It seems that all eukaryotic cells either have, or once had (and then lost) mitochondria. In other words, possession of mitochondria is a sine qua non of the eukaryotic condition
Shalt thou give law to God, shalt thou dispute With Him the points of liberty who made Thee what thou art and formed the pow'rs of Heav'n Such as He pleased and circumscribed their being?
A dungeon horrible, on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed; yet from those flames No light; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe
At the beginning of a pestilence and when it ends, there's always a propensity for rhetoric. In the first case, habits have not yet been lost; in the second, they're returning. It is in the thick of a calamity that one gets hardened to the truth - in...
If you are lost, I will find you. If you are in danger, I will protect you," he said seriously. "It's what a gentleman does, Elysse." ~Alexi de Warenne to Elysse O'Neil
Love, they say, enslaves and passion is a demon and many have been lost for love. I know this is true, but I know too that without love we grope the tunnels of our lives and never see the sun.
Dios mio, I think my brother lost his balls somewhere between here and Mexico. Or maybe Brittany has them zipped inside that fancy purse (of hers).
American socialism had lost momentum even before the war. (Socialist leader Norman Thomas received 885,000 votes in his 1932 run for the presidency, but only 187,500 in 1936.)
When you translate the Bible with excessive literalism, you demythologize it. The possibility of a convincing reference to the individual's own spiritual experience is lost. (111)
There is something awe-inspiring in one who has lost all inhibitions, who will do anything. Of course we make him pay afterward for his moment of superiority, his moment of impressiveness.
I’m looking for lost, but I don’t think I’ll ever find it, because the moment I do find it, it isn’t. Still, I’ll bet I find it before I find love.
I was in Love once. I think I stayed at a Holiday Inn. Or maybe I was in Loveland, Co. But either way it felt great to be so directionless and unaware of my surroundings and so utterly lost.
I don’t trust mutes. By their silence, I wonder what they’re hiding. The lost Templar treasure, mysteries of the universe, my love for you—who knows what they could have hidden away.
There are all kinds of darkness, and all kinds of things can be found in them, imprisoned, banished, lost or hidden. Sometimes they escape. Sometimes they simply fall out. Sometimes they just can't take it any more.
If you're brave enough to try, you might be able to catch a train from UnLondon to Parisn't, or No York, or Helsunki, or Lost Angeles, or Sans Francisco, or Hong Gone, or Romeless.
Da used to say that lies were easy, but trust was hard. Trust is like faith: it can turn people into believers, but every time it's lost, trust becomes harder and harder to win back.
Her voice is raw. She sings from the deepest cracks of her heart and her soul. When she closes her eyes, I know she has lost herself in the music. - Unrequited
When he finished cleaning my open wounds, he found a jar of salve and began rubbing it into the rough parts of my skin. I sort of got lost in the feel of his hands massaging mine.
The feelings that still linger, decade after decade, aren’t just the residue of a love lost. They are as real as the first day I told her I loved her." ~Corbin Jones, Voice of Innocence
He looked so lost, so soulful, so lonely. I wanted him to kiss me now. I wanted to let him know I was his for all eternity.
His whisper continued to stream a silent cacophony of warnings, kill and damage reports and pleas for assistance. He allowed himself two seconds to watch it and came away with the sense they were losing. Not lost and not soon, but losing.
