It’s okay. I’m—” “Fine?” Joseph chimed in. “Obviously not. You need to be checked out by a doctor.” “I am a doctor.” I rolled my eyes at him, but that didn’t deter him from his train of thought. “Not that kind of doctor.” �...
Por esta solidão, que não consente Nem do sol, nem da lua a claridade, Ralado o peito pela saudade Dou mil gemidos a Marília ausente: De seus crimes a mancha inda recente Lava Amor, e triunfa da verdade; A beleza, apesar da falsidade, Me ocupa o c...
The most essential prediction of Darwinism is that, given an astronomical number of chances, unintelligent processes can make seemingly-designed systems, ones of the complexity of those found in the cell. ID specifically denies this, predicting that ...
I'd suffered many losses in recent years after my father mother uncle aunt and cousin had all passed away. In her final years my mother often lamented that there was no one alive who had known her as a girl and I was starting to understand how spooke...
The more formidable the contradiction between inexhaustible life-joy and inevitable fate, the greater the longing which reveals itself in the kingdom of poetry and in the self-created world of dreams hopes to banish the dark power of reality. The god...
In the aftermath of the recent wave action in the Indian Ocean, even the archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Rowan Williamson [ ], proved himself a latter-day Voltairean by whimpering that he could see how this might shake belief in a friendly creator. Wil...
Mrs. Clinton, speaking to a black church audience on Martin Luther King Day last year, did describe President George W. Bush as treating the Congress of the United States like 'a plantation,' adding in a significant tone of voice that 'you what I mea...
[I]f Modi toast, it will in one sense be a tremendous pity. In his way, he represents a third generation in cricket's governance. For a hundred years and more, cricket was run by administrators, who essentially maintained the game without going out o...
For more than half a century I have tried to confront greatness directly, hardly a fashionable stance, but I see no other justification for literary criticism in the shadows of our Evening Land. Over time the strong poets settle these matters for the...
I recently heard a talk about identity in which the speaker said it's almost as though we are born into a world in which we are constantly being labeled by others -- our parents, our friends, our family, and people we don't even know. Each person, fr...
It is no longer just engineers who dominate our technology leadership, because it is no longer the case that computers are so mysterious that only engineers can understand what they are capable of. There is an industry-wide shift toward more "product...
Older Scout: [narrating] Maycomb was a tired old town, even in 1932 when I first knew it. Somehow, it was hotter then. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning; ladies bathed before noon, after their 3 o'clock naps, and by nightfall were lik...
(A) trip to the attic is an excursion into history, and...all over the world the present unravels beneath the stored detritus of the past; that's what attics are for.
There's no way you can get the past right. You can pretend. You can delude yourself, but you can't re-create what's over.
The terror takes you. The cage is locked and the curtain drawn. Fingers dance along as blades, carving memories into your flesh that will leave scars long past being healed.
I don't want you to have to handle it. That's the horror of my past. But you...you're the reality of my present. You're the proof I survived. The prize in the cereal box.
Sports can unite worlds, tear down walls and transcend race, the past, and all probability. Unlike life, sport matters.
My parents...were people running from the past, who didn't look back at much if they could help it, and whose whole life always lay somewhere in the offing.
The past attracts me, the present frightens me, because the future is death.
I would die for you. You know that. I would die without you. If it were not for you, I would be dead a hundred times over these past five years.
If you see an old man talking to himself, he might not be a fool or crazy. He might be sharing a conversation with the past, warmed by a memory he need not reveal.
