow. He sighs. "I guess that means you didn't miss me." There are so many things I could pop off right now. Things like, "But at least I had Toraf to keep my company" or "You were gone?" Or "Don't feel bad, I didn't miss my calculus teacher either." But the goal is to say nothing. So I turn around. I transfer books and papers between my locker and backpack. As I stab a pencil into my updo, his breath pushes against my earlobe when he chuckles. "So your phone's not broken; you just didn't respond to my texts." Since rolling my eyes doesn't make a sound, it's still within the boundaries of Silent Treatment 101. So I do this while I shut my locker. As I push past him, he grabs my arm. And I figure if stomping on his toe doesn't make a sound... "My grandmother's dying," he blurts. Commence with the catching-Emma-off-guard crap. How can I continue Silent Treatment 101 after that? He never mentioned his grandmother before, but then again, I never mentioned mine either. "I'm sorry, Galen." I put my hand on his, give it a gentle squeeze. He laughs. Complete jackass. "Conveniently, she lives in a condo in Destin and her dying request is to meet you. Rachel called your mom. We're flying out Saturday afternoon, coming back Sunday night. I already called Dr. Milligan." "Un-freaking-believable.

Before 1975, if you knew the name Howard Sackler it was because he was the author behind the 1969 Broadway play The Great White Hope, which won Sackler the Tony and New York Drama Critics Circle award as the year’s Best Play as well as the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. A friend of film producer David Brown, Sackler accepted the offer to do a re-write on Jaws author Peter Benchley’s script for the film version of his novel. Sackler’s main contribution to the story was the back story that the shark fisherman, Quint, derived his hatred for sharks from having survived the sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis in July of 1945 (in the film, Quint errantly states the date as “June the 29th, 1945”).

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.

To our amazement Jimmy received a letter, dated August 20, 1963, from Bertrand Russell, the world-famous philosopher and peace activist, saying “I have recently finished your remarkable book The American Resolution” and “have been greatly impressed with its power and insight.” The letter goes on to ask for Jimmy’s views on whether American whites “will understand the negro [sic] revolt because “the survival of mankind may well follow or fail to follow from political and social behavior of Americans in the next decades.” On September 5 Jimmy wrote back a lengthy reply saying among other things that “so far, with the exception of the students, there has been no social force in the white population which the Negroes can respect and a handful of liberals joining in a demonstration doesn’t change this one bit.” Russell replied on September 18 with more questions that Jimmy answered in an even longer letter dated December 22. Meanwhile, Russell had sent a telegram to the November 21 Town Hall meeting in New York City at which Jimmy was scheduled to speak, warning Negroes not to resort to violence. In response Jimmy said at the meeting that “I too would like to hope that the issues of our revolt might be resolved by peaceful means,” but “the issues and grievances were too deeply imbedded in the American system and the American peoples so that the very things Russell warned against might just have to take place if the Negroes in the U.S.A. are ever to walk the streets as free men.” In his December 22 letter Jimmy repeats what he said at the meeting and then patiently explains to Russell that what has historically been considered democracy in the United States has actually been fascism for millions of Negroes. The letter concludes: I believe that it is your responsibility as I believe that it is my responsibility to recognize and record this, so that in the future words do not confuse the struggle but help to clarify it. This is what I think philosophers should make clear. Because even though Negroes in the United States still think they are struggling for democracy, in fact democracy is what they are struggling against. This exchange between Jimmy and Russell has to be seen to be believed. In a way it epitomizes the 1960s—Jimmy Boggs, the Alabama-born autoworker, explaining the responsibility of philosophers to The Earl Russell, O.M., F.R.S., in his time probably the West’s best-known philosopher. Within the next few years The American Revolution was translated and published in French, Italian, Japanese, Spanish, Catalan, and Portuguese. To this day it remains a page-turner for grassroots activists because it is so personal and yet political, so down to earth and yet visionary.

As he was moaning heavily in my ear, he looked at me and asked: "what are we doing?" I didn't bother myself to understand his question, I countinued grapping him harder and deeper.. So he repeated it, "Tell me, what are we doing?" I answered with a moquing yet assertive tone "HHm, we re FUCKING OFC" He stopped, I swear I could hear his heart dropped to his balls Come again? Fucking you said?? Yes arent we? No, we are making love I laughed as hard as I can Making Love you said? Oh love, we would be making love if we were couple we are just one night stand, it just happens that, that one night is on loop "When did you become so cruel?" as he was leaving my body.. Cruel? oh I've learnt from the best don't you agree? You are the one who said u're not ready for a relationship and you gave me all the bs about how you're not the one, and you're gonna deny me the opp to be with a better man bla bla bla So please spare me the emotions and dnt give me those puppy eyes I said those words as if I was possesed with all the hate and anger I have for him for the past 6 years I stopped for a moment and said I guess we r no longer fucking right? A tear came down to his cheek and I could feel it burning the ashes in my heart I dressed up and as I was leaving the motel, he grabbed me from behind hands over my breast breathing behind my neck Fucking you said..huh? I promise you that I'm finished you won't be able to walk".. he groans into my ear And i could feel him hard as stone again.. "“I believe that is what they call an erection." teasing him I said つづく

In the fall of 1990 Iraq invaded Kuwait, and in the run-up to the Gulf War, Americans were sickened by a story that emerged. On October 10, 1990, a fifteen-year-old refugee from Kuwait appeared before a congressional Human Rights Caucus.23 The girl—she would give only her first name, Nayirah—had volunteered in a hospital in Kuwait City. She tearfully testified that Iraqi soldiers had stolen incubators to ship home as plunder, leaving over three hundred premature infants to die. Our collective breath was taken away—“These people leave babies to die on the cold floor; they are hardly human.” The testimony was seen on the news by approximately 45 million Americans, was cited by seven senators when justifying their support of war (a resolution that passed by five votes), and was cited more than ten times by George H. W. Bush in arguing for U.S. military involvement. And we went to war with a 92 percent approval rating of the president’s decision. In the words of Representative John Porter (R-Illinois), who chaired the committee, after Nayirah’s testimony, “we have never heard, in all this time, in all circumstances, a record of inhumanity, and brutality, and sadism, as the ones that [Nayirah had] given us today.” Much later it emerged that the incubator story was a pseudospeciating lie. The refugee was no refugee. She was Nayirah al-Sabah, the fifteen-year-old daughter of the Kuwaiti ambassador to the United States. The incubator story was fabricated by the public relations firm Hill + Knowlton, hired by the Kuwaiti government with the help of Porter and cochair Representative Tom Lantos (D-California). Research by the firm indicated that people would be particularly responsive to stories about atrocities against babies (ya think?), so the incubator tale was concocted, the witness coached. The story was disavowed by human rights groups (Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch) and the media, and the testimony was withdrawn from the Congressional Record—long after the war.

Howard Rheingold: And it was all just words on a screen! R. U. Sirius: These were just text-based bulletin boards, but in many ways they were superior to social media today. You had really great conversations with extraordinary people. Larry Brilliant: Because it was Stewart, he attracted people who had these incredibly eclectic minds, and they were phenomenal writers, people who think in paragraphs. And the writing was fantastic! Kevin Kelly: That made for a very literate salon-like environment where people who could write were writing—and writing well and writing very directly. So some of the best writing I think of that decade was happening on The Well. Larry Brilliant: So just the opposite of Twitter. Lee Felsenstein: The Well, for its first five years at least, was the San Francisco bohemian scene online, where you could join the roundtable of whatever-it-was. There was a whole bunch of roundtables. And in there were the people who were the ones you had read about and so forth. Or had firsthand connections with the people you read about. San Francisco had had such a scene since the nineteenth century. And here it came direct to your home at your fingertips.

As he was moaning heavily in my ear, he looked at me and asked: "what are we doing?" I didn't bother myself to understand his question, I countinued grapping him harder and deeper.. So he repeated it, "Tell me, what are we doing?" I answered with a moquing yet assertive tone: "HHm, we re FUCKING OFC" He stopped, I swear I could hear his heart dropped to his balls "Come again? Fucking you said?? " "Yes arent we?" "No, we are making love" I laughed as hard as I can "Making Love you said? Oh love, we would be making love if we were couple we are just one night stand, it just happens that, that one night is on loop" "When did you become so cruel?" as he was leaving my body.. "Cruel? oh I've learnt from the best don't you agree?, "You are the one who said u're not ready for a relationship and you gave me all the bs about how you're not the one, and you're gonna deny me the opp to be with a better man bla bla bla So please spare me the emotions and dnt give me those puppy eyes" I said those words as if I was possesed with all the hate and anger I have for him for the past 6 years I stopped for a moment and said "I guess we r no longer fucking right?" A tear came down to his cheek and I could feel it burning the ashes in my heart I dressed up and as I was leaving the motel, he grabbed me from behind hands over my breast breathing behind my neck "Fucking you said..huh? I promise you that when I'm finished you won't be able to walk".. he groans into my ear And i could feel him hard as stone again.. "I believe that is what they call an erection." teasing him I said つづく

At his new headquarters in Melbourne, Australia, MacArthur granted Time correspondent Theodore H. White an interview and “managed to denounce all at once, and with equal gusto and abandon,” Franklin Roosevelt, George Marshall, Harry Luce (Time’s publisher), and the U.S. Navy. “White,” MacArthur lectured, “the best navy in the world is the Japanese navy. A first-class navy. Then comes the British Navy. The U.S. Navy is a fourth-class navy, not even as good as the Italian navy.

For the time being, however, his bent was literary and religious rather than balletic. He loved, and what seventh grader doesn’t, the abstracter foxtrots and more metaphysical twists of a Dostoevsky, a Gide, a Mailer. He longed for the experience of some vivider pain than the mere daily hollowness knotted into his tight young belly, and no weekly stomp-and-holler of group therapy with other jejune eleven-year-olds was going to get him his stripes in the major leagues of suffering, crime, and resurrection. Only a bona-fide crime would do that, and of all the crimes available murder certainly carried the most prestige, as no less an authority than Loretta Couplard was ready to attest, Loretta Couplard being not only the director and co-owner of the Lowen School but the author, as well, of two nationally televised scripts, both about famous murders of the 20th Century. They’d even done a unit in social studies on the topic: A History of Crime in Urban America. The first of Loretta’s murders was a comedy involving Pauline Campbell, R.N., of Ann Arbor, Michigan, circa 1951, whose skull had been smashed by three drunken teenagers. They had meant to knock her unconscious so they could screw her, which was 1951 in a nutshell. The eighteen-year-olds, Bill Morey and Max Pell, got life; Dave Royal (Loretta’s hero) was a year younger and got off with twenty-two years. Her second murder was tragic in tone and consequently inspired more respect, though not among the critics, unfortunately. Possibly because her heroine, also a Pauline (Pauline Wichura), though more interesting and complicated had also been more famous in her own day and ever since. Which made the competition, one best-selling novel and a serious film biography, considerably stiffen Miss Wichura had been a welfare worker in Atlanta, Georgia, very much into environment and the population problem, this being the immediate pre-Regents period when anyone and everyone was legitimately starting to fret. Pauline decided to do something, viz., reduce the population herself and in the fairest way possible. So whenever any of the families she visited produced one child above the three she’d fixed, rather generously, as the upward limit, she found some unobtrusive way of thinning that family back to the preferred maximal size. Between 1989 and 1993 Pauline’s journals (Random House, 1994) record twenty-six murders, plus an additional fourteen failed attempts. In addition she had the highest welfare department record in the U.S. for abortions and sterilizations among the families whom she advised. “Which proves, I think,” Little Mister Kissy Lips had explained one day after school to his friend Jack, “that a murder doesn’t have to be of someone famous to be a form of idealism.” But of course idealism was only half the story: the other half was curiosity. And beyond idealism and curiosity there was probably even another half, the basic childhood need to grow up and kill someone.

207, 2nd Floor, 3rd Main Rd, Chamrajpet, Bengaluru, Karnataka 560018 Call – +91 7022122121 Kannada Books Purchase: Veeraloka Books: Discover the World of Literature At the heart of Karnataka's vibrant literary tradition are its rich cultural heritage and nothing better exemplifies that than Kannada books. Veeraloka Books is the ideal destination for all of your book needs if you're a fan of Kannada literature, from timeless classics to contemporary works. Veeraloka Books is now a trusted name for book lovers looking to add to their Kannada collection Why shop for Kannada books from Veeraloka Books? Veeraloka Books is more than just a bookstore; it is also a point of entry into the vast realm of Kannada literature. Veeraloka Books caters to every kind of reader, whether you're just starting out or have a long history of reading. Veeraloka Books ought to be your first choice for Kannada books for the following reasons: Complete Collection: The selection of Kannada books offered by Veeraloka Books spans genres. The collection is intended to appeal to a wide range of readers' preferences and includes everything from children's books and biographies to short stories, essays, poetry, and historical narratives. Famous Authors: Investigate the works of Kannada literary icons like Da and Kuvempu. Ra. Bendre, K. Shivaram Karanth, and U.R. Ananthamurthy, as well as contemporary authors who are influencing contemporary Kannada literature, are all examples. Veeraloka Books guarantees that you will have access to the best works by contemporary and established authors. Special Editions: Rare and exclusive limited-edition prints of classic Kannada books are frequently available at Veeraloka Books. Veeraloka is a treasure trove for bibliophiles who value one-of-a-kind editions. Cost-effective Pricing: Veeraloka Books makes sure that readers don't have to give up quality for price when purchasing Kannada books. You won't have to break the bank to build your own personal library thanks to low prices and frequent sales. Simple Shopping Experience Online: Veeraloka Books has embraced technology to provide a seamless online shopping experience as digital platforms have grown in popularity. From the convenience of your own home, you can browse, select, and Kannada Books Purchase. It has never been easier to buy Kannada books thanks to a website that is easy to use and offers quick delivery options. Top Novel and Fiction Genres to Explore: Immerse yourself in vivid characters and immersive narratives that highlight Kannada culture, history, and society. Poetry: Through timeless poetry collections, discover the splendor of Kannada verse. Motivation and self-help: Leading Kannada authors can serve as sources of guidance and inspiration for personal development and success. Literature for Kids: Engaging tales and folklore from Kannada's long history will enchant your children. Support the Local Literature and Language By selecting Veeraloka Books for your Kannada book purchases, you are not only supporting the Kannada language and its extensive literary heritage. Veeraloka Books is dedicated to distributing regional literature to readers all over the world. In conclusion, Veeraloka Books provides an unparalleled buying experience for Kannada books. It is the ideal location for readers to immerse themselves in the world of Kannada literature due to its extensive collection, reasonable prices, and straightforward online shopping. Veeraloka Books has something for everyone, whether you're looking for contemporary writings or classic novels. Make your way over to Veeraloka Books right now to get lost in the splendor of Kannada literature!

Kannada writing is one of the most seasoned and most extravagant scholarly customs in India, tracing all the way back to north of 1,000 years. Known for its significant narrating and graceful profundity, Kannada authors includes a great many sorts, from exemplary stories to contemporary books, verse, and social discourses. Veera Loka Books praises this heritage by offering an organized assortment of works by eminent Kannada writers, furnishing perusers with admittance to immortal stories and current points of view. Tradition of Kannada Writing Kannada authors has delivered a portion of India's best writers and writers, contributing fundamentally to Indian scholarly legacy. Throughout the long term, Kannada creators have investigated subjects of reasoning, otherworldliness, social change, and individual personality. Works from artists like Pampa, Ranna, and Basavanna mirror the early graceful customs and philosophical idea in Kannada, while present day creators like Kuvempu, U. R. Ananthamurthy, and S. L. Bhyrappa bring complex accounts that dig into society, culture, and the human mind. Veera Loka Books: A Center for Kannada Writing Veera Loka Books is committed to advancing Kannada writing by furnishing perusers with admittance to exemplary and contemporary works by acclaimed Kannada writers. From books and brief tales to verse assortments and youngsters' books, Veera Loka Books offers something for each peruser, encouraging a more profound association with the language and culture of Karnataka. Highlighted Kannada Writers Accessible at Veera Loka Books Kuvempu - Known as Karnataka's most memorable Jnanpith awardee, Kuvempu is commended for his verse and books that reflect profound otherworldliness and human qualities. His works, like Malegalalli Madumagalu and Sri Ramayana Darshanam, are immortal works of art that keep on moving perusers across ages. U. R. Ananthamurthy - A focal figure in present day Kannada writing, Ananthamurthy is famous for his striking stories that question social and social standards. His original Samskara, a significant investigate of standing and conventionality, is a fundamental perused for anybody investigating Kannada writing. S. L. Bhyrappa - Known for his point by point, philosophical narrating, Bhyrappa's books frequently tackle topics of custom, history, and existential inquiries. Works like Parva and Saartha grandstand his scholarly profundity and sharp perceptions of society. Poornachandra Tejaswi - As the child of Kuvempu, Tejaswi cut his own specialty in Kannada writing with works that feature provincial life, nature, and human connections. His books like Karvalo offer a one of a kind viewpoint on life in Karnataka. Vaidehi - A main female voice in Kannada writing, Vaidehi's accounts are praised for their responsiveness, particularly in portraying ladies' encounters. Her works point out the subtleties of daily existence and social issues, making them interesting and powerful. Why Pick Veera Loka Books? Veera Loka Books is in excess of a book shop - it's a stage to encounter the best of Kannada writing. By offering works from observed Kannada writers, Veera Loka Books assists perusers with interfacing with their social roots, find novel thoughts, and appreciate enthralling stories. Whether you're a long lasting peruser or new to Kannada writing, Veera Loka Books gives the ideal choice to begin or develop your excursion into this lively scholarly custom. Investigate the huge universe of Kannada writing with Veera Loka Books and drench yourself in stories that mirror the essence of Karnataka.

my watch and see that Derek’s going to be on in twenty-five minutes. Crap. Time totally got away from me. I want to talk to him someplace private, but then maybe right before he goes on stage isn’t the best time to declare my undying love and, more importantly, for me to try to gauge his reactions. My phone vibrates. It’s Melody. I glance at the message. Mel: Need to talk 2 u. Me: Got a show coming up. Mel: Call. Please. I think about how many times Melody’s been there for me, and I shake my head as I press her speed dial number. When she answers she sounds frazzled. “Thank God. Can you talk?” she blurts.

The thing you’re afraid of, the thing you want to hide, the thing mainstream markets can’t understand, the thing that won’t sell: that is your best thing, and it will make you a writer.

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.

That stupid intercom was only one model removed from a string and two cans, it had been here so long no one knew where it came from, how it got installed and our best technician couldn’t fix it.  The only station that came in loud and clear was the CO’s office and you couldn’t reply to anyone. 

I had the best view on the whole ship.  Well, maybe not the best view; the Admiral has the unobstructed view from his chair on the port side (left side) of the Admiral’s Bridge, or Flag Bridge.  So, from my position standing behind his chair and looking directly over his shoulder, I figured I had the next best view.

In 1976, to rank George Washington above all other U.S. officers, Congress gave him the posthumous promotion of “General of the Armies of the United States,” a grade equivalent to a six-star general.

pump in one's home, year round, for free. [Complete descriptive copies of U.S. patents are $3.00 each from the U.S. Patent Office, 2021 Jefferson Davis Hwy, Arlington, VA 22202; correct 7 digit patent number required.]           According to Oliver Nichelson, who has made extensive studies of Tesla and free energy machines, the device that, at first, seems to best fit Tesla’s claims

Veeraloka Book House - A Center point of Kannada Writing 207, 2nd Floor, 3rd Main Rd, Chamrajpet, Bengaluru, Karnataka 560018 Call – +91 7022122121 Veeraloka kannada bookshop is a famous objective for admirers of Kannada writing, known for its rich assortment and commitment to advancing territorial works. Arranged in the core of Karnataka, this notable bookshop fills in as a social guide, offering perusers admittance to probably the best works in Kannada writing. Whether you're an enthusiastic peruser, an understudy, or a specialist, Veeraloka Book House has turned into the go-to put for anybody looking for quality Kannada books. A Tradition of Kannada Writing Veeraloka Book House was established with the mission of safeguarding and advancing Kannada writing. Throughout the long term, it has become something other than a bookshop — it has transformed into a social establishment. The book shop invests heavily in being one of only a handful of exceptional spots where one can track down uncommon and exemplary works, contemporary books, and instructive materials across the board place. It has contributed altogether to supporting the Kannada language by making writing open to perusers of any age and foundations. A Tremendous Assortment One of the greatest draws of Veeraloka Book House is its broad assortment of books. The shop brags a wide cluster types, including verse, books, verifiable works, life stories, expositions, and examination materials. From the compositions of antiquated Kannada artists like Pampa and Ranna to current creators like Kuvempu, U.R. Ananthamurthy, and Girish Karnad, Veeraloka Book House takes care of a wide range of scholarly preferences. Other than writing, the shop additionally offers reading material, scholarly works, youngsters' writing, and books on way of thinking, otherworldliness, and self-advancement. This guarantees that the bookshop isn't just for easygoing perusers yet in addition for researchers and understudies looking for information on a large number of subjects. Support for Arising Scholars Veeraloka Book House has likewise turned into a stage for maturing writers. The book shop frequently has book dispatches, verse readings, and scholarly conversations, offering new essayists a chance to introduce their work to a more extensive crowd. This has made the bookshop a huge piece of Karnataka's scholarly biological system. By supporting arising creators, it guarantees that the fate of Kannada writing keeps on thriving. Local area Commitment and Occasions Aside from being a spot for purchasing books, Veeraloka kannada bookshop assumes a vital part in drawing in with the neighborhood local area. The book shop oftentimes arranges scholarly occasions, studios, and conversations, welcoming perusers, authors, and learned people to share their adoration for Kannada writing. These occasions advance perusing as well as encourage a feeling of social character and pride among Kannada speakers. Online Presence With regards to present day patterns, Veeraloka kannada bookshop has embraced the computerized world by making its assortment accessible on the web. This permits Kannada perusers from across the globe to get to their number one books with only a couple of snaps. The web-based entry is easy to understand and gives definite portrayals of each book, guaranteeing that clients have a simple and consistent shopping experience. End Veeraloka Book House is something other than a book shop; it is an image of Karnataka's rich scholarly legacy. With its wide assortment, support for arising essayists, and profound commitment with the local area, the shop keeps on being a treasured spot for anybody energetic about Kannada writing. Whether you visit face to face or peruse its broad web-based assortment, Veeraloka Book House offers an advancing encounter for all book sweethearts.

I was confident that we could negotiate the rough coral, having done it several times before. But not this time. A coral head knocked off one of the tracks. There we were, helplessly immobilized some fifty to one hundred yards from dry land, unable to go one way or another, inaccessible by boat. My experience with previous track problems assured me that its repair would be at least a two-hour job. Admiral King, at his best, was not an easy-going man. When he understood the situation it took him only a moment to address a few plain words to me -- words not intended to contribute to my long-term peace of mind. Then, without hesitation, he clambered over the side -- starched white uniform and all -- followed by his aide, who was not happy either. They waded ashore to the accompaniment of the admiral's cursing, thumbed a ride to the dock two miles away, and finally made their way back to the Wyoming. Members of the staff told me later that the admiral was still enraged when he boarded the ship, making his feelings known to General Smith loudly and without restraint. The general, in a living disclaimer of his nickname, "Howling Mad," never reproved me.

tc א* Θ 28 l2211 pc sams Or lack υἱοῦ θεοῦ (huiou theou, “son of God”), while virtually all the rest of the witnesses have the words (A ƒ1,13 33 M also have τοῦ [tou] before θεοῦ), so the evidence seems to argue for the authenticity of the words. Most likely, the words were omitted by accident in some witnesses, since the last four words of v. 1, in uncial script, would have looked like this: iu_c_r_u_u_u_q_u_. With all the successive upsilons an accidental deletion is likely. Further, the inclusion of υἱοῦ θεοῦ here finds its complement in 15:39, where the centurion claims that Jesus was υἱὸς θεοῦ (huios theou, “son of God”). Even though א is in general one of the best NT MSS, its testimony is not quite as preeminent in this situation. There are several other instances in which it breaks up chains of genitives ending in ου (cf., e.g., Acts 28:31; Col 2:2; Heb 12:2; Rev 12:14; 15:7; 22:1), showing that there is a significantly higher possibility of accidental scribal omission in a case like this. This christological inclusio parallels both Matthew (“Immanuel…God with us” in 1:23/“I am with you” in 28:20) and John (“the Word was God” in 1:1/“My Lord and my God” in 20:28), probably reflecting nascent christological development and articulation. sn The first verse of Mark’s Gospel appears to function as a title: The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. It is not certain, however, whether Mark intended it to refer to the entire Gospel, to the ministry of John the Baptist, or through the use of the term beginning (ἀρχή, archē) to allude to Genesis 1:1 (in the Greek Bible, LXX). The most likely option is that the statement as a whole is an allusion to Genesis 1:1 and that Mark is saying that with the “good news” of the coming of Christ, God is commencing a “new beginning.

Jack, R U alrite? That was the first text I got from Tom, my best friend. I peeked out from under the comforter to read it, then wrapped the blanket around my head again without replying. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with him right now. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. I just wanted to lie in the dark and pretend I didn’t exist. The cell phone buzzed again. I sighed. I made a little hole, just large enough for my eye, and stared angrily at the phone. I wanted it to realize what it was doing was wrong. That I wanted to be left alone. The phone stared back at me, a small notification light flashing on the top of the device. I picked it up and looked again. R U there? I heard U askd Jasmine 2 the dance! R U crazy??? D: )-:< I wished I was crazy. That would have made everything so much simpler. When I retreated back into my cave this time, I tried putting my pillow on my head too, hoping that it would stop the sound of the phone from cutting into my solitude. I closed my eyes as tightly as I could and tried to wish everything back to normal. That works sometimes in the movies, right? BUZZ BUZZ. “Agh!” I jumped slightly as the phone somehow buzzed even louder this time (how did it do that?) and the pillow flew off my head. Sunlight shone in through the window, blinding me. I squinted and waited for my room to blur into focus. The white walls, my posters of awesome superheroes, my laptop, my guitar… I grumbled as I leaned over and looked at my phone screen again. Wat abt HOLLY? UR GRLFRND? Ppl are sayn she is very upset! I threw the phone down on my bed. It bounced twice and ended up balancing on the edge of the mattress. I didn’t blame Holly. I was also very upset. A few weeks ago, my life had been pretty much perfect. I had the hottest girl in school as my girlfriend, I was a star player on the football team, I had a band that was definitely going to be famous someday soon, and it was all going my way. Now it was all gone, swirling towards disaster. Actually, disaster was a while back. Now things were definitely swirling towards complete chaos. My life was destroyed and I was hiding in my bed. That doesn’t happen in the movies. My phone buzzed again.

Having wasted a lot of time worrying aloud about Apparition, Ron was now struggling to finish a viciously difficult essay for Snape that Harry and Hermione had already completed. Harry fully expected to receive low marks on his, because he had disagreed with Snape on the best way to tackle dementors, but he did not care: Slughorn’s memory was the most important thing to him now. “I’m telling you, the stupid Prince isn’t going to be able to help you with this, Harry!” said Hermione, more loudly. “There’s only one way to force someone to do what you want, and that’s the Imperius Curse, which is illegal —” “Yeah, I know that, thanks,” said Harry, not looking up from the book. “That’s why I’m looking for something different. Dumbledore says Veritaserum won’t do it, but there might be something else, a potion or a spell. . . .” “You’re going about it the wrong way,” said Hermione. “Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says. That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can’t. It’s not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that —” “How d’you spell ‘belligerent’?” said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. “It can’t be B — U — M —” “No, it isn’t,” said Hermione, pulling Ron’s essay toward her. “And ‘augury’ doesn’t begin O — R — G either. What kind of quill are you using?

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Always remember one thing, karma has always to choose the best one in the field of life to let u have the pleasure of all that u really deserve but the 'luck' is the thing - if u r lucky then u will deserve to have the luck but when it fails at somewhere, u pardon yourself saying that my luck wasn't with me. It's all the fate which decides.