Ungifted Quotes

It is amazing that, though I am small and ungifted and barely educated, even I can appreciate the scale of the universe. And from this perch in space, for this moment at least, it seems unimportant whether someone made it, or if it made itself.

Challenge isn't going to come from any curriculum, no matter how hard they make it. It's going to come from life.

If it isn't on YouTube, it might as well have never happened.

The LSD phenomenon, on the other hand, is—to me at least—more interesting. It is an intentionally achieved schizophrenia, with the expectation of a spontaneous remission—which, however, does not always follow. Yoga, too, is intentional schizophrenia: one breaks away from the world, plunging inward, and the ranges of vision experienced are in fact the same as those of a psychosis. But what, then, is the difference? What is the difference between a psychotic or LSD experience and a yogic, or a mystical? The plunges are all into the same deep inward sea; of that there can be no doubt. The symbolic figures encountered are in many instances identical (and I shall have something more to say about those in a moment). But there is an important difference. The difference—to put it sharply—is equivalent simply to that between a diver who can swim and one who cannot. The mystic, endowed with native talents for this sort of thing and following, stage by stage, the instruction of a master, enters the waters and finds he can swim; whereas the schizophrenic, unprepared, unguided, and ungifted, has fallen or has intentionally plunged, and is drowning.

Minimalism is close to mediocrity and mindlessness, a way for the ungifted to have a literary career, and for readers who really hate literature to pretend to be reading something serious.

What do you do,' said Jean, 'with, ah, "ungifted" children when you have them?' 'Cherish them and raise them, you imbecile. Most of them end up working for us, in Karthain and elsewhere. What did you think we'd do, burn them on a pyre?' 'Forget I asked

The test! It was as if they believed the test was an infallible superbeing that had descended to earth on a great space ark surrounded by thunderbolts of perfection.

Marketing is so powerful that it can make even an extremely untalented musician a one-hundred-hits wonder.

most widespread gains in brain training come from programs that simultaneously address multiple aspects of a person, such as traditional martial arts training and enriched school curricula.

Morrell, ever a true comrade, too had a splendid brain. In fact, and I who am about to die have the right to say it without incurring the charge of immodesty, the three best minds in San Quentin from the Warden down were the three that rotted there together in solitary. And here at the end of my days, reviewing all that I have known of life, I am compelled to the conclusion that strong minds are never docile. The stupid men, the fearful men, the men ungifted with passionate rightness and fearless championship - these are the men who make model prisoners. I thank all gods that Jake Oppenheimer, Ed Morrell, and I were not model prisoners.

While standardized tests can certainly be useful for scientifically investigating the mind and brain, and can greatly inform educational interventions, there’s no reason why educators or anyone else for that matter needs to compare the intelligence of one person to another based on a single dimension of human variation.

Our fans are great; our team is nifty! We’re going to get blown out by fifty!

Why? There was no logical explanation for what I did. It had to come from my DNA. That’s why I needed ancestry.com.

We’re all proud of you, Donnie. Your mother and me, Katie—” “Right,” I snorted. “She said I’m dumber than her bladder-challenged dog.

People with learning goals are all about increasing their skills, whereas those with performance goals are all about winning, and looking smart. Because

Hypothesis: Intentional or not, movement to a beat = dancing.

She had short dark hair and dark eyes and brown skin and was possessed of the charm and vivacity often taken on as compensatory characteristics by the ungifted and the plain.

Schultz.

Maybe they were. Very little was beyond Noah’s capabilities when he wasn’t mounting a concerted effort to flunk.

You’re going to break your idiot neck one day, or someone’s going to break it for you.

Great," I groaned when I finally understood what he was telling me. "You're saying I'm a supernatural and I'm still the most pathetic person on the planet?

the knoll

In that moment, I feel the Prophet's canvas ceiling lift away from my head, walls flying off me, and a pressure I've never put into words hisses somewhere at the back of my mind as the size of the universe assembles itself in my mind. If I close my eyes, I can see it, the endlessness beyond my ears, and knowing I'm only in a corner of that vastness doesn't make me feel tiny. It is amazing that, though I am small and ungifted and barely educated, even I can appreciate the scale of the universe. And from this perch in space, for this moment at least, it seems unimportant whether someone made it, or if it made itself.

Hey, things like that happen at the Academy too,” I insisted, almost triumphantly. “Last year the freezers failed so there was no ice for”—the wind went out of my sails as I realized how lame this was going to sound—“the sushi bar.” He nodded sympathetically. “You guys should get T-shirts made. You know: I Survived the Sushi Crisis.

Challenge isn’t going to come from any curriculum, no matter how hard they make it. It’s going to come from life.

There was no logical explanation for what I did. It had to come from my DNA. That’s

Noah stepped forward for a closer look. “If it’s a girl,” he said finally, “then what’s that?” And we could all see exactly what he was pointing at.

The comparison isn't with others; it's with your former and future selves.

We’re gifted,” I explained.

Patience, young grasshopper,” he teased. “Good things come to those who wait.” “How very wise of you,” I teased back. Russ shrugged. “I eat a lot of fortune cookies.

UNIDENTIFIED

Though she was ungifted, she could clearly feel the power of the magic the sword now possessed. It was power unlike anything she ever imagined. It churned the way the storm had. It held more power than the storm had. It was fury and rage and love and life all folded together over and over, blending them into the finest layers of something new, something remarkable. This was now a weapon unlike any other, more than any other.

Poetry lets me pour out my various emotions even the suppressed ones we didn't know exist inside us' til the moment you start jotting down what you're feeling. It's more than an escape into the unknown, a refuge for your creativity and sometimes wild imagination not all ordinary, ungifted people like us understand." -Elizabeth's Quotes

UNEXPLAINED DONOVAN CURTIS IQ: 112

to break

Baraccus had told her that while a number of wizards could make things, the same as the ungifted could make things, it was this component of artistic ability in creating new things that took to to another level and made the makers more than true prophets. Magda remembered the passion in his voice as he told her about such things. Making things was in his soul. Creating new things seemed to be his spark of life.

All he had ever wanted was to tell—in the best possible words, arranged in the best possible order—the stories inside him. He had been more than willing to do the apprenticeship and the work. He had been humble with his teachers and respectful of his peers. He had acceded to the editorial notes of his agent (when he’d had one) and bowed to the red pencil of his editor (when he’d had one) without complaint. He had supported the other writers he’d known and admired (even the ones he hadn’t particularly admired) by attending their readings and actually purchasing their books (in hardcover! at independent bookstores!) and he had acquitted himself as the best teacher, mentor, cheerleader, and editor that he’d known how to be, despite the (to be frank) utter hopelessness of most of the writing he was given to work with. And where had he arrived, for all of that? He was a deck attendant on the Titanic, moving the chairs around with fifteen ungifted prose writers while somehow persuading them that additional work would help them improve.

But Dryden had a poem: "Annus Mirabilis". The year of wonders. It was a poem about England in 1666. England in 1666 was decidedly not having a year of wonders. England in 1666 had war, plague, and a three-day fire that destroyed most of London, plus Issac Newton invented calculus, thereby making the lives of mathematically ungifted students immeasurably worse. But Dryden's poem was about what a great year it was because it could have been worse. They lived to see 1667 after all. At least, everyone who read the poem did.

So, it was ‘the anatomy of a massacre’ – the subtitle of the book he published on the subject in French in 2002 – that he wanted to undertake. How could a human being as uncharismatic, as ungifted, as physically and intellectually unimposing as Jeronimus Cornelisz, subjugate his fellow companions in misfortune, take control of their souls and inspire in them fear, and even devotion? How could a community that had the advantage of numbers and of being galvanised by the energy of despair accept the yoke of this petty tyrant and the henchmen he recruited from among them? Why did people resign themselves to being persecuted and let themselves be systematically massacred?

cocky

You’re going to break your idiot neck one day, or someone’s going to break it for you.” My dad. He was probably right. They were all right. But when the thing is right there in front of me, and I can kick it, grab it, shout it out, jump into it, paint it, launch it, or light it on fire, it’s like I’m a puppet on a string, powerless to resist. I don’t think; I do. It can be little things, like throwing darts at a pool float to test my sister’s swimming skills, or spitting back at the llamas at the zoo. It can be more creative—a helium balloon, a fishhook, and Uncle Mark’s toupee. It can even be the smart-alecky comments that got me voted Most Likely to Wind Up in Jail in my middle school the last two years running.

want a refund from ancestry.com. They traced my family all the way back to the revolution. And in all those forefathers and foremothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins, there was nobody like me.

You’re going to break your idiot neck one day, or someone’s going to break it for you.” My dad.

sex

everybody else thought it was there because it was supposed

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