All my life I want money and power, respect my mind or die from lead shower.

One town's very like another when your head's down over your pieces, brother.

When a bad idea is the only idea, it becomes a great idea.

WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE PROMISED LIFE ETERNAL LIFE GLORY RICHES WHERE IS HE

Talk of other dainties, if you please, and don't ask for hens again.

Consultations with various specialists are essential for comprehensive care in the management of xanthogranulomatous pyelonephritis.

Then that overfull heat in various cranial meatus.

But all of a sudden the scene changed; it was the memory, no longer of old impressions but of an old desire, only recently reawakened by the Fortuny gown in blue and gold, that spread before me another spring, a spring not leafy at all but on the contrary suddenly stripped of its trees and flowers by the name that I had just murmured to myself: "Venice"; a decanted springtime, which is reduced to its own essence and expresses the lengthening, the warming, the gradual unfolding of its days in the progressive fermentation, no longer, now, of an impure soil, but of a blue and virginal water, springlike without bud or blossom, which could answer the call of May only by the gleaming facets fashioned and polished by May, harmonising exactly with it in the radiant, unalterable nakedness of its dusky sapphire. Likewise, too, no more than the seasons to its flowerless creeks, do modern times bring any change to the Gothic city; I knew it, even if I could not imagine it, or rather, imagining it, this was what I longed for with the same desire which long ago, when I was a boy, in the very ardour of departure, had broken and robbed me of the strength to make the journey: to find myself face to face with my Venetian imaginings, to observe how that divided sea enclosed in its meanderings, like the sinuosities of the ocean stream, and urbane and refined civilization, but one that, isolated by their azure girdle, had evolved independently, had had its own schools of painting and architecture, to admire that fabulous garden of fruits and birds in coloured stone, flowering in the midst of the sea which kept it refreshed, lapped the base of the columns with its tide, and, like a somber azure gaze watching in the shadows, kept patches of light perpetually flickering on the bold relief of the capitals.

Then I saw another beast that rose out of the earth; it had two horns like a lamb and it spoke like a dragon. It exercises all the authority of the first beast on its behalf, and it makes the earth and its inhabitants worship the first beast, whose mortal wound had been healed. It performs great signs, even making fire come down from heaven to earth in the sight of all; and by the signs that it is allowed to perform on behalf of the beast, it deceives the inhabitants of earth, telling them to make an image for the beast that had been wounded by the sword, and yet lived; and it was allowed to give breath to the image of the beast so that the image of the beast could even speak and cause those who would not worship the image of the beast to be killed. Also it causes all, both small and great, both rich and poor, both free and slave, to be marked on the right hand or the forehead, so that no one can buy or sell who does not have the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name. This calls for wisdom: let anyone with understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a person. Its number is six hundred sixty-six.

It's as if it had been done on purpose, on purpose.

The people with ideas have no power and the people with power have no ideas.

The prisoners had to be counted before being let out.

Why, once I met this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy who knew this guy's cousin.

My father died when I was 6. You knew that, right? Yeah. He had Huntington's Disease. It's-- destroys portions of the brain, affects muscle control, leads to dementia. It's just a nasty disease. It's genetic. It terrified my mother that I might have it, so they ran tests on me when I was a kid, but I came up clean. My father fell very ill when I was 4 or 5. He spent a lot of time in the hospital. My-- My mother would tell me so many stories about my father. She would talk about him all the time. I knew about his personality, how he treated people. I even knew how he liked his steaks cooked-- medium rare. Just like you. I knew things about my father. I had a lot of information. It's because people would tell me these things. They would paint this picture of my father for me, and I always pretended that was who I saw, too, who I remembered, but it was a lie. In truth, I only have one real, actual memory of my father. It must've been right before he died. My mother would take me to the hospital to visit him, and I remember the smell in there, the chemicals. It was as if they use up every single cleaning product they could find in a 50-mile radius... like they didn't want you smelling the sick people. Oh, there was this stench of Lysol and bleach. You could just feel it coating your lungs. Anyway, there, lying on the bed, is my father. He's all-- He's all twisted up. And my mom, she puts me on her lap. She's sitting on the bed next to him so I can get a good look at him... but really he just scares me... and he's looking right at me... but I can't even be sure that he knows who I am. And your grandmother is talking, trying to be cheerful, you know, as she does, but the only thing I could remember is him breathing. Oh, th-- this-- this rattling sound, like if you were shaking an empty spray-paint can. Like there was nothing in him. Anyway... that is the only real memory that I have of my father. I don't want you to think of me the way I was last night. I don't want that to be the memory you have of me when I'm gone.

Among other little guilt and antiguilt operations.

I am proud to come to this city as the guest of your distinguished Mayor, who has symbolized throughout the world the fighting spirit of West Berlin. And I am proud to visit the Federal Republic with your distinguished Chancellor, who for so many years has committed Germany to democracy and freedom and progress and to come here in the company of my fellow American, General Clay, who has been in this city during its great moments of crisis and will come again if ever needed. Two thousand years ago the proudest boast was "civis Romanus sum." Today, in the world of freedom, the proudest boast is "Ich bin ein Berliner." I appreciate my interpreter translating my German! There are many people in the world who really don't understand, or say they don't, what is the great issue between the free world and the Communist world. Let them come to Berlin. There are some who say that communism is the wave of the future. Let them come to Berlin. And there are some who say in Europe and elsewhere we can work with the Communists. Let them come to Berlin. And there are even a few who say that it is true that communism is an evil system, but it permits us to make economic progress. Lass' sie nach Berlin kommen. Let them come to Berlin. Freedom has many difficulties and democracy is not perfect, but we have never had to put a wall up to keep our people in, to prevent them from leaving us. I want to say, on behalf of my countrymen, who live many miles away on the other side of the Atlantic, who are far distant from you, that they take the greatest pride that they have been able to share with you, even from a distance, the story of the last 18 years. I know of no town, no city, that has been besieged for 18 years that still lives with the vitality and the force, and the hope and the determination of the city of West Berlin. While the wall is the most obvious and vivid demonstration of the failures of the Communist system, for all the world to see, we take no satisfaction in it, for it is, as your Mayor has said, an offense not only against history but an offense against humanity, separating families, dividing husbands and wives and brothers and sisters, and dividing a people who wish to be joined together. What is true of this city is true of Germany -- real, lasting peace in Europe can never be assured as long as one German out of four is denied the elementary right of free men, and that is to make a free choice. In 18 years of peace and good faith, this generation of Germans has earned the right to be free, including the right to unite their families and their nation in lasting peace, with good will to all people. You live in a defended island of freedom, but your life is part of the main. So let me ask you as I close, to lift your eyes beyond the dangers of today, to the hopes of tomorrow, beyond the freedom merely of this city of Berlin, or your country of Germany, to the advance of freedom everywhere, beyond the wall to the day of peace with justice, beyond yourselves and ourselves to all mankind. Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free. When all are free, then we can look forward to that day when this city will be joined as one and this country and this great Continent of Europe in a peaceful and hopeful globe. When that day finally comes, as it will, the people of West Berlin can take sober satisfaction in the fact that they were in the front lines for almost two decades. All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words "Ich bin ein Berliner."

Walk about a bit, you won't be able to walk too far.

There we found delicious fruits, and having satisfied our hunger we presently lay down to rest upon the shore. Suddenly we were aroused by a loud rustling noise, and starting up, saw that it was caused by an immense snake which was gliding towards us over the sand. So swiftly it came that it had seized one of my comrades before he had time to fly, and in spite of his cries and struggles speedily crushed the life out of him in its mighty coils and proceeded to swallow him. By this time my other companion and I were running for our lives to some place where we might hope to be safe from this new horror, and seeing a tall tree we climbed up into it, having first provided ourselves with a store of fruit off the surrounding bushes. When night came I fell asleep, but only to be awakened once more by the terrible snake, which after hissing horribly round the tree at last reared itself up against it, and finding my sleeping comrade who was perched just below me, it swallowed him also, and crawled away leaving me half dead with terror.

This led to coagulation. Which was dispersed throughout the body, or else led to bleeding, insanity, and death.

I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures.

To be honest, it's not a big deal when you're young; you know, like they say, whatever you grew up with seems normal to you. We knew that there was something that other people could see that we couldn't, but it was just something we were curious about.

Thus, sirs, you are bound to keep quiet by human and divine law.

I am now going to say something that will astonish you. The first step in the re-creation of the European Family must be a partnership between France and Germany. In this way only can France recover the moral and cultural leadership of Europe. There can be no revival of Europe without a spiritually great France and a spiritually great Germany. The structure of the United States of Europe, if well and truly built, will be such as to make the material strength of a single state less important. Small nations will count as much as large ones and gain their honour by their contribution to the common cause. The ancient states and principalities of Germany, freely joined together for mutual convenience in a federal system, might take their individual places among the United States of Europe. I shall not try to make a detailed programme for hundreds of millions of people who want to be happy and free, prosperous and safe, who wish to enjoy the four freedoms of which the great President Roosevelt spoke and live in accordance with the principles embodied in the Atlantic Charter. If this is their wish, if this is the wish of the Europeans in so many lands, they have only to say so, and means can certainly be found, and machinery erected, to carry that wish to full fruition. But I must give you a warning. Time may be short. At present there is a breathing-space. The cannons have ceased firing. The fighting has stopped, but the dangers have not stopped. If we are to form the United States of Europe, or whatever name it may take, we must begin now. In these present days we dwell strangely and precariously under the shield, and I will even say protection, of the atomic bomb. The atomic bomb is still only in the hands of a state and nation which we know will never use it except in the cause of right and freedom. But it may well be that in a few years this awful agency of destruction will be widespread and the catastrophe following from its use by several warring nations will not only bring to an end all that we call civilisation but may possibly disintegrate the globe itself. I must now sum up the propositions which are before you. Our constant aim must be to build and fortify the strength of the United Nations Organization. Under and within that world concept we must re-create the European Family in a regional structure called, it may be, the United States of Europe. And the first practical step would be to form a Council of Europe. If at first all the States of Europe are not willing or able to join the Union, we must nevertheless proceed to assemble and combine those who will and those who can. The salvation of the common people of every race and of every land from war or servitude must be established on solid foundations and must be guarded by the readiness of all men and women to die rather than submit to tyranny. In all this urgent work, France and Germany must take the lead together. Great Britain, the British Commonwealth of Nations, mighty America and I trust Soviet Russia - for then indeed all would be well - must be the friends and sponsors of the new Europe and must champion its right to live and shine. Therefore, I say to you: let Europe arise!

So the whole war is because we can't talk to each other.

Whether we realize it or not, the culture in which we live, and with which we identify, powerfully shapes just about every aspect of our being.

I walked through the door with you; the air was cold. But something about it felt like home somehow. And I left my scarf there at your sister's house, and you've still got it in your drawer, even now. Oh, your sweet disposition, and my wide-eyed gaze. We're singing in the car getting lost upstate. Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and I can picture it after all these days. And I know it's long gone and that magic's not here no more. And I might be okay but I'm not fine at all. 'Cause there we are again on that little town street. You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over at me. Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well. Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red. You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-sized bed. And your mother's telling stories 'bout you on the tee ball team. You told me 'bout your past thinking your future was me. And I know it's long gone and there was nothing else I could do, and I forget about you long enough to forget why I needed to. 'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night. We're dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well. Well, maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. Or maybe this thing was a masterpiece, so you tore it all up. Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well. And you call me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest. I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here 'cause I remember it all, all, all too well. Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it. I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it. After plaid shirt days and nights where you made me your own. Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone. But you keep my old scarf from that very first week, 'cause it reminds you of innocence, and it smells like me. You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well. And there we are again when I loved you so. Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well. Wind in my hair, you were there, you remember it all. Down the stairs, you were there, you remember it all. It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.

You speak in abbreviations because real life conversation moves too slowly. You're the media's creation, yeah, your free will has been taken and you don't know.

Stratton envisioned a day when the human species could survive as long as its own behavior allowed, when it could stand or fall based purely on its own actions, and not simply vanish once some predetermined life span had elapsed. Other species might bloom and wither like flowers over seasons of geologic time, but humans would endure for as long as they determined.

Note to self - really fire Malek this time. He's so far beyond unhinged, it's not even funny any more.

It looks like we might have made it. Yes, it looks like we've made it to the end.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate - we can not consecrate - we can not hallow - this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain - that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom - and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.

The people we love are the ones who hurt us the most, after all.

I wanna live the stories I write, see the whole world with my own eyes, take the unknown trail and hear the songs the night sings. I wanna feel the flame when it burns, wanna feel the pain when it hurts, take the unknown trail and hear the songs the night sings.

His smile was unlike the half-smile of other people.

The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.

I have a first place ribbon in doing nothing... it's the same ribbon as last place.

Every young lady may feel for my heroine in this critical moment, for every young lady has at some time or other known the same agitation. All have been, or at least all have believed themselves to be, in danger from the pursuit of some one they wished to avoid; and all have been anxious for the attentions of someone they wished to please.

This is all that his foreign education has done for him!

Now balding smoothly back from a high clear forehead.

The hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flower bed outside number four. He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Harry Potter's appearance did not endear him to the neighbors, who were the sort of people who thought scruffiness ought to be punishable by law, but as he had hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to passersby.

When you're walking down the path of cultivation, when you turn your head you can't see where you came from, and when you look at the path ahead, it is shrouded in fog.

Existence, well what does it matter? I exist on the best terms I can. The past is now part of my future, the present is well out of hand.

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.

The Purposes of the United Nations are: 1. To maintain international peace and security, and to that end: to take effective collective measures for the prevention and removal of threats to the peace, and for the suppression of acts of aggression or other breaches of the peace, and to bring about by peaceful means, and in conformity with the principles of justice and international law, adjustment or settlement of international disputes or situations which might lead to a breach of the peace; 2. To develop friendly relations among nations based on respect for the principle of equal rights and self-determination of peoples, and to take other appropriate measures to strengthen universal peace; 3. To achieve international co-operation in solving international problems of an economic, social, cultural, or humanitarian character, and in promoting and encouraging respect for human rights and for fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language, or religion; and 4. To be a centre for harmonizing the actions of nations in the attainment of these common ends.

And I further declare and make known, that such persons of suitable condition, will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service.

He used to cling close to his father, trembling all over when he met them.

Put it on ya. If we're moving too fast, we can slow up. Baby, this far from mediocre. You know the vibes, know the vibes.

The brunt again, to their way of thinking, remember.

Maybe the worst part is how I end up worse off. Comments made, voices raised, my trauma triggered war scars.

He put his arms round his father but he felt choked, choked.

Secrets have power, and that power diminishes when they are shared, so they are best kept and kept well. Sharing secrets, real secrets, important ones, with even one other person, will change them. Writing them down is worse, because who can tell how many eyes might see them inscribed on paper, no matter how careful you might be with it. So it's really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.

You must know, sire, that my father was Mahmoud, the king of this country, the Black Isles, so called from the four little mountains which were once islands, while the capital was the place where now the great lake lies. My story will tell you how these changes came about.

And here is the revised DNA strand, repaired by the computer. The operation you've witnessed would have taken months in a conventional lab, but we can do it in seconds.

Your papa invited him to sit down, but he didn't respond.

I should like to help you as far as lies in my power.

Some people live for the fortune Some people live just for the fame Some people live for the power, yeah Some people live just to play the game.

The publication of my first story had raised my spirits, but it couldn't spur my writing.

My message is that we'll be watching you. This is all wrong. I shouldn't be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean. Yet you all come to us young people for hope. How dare you! You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I'm one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction, and all you can talk about is money and fairy tales of eternal economic growth. How dare you! For more than 30 years, the science has been crystal clear. How dare you continue to look away and come here saying that you're doing enough, when the politics and solutions needed are still nowhere in sight. You say you hear us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I do not want to believe that. Because if you really understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil. And that I refuse to believe. The popular idea of cutting our emissions in half in 10 years only gives us a 50% chance of staying below 1.5 degrees Celsius, and the risk of setting off irreversible chain reactions beyond human control. Fifty percent may be acceptable to you. But those numbers do not include tipping points, most feedback loops, additional warming hidden by toxic air pollution or the aspects of equity and climate justice. They also rely on my generation sucking hundreds of billions of tons of your CO2 out of the air with technologies that barely exist. So, a 50% risk is simply not acceptable to us - we who have to live with the consequences. To have a 67% chance of staying below a 1.5 degrees Celsius global temperature rise - the best odds given by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change - the world had 420 gigatons of CO2 left to emit back on January 1st, 2018. Today that figure is already down to less than 350 gigatons. How dare you pretend that this can be solved with just business as usual and some technical solutions? With today's emission levels, that remaining CO2 budget will be entirely gone within less than 8 1/2 years. There will not be any solutions or plans presented in line with these figures here today, because these numbers are too uncomfortable. And you are still not mature enough to tell it like it is. You are failing us. But young people are starting to understand your betrayal. The eyes of all future generations are upon you. And if you choose to fail us, I say: We will never forgive you. We will not let you get away with this. Right here, right now is where we draw the line. The world is waking up. And change is coming, whether you like it or not. Thank you.

If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

It's an old text. The verses are familiar to me, but I don't remember by whom they were written. The language is very old and intricate. The first verse starts by drawing a comparison between the world and a tangled rug. It says that the world is an unfortunate mess. Like a knot, the nature of its existence is the fact that the parts are locking each other, none able to spring free. Then as it goes on the world becomes a furry animal hide, I suppose... because now us living beings are like insects crawling in the fur. And then it's a fishing net, because the more we struggle and squirm, the more entangled we become. It says that only the limp body of the jellyfish cannot be captured in the net. So we should try to be like the jellyfish, because the jellyfish doesn't try. This was an eternal dilemma to them - they were burdened by great ambition, yet deeply convinced that striving in itself was an unforgivable vice. They tried very hard to be effortless. Perhaps that's what we were to them, someone to delegate that unrestrained effort to. I know I have tried very hard.

I get it. This won't stop until I die. But when I die, I want it to hurt. When my friends leave, when I have to let go, when this entire town is wiped off the map, I want it to hurt. Bad. I want to lose. I want to get beaten up. I want to hold on until I'm thrown off and everything ends. And you know what? Until that happens, I want to hope again. And I want it to hurt. Because that means it meant something. It means I am something, at least... pretty amazing to be something, at least...

One day the notes would be of use to me, as they are now.

He had ruined more than one horse in their service.

Dounia was at once asked to give lessons in several families, but she refused. All of a sudden everyone began to treat her with marked respect and all this did much to bring about the event by which, one may say, our whole fortunes are now transformed. You must know, dear Rodya, that Dounia has a suitor and that she has already consented to marry him. I hasten to tell you all about the matter, and though it has been arranged without asking your consent, I think you will not be aggrieved with me or with your sister on that account, for you will see that we could not wait and put off our decision till we heard from you.

Xanthogranulomatous pyelonephritis is a rare, aggressive variant of pyelonephritis, typically caused by chronic infection and nephrolithiasis.

The incommodities of such a war. Whatever is the case in a time of war, where every man is an enemy to every man, the same is true when men live without any other security besides what can be gained by their own strength and invention. In such a condition there is no industry, because its fruit would be uncertain. There is no culture of the earth, no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea. There is no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing those things that require much force. There is no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters and no society. Worst of all there is continual fear and danger of violent death, and the life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.

If instead you are processing something that is textual in nature, such as program output, HTML, email content, or CSV or XML files, you'll probably want to use str and text-mode files.

And by virtue of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States, and parts of States, are, and henceforward shall be free; and that the Executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.

He could not imagine how he could speak to her now.

I thought it over at night, and found out the mistake.

Well, there's a bit of every artist in their work.

Only, we must allow time. But our demands as far as time is concerned are no less exorbitant than those which the heart requires in order to change. For one thing, time is the very thing that we are least willing to allow, for our suffering is acute and we are anxious to see it brought to an end. And then, too, the time which the other heart will need in order to change will have been spent by our own heart in changing itself too, so that when the goal we had set ourselves becomes attainable it will have ceased to be our goal.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

In the great grand scheme of things, we're just tiny specks that will one day be forgotten. So, it doesn't matter what we did in the past, or how we'll be remembered. The only thing that matters is right now: this moment, this one spectacular moment we are sharing together.

It has come to my attention that some have lately called me a collaborator, as if such a term were shameful. I ask you, what greater endeavor exists than that of collaboration? In our current unparalleled enterprise, refusal to collaborate is simply a refusal to grow--an insistence on suicide, if you will. Did the lungfish refuse to breathe air? It did not. It crept forth boldly while its brethren remained in the blackest ocean abyss, with lidless eyes forever staring at the dark, ignorant and doomed despite their eternal vigilance. Would we model ourselves on the trilobite? Are all the accomplishments of humanity fated to be nothing more than a layer of broken plastic shards thinly strewn across a fossil bed, sandwiched between the Burgess shale and an eon's worth of mud? In order to be true to our nature, and our destiny, we must aspire to greater things. We have outgrown our cradle. It is futile to cry for mother's milk, when our true sustenance awaits us among the stars. And only the universal union that small minds call 'The Combine' can carry us there. Therefore I say, yes, I am a collaborator. We must all collaborate, willingly, eagerly, if we expect to reap the benefits of unification. And reap we shall.

Then no matter where you are, in a crowded restaurant or on some desolate street or even in the comforts of your own home, you'll watch yourself dismantle every assurance you ever lived by. You'll stand aside as a great complexity intrudes, tearing apart, piece by piece, all of your carefully conceived denials, whether deliberate or unconscious. And then for better or worse you'll turn, unable to resist, though try to resist you still will, fighting with everything you've got not to face the thing you most dread, what is now, what will be, what has always come before, the creature you truly are, the creature we all are, buried in the nameless black of a name. And then the nightmares will begin.

A knowledge system can be defined in terms of four characteristics: epistemology, a theory of knowledge giving an account of what counts as knowledge and how we know what we know; transmission, dealing with how knowledge is conveyed or acquired, with how it is learned and taught; power, both external (how knowledge communities relate to other knowledge communities) and internal (how members of a given knowledge community relate to one another); and innovation, how what counts as knowledge may be changed or modified. The systemic nature of knowledge is due to the reciprocal influence of these four characteristics upon one another: how we know, how we learn and teach, how we innovate, and how power figures in this are linked.

'So if I'm not black enough and if I'm not white enough, then tell me, Tony, what am I?'

Whatever the people ordain last shall be legally valid.

Nature has made us intolerant to change, but fortunately, we have the capacity to change our nature.

We've known each other for many years but this is the first time you've ever come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though my wife is Godmother to your only child. But, let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship and you were afraid to be in my debt.

Since you are reading this, chances are you've installed this game on your computer already. If this is true, like many others, you have just participated in bringing about the end of the world.

It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.

Late into the night I write and the pages of my notebook swell from all the words I've pressed onto them. It almost feels like the more I bruise the page the quicker something inside me heals.

I thought if I could make something so good, so pure, maybe I'm not a monster.

Although it is a common practice in calculus courses to discuss continuity before differentiation, historically mathematicians' attention to the concept of continuity came long after the derivative was in wide use. Pierre de Fermat (1601-1665) was using tangent lines to solve optimization problems as early as 1629. On the other hand, it was not until around 1820 that Cauchy, Bolzano, Weierstrass, and others began to characterize continuity in terms more rigorous than prevailing intuitive notions such as "unbroken curves" or "functions which have no jumps or gaps." The basic reason for this two-hundred year waiting period lies in the fact that, for most of this time, the very notion of function did not really permit discontinuities. Functions were entities such as polynomials, sines, and cosines, always smooth and continuous over their relevant domains. The gradual liberation of the term function to its modern understanding-a rule associating a unique output with a given input-was simultaneous with 19th century investigations into the behavior of infinite series. Extensions of the power of calculus were intimately tied to the ability to represent a function f(x) as a limit of polynomials (called a power series) or as a limit of sums of sines and cosines (called a trigonometric or Fourier series). A typical question for Cauchy and his contemporaries was whether the continuity of the limiting polynomials or trigonometric functions necessarily implied that the limit f would also be continuous.

He spoke so rapidly that he did not finish half his words, but his son was accustomed to understand him. He led him to the desk, raised the lid, drew out a drawer, and took out an exercise book filled with his bold, tall, close handwriting.

The past is now part of my future, the present is well out of hand.

Well yeah, it's a death-trap, but a really powerful death trap. What, you suddenly care about safety now?

To realize one's destiny is a person's only obligation.

This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit. It was inevitable, perhaps, but not unavoidable. Everyone makes mistakes. The greatest wizard in history made the mistake of sharing his secrets. And his secrets were both magic and important, so it was a rather serious mistake.

Clearly, at some time in the Long-Ago of human decay the Morlocks' food had run short. Possibly they had lived on rats and such-like vermin. Even now man is far less discriminating and exclusive in his food than he was - far less than any monkey. His prejudice against human flesh is no deep-seated instinct. And so these inhuman sons of men-! I tried to look at the thing in a scientific spirit. After all, they were less human and more remote than our cannibal ancestors of three or four thousand years ago. And the intelligence that would have made this state of things a torment had gone. Why should I trouble myself? These Eloi were mere fatted cattle, which the ant-like Morlocks preserved and preyed upon - probably saw to the breeding of.

Everyone knows physical beauty has nothing to do with merit; that's what education's accomplished. But even with the best intentions in the world, people haven't stopped practicing lookism. We try to be impartial, we try not to let a person's appearance affect us, but we can't suppress our autonomic responses, and anyone who claims they can is engaged in wishful thinking. Ask yourself: don't you react differently when you meet an attractive person and when you meet an unattractive one? Every study on this issue turns up the same results: looks help people get ahead. We can't help but think of good-looking people as more competent, more honest, more deserving than others. None of it's true, but their looks still give us that impression.

I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel - not that there is another gospel, but there are some who are confusing you and want to pervert the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven should proclaim to you a gospel contrary to what we proclaimed to you, let that one be accursed!

He found himself standing under a row of trees. But not hornbeam trees: these were tall palms, and they were growing, like the trees in Oxford, in a row along the grass. But this was the center of a broad boulevard, and at the side of the boulevard was a line of cafes and small shops, all brightly lit, all open, and all utterly silent and empty beneath a sky thick with stars. The hot night was laden with the scent of flowers and with the salt smell of the sea.

DON'T WRITE BACK THEY'LL PROBLY SIKOWANALIZE YOUR LETTER.

Look around. What do you see? People in costumes, horns, false jewels, adorning themselves in tiny layers of illusion. They stand up straighter, suck in their stomachs, say things they don't mean, indulge in flattery. They commit a thousand small acts of deception, lying to each other, lying to themselves, drinking to the point of delusion to make it easier. This is a night of compacts, between the seers and the seen, a night when people enter false bargains willingly, hoping to be duped and to dupe in turn for the pleasure of feeling brave or sexy or beautiful or simply wanted - no matter how fleetingly.

We also constantly give thanks to God for this, that when you received the word of God that you heard from us, you accepted it not as a human word but as what it really is, God's word, which is also at work in you believers. For you, brothers and sisters, became imitators of the churches of God in Christ Jesus that are in Judea, for you suffered the same things from your own compatriots as they did from the Jews, who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets, and drove us out; they displease God and oppose everyone by hindering us from speaking to the Gentiles so that they may be saved. Thus they have constantly been filling up the measure of their sins; but God's wrath had overtaken them at last.

When a bad idea is the only idea, it becomes a great idea.

The sounds were like that of a domestic dog being given low voltage.

I should like to help you as far as lies in my power.

One day the notes would be of use to me, as they are now.

All my life I want money and power, respect my mind or die from lead shower.

Every young lady may feel for my heroine in this critical moment, for every young lady has at some time or other known the same agitation. All have been, or at least all have believed themselves to be, in danger from the pursuit of some one they wished to avoid; and all have been anxious for the attentions of someone they wished to please.

I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.

Your struggle is your life. Your struggle is your gift. See, many people look at struggle like it's a bad thing. Your struggle will be the gift that the world falls in love with. Nobody wants to hear the story of the man that was given everything. People want to hear the stories of men, and women that endured pain and turned their struggles into a gift. Do you want people just to feel sorry for you? Or do you want people to look up to you? Do you want to be a legend? Because legends are born in the valley of struggle.

According to legend, Father Earth did not originally hate life. In fact, as the lorists tell it, once upon a time Earth did everything he could to facilitate the strange emergence of life on his surface. He crafted even, predictable seasons; kept changes of wind and wave and temperature slow enough that every living being could adapt, evolve; summoned waters that purified themselves, skies that always cleared after a storm. He did not create life - that was happenstance - but he was pleased and fascinated by it, and proud to nurture such strange wild beauty upon his surface. Then people began to do horrible things to Father Earth. They poisoned waters beyond even his ability to cleanse, and killed much of the other life that lived on his surface. They drilled through the crust of his skin, past the blood of his mantle, to get at the sweet marrow of his bones. And at the height of human hubris and might, it was the orogenes who did something that even Earth could not forgive: They destroyed his only child.

And here is the revised DNA strand, repaired by the computer. The operation you've witnessed would have taken months in a conventional lab, but we can do it in seconds.

It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.

I believe in America. America has my fortune. And I raised my daughter in the American freedom. I gave her the freedom, but I taught her never to dishonor her family. She found a boyfriend; not an Italian. She went to the movies with him; she stayed out late. I didn't protest. Two months ago, he took her for a drive, with another boyfriend. They made her drink whiskey. And they tried to take advantage of her. She resisted. She kept her honor. So they beat her, like an animal. When I went to the hospital, her nose was broken. Her jaw was shutted, held together by wire. She couldn't even weep because of the pain. But I wept. Why did I weep? She was the light of my life... beautiful girl. Now she will never be beautiful again.

Although web clients can often parse information in the replies from websites (a technique colorfully known as "screen scraping"), we might go further and provide a more direct way to fetch records on the Web via a web services interface such as SOAP or XML-RPC calls--APIs supported by either Python itself or the third-party open source domain, which generally map data to and from XML format for transmission. To Python scripts, such APIs return data more directly than text embedded in the HTML of a reply page.

Every environment has its rules and customs, and your survival often depends on knowing them. In Russia, you never refuse vodka; in Pakistan, you always clear your dinner plate; and in prison, you're careful about making eye contact. Too little eye contact, and you become a victim. Too much eye contact, and you become a threat. Either way, you're never more than a couple of blinks away from getting a shiv in your back.

What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun? One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again. All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.

I'm burning through the sky, yeah Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit I'm travelling at the speed of light I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

You leapt from crumbling bridges watching cityscapes turn to dust. Filming helicopters crashing in the ocean from way above. Got the music in you baby, tell me why? Got the music in you baby, tell me why? You've been locked in here forever and you just can't say goodbye. Kisses on the foreheads of the lovers wrapped in your arms. You've been hiding them in hollowed-out pianos left in the dark. Got the music in you baby, tell me why? Got the music in you baby, tell me why? You've been locked in here forever and you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips, Apocalypse. Your lips, my lips, Apocalypse. Go and sneak us through the rivers, Flood is rising up on your knees. Oh, please Come out and haunt me, I know you want me. Come out and haunt me. Sharing all your secrets with each other since you were kids. Sleeping soundly with the locket that she gave you clutched in your fist. Got the music in you baby, tell me why? Got the music in you baby, tell me why? You've been locked in here forever and you just can't say goodbye. You've been locked in here forever and you just can't say goodbye.

Try me. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. No scans. No nothing. One move and I'll destroy us all, you got that? TARDIS bang bang, Daleks boom! Good boy.