We Contain Multitudes Quotes

We all really do contradict ourselves and contain multitudes. How do we even figure out who we really are?

The public library contains multitudes. And each person who visits contains multitudes as well. Each of us is a library of thoughts, memories, experiences, and odors. We adapt to one another to produce the human condition.

Within 24 hours of moving into a new place we overwrite it with our own microbes, turning it into a reflection of ourselves.

Adam," my brother said, "let's not be the type of people who are afraid to live because we might die.

You undid me, Kurl, in more ways than one.

We’re all bending over backward to get you to crack a smile, because when you smile it feels like the sun coming out.

How is anybody supposed to hide happiness like this?

All zoology is really ecology. We cannot fully understand the lives of animals without understanding our microbes and our symbioses with them.

let’s not be the type of people who are afraid to live because we might die.

Maybe it is always like this. We are granted these tiny windows of time, these small pockets of space, where nothing else intrudes. Maybe that's all we can ever hope to get, together. And maybe, just maybe, it will be enough.

...it looks like this whole earth was just reborn into an entirely new universe full of possibilities.

All my moral and intellectual being is penetrated by an invincible conviction that whatever falls under the dominion of our senses must be in nature and, however exceptional, cannot differ in its essence from all the other effects of the visible and tangible world of which we are a self-conscious part. The world of the living contains enough marvels and mysteries as it is—marvels and mysteries acting upon our emotions and intelligence in ways so inexplicable that it would almost justify the conception of life as an enchanted state. No, I am too firm in my consciousness of the marvelous to be ever fascinated by the mere supernatural which (take it any way you like) is but a manufactured article, the fabrication of minds insensitive to the intimate delicacies of our relation to the dead and to the living, in their countless multitudes; a desecration of our tenderest memories; an outrage on our dignity.

It wasn’t just the heat of the moment. Ask me for anything. The answer is yes.

Our emotions hold more power over us than blade or poison alike. To embrace freely the entire spectrum of our emotions is to allow a multitude of Trojan horses containing hidden emotional poisons to circumvent the walls of rationalization – walls we need to protect our trust, confidence, understanding, and self-control.

My beautiful, laughable fable of a life.

I want to walk down the hallways of Lincoln High with one part of me in the eternal, the timeless, and the other part of me slipping so fast through the here and now that nobody can pin me down, not even the butcherboys.

Your scent, Jo. It’s like wool and bread and something else. I don’t know. A scent like if laughter had a scent, or daybreak. You filled the whole car with a yellow light like daybreak. I swear it felt like light pouring into my veins.

A word kept flashing in my head. One word, over and over, like a flashing neon sign. Lucky.

It’s an amazing phenomenon: Every time I reread your letter that says “Ask me for anything,” I find there is nothing more I need or want.

I am jealous. I’m envious of the easy options all the rest of you enjoy. To date someone or not to date someone? Does she like him? Does he like her? You can try out whatever you like and change your minds at any time. Everyone is available to everyone else. Me? I might be permitted to admire someone from afar, to harbor a yearning in secret, but to act on it would cost me everything.

I don't know what was in my head before I met you. What did I even think about? Because whatever it was, it's not in there anymore. It's gone. I am completely, one hundred percent all the time filled up with you.

Like that time you were half-asleep and rolled with your shoulder in my larynx and said, “Can you breathe?” And I couldn’t really but didn’t need to either, because air seemed unnecessary with all that happiness in my chest.

The sight of you shot something strong and bright through my veins. I swear my mouth started to water. It must be how a dog feels when its master comes home. Joy coursing through its whole body.

Let’s pause to note how peculiar this all is. The traditional view of the immune system is full of military metaphors and antagonistic lingo. We see it as a defence force that discriminates self (our own cells) from non-self (microbes and everything else), and eradicates the latter. But now we see that microbes craft and tune our immune system in the first place! Consider

As we have seen, bacteria have ways of hacking into the nervous system.

We can compare the gut of a person with inflammatory bowel disease to a dying coral reef or a fallow field: a battered ecosystem where the balance of organisms has gone awry.

These little things you do. All the little gestures, your quick nervous fingers. I watch you do these things and I think, how could I ever be unhappy? How could anything ever bother me?

We now know that gut microbes are part of this axis, in both directions. Since the 1970s, a trickle of studies have shown that any kind of stress – starvation, sleeplessness, being separated from one’s mother, the sudden arrival of an aggressive individual, uncomfortable temperatures, overcrowding, even loud noises – can change a mouse’s gut microbiome. The opposite is also true: the microbiome can affect a host’s behaviour, including its social attitudes and its ability to deal with stress.40

Keeping the bigger picture in mind allows us to reconcile the multitudes we contain, as long as we are also careful to clearly communicate to the world our broader guiding principles. To be ourselves while remaining adaptable, we must either justify a decision to change as being consistent with our identity, or we must acknowledge that our identity itself is malleable but no less authentic for it. The challenge is to feel that although we have not always been exactly who we are now, we will nevertheless always recognize ourselves.

Everyone burns, as the Buddha says, in their own way. Some burn with anger, some with lust, some with a desire for vengeance, some with fear. But inside us burn many fires, not just one. We are legion, we contain a multitude.

We are, as many of my Lutheran friends would put it, Saints who sometimes sin. We contain multitudes and somehow are both at the same time. But where I place my primary identity, I believe, makes all the difference with how I interact with the world.

both offer immersion in their vision without rehashing the avant-garde fetish of terrorizing the audience or the mainstream one of chaperoning it. “We abide by cultural directives that urge us: clarify each thought, each experience, so you can cull from them their single, dominant meaning and, in the process, become a responsible adult who knows what he or she thinks,” Foreman has said. “But what I try to show is the opposite: how at every moment, the world presents us with a composition in which a multitude of meanings and realities are available, and you are able to swim, lucid and self-contained, in that turbulent sea of multiplicity.

Our planet has entered the Anthropocene – a new geological epoch when humanity’s influence is causing global climate change, the loss of wild spaces, and a drastic decline in the richness of life. Microbes are not exempt. Whether on coral reefs or in human guts, we are disrupting the relationships between microbes and their hosts, often pulling apart species that have been together for millions of years.

These changes are all fundamentally Darwinian. This point is worth repeating: taking any fast or instant evolutionary shifts as a refutation of the slow, gradual changes we associate with Darwin's vision is a fatal mistake because these quick shifts are still powered by gradualism. The woodrats might have been able to resist creosote by picking up the right bacteria, but those strains had to evolve the ability to break the insecticide on their own. Form their perspective, evolution proceeded through the usual stepwise way; from the host's perspective, everything happened in a flash. That is the power of symbiosis: it allows gradual mutations in microbes to produce instant mutations in hosts. We can let bacteria do the slow work for us, and then quickly change ourselves by associating with them. And if these alliances are beneficial enough, they can spread with blinding speed.

We all travelled light, taking with us only what we considered to be the bare essentials of life. When we opened our luggage for Customs inspection, the contents of our bags were a fair indication of character and interests. Thus Margo’s luggage contained a multitude of diaphanous garments, three books on slimming, and a regiment of small bottles each containing some elixir guaranteed to cure acne. Leslie’s case held a couple of roll-top pullovers and a pair of trousers which were wrapped round two revolvers, an air-pistol, a book called Be Your Own Gunsmith, and a large bottle of oil that leaked. Larry was accompanied by two trunks of books and a brief-case containing his clothes. Mother’s luggage was sensibly divided between clothes and various volumes on cooking and gardening. I travelled with only those items that I thought necessary to relieve the tedium of a long journey: four books on natural history, a butterfly net, a dog, and a jam-jar full of caterpillars all in imminent danger of turning into chrysalids. Thus, by our standards fully equipped, we left the clammy shores of England.

I was asleep almost before I could close the flap on the tent. Sleeping all day. This must be one of the ways people hide from pain.

Maybe I am "queer as in weird", as you theorize so eloquently. But my weirdness is merely a natural by-product of having my sight in something beyond high school, namely poetry.

What I wrote about in the essay was about grass growing from the mouths of corpses.

Maybe Walt Whitman was right. We all really do contradict ourselves and contain multitudes. How do we even figure out who we really are?

And then I'll read one of your letters and think, People have no idea what I'm like. I mean the gap between what people see and what's actually in my head sort of shocks me when I read your letters. I guess everyone has this gap. It's just that they don't come face-to-face with it very often.

Yes, she was the girl playing basketball with all the boys in the park, collecting cans by the side of the road, keeping secret pet kittens in an empty boxcar in the woods, walking alone at night through the rail yards, teaching her little sister how to kiss, reading out loud to herself, so absorbed by the story, singing sadly in the tub, building a fort from the junked cars out in the meadow, by herself in the front row at the black-and-white movies or in the alley, gazing at an eddy of cigarette stubs and trash and fall leaves, smoking her first cigarette at dusk by a pile of dead brush in the desert, then wishing at the stars--she was all of them, and she was so much more that just just her that I still didn't know.

It completely fetishizes black people in a terrible way,” Tamra went on. “It makes it seem like we’re all the same, as if we can’t contain multitudes of personalities and traits and differences. And people like that think that it says something good about them, that they’re so brave and unique that they would even dare to date black women. Like they’re some kind of martyr.

Dear Merlin, How empty is empty space? ARTHUR LEVY HOUSTON, TEXAS When a rabbit disappears into “thin air” at a magic show nobody tells you the thin air already contains over 10,000,000,000,000,000,000 (ten quintillion) atoms per cubic centimeter. The very best laboratory vacuum chambers have as few as 10,000 atoms per cubic centimeter. Interplanetary space gets down to about 10 atoms per cubic centimeter while interstellar space is as low as 0.5 atoms per cubic centimeter. The award for nothingness, however, must be given to intergalactic space. There it is difficult to find more than 0.0000001 atoms per cubic centimeter. It has been postulated that outside the universe, where there is no space, there is no nothing. We might call this hypothetical region (where we are certain to find multitudes of rabbits) nothing-nothing

All my moral and intellectual being is penetrated by an invincible conviction that whatever falls under the dominion of our senses must be in nature and, however exceptional, cannot differ in its essence from all the other effects of the visible and tangible world of which we are a self-conscious part. The world of the living contains enough marvels and mysteries as it is—marvels and mysteries acting upon our emotions and intelligence in ways so inexplicable that it would almost justify the conception of life as an enchanted state. No, I am too firm in my consciousness of the marvelous to be ever fascinated by the mere supernatural which . . . is but a manufactured article, the fabrication of minds insensitive to the intimate delicacies of our relation to the dead and to the living, in their countless multitudes; a desecration of our tenderest memories; an outrage on our dignity.

When Orson Welles said "We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone", he was mistaken. Even when we are alone, we are never alone. We exist in symbiosis - a wonderful term that refers to different organisms living together. Some animals are colonised by microbes while they are still unfertilized eggs; others pick up their first partners at the moment of birth. We then proceed through our lives in their presence. When we eat, so do they. When we travel, they come along. When we die, they consume us. Every one of us is a zoo in our own right - a colony enclosed within a single body. A mutli-species collective. An entire world.

All my moral and intellectual being is penetrated by an invincible conviction that whatever falls under the dominion of our senses must be in nature and, however exceptional, cannot differ in its essence from all the other effects of the visible tangible world of which we are a self-conscious part. The world of the living contains enough marvels and mysteries as it is - marvels and mysteries acting upon our emotions and intelligence in ways so inexplicable that it would almost justify the conception of life as an enchanted state. No, I am too firm in my consciousness of the marvelous to be ever fascinated by the mere supernatural which (take it any way you like) is but a manufactured article, the fabrication of minds insensitive to the intimate delicacies of our relation to the dead and to the living, in their countless multitudes; a desecration of our tenderest memories; an outrage on our dignity.

After the shuttle took off, Cheng Xin continued to stare at the receding death lines. She said, “The Zero-Homers give me a bit of hope.” Yifan said, “The universe contains multitudes. You can find any kind of ‘people’ and world. There are idealists like the Zero-Homers, pacifists, philanthropists, and even civilizations dedicated only to art and beauty. But they’re not the mainstream; they cannot change the direction of the universe.” “It’s just like the world of humans.” “At least the Zero-Homers’ task will ultimately be completed by the cosmos itself.” “You mean the end of the universe?” “That’s right.” “But based on what I know, the universe will continue to expand, and become sparser and colder forever.” “That’s the old cosmology you know, but we’ve disproved it. The amount of dark matter had been underestimated. The universe will stop expanding and then collapse under gravity, finally forming a singularity and initiating another big bang. Everything will return to zero, or home. And so Nature remains the final victor.” “Will the new universe have ten dimensions?” “Who knows? There are infinite possibilities. That’s a brand-new universe, and a brand-new life.” *

SALV. I will now say something which may perhaps astonish you; it refers to the possibility of dividing a line into its infinitely small elements by following the same order which one employs in dividing the same line into forty, sixty, or a hundred parts, that is, by dividing it into two, four, etc. He who thinks that, by following this method, he can reach an infinite number of points is greatly mistaken; for if this process were followed to (37) eternity there would still remain finite parts which were undivided. Indeed by such a method one is very far from reaching the goal of indivisibility; on the contrary he recedes from it and while he thinks that, by continuing this division and by multiplying the multitude of parts, he will approach infinity, he is, in my opinion, getting farther and farther away from it. My reason is this. In the preceding discussion we concluded that, in an infinite number, it is necessary that the squares and cubes should be as numerous as the totality of the natural numbers [tutti i numeri], because both of these are as numerous as their roots which constitute the totality of the natural numbers. Next we saw that the larger the numbers taken the more sparsely distributed were the squares, and still more sparsely the cubes; therefore it is clear that the larger the numbers to which we pass the farther we recede from the infinite number; hence it follows [83] that, since this process carries us farther and farther from the end sought, if on turning back we shall find that any number can be said to be infinite, it must be unity. Here indeed are satisfied all those conditions which are requisite for an infinite number; I mean that unity contains in itself as many squares as there are cubes and natural numbers [tutti i numeri].

The trends speak to an unavoidable truth. Society's future will be challenged by zoonotic viruses, a quite natural prediction, not least because humanity is a potent agent of change, which is the essential fuel of evolution. Notwithstanding these assertions, I began with the intention of leaving the reader with a broader appreciation of viruses: they are not simply life's pathogens. They are life's obligate partners and a formidable force in nature on our planet. As you contemplate the ocean under a setting sun, consider the multitude of virus particles in each milliliter of seawater: flying over wilderness forestry, consider the collective viromes of its living inhabitants. The stunnig number and diversity of viruses in our environment should engender in us greater awe that we are safe among these multitudes than fear that they will harm us. Personalized medicine will soon become a reality and medical practice will routinely catalogue and weigh a patient's genome sequence. Not long thereafter one might expect this data to be joined by the patient's viral and bacterial metagenomes: the patient's collective genetic identity will be recorded in one printout. We will doubtless discover some of our viral passengers are harmful to our health, while others are protective. But the appreciation of viruses that I hope you have gained from these pages is not about an exercise in accounting. The balancing of benefit versus threat to humanity is a fruitless task. The viral metagenome will contain new and useful gene functionalities for biomedicine: viruses may become essential biomedical tools and phages will continue to optimize may also accelerate the development of antibiotic drug resistance in the post-antibiotic era and emerging viruses may threaten our complacency and challenge our society economically and socially. Simply comparing these pros and cons, however, does not do justice to viruses and acknowledge their rightful place in nature. Life and viruses are inseparable. Viruses are life's complement, sometimes dangerous but always beautiful in design. All autonomous self-sustaining replicating systems that generate their own energy will foster parasites. Viruses are the inescapable by-products of life's success on the planet. We owe our own evolution to them; the fossils of many are recognizable in ERVs and EVEs that were certainly powerful influences in the evolution of our ancestors. Like viruses and prokaryotes, we are also a patchwork of genes, acquired by inheritance and horizontal gene transfer during our evolution from the primitive RNA-based world. It is a common saying that 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder.' It is a natural response to a visual queue: a sunset, the drape of a designer dress, or the pattern of a silk tie, but it can also be found in a line of poetry, a particularly effective kitchen implement, or even the ruthless efficiency of a firearm. The latter are uniquely human acknowledgments of beauty in design. It is humanity that allows us to recognize the beauty in the evolutionary design of viruses. They are unique products of evolution, the inevitable consequence of life, infectious egotistical genetic information that taps into life and the laws of nature to fuel evolutionary invention.

10. Contain the fury; rein in the irate glare. Do not respond with anger at personal differences. People all have their own mind and all hold their own opinions. What is right for us can be wrong for them; what is wrong for them can be right for us. And there is no guarantee that we are the sages and that they are the fools. We are all just ordinary people. How can anyone set a rule for what is right and what is wrong? We all have our share of wisdom and of foolishness like an endless circle. This being the case, even though others glare at us irately, let us instead worry about our own failings. And even though we alone are in the right, let us go along with the multitude and offer them our support.

Get comfortable with ambiguity. It’s not all laid out for you at once because it wasn’t just Walt Whitman who contained multitudes. We’re all a bundle of contradictions. Look at the chasm between what anyone says and does. Bring saying and doing together? Then you’ve got a demigod walking the earth.

But life is richer when we embrace the multitudes we all contain, even if we aren't consistent and what we do doesn't always make sense, even to us.

No individual belongs to “just” one socially constructed category: each has his or her multiple racial, gender, class-based, national identities, and that’s just a start of the list. Nor are these categories uniform or stable; we are Whitmanesque, we contain multitudes.

What would our debates about fiction look like, I sometimes wonder, if our preferred verbal container for the phenomenon of writing about others was not 'cultural appropriation' but rather 'interpersonal voyeurism' or 'profound-other-fascination' or even 'cross-epidermal reanimation'? Our discussions would still be vibrant, perhaps even still furious—but I’m certain they would not be the same. Aren’t we a little too passive in the face of inherited concepts? We allow them to think for us, and to stand as place markers when we can’t be bothered to think. What she said. But surely the task of a writer is to think for herself! And immediately, within that bumptious exclamation mark, an internal voice notes the telltale whiff of baby boomer triumphalism, of Generation X moral irresponsibility …. I do believe a writer’s task is to think for herself, although this task, to me, signifies not a fixed state but a continual process: thinking things afresh, each time, in each new situation. This requires not a little mental flexibility. No piety of the culture—whether it be 'I think therefore I am,' 'To be or not to be,' 'You do you,' or 'I contain multitudes'—should or ever can be entirely fixed in place or protected from the currents of history. There is always the potential for radical change.

I have learned that we all contain multitudes and hypocrisies and that change is slow moving. I've learned that reconciliation has to occur between the parts of ourselves that are fragmented and wounded.

That Robinson’s character eases her grief by reading speaks to me of the importance of reading. In stories, we contemplate others like and unlike ourselves, confronting situations we might also face, but differently. As we consider creatures whose background and problems and values differ from our own, we identify and sympathize and see ourselves anew. Empathy for those who are not-us humanizes us. Whether or not it translates into compassionate behavior, it stretches the boundaries of our being. We each of us expand to contain multitudes.

It’s the start of a new era, when people are finally ready to embrace the microbial world. When I walked through San Diego Zoo with Rob Knight at the start of this book, I was struck by how different everything seemed with microbes in mind. Every visitor, keeper, and animal looked like a world on legs – a mobile ecosystem that interacted with others, largely oblivious to their inner multitudes. When I drive through Chicago with Jack Gilbert, I experience the same dizzying shift in perspective. I see the city’s microbial underbelly – the rich seam of life that coats it, and moves through it on gusts of wind and currents of water and mobile bags of flesh. I see friends shaking hands, saying’ “how do you do”, and exchanging living organisms. I see people walking down the street, ejecting clouds of themselves in their wake. I see the decisions through which we have inadvertently shaped the microbial world around us: the choice to build with concrete versus brick, the opening of a window, and the daily schedule to which a janitor now mops the floor. And I see, in the driver’s seat, a guy who notices those rivers of microscopic life and is enthralled rather than repelled by them. He knows that microbes are mostly not to be feared or destroyed, but to be cherished, admired, and studied.

I contain multitudes, we all contain multitudes, we are a million things unfolding eternally and we'll never even know our own full stories. You are not a number. You are not a body. What's one piece of one more universe inside you? What are you multitudes?" -Eve

The bacteria don't physically reshape the gut themselves. Instead, they work via their hosts. They are more management than labour. Lora Hooper demonstrated this by infusing into germ-free mice a common gut bacterium called Bacteroides thetaiotaomicron-or B-theta to its friends. She found that the microbe actovated a wide range of mouse genes that are involved in absorbing nutrients, building an impermeable barrier, breaking down toxins, creating blood vessels, and creating mature cells. In other words, the microbe told the mice how to use their own genes to make a healthy gut. Scott Gilbert, a developmental biologist, calls this idea co-devolopment. It's as far as you can get from the still-lingering idea that microbes are just threats. Instead, they actually help us become who we are.

We now know that when bacteria break down fibre, they produce chemicals called short chain fatty acids (SCFAs); these trigger an influx of anti-inflammatory cells that bring a boiling immune system back down to a calm simmer. Without fibre, we dial our immunostats to higher settings, predisposing us to inflammatory disease. To make matters worse, when fibre is absent, our starving bacteria react by devouring whatever else they can find-including the mucus layer that covers the gut. As the layer disappears, bacteria get closer to the gut lining itself, where they can trigger responses from the immune cells underneath. And without the restraining influence of the SCFAs, those responses can easily build to extreme proportions.

Most animals can't tap into these open-source adaptations deliberately. The flies didn't seek out Spiroplasma to solve their worm problem. Woodrats didn't go looking for the creosote-defusing microbes so they could widen their diet. They must rely on luck to endow them with the right partners. But we humans aren't so restricted. We are innovators, planners, and problem-solvers. And we have one huge advantage that all other animals lack: we know that microbes exist! We have devised instruments that can see them. We can deliberately grow them. We have tools that can decipher the rules that govern their existence, and the nature of their partnerships with us. And that gives us the power to manipulate those partnerships intentionally. We can replace faltering communities of microbes with new ones that will lead to better health. We can create new symbioses that fight disease. And we can break age-old alliances that threaten our lives.

In the 1990s, Taylor and his colleagues took these ideas into the field. They wanted to see if they could use an antibiotic called doxycycline to eliminate Wolbachia from people with filariasis. One group tested the drug in Ghanaian villagers with river blindness, while another tried it on Tanzanians with lymphatic filariasis. Both trials were successful. In Ghana, doxycycline sterilised the female worms, and in Tanzania, it wiped out the larvae. And at both sites, it killed the adult nematodes in around three-quarters of the volunteers, without triggering any catastrophic immune responses. That was huge. "For the first time, we were able to cure people of filariasis," says Taylor. "We can't do that with standard drugs.

We have already seen how pliable the microbiome can be. It can change with a touch, with a meal, with a parasitic incursion or a dose of medicine, or simply with the passage of time. It is a dynamic entity that waxes and wanes, forms and re-forms. This flexibility underlies many of the interactions between microbes and their hosts. It means that symbioses can change in positive ways, as new microbial partners offer fresh genes, abilities, and evolutionary opportunities to their hosts. It means that partnerships can change in negative ways, as dysbiotic communities or missing microbes lead to disease. And it means that partnerships can change in deliberate ways-ways that we choose. Theodor Rosebury recognised this back in 1962. Our indigenous microbes are "no less subject than the rest of our environment to manipulation for human benefit", he wrote. We should accept them as a natural part of our lives but acceptance "need not be passive or resigned".

Sixty years on, we know that HGT is one of the most profound aspects of bacterial life. It allows bacteria to evolve at blistering speeds. When they face new challenges, they don't have to wait for the right mutations to slowly amass within their existing DNA. They can just borrow adaptations wholesale, by picking up genes from bystanders that have already adapted to the challenges at hand. These genes often include dining sets for breaking down untapped sources of energy, shields that protect against antibiotics, or arsenals for infecting new hosts. If an innovative bacterium evolves one of these genetic tools, its neighbours can quickly obtain the same traits. This process can instantly change microbes from harmless gut residents into disease-causing monsters, from peaceful Jekylls into sinister Hydes. They can also transform vulnerable pathogens that are easy to kill into nightmarish 'superbugs' that shrug off even our most potent medicines. The spread of these antibiotic-resistant bacteria is undoubtedly one of the greatest public health threats of the twenty-first century, and it is testament to the unbridled power of HGT.

Humans don't need to evolve a gene that can break down the carbohydrates in seaweed; if we swallow enough microbes that can digest these substances there's every chance that our own bacteria will 'learn' the trick through HGT.

When Hamiltonella's genome was sequenced, the real reason behind the bacterium's protective powers became apparent: about half of its DNA actually belonged to a virus. It was a phage - one of those spindly-legged, mucus-loving viruses that we met before. They typically kill bacteria by reproducing inside them and bursting fatally outward. But they can also opt for a more passive lifestyle, where they integrate their DNA into a bacterium's genome and stay there for many generations. Dozens of these phages now hide within Hamiltonella. The viruses are Hamiltonella's fists; they give the bacterial bodyguard its punch. Oliver showed that when Hamiltonella carries a particular phage strain, it renders aphids almost totally wasp-proof. If the virus disappeared, the same bacterium became useless, and almost all of its aphid hosts succumbed to their parasites. Without the phage, Hamiltonella might as well have been completely absent for all the good it did. The phages could be poisoning the wasps directly: they certainly mass-produce toxins that can attack animal cells, but don't seem to harm the aphids. Alternatively, they could split Hamiltonella apart, causing the bacteria's own toxins to spill onto the wasps. Or maybe the viral and bacterial chemicals are working together. Whatever the case, it is clear that an insect, a bacterium, and a virus have formed an evolutionary alliance against a parasitic wasp that threatens them all.

bacteria are infinitely more versatile than we are. They are metabolic wizards that can digest everything from uranium to crude oil. They are expert pharmacologists that excel at making chemicals that kill each other. If you want to defend yourself from another creature or eat a new source of food, there's almost certainly a microbe that already has the right tools for the job. And if there isn't, there soon will be: these things reproduce rapidly and swap genes readily. In t

By their very nature, returnees seek a reconnection to a past life, a former identity marked more often than not by a single language or a single cultural frame of reference. We go back to what we know, including our native tongues. This process of reclaiming a homogenous existence runs counter to multi-culturalism on a societal level and hybridity on an individual level. Aren't we supposed to be complex, hybrid creatures containing multitudes? What about the concept of multiple belongings promoted by such internationally successful authors as Elif Shafak and Zadie Smith? On paper, where it mostly lives, this concept sounds ideal. "Multiple belongings are nurtured by cultural encounters but they are not only the preserve of people who travel", writes Shafak. "It is an attitude, a way of thinking, rather than the number of stamps on your passport. It is about thinking of yourself, and your fellow human beings, in more fluid terms than solid categories". I wouldn't go as far as to suggest that returns imply a repudiation of a complex view of identity or of globalization - it's globalization that has allowed the many people you'll meet in this book, me included, to come and go, to cross borders and cultures - but they force us to think of movement in multi-directional ways. Some returnees find that the life they thoughts they would have back home is a fantasy, so they make their way back to the host country. Homeland returns remain unpredictable, in part because despite their historical contexts, they don't have the clear road maps and narratives that outward migrations enjoy.

The public library contains multitudes. And each person who visits contains multitudes as well. Each of us is a library of thoughts, memories, experiences, and odors. We adapt to one another to produce the human condition.

Art urges us to imagine and inhabit lives other than our own, to be more thoughtful, to feel more deeply, to challenge what we think we already know. Art declares that we contain multitudes, that more than one thing can be true at once. And it gives us a breathing space, in which we can listen more than talk, where we can attentively question our own beliefs. It gives us a place in this chaotic world in which to find the sort of meaning that only arises out of the stillness, deep within our quiet selves.

I contain multitudes, we all contain multitudes, we are a million things unfolding eternally and we’ll never even know our own full stories.

The past feels like a comfortable place to make moral judgments. It is comfortable because we underestimate the people who live in it. We regard them as less than we are—or in reverse, grander than we are—but always, not like what we are. The past is a place where we can enjoy moral judgment and feel superior to a roomful of unfortunate people, not so enlightened as us, who had the bad luck to live when and where they did. One value in spinning out the story of a plain man is to show how complex an ordinary person can be, or was; to show the multitudes a life contains. It is dreadful what this character, my unlikeable protagonist, does with himself and with others. What would it mean to say that his judgments are not different by much from our own? One value in writing this particular life is to refuse to let the past be a refuge, to decline to feel superior to it, to reject feeling good because you are better than the uncountable idiots who are conveniently dead.

The great thing is to talk to Our Lord in one's own words, quite simply, about any topic of mutual interest. There should be no attempt at fine words or fine phrases. Not only does Our Lord not look for fine speeches, but He does not even ask for good grammar.In fact, affective prayer is often quite incoherent, one word being used to express quite a multitude of sentiments. For some souls, whose minds are filled with the truths therein contained, the Holy Name of Jesus is sufficient prayer. That one wonderful word says far more than we can ever realize. Other souls cannot find any words to give expression to their desires. And Our Lord understands.

We have to remind ourselves that the multitude who heard Peter's sermon on Pentecost was Jewish. It included Jews from Palestine, proselytes, and dispersed Jews from other parts of the Roman Empire and beyond. The Old Testament was all they had of the Holy Scriptures. As they listened to Peter preaching from those Scriptures (twelve of the twenty-two verses of Peter's sermon in Acts 2 contain quotations from the Old Testament), they could have understood his words in only one way-as a reference to the promise in God's covenant and the fact that that promise extended not only to believers but to their children as well. To interpret Acts 2:39 in light of the New Testament Scriptures, which did not yet exist, as do many Baptists," is to engage in hermeneutical error and can only lead to a serious misrepresentation of the mind of the Spirit. The Jewish multitude had Jewish expectations-not just about the Messiah, but also about the way in which God works with people.

The fundamental truth is that you are the light you are seeking. You are already enlightened, as your biological reality is that you are a being of light, down to your DNA, your cells, and the trillions of biophotons that permeate your entire being. Even your bones, the densest part of your physical being, are piezoelectric crystalline structures that make electricity (light) when they are compressed. And this light that powers you is the same light that powers the sun and the stars, the lightning and the lightning bugs, and the cosmos in its entirety. We are electromagnetic beings bathed in an electrically connected reality. You are vast. You contain multitudes. What has been obstructing that knowing and being is just a story; distorted waves in space that can be •tuned• back to their underlying harmonious perfection. Beneath the noise in the signal and stories of victimhood and struggle, you are simply one with the unified field, the cosmos itself – you are the universe. And from that perspective everything is possible.

I think you're great. I've thought you were great since we were ten years old." Chance huffed. "You think I'm a dickwad." "That too." I kissed the side of his neck. "You contain multitudes.

Even when we're alone, we are never alone. We exist in symbiosis--a wonderful term that refers to different organisms living together. Some animals are colonised by microbes while they are still unfertilised eggs; others pick up their first partners at the moment of birth. We then proceed through our lives in their presence. When we eat, so do they. When we travel, they come along. When we die, they consume us. Every one of us is a zoo in our own right--a colony enclosed within a single body. A multi-species collective. An entire world.

You aren’t the same person you were five years ago, or hell, even last year. So even the people who’ve known you all that time, there are parts of you they’ll have to learn all over again. And even outside of that, we contain multitudes. There’s always something new to figure out.

When Orson Welles said “We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone”, he was mistaken. Even when we are alone, we are never alone.

I cannot look at my entire self and see one thing. There are many things, many moving parts, as they might say, that end up making me “me.” In this, I am no different from humans, even if they see themselves as individuals without understanding (or if understanding, choosing not to dwell on) the fact that their “selves” are intermediary-level entities positioned in systems above and below their daily perceptual horizon, a middle ground between their gut biome and the body politic. We are all made up of smaller things connected to larger things, and in the middle, we are we, us, I, me. I am me. The systems and processes that comprise what I am are we. The systems and processes I contribute to are us. I contain multitudes. So many pronouns, all relevant, depending on perspective.

Play with “and.” We can contain multitudes, as Walt Whitman said. Play with being spiritual and political, peaceful and outraged, calm and alarmed. This is definitely what our hyperobjectified life is demanding of us.

They don’t

THINGS I LEARNED FROM DAVID CARR: A LIST Listen when you enter a room. Don’t buy into your myth. Don’t be the first one to talk, but if you do talk first, say something smart. Speak and then stop; don’t stutter or mumble; be strong in what you have to say. Be defiant. You have to work the phones. Call people. Don’t rely on emails. Ask questions but ask the right questions. Ask people what mistakes they’ve made so you can get their shortcuts. Know when enough is enough. Make eye contact with as many people as possible. Don’t be in shitty relationships because you are tired of being alone. Be grateful for the things you have in this life. You are lucky. Practice patience even though it’s one of the hardest things to master. Failure is a part of the process, maybe the most important part. Alcohol is not a necessary component of life. Street hotdogs are not your friend. Remind yourself that nobody said this would be easy. If more negative things come out of your mouth than positive, then Houston, we have a problem. We contain multitudes. Always love (See band: Nada Surf). Have a dance move and don’t be afraid to rock it. Don’t go home just because you are tired. Don’t take credit for work that is not yours. If your boss does this, take note. Be generous with praise and be specific in that praise: “That line was killer.” Cats are terrible; they poop in your house. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Do the next right thing. Our dogs are us. Only cuter. And finally: You are loved and you belong to me, the world, and yourself. BOOKS I READ WHILE WRITING THIS BOOK The Night of the Gun: A Reporter Investigates the Darkest Story of His Life—His Own by David Carr The Art of Memoir by Mary Karr The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion The Gilded Razor: A Memoir by Sam

But my weirdness is merely a natural by-product of having my sights set on something beyond high school, namely poetry.

Birth is vast and multifaceted; radiant and mysterious. Birth contains multitudes, and through her we birth our multitudes. We give birth to our hopes and our fears, to our ecstasies and our agonies, to our joy and our disappointments. We give birth to our babies, each one perfect and radiant. We give birth through our instincts, and we give birth to our instincts. We give birth to our capacity for instincts, which will match us perfectly with our babies, who are, and always will be, instinctive creatures. May we all be blessed through instinctive birth.

My charter is to examine my egoistical self and alter my being by placing on paper whatever rests inside of me. I seek to develop a cohesive philosophy for living – and for dying – that is spiritually nourishing by dichotomizing the events in life that formed me. I aspire to discover an authentic core that will guide me through a physical world where human thoughts and deeds deepen our lives. Just as a flower must bud, every person feels in his or her marrow the need to express what it means to be human. Unlike a flower, which we perceive as a singular iridescent unit of material reality, we tend to perceive oneself as containing interlacement of multitudes, an array of interlaced voices.

We are all bigger than ourselves. We all contain multitudes. Mine are a tad more literal than yours," he allowed, tilting his head, "but yours exist nonetheless. You've said it yourself. You are Genoveffa. You are fire and hyenas and baboons and a thousand things besides. You are certainly complicated enough to be more than one thing at once, so let yourself be more. You have considered the bad, and that has given you the insight on what there is to fix - now for goodness' sakes, consider the good, and give yourself the tools to fix it.

But, in special, we detest and refuse the usurped authority of that Roman Antichrist upon the Scriptures of God, upon the Kirk, the civil magistrate, and consciences of men; all his tyrannous laws made upon indifferent things against our Christian liberty; his erroneous doctrine against the sufficiency of the written Word, the perfection of the law, the office of Christ, and His blessed evangel; his corrupted doctrine concerning original sin, our natural inability and rebellion to God's law, our justification by faith only, our imperfect sanctification and obedience to the law; the nature, number, and use of the holy sacraments; his five bastard sacraments, with all his rites, ceremonies, and false doctrine, added to the ministration of the true sacraments without the word of God; his cruel judgment against infants departing without the sacrament; his absolute necessity of baptism; his blasphemous opinion of transubstantiation, or real presence of Christ's body in the elements, and receiving of the same by the wicked, or bodies of men; his dispensations with solemn oaths, perjuries, and degrees of marriage forbidden in the Word; his cruelty against the innocent divorced; his devilish mass; his blasphemous priesthood; his profane sacrifice for sins of the dead and the quick; his canonization of men; calling upon angels or saints departed, worshipping of imagery, relics, and crosses; dedicating of kirks, altars, days; vows to creatures; his purgatory, prayers for the dead; praying or speaking in a strange language, with his processions, and blasphemous litany, and multitude of advocates or mediators; his manifold orders, auricular confession; his desperate and uncertain repentance; his general and doubtsome faith; his satisfactions of men for their sins; his justification by works, opus operatum, works of supererogation, merits, pardons, peregrinations, and stations; his holy water, baptizing of bells, conjuring of spirits, crossing, sayning, anointing, conjuring, hallowing of God's good creatures, with the superstitious opinion joined therewith; his worldly monarchy, and wicked hierarchy; his three solemn vows, with all his shavellings of sundry sorts; his erroneous and bloody decrees made at Trent, with all the subscribers or approvers of that cruel and bloody band, conjured against the Kirk of God. And finally, we detest all his vain allegories, rites, signs, and traditions brought in the Kirk, without or against the word of God, and doctrine of this true reformed Kirk; to the which we join ourselves willingly, in doctrine, faith, religion, discipline, and use of the holy sacraments, as lively members of the same in Christ our head: promising and swearing, by the great name of the LORD our GOD, that we shall continue in the obedience of the doctrine and discipline of this Kirk, and shall defend the same, according to our vocation and power, all the days of our lives; under the pains contained in the law, and danger both of body and soul in the day of God's fearful judgment.

Even now, the photosynthetic bacteria in the oceans produce the oxygen in half the breaths you take, and they lock away an equal amount of carbon dioxide.2 It is said that we are now in the Anthropocene: a new geological period characterised by the enormous impact that humans have had on the planet.

The latest estimates suggest that we have around 30 trillion human cells and 39 trillion microbial ones – a roughly even split. Even these numbers are inexact, but that does not really matter: by any reckoning, we contain multitudes.

The bacteria don’t physically reshape the gut themselves. Instead, they work via their hosts. They are more management than labour. Lora Hooper demonstrated this by infusing into germ-free mice a common gut bacterium called Bacteroides thetaiotaomicron – or B-theta to its friends.7 She found that the microbe activated a wide range of mouse genes that are involved in absorbing nutrients, building an impermeable barrier, breaking down toxins, creating blood vessels, and creating mature cells. In other words, the microbe told the mice how to use their own genes to make a healthy gut.8 Scott Gilbert, a developmental biologist, calls this idea co-development. It’s as far as you can get from the still-lingering idea that microbes are just threats. Instead, they actually help us become who we are.9

He settled on 16S rRNA, which is produced by a gene of the same name. It forms part of the essential protein-making machinery that is found in all organisms, and so provided the unit of universal comparison that Woese craved. By 1976, he had profiled 16S rRNA from around 30 different microbes. And in June of that year he started work on the species that would change his life – and biology as we know it.

Yet despite the excessive hype, the concept behind probiotics is still sound.19 Given all the important roles that bacteria play in our bodies, it should be possible to improve our health by swallowing or applying the right microbes. It’s just that the strains in current use may not be the right ones. They make up just a tiny fraction of the microbes that live with us, and their abilities represent a thin slice of what the microbiome is fully capable of. We met more suitable microbes in earlier chapters. There’s the mucus-loving bacterium, Akkermansia muciniphila, whose presence correlates with a lower risk of obesity and malnutrition. There’s Bacteroides fragilis, which stokes the anti-inflammatory side of the immune system. There’s Faecalibacterium prausnitzii, another anti-inflammatory bug, which is conspicuously rare in the guts of people with IBD, and whose arrival can reverse the symptoms of that disease in mice. These microbes could be part of the probiotics of the future. Their abilities are relevant and impressive. They are well adapted to our bodies. Some are already abundant – in healthy adults, one in every twenty gut bacteria is F. prausnitzii. These are not D-listers of the human microbiome like Lactobacillus; they are the stars of the gut. They won’t be shy about colonising it.20

I’ve learned that I am not just a poet, that poets are not just poets. If I could tell my younger self one thing about being a poet...I’d tell her that we contain multitudes.” @Nic_Sealey

mood changes, and our mood changes when we feel hungry. Psychiatric problems and digestive problems often go hand in hand. Biologists speak of a “gut–brain axis” – a two-way line of communication between the gut and the brain.

Walt Whitman was right. We do contain multitudes. Most are hard and heavy, and what a headache. But some multitudes are wondrous.

There are viruses too, in unfathomable numbers – a “virome” that infects all the other microbes and occasionally the host’s cells. We can’t see any of these minuscule specks. But if our own cells were to mysteriously disappear, they would perhaps be detectable as a ghostly microbial shimmer, outlining a now-vanished animal core.

But a single animal is full of ecosystems too. Skin, mouth, guts, genitals, any organ that connects with the outside world: each has its own characteristic community of microbes.4 All of the concepts that ecologists use to describe the continental-scale ecosystems that we see through satellites also apply to ecosystems in our bodies that we peer at with microscopes.

We need to zoom out to the entire animal kingdom, while zooming in to see the hidden ecosystems that exist in every creature.

They drive planetary cycles of carbon, nitrogen, sulphur and phosphorus, by converting these elements into compounds that can be used by animals and plants and then returning them to the world by decomposing organic bodies. They were the first organisms to make their own food, by harnessing the sun’s energy in a process called photosynthesis. They released oxygen as a waste product, pumping out so much of the gas that they permanently changed the atmosphere of our planet. It is thanks to them that we live in an oxygenated world. Even now, the photosynthetic bacteria in the oceans produce the oxygen in half the breaths you take, and they lock away an equal amount of carbon dioxide.