W A R Quotes

When given the choice between being right or being kind, choose kind. - Dr Wayne W. Dyer

W:"At least I'm not pussy-whipped!" T:"Nice. Fucking. Suit." --Wrath to Tohr

OkayIwaswrong. Now let’s move on. Where do you think would be the best place for the angels to stay until they leave?” “Whoa.” I burst out laughing. “Did you just say that you were wrong? Was that the word? Wrong?” I smile at him. “I like the sound of that coming out of your mouth. It’s lyrical. W-r-o-n-g. Wroooong. Wrrrrong. Go on, sing it with me.

Time is a river...and books are boats. Many volumes start down that stream, only to be wrecked and lost beyond recall in its sands. Only a few, a very few, endure the testings of time and live to bless the ages following.

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs. B is for Basil assaulted by bears. C is for Clara who wasted away. D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh. E is for Ernest who choked on a peach. F is for Fanny sucked dry by a leech. G is for George smothered under a rug. H is for Hector done in by a thug. I is for Ida who drowned in a lake. J is for James who took lye by mistake. K is for Kate who was struck with an axe. L is for Leo who choked on some tacks. M is for Maud who was swept out to sea. N is for Neville who died of ennui. O is for Olive run through with an awl. P is for Prue trampled flat in a brawl. Q is for Quentin who sank on a mire. R is for Rhoda consumed by a fire. S is for Susan who perished of fits. T is for Titus who flew into bits. U is for Una who slipped down a drain. V is for Victor squashed under a train. W is for Winnie embedded in ice. X is for Xerxes devoured by mice. Y is for Yorick whose head was bashed in. Z is for Zillah who drank too much gin.

GUESS WHERE I AM. CLUE? she texted back SWEAR U WON'T TELL A SOUL? U HAVE 2 ASK? I reluctantly texted,@ DINNER W. MARCIE'S DAD. #?@#$?!& MY MOM IS DATING HIM. TRAITOR! IF THEY GET MARRIED, U & MARCIE... COULD USE A LITTLE CONSOLATION HERE! DOES HE KNOW UR TEXTING ME? Vee asked . NO. THEY R INSIDE. I'M IN THE PARKING LOT ----COOPERSMITHS. THE PIMP. 2 GOOD 4 APPLEBEE'S, I SEE. I'M GOING 2 ORDER THE MOST EXPENSIVE THINGS ON THE MENU. IF ALL GOES WELL,HIM GOING TO THROW HANK'S DRINK IN HIS FACE 2.

The rEaL wOrLd is but a fictional place where those who have narrow minds and shallow imagination compile their oppressive ideas of what rEaLiTy only should be.

We must be global Christians with a global vision because our God is a global God.

I care for you, darling, I love you, the only reason I fucked L. is because you fucked Z. and then I fucked R. and you fucked N. and because you fucked N. I had to fuck Y. But I think of you constantly, I feel you here in my belly like a baby, love I'd call it, no matter what happens I'd call it love, and so you fucked C. and then before I could move you fucked W., so I had to fuck D. But I want you to know that I love you, I think of you constantly, I don't think I've ever loved anybody like I love you.

In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?

The Message of Mohammad is not a set of metaphysical phenomena. It is a complete civilization.

Loving you has been worse than an addiction to drugs. At least I don't have the drugs c r a w l i n g into my bed at night.

Former police chief of Houston once said of me: “Frank Abagnale could write a check on toilet paper, drawn on the Confederate States Treasury, sign it ‘U.R. Hooked’ and cash it at any bank in town, using a Hong Kong driver’s license for identification.

No alcohol, Riley." She nodded at the screen. "How are you liking the twenty-first century?" Riley burped. "The Take That are most melodic. And God bless Harry Potter is all I can say. If not for him, all of London would have been consumed by the dark arts.

I met a lot of things on the way that astonished me. Tom Bombadil I knew already; but I had never been to Bree. Strider sitting in the corner at the inn was a shock, and I had no more idea who he was than had Frodo. The Mines of Moria had been a mere name; and of Lothloriene no word had reached my mortal ears till I came there. Far away I knew there were the Horselords on the confines of an ancient Kingdom of Men, but Fanghorn Forest was an unforeseen adventure. I had never heard of the House of Eorl nor of the Stewards of Gondor. Most disquieting of all, Saruman had never been revealed to me, and I was as mystefied as Frodo at Gandalf's failure to appear on September 22. J.R.R. Tolkien, in a letter to W.H. Auden, June 7, 1955

Christianity is not just about what we believe; it’s also about how we behave.

[W]isdom is the child of integrity—being integrated around principles. And integrity is the child of humility and courage. In fact, you could say that humility is the mother of all virtues because humility acknowledges that there are natural laws or principles that govern the universe. They are in charge. Pride teaches us that we are in charge. Humility teaches us to understand and live by principles, because they ultimately govern the consequences of our actions. If humility is the mother, courage is the father of wisdom. Because to truly live by these principles when they are contrary to social mores, norms and values takes enormous courage.

If you wanted to go on from the end of The Hobbit I think the ring would be your inevitable choice as the link. If then you wanted a large tale, the Ring would at once acquire a capital letter; and the Dark Lord would immediately appear. As he did, unasked, on the hearth at Bag End as soon as I came to that point. So the essential Quest started at once. But I met a lot of things along the way that astonished me. Tom Bombadil I knew already; but I had never been to Bree. Strider sitting in the corner of the inn was a shock, and I had no more idea who he was than Frodo did. The Mines of Moria had been a mere name; and of Lothlorien no word had reached my mortal ears till I came there. -- (J.R.R. Tolkien to W.H. Auden, June 7, 1955.)

Many people visualize a God who sits comfortably on a distant throne, remote, aloof, uninterested, and indifferent to the needs of mortals, until, it may be, they can badger him into taking action on their behalf. Such a view is wholly false. The Bible reveals a God who, long before it even occurs to man to turn to him, while man is still lost in darkness and sunk in sin, takes the initiative, rises from his throne, lays aside his glory, and stoops to seek until he finds him.

W- Work of Art A- Achiever R- Resilient R- Radical I- Independent O- Organized R- Resourceful

Perhaps the transformation of the disciples of Jesus is the greatest evidence of all for the resurrection.

If the pen really is mightier than the sword then you guys better watch out, because I wrote my whole 700,000 w0rd trilogy in longhand!

Who delivered up Jesus to die? Not Judas, for money; not Pilate, for fear; not the Jews, for envy;—but the Father, for love!’181

If the Holy Spirit was withdrawn from the church today, 95 percent of what we do would go on and no one would know the difference. —A. W. TOZER (1897–1963)

How to "change the world" in two words: S.T.A.R.T. N.O.W. 1. START - Serve. Thank. Ask. Receive. Trust. 2. NOW - No Opportunity Wasted

If it came to a choice of being loved without respect or respected and not loved, I wanted to be respected. And JinYeong promised both.

My work is the art I paint on the canvas of my life. Hopefully I'm creating a masterpiece.

Nothing is ever set in stone, and the beasts we create with our harmful choices will certainly come back to bite us.

What you are, comes to you.

Intelligence is that faculty of mind by which order is perceived in a situation previously considered disordered.” —R. W. Young

Life for dreamers may not be easy, but it beats drifting. You never know where you'll end up drifting, maybe someplace good, maybe not." - L. R. W. Lee

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

incredible," Jason said. "these r really good brownies." "That's your only comment?" piper demanded. he looked surprised. "what? I heard the story. fish- centaurs. merpeople. letter of intro to the tiber river god. got it. But these brownies-" "I know," Frank said, his mouth full. "try them w esther's peach preserves." "that," hazel said, "is incredibly disgusting." "pass me the jar, man," jason said. hazel and piper exchanged a look of total exasperation. BOYS.

Tony:...but you need something to do about Noah. Paul: I know, I know. The only problem being that (a) he thinks I'm getting back with my ex-boyfriend, (b) he thinks I'll only hurt him, because (c) I've already hurt him and (d) someone else has already hurt him, which means that I'm hurting him even more. So (e) he doesn't trust me, and in all fairness, (g) every time I see him, I (h) want everything to be right again and I (i) want to kiss him madly. This means that (j) my feelings aren't going away anytime soon, but (k) his feelings don't look likely to budge, either. So either (l) I'm out of luck, (m) I'm out of hope, or (n) there's a way to make it up to him that I'm not thinking of. I could (o) beg, (p) plead, (q) grovel, or (r) give up. But, in order to do that, I would have to sacrifice my (s) pride, (t) reputation, and (u) self-respect, even though (v) I have very little of them left and (w) it probably wouldn't work anyway. As a result, I am (x) lost, (y) clue-free, and (z) wondering if you have any idea whatsoever what I should do.

It is when we begin to see the gravity of sin and the majesty of God that our questions change. No longer do we ask why God finds it difficult to forgive sins, but how he finds it possible.

The psychoanalyst W. R. Bion came up with the term containment to describe a mother’s ability to manage her baby’s pain. Remember, babyhood is not a time of bliss; it’s one of terror. As babies we are trapped in a strange, alien world, unable to see properly, constantly surprised at our bodies, alarmed by hunger and wind and bowel movements, overwhelmed by our feelings. We are quite literally under attack. We need our mother to soothe our distress and make sense of our experience. As she does so, we slowly learn how to manage our physical and emotional states on our own. But our ability to contain ourselves directly depends on our mother’s ability to contain us—if she had never experienced containment by her own mother, how could she teach us what she did not know? Someone who has never learned to contain himself is plagued by anxious feelings for the rest of his life, feelings that Bion aptly titled nameless dread. Such a person endlessly seeks this unquenchable containment from external sources—he needs a drink or a joint to “take the edge off” this endless anxiety. Hence my addiction to marijuana.

R," Elizabeth breathed. "For what? Rheumatism? Retinue? Richard the Third?" The planchette continued to move, torward the O. "Romantic? It's going to tell us our husband's name! Or else...rotund." She paused. "Is it calling us fat?" W. "Someone's going to have a row?

Jesus never concealed the fact that his religion included a demand as well as an offer. Indeed, the demand was as total as the offer was free. If he offered men his salvation, he also demanded their submission. He gave no encouragement whatever to thoughtless applicants for discipleship. He brought no pressure to bear on any inquirer. He sent irresponsible enthusiasts away empty. Luke tells of three men who either volunteered, or were invited, to follow Jesus; but no one passed the Lord’s test. The rich young ruler, too, moral, earnest and attractive, who wanted eternal life on his own terms, went away sorrowful, with his riches intact but with neither life nor Christ as his possession…The Christian landscape is strewn with the wreckage of derelict, half built towers—the ruins of those who began to build and were unable to finish. For thousands of people still ignore Christ’s warning and undertake to follow him without first pausing to reflect on the cost of doing so. The result is the great scandal of Christendom today, so called “nominal Christianity.” In countries to which Christian civilization has spread, large numbers of people have covered themselves with a decent, but thin, veneer of Christianity. They have allowed themselves to become somewhat involved, enough to be respectable but not enough to be uncomfortable. Their religion is a great, soft cushion. It protects them from the hard unpleasantness of life, while changing its place and shape to suit their convenience. No wonder the cynics speak of hypocrites in the church and dismiss religion as escapism…The message of Jesus was very different. He never lowered his standards or modified his conditions to make his call more readily acceptable. He asked his first disciples, and he has asked every disciple since, to give him their thoughtful and total commitment. Nothing less than this will do

The astonishing paradox of Christ's teaching and of Christian experience is this: if we lose ourselves in following Christ, we actually find ourselves. True self-denial is self-discovery. To live for ourselves is insanity and suicide; to live for God and for man is wisdom and life indeed. We do not begin to find ourselves until we have become willing to lose ourselves in the service of Christ and of our fellows.

The glory of fiction is in its falseness, but the impact of fiction is found in its painful reality.

election of the President (CRP) ALEXANDER P. BUTTERFIELD Deputy Assistant to the President; aide to H. R. Haldeman JOHN J. CAULFIELD Staff aide to John Ehrlichman DWIGHT L. CHAPIN Deputy Assistant to the President; appointments secretary KENNETH W. CLAWSON Deputy Director of

GC: M4YB3 M4YB3 M4YB3 GC: M4YB3 M4YB3 1S 4 STUP1D WORD GC: M4YB3 TH4TS TH3 B1G M4YB3 W3 SHOULD 4LL POND3R TON1GHT GC: OV3R SOM3 HOT SHUT TH3 H3LL UP T34 GC: SO YOU TH1NK 1M S4VVY?? >:]

Self-denial is not denying to ourselves luxuries such as chocolates, cakes, cigarettes and cocktails (although it might include this); it is actually denying or disowning ourselves, renouncing our supposed right to go our own way.

Best for best.

Dare to bare?

The gift of singleness is more a vocation than an empowerment, although to be sure God is faithful in supporting those He calls.

Yes, the monsters were real. Are real. There are creatures in this world that exist beyond the scope of what you know and see. Remember, not all are created equal. Some are better…and worse than others…just like humans.

Christianity is a religion of salvation, and the fact is that there is nothing in any of the non-Christian religions to compare with this message of a God who loved, and came after, and died for, a world of lost sinners.

Punching - 2 shillings Both eyes blacked - 4 shillings Nose and jaw broke - 10 shillings Jacked out (knocked out with a blackjack) - 15 shillings Ear chewed off - same as previous Leg or arm broke - 19 shillings Shot in leg - 25 shillings Stab - same as previous Doing the Big Job - 3 pounds and up

what was the point in being supposedly more intelligent or stronger than humans when there was no kindness or compassion with it? What was better about being more intelligent if you were also more cruel? What was the point in being more logical and unemotional if that just made you a psychopath?

You don’t have a monopoly on pain or loss. It’s a level playing field—we all lose—we all grieve. It’s what remains afterwards that defines us. Guilt is the poison we pump into our own veins. It’s self-inflicted torture.

Your call is clear, cold centuries across; You bid me follow you, and take my cross, And daily lose myself, myself deny, And stern against myself shout ‘Crucify’. My stubborn nature rises to rebel Against your call. Proud choruses of hell Unite to magnify my restless hate Of servitude, lest I capitulate. The world, to see my cross, would pause and jeer. I have no choice, but still to persevere To save myself – and follow you from far, More slow than Magi-for I have no star. And yet you call me still. Your cross Eclipses mine, transforms the bitter loss I thought that I would suffer if I came To you- into immeasurable gain. I kneel before you, Jesus, crucified, My cross is shouldered and my self denied; I’ll follow daily, closely, not refuse For love of you and man myself to lose.

Wisdom or oblivion - take your choice. From that warfare there is no release.

Other world! There is no other world! Here or nowhere is the whole fact.

If it only depends on your point of view, what's actually the truth?

Eurion wrinkled his nose and went behind the curtain again. “I think you’re beautiful, Lady,” he called back to her. “So you should think I’m handsome.

Conner looking at the text he sent Jeff the night before: 8:42pm..Reed:Need you to go to Denver w me. 8:46pm..Jeff: in meeting. give me 1 hr. 8:53pm..Reed: no can do. want wife back. going now. think i cn talk her into it wth sperm. Hell.Please don't let him have called her. 8:53pm..Jeff: R U drinking? 8:55pm..Reed: have wht she wants. solllid plan. better than hers. 8:56pm..Jeff: leaving now. wait 4 me. 9:02pm..Reed: don't worry botu it. 9:02pm..Jeff: WAIT 4 ME. 9:04pm..Jeff: PICKUP YOU PHONE 9:57pm..Jeff: you should stop for drink @ that bar in terminal with the big olives b4 flight. 10:22pm..Reed: hey, UR at the bar. you look pissed.

The Christian message has a moral challenge. If the message is true, the moral challenge has to be accepted. So God is not a fit object for man’s detached scrutiny. You cannot fix God at the end of a telescope or a microscope and say “How interesting!” God is not interesting. He is deeply upsetting. The same is true of Jesus Christ … We know that to find God and to accept Jesus Christ would be a very inconvenient experience. It would involve the rethinking of our whole outlook on life and the readjustment of our whole manner of life. And it is a combination of intellectual and moral cowardice which makes us hesitate. We do not find because we do not seek. We do not seek because we do not want to find, and we know that the way to be certain of not finding is not to seek … Christ’s promise is plain: "Seek and you will find.

This computer-generated pangram contains six a's, one b, three c's, three d's, thirty-seven e's, six f's, three g's, nine h's, twelve i's, one j, one k, two l's, three m's, twenty-two n's, thirteen o's, three p's, one q, fourteen r's, twenty-nine s's, twenty-four t's, five u's, six v's, seven w's, four x's, five y's, and one z.

The very first step to becoming a follower of Jesus Christ is the humble admission that we need him. Nothing keeps us out of the kingdom of God more surely than our pride and self-sufficiency.

We may wish, indeed,’ wrote C. S. Lewis, ‘that we were of so little account to God that he left us alone to follow our natural impulses – that he would give over trying to train us into something so unlike our natural selves: but once again, we are asking not for more love, but for less....To ask that God’s love should be content with us as we are is to ask that God should cease to be God....

In the meantime, prominent British pastor John R. W. Stott, who acknowledged that suffering is “the single greatest challenge to the Christian faith,” has reached his own conclusion: I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. . . . In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in God-forsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our sufferings become more manageable in light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross which symbolizes divine suffering. ‘The cross of Christ . . . is God’s only self-justification in such a world’ as ours.25

Insistence on security is incompatible with the way of the cross. What daring adventures the incarnation and the atonement were! What a breach of convention and decorum that Almighty God should renounce his privileges in order to take human flesh and bear human sin! Jesus had no security except in his Father. So to follow Jesus is always to accept at least a measure of uncertainty, danger and rejection for his sake.

A. W. Tozer says, "A true and safe leader is likely one who has no desire to lead, but is forced into a position of leadership by the inward pressure of the Holy Spirit and by the press of the external situation.

I need to say something. Take it anyway you like,” Ian stated, his eyes boring into hers with a fervor that left her holding her breath. Elaine started to shake her head. “Look, we just met…you don’t need to say…” His deep, cultured voice interrupted her. “Everything you are, Laney, resides in your eyes. I need to see you—all of you. Don’t take that from me while I’m still here. Please.” Tears welled. “You don’t even know me,” she whispered. “How can you say that?” “Because I think I do know you—I just haven’t figured out how.

Human beings are comfortable with what is outward, visible, material and superficial. What matters to God is a deep, inward, secret work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts.

Grief—in all of its agony—burrowed deep into her essence, its serrated edges killing her piece by piece.

She was interesting in a cockatrice kind of way: alien and very, very deadly.

You make time for what is important to you." - Glaucin

You control whether you are happy. It's all your narrative and you can change it if you choose to." - L. R. W. Lee Andy Smithson: Blast of the Dragon's Fury

If we claim to be Christian, we must be like Christ.

God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible—what a pity that we plan only the things we can do by ourselves. —A.W. TOZER

I believe one should never invalidate another, even if you don't agree. No one is ever 100% right or 100% wrong. There is always some measure of truth on both sides." - L. R. W. Lee

Serial murders are a bit like natural disasters: in the scheme of things they are quite rare, but when they happen they demand our attention. They interest us for several reasons, but especially because they are so dramatically threatening, and they profoundly challenge our sense of our own everyday safety. [Todd R. Clear, Foreword]

And then I felt him. My only anchor in this storm, my only path back. One hand grabbed my shoulder and held me firmly in place. The other banished the air driving the monster. As suddenly as the whirlwind started, it died, and I collapsed. Kovis caught me in his arms.

We will be able to depart this life with the quiet peace-giving notion, that we were permitted to contribute to the happiness of many who will live after us. In our long lives we endeavored to unfold the collective consciousness. In our lives we have known hell and heaven; the final balance, however, is that we helped pave the way to dynamic harmony in this earthly house. That, I believe, is the meaning of life.

Grandma smiled brightly. “How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived.” Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot. A&E women scorned, here I come. “Excuse me?” Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn’t good. Not good at all. Grandma reached out and patted Aileen’s arm. “Sweetheart, I’m the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?” She nudged Jake. “What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?” And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. “W-H-O-R-E.

The fundamental metaphor of National Socialism as it related to the world around it was the garden, not the wild forest. One of the most important Nazi ideologists, R.W. Darré, made clear the relationship between gardening and genocide: “He who leaves the plants in a garden to themselves will soon find to his surprise that the garden is overgrown by weeds and that even the basic character of the plants has changed. If therefore the garden is to remain the breeding ground for the plants, if, in other words, it is to lift itself above the harsh rule of natural forces, then the forming will of a gardener is necessary, a gardener who, by providing suitable conditions for growing, or by keeping harmful influences away, or by both together, carefully tends what needs tending and ruthlessly eliminates the weeds which would deprive the better plants of nutrition, air, light, and sun. . . . Thus we are facing the realization that questions of breeding are not trivial for political thought, but that they have to be at the center of all considerations, and that their answers must follow from the spiritual, from the ideological attitude of a people. We must even assert that a people can only reach spiritual and moral equilibrium if a well-conceived breeding plan stands at the very center of its culture.

The New Testament uses five main Greek words for sin, which together portray its various aspects, both passive and active. The commonest is hamartia, which depicts sin as a missing of the target, the failure to attain a goal. Adikia is ‘unrighteousness’ or ‘iniquity’, and ponēria is evil of a vicious or degenerate kind. Both these terms seem to speak of an inward corruption or perversion of character. The more active words are parabasis (with which we may associate the similar paraptōma), a ‘trespass’ or ‘transgression’, the stepping over a known boundary, and anomia, ‘lawlessness’, the disregard or violation of a known law. In each case an objective criterion is implied, either a standard we fail to reach or a line we deliberately cross.

CAPT. J. W. SIMMONS, master of the steamship Pensacola, had just as little regard for weather as the Louisiana’s Captain Halsey. He was a veteran of eight hundred trips across the Gulf and commanded a staunch and sturdy ship, a 1,069-ton steel-hulled screw-driven steam freighter built twelve years earlier in West Hartlepool, England, and now owned by the Louisville and Nashville Railroad Company. Friday morning the ship was docked at the north end of 34th Street, in the company of scores of other ships, including the big Mallory liner Alamo, at 2,237 tons, and the usual large complement of British ships, which on Friday included the Comino, Hilarius, Kendal Castle, Mexican, Norna, Red Cross, Taunton, and the stately Roma in from Boston with its Captain Storms. As the Pensacola’s twenty-one-man crew readied the ship for its voyage to the city of Pensacola on Florida’s Gulf Coast, two men came aboard as Captain Simmons’s personal guests: a harbor pilot named R. T. Carroll and Galveston’s Pilot Commissioner J. M. O. Menard, from one of the city’s oldest families. At

Even the excruciating pain could not silence his repeated entreaties: ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’ The soldiers gambled for his clothes. Some women stood afar off. The crowd remained a while to watch. Jesus commended his mother to John’s care and John to hers. He spoke words of kingly assurance to the penitent criminal crucified at his side. Meanwhile, the rulers sneered at him, shouting: ‘He saved others, but he can’t save himself!’ Their words, spoken as an insult, were the literal truth. He could not save himself and others simultaneously. He chose to sacrifice himself in order to save the world.

Sì, maybe I should consult Viktor. Niccolo pulled his phone from his pocket. His fingers jabbed at the miniature text pad with frustration: H asked me 2 break 1 of my rules, then I should sleep w/ her. Yes? Niccolo hit send. Viktor responded immediately: U mean sexting. right? Niccolo: Sexting? Viktor: Sex+texting. Niccolo: Idiot. real sex. Viktor: Dumbass! Then u lose chance 4 freedom. Niccolo: Have lost it already. I think. Viktor: K, then tell her who U R instead, ass.

You must think I’m an idiot,” I said. “That thing isn’t JinYeong, and if you think I’m gunna hold back from blasting it so far Behind that it wakes up back-to-front just because it has JinYeong’s annoying little face, I’ve got some news for you.

All Christian preachers have to face this issue. Either we preach that human beings are rebels against God, under his just judgment and (if left to themselves) lost, and that Christ crucified who bore their sin and curse is the only available Saviour. Or we emphasize human potential and human ability, with Christ brought in only to boost them, and with no necessity for the cross except to exhibit God’s love and so inspire us to greater endeavour. The former is the way to be faithful, the latter the way to be popular. It is not possible to be faithful and popular simultaneously.

The truly transformative power of language occurs when these descriptive root terms are used to form words that convey abstract concepts. A three-letter root compound used to name the spine (Q-W-M) is adapted to describe “flexibility.” The root term for a heated pot boiling over (Gh-Dh-B) constructs a word meaning “hot-headed.” A root term describing the process of carefully separating grains (D-R-S) evolves to express “analyzing” or “interpreting.” From physical sources emerge words for the intangible, like the Qur’an’s parable of the healthy tree with roots anchored in the ground while branches stretch toward the heavens.

Take courage. You do not yet see your own abilities because you have never been tested. You have never demonstrated to yourself or anyone all that you can do. Put your fears aside and trust that you can succeed in the challenges that lie ahead." - King Hercalon IV, Former King of Oomaldee

American feminism is currently dominated by a group of wome n wh o seek to persuad e the public that American wome n are not the free creatures we thin k w e are. Th e leaders an d theorists of the women's movemen t believe that ou r society is best described as a patriarchy, a "male hegemony," a "sex/gender system" in whic h the dominan t gender works to keep wome n cowering an d submissive. The feminists wh o hold this divisive view of ou r social an d political reality believe we are in a gender war, an d they are eager to disseminate stories of atrocity that are designed to alert wome n to their plight. Th e "gender feminists" (as I shall call them) believe that all ou r institutions, from the state to the family to the grade schools, perpetuate male dominance . Believing that wome n are virtually under siege, gende r feminists naturally seek recruits to their side of the gender war. They seek support . They seek vindication. They seek ammunition.

The psychoanalyst W. R. Bion came up with the term containment to describe a mother’s ability to manage her baby’s pain. Remember, babyhood is not a time of bliss; it’s one of terror. As babies we are trapped in a strange, alien world, unable to see properly, constantly surprised at our bodies, alarmed by hunger and wind and bowel movements, overwhelmed by our feelings. We are quite literally under attack.

The most significant factor lies elsewhere, and it is on this that I intend to concentrate in this first chapter. Why I am a Christian is due ultimately neither to the influence of my parents and teachers, nor to my own personal decision for Christ, but to ‘the Hound of Heaven’. That is, it is due to Jesus Christ himself, who pursued me relentlessly even when I was running away from him in order to go my own way. And if it were not for the gracious pursuit of the Hound of Heaven I would today be on the scrap-heap of wasted and discarded lives.

For now, the Simple Daily Practice means doing ONE thing every day. Try any one of these things each day: A) Sleep eight hours. B) Eat two meals instead of three. C) No TV. D) No junk food. E) No complaining for one whole day. F) No gossip. G) Return an e-mail from five years ago. H) Express thanks to a friend. I) Watch a funny movie or a stand-up comic. J) Write down a list of ideas. The ideas can be about anything. K) Read a spiritual text. Any one that is inspirational to you. The Bible, The Tao te Ching, anything you want. L) Say to yourself when you wake up, “I’m going to save a life today.” Keep an eye out for that life you can save. M) Take up a hobby. Don’t say you don’t have time. Learn the piano. Take chess lessons. Do stand-up comedy. Write a novel. Do something that takes you out of your current rhythm. N) Write down your entire schedule. The schedule you do every day. Cross out one item and don’t do that anymore. O) Surprise someone. P) Think of ten people you are grateful for. Q) Forgive someone. You don’t have to tell them. Just write it down on a piece of paper and burn the paper. It turns out this has the same effect in terms of releasing oxytocin in the brain as actually forgiving them in person. R) Take the stairs instead of the elevator. S) I’m going to steal this next one from the 1970s pop psychology book Don’t Say Yes When You Want to Say No: when you find yourself thinking of that special someone who is causing you grief, think very quietly, “No.” If you think of him and (or?) her again, think loudly, “No!” Again? Whisper, “No!” Again, say it. Louder. Yell it. Louder. And so on. T) Tell someone every day that you love them. U) Don’t have sex with someone you don’t love. V) Shower. Scrub. Clean the toxins off your body. W) Read a chapter in a biography about someone who is an inspiration to you. X) Make plans to spend time with a friend. Y) If you think, “Everything would be better off if I were dead,” then think, “That’s really cool. Now I can do anything I want and I can postpone this thought for a while, maybe even a few months.” Because what does it matter now? The planet might not even be around in a few months. Who knows what could happen with all these solar flares. You know the ones I’m talking about. Z) Deep breathing. When the vagus nerve is inflamed, your breathing becomes shallower. Your breath becomes quick. It’s fight-or-flight time! You are panicking. Stop it! Breathe deep. Let me tell you something: most people think “yoga” is all those exercises where people are standing upside down and doing weird things. In the Yoga Sutras, written in 300 B.C., there are 196 lines divided into four chapters. In all those lines, ONLY THREE OF THEM refer to physical exercise. It basically reads, “Be able to sit up straight.” That’s it. That’s the only reference in the Yoga Sutras to physical exercise. Claudia always tells me that yogis measure their lives in breaths, not years. Deep breathing is what keeps those breaths going.

It is now time for us to ask the personal question put to Jesus Christ by Saul of Tarsus on the Damascus road, ‘What shall I do Lord?’ or the similar question asked by the Philippian jailer, ’What must I do to be saved?’ Clearly we must do something. Christianity is no mere passive acquiescence in a series of propositions, however true. We may believe in the deity and the salvation of Christ, and acknowledge ourselves to be sinners in need of his salvation, but this does not make us Christians. We have to make a personal response to Jesus Christ, committing ourselves unreservedly to him as our Savior and Lord … At its simplest Christ’s call was “Follow me.” He asked men and women for their personal allegiance. He invited them to learn from him, to obey his words and to identify themselves with his cause … Now there can be no following without a previous forsaking. To follow Christ is to renounce all lesser loyalties … let me be more explicit about the forsaking which cannot be separated from the following of Jesus Christ. First, there must be a renunciation of sin. This, in a word, is repentance. It is the first part of Christian conversion. It can in no circumstances be bypassed. Repentance and faith belong together. We cannot follow Christ without forsaking sin … Repentance is a definite turn from every thought, word, deed, and habit which is known to be wrong … There can be no compromise here. There may be sins in our lives which we do not think we could ever renounce, but we must be willing to let them go as we cry to God for deliverance from them. If you are in doubt regarding what is right and what is wrong, do not be too greatly influenced by the customs and conventions of Christians you may know. Go by the clear teaching of the Bible and by the prompting of your conscience, and Christ will gradually lead you further along the path of righteousness. When he puts his finger on anything, give it up. It may be some association or recreation, some literature we read, or some attitude of pride, jealousy or resentment, or an unforgiving spirit. Jesus told his followers to pluck out their eye and cut off their hand or foot if it caused them to sin. We are not to obey this with dead literalism, of course, and mutilate our bodies. It is a figure of speech for dealing ruthlessly with the avenues along which temptation comes to us.

V-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, David explained that without slates on the roof, the rain would get in. In their way, they were just as important as walls. Dr. Moberley asked David if he was afraid of the rain getting in. David told him that he didn't like getting wet. It wasn't so bad outside, especially if you were dressed for it, but most people didn't dress for rain indoors.

666 HOW TO JOIN ILLUMINATI SECRET SOCIETY FOR MONEY. Get Rich Quick Join 666 now. JOIN THE BROTHERHOOD Money, Power, Fame and Love. For those who are interested in making money, every good thing comes with money, comes with extra effort. All u need do is a “Spiritual work” and every wicked power delaying your progress wants clear and good things will come to you like, money, favour from people, open doors, business breakthrough, good job. Note: It’s not a child’s play, it’s for those who are desperate and ready to make a change in their life. We are seeki¬ng that speci¬al wisdo¬m and knowl¬edge that would set us free from the bonda¬ge to dull and drear¬y every¬day life, while stren¬gthen¬ing us in body, mind and spiri¬t, and bring-ing us the mater¬ial rewar¬ds of wealt¬h, love, and succe¬ss. The Karis¬hika Broth¬erhoo¬d is a true broth¬erhoo¬d of secre¬t knowl¬edge and power¬. Me¬mber s¬hip into our frate¬rnity is free and norma¬lly throu¬gh a thoro¬ugh scree¬ning. We are here to liber¬ate those who need wealt¬h, riche¬s, power¬, prosp¬erity¬, prote¬ction and succe¬ss in all ramif¬icati¬on. Broth¬erhoo¬d offer¬s all initi¬ate membe¬rs growt¬h, wealt¬h, fame, power¬, prosp¬erity and succe¬ss in all areas of heart desir¬es. We don’t deman¬d human sacri¬fice, the use of any human parts or early perso¬nal death as a preco¬nditi¬on for you to becom¬e our membe¬r. W¬ant to join occul¬t in Switzerland how can I join secre¬t socie¬ty or cult to make money¬ how can join occul¬t for riche¬s I want to be rich but I don’t know how etc. how do I do money ritua¬l ho¬w do I join good occul¬t that will not affec¬t me and my famil¬y forev¬er w¬e are now here for you. K¬indly conta¬ct us on +41767918253 or email: info786@pm.me Contact Person Agent Adam Address: Kronenstrasse 25 9230 Flawil Switzerland

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.

The Beatitudes reveal the profile of the Christian, the character of the one who has had a life-changing encounter with the grace of God. In light of God's overwhelming goodness, the sinner sees his own poverty of spirit and mourns not only for his own sin but also for the spiritual sickness of the world. Therefore, he grows meek and longs for all the more earnestly for true righteousness. Therefore, he practices mercy and enjoys purity and makes peace. Therefore, he gladly endures persecution for the sake of Jesus.

It’s just that I’m pregnant and I wanted to tell you.” -tripped over his own feet and stumbled forward. He was forced to slap his hands against the edge of the desk or fall flat on his ass as his mind raced to make sense of what she’d just said. “W-what?” he asked, not really sure that he’d heard her correctly. “I just wanted to let you know that I was pregnant and to let you know that we needed to stop at a store on the way home tonight and pick up milk,” Haley said brightly while the class stared at her in utter shock while Jason stood there, struggling to catch his breath. He felt himself nod, not really sure why he was doing it, but he felt that he should be doing something. “Alright,” Haley said, brightly, “I’ll see you after class!” And with that, she finally left the room just as his legs gave out. He held onto the desk for dear life, still struggling to comprehend the words that had come out of his wife’s mouth. Pregnant? Haley was pregnant. They were having a baby. A baby, they were having a baby because Haley was pregnant. He’d gotten Haley pregnant. She was having his baby. They were- “Are you alright, Mr. Bradford?” someone asked, a boy or a girl, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was definitely not okay. “D-do you need anything, Mr. Bradford?” someone else asked. The response was instant, years of Bradford survival taking over in that moment of crisis. “Food. I need food.

Christ’s fourth indirect claim was to judge the world. This is perhaps the most fantastic of all his statements. Several of his parables imply that he will come back at the end of the world, and that the final day of reckoning will be postponed until his return. He will himself arouse the dead, and all the nations will be gathered before him. He will sit on the throne of his glory, and the judgment will be committed to him by the Father. He will then separate men from one another as a shepherd separates his sheep from his goats. Some will be invited to come and inherit the kingdom prepared for them from the foundation of the world. Others will hear the dreadful words, 'Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.' Not only will Jesus be the judge, but the criterion of judgment will be men’s attitude to him as shown in their treatment of his 'brethren' or their response to his word. Those who have acknowledged him before men he will acknowledge before his Father: those who have denied him, he will deny. Indeed, for a man to be excluded from heaven on the last day, it will be enough for Jesus to say, "I never knew you.

There is a maid, demure as she is wise, With all of April in her winsome eyes, And to my tales she listens pensively, With slender fingers clasped about her knee, Watching the sparrows on the balcony. Shy eyes that, lifted up to me, Free all my heart of vanity; Clear eyes, that speak all silently, Sweet as the silence of a nunnery— Read, for I write my rede for you alone, Here where the city's mighty monotone Deepens the silence to a symphony— Silence of Saints, and Seers, and Sorcery. Arms and the Man! A noble theme, I ween! Alas! I can not sing of these, Eileen— Only of maids and men and meadow-grass, Of sea and fields and woodlands, where I pass; Nothing but these I know, Eileen, alas! Clear eyes that, lifted up to me, Free all my soul from vanity; Gray eyes, that speak all wistfully— Nothing but these I know, alas! R. W. C. April, 1896.

I remember a young man coming to see me when he had just left school and begun work in London. He had given up going to church, he said, because he could not say the creed without feeling that he was a hypocrite. He no longer believed it. When he had finished telling me what he thought, I said to him, ‘If I were to answer your problems to your complete intellectual satisfaction, would you be willing to change the way you live?’ He smiled slightly and blushed. The answer was clearly ‘No’. His real problem was not intellectual but moral. This, then, is the spirit in which our search must be conducted. We must set aside apathy, pride, prejudice and sin, and seek God – no matter what the consequences. Of all these hindrances to the search for truth, the last two are the hardest to overcome: intellectual prejudice and moral self-will. The reason is that both are expressions of fear – and fear is the greatest enemy of the truth.

I brushed my teeth like a crazed lunatic as I examined myself in the mirror. Why couldn’t I look the women in commercials who wake up in a bed with ironed sheets and a dewy complexion with their hair perfectly tousled? I wasn’t fit for human eyes, let alone the piercing eyes of the sexy, magnetic Marlboro Man, who by now was walking up the stairs to my bedroom. I could hear the clomping of his boots. The boots were in my bedroom by now, and so was the gravelly voice attached to them. “Hey,” I heard him say. I patted an ice-cold washcloth on my face and said ten Hail Marys, incredulous that I would yet again find myself trapped in the prison of a bathroom with Marlboro Man, my cowboy love, on the other side of the door. What in the world was he doing there? Didn’t he have some cows to wrangle? Some fence to fix? It was broad daylight; didn’t he have a ranch to run? I needed to speak to him about his work ethic. “Oh, hello,” I responded through the door, ransacking the hamper in my bathroom for something, anything better than the sacrilege that adorned my body. Didn’t I have any respect for myself? I heard Marlboro Man laugh quietly. “What’re you doing in there?” I found my favorite pair of faded, soft jeans. “Hiding,” I replied, stepping into them and buttoning the waist. “Well, c’mere,” he said softly. My jeans were damp from sitting in the hamper next to a wet washcloth for two days, and the best top I could find was a cardinal and gold FIGHT ON! T-shirt from my ‘SC days. It wasn’t dingy, and it didn’t smell. That was the best I could do at the time. Oh, how far I’d fallen from the black heels and glitz of Los Angeles. Accepting defeat, I shrugged and swung open the door. He was standing there, smiling. His impish grin jumped out and grabbed me, as it always did. “Well, good morning!” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. His lips settled on my neck. I was glad I’d spritzed myself with Giorgio. “Good morning,” I whispered back, a slight edge to my voice. Equal parts embarrassed at my puffy eyes and at the fact that I’d slept so late that day, I kept hugging him tightly, hoping against hope he’d never let go and never back up enough to get a good, long look at me. Maybe if we just stood there for fifty years or so, wrinkles would eventually shield my puffiness. “So,” Marlboro Man said. “What have you been doing all day?” I hesitated for a moment, then launched into a full-scale monologue. “Well, of course I had my usual twenty-mile run, then I went on a hike and then I read The Iliad. Twice. You don’t even want to know the rest. It’ll make you tired just hearing about it.” “Uh-huh,” he said, his blue-green eyes fixed on mine. I melted in his arms once again. It happened any time, every time, he held me. He kissed me, despite my gold FIGHT ON! T-shirt. My eyes were closed, and I was in a black hole, a vortex of romance, existing in something other than a human body. I floated on vapors. Marlboro Man whispered in my ear, “So…,” and his grip around my waist tightened. And then, in an instant, I plunged back to earth, back to my bedroom, and landed with a loud thud on the floor. “R-R-R-R-Ree?” A thundering voice entered the room. It was my brother Mike. And he was barreling toward Marlboro Man and me, his arms outstretched. “Hey!” Mike yelled. “W-w-w-what are you guys doin’?” And before either of us knew it, Mike’s arms were around us both, holding us in a great big bear hug. “Well, hi, Mike,” Marlboro Man said, clearly trying to reconcile the fact that my adult brother had his arms around him. It wasn’t awkward for me; it was just annoying. Mike had interrupted our moment. He was always doing that.