The author was a popular figure in France, where his originality was quickly recognized. That this Russian was newly appreciated is attested by his having been asked to contribute to a prestigious French philosophy journal.
xxx/ellauri103.html on line 257: I’m from a small rural community, and ev’rybody who lived in my neighborhood, if you want to call it that, were relatives. We called it “the circle,” and our house was there, my grandmother’s house was there, an aun’ an’ uncle who were childless lived there, and (uh) a couple of aunts an’ uncles who had children. There were five female cousins, an’ in the summertime we hung out together all day long from early until late. In my grandmother’s yard was a maple tree, and the five of us developed that into our apartment building. Each of us had a limb, and [small laugh] the less daring cousins took the lo’er limbs, and I and another cousin a year younger than I always went as far to the top as we could, an’ we– we were kinda derisive of those girls who stayed with the lower limbs. We had front doors an’ back doors. The front door was the — the limb — were the limbs on the front, that were nearest (um) the boxwood hedge. And the grass was all worn away in that area. An’ then the back doorwa–was on the back side of the tree, an’ you could only enter the front an’ exit from the rear. And that had to be done by swinging off a limb that was fairly high off the ground, and (um) my cousin Belinda and I had no problem with that, but the other girls — that was always somethin’ we had to coax them into doin’. But still, you entered the front, you left the rear. We (um) ate our lunches together. When it was lunchtime — an’ our mothers always cooked lunch in the summertime ’cause they didn’ want to be in the hot kitchen at night. So we would just take our (um) — go home, an’ we’d load our plates with all the vegetables an’ the cornbread, an’ get our glasses of milk or ice tea or whatever we were havin’, an’ we would head for somebody’s yard, where we would all sit down an’ eat together. It was just an institution: lunch in somebody’s yard. An’ if you wanted to go home for a second helping– sometimes that was quite a little walk, but it was worth it, because that was our thing, having lunch together, every day. (Um) We gathered at my grandmother’s on Sundays. All my aunts would get those chairs, form a circle. (Uh) One crocheted. (Uh) Most of them just sat an’ talked, an’ we girls hung out for the main part with the women. (Uh) The men would gather around the fish pond, which was in a side yard. It was (um) — it was kind of a rock (um) pond that my granddaddy had, had built. There was a ir’n pipe in the middle, an’ when he went fishin’, he would put his catch in there. Or he caught a mud turtle, he’d put it in there. An’ there it stayed until it was time to kill it an’ cook it, whatever it was. The pipe in the middle had water that sprayed up all the time. There was a locust tree near there, an’ that’s where we girls picked the leaves an’ the thorns to make the doll clothes out o’ the locust. It’s where we always ate the watermelon. We always had to save the rind, an’ we always had to leave some pink on that rind, because my grandmother made watermelon pickles out o’ that rind. I hated the things. I thought they were the worst things I ever put in my mouth. But ever’body else thought watermelon pickles were just a great delicacy. That was also around the time that ev’rybody grew gladiolias [sic] an’ I thought they were the ugliest flower I’d ever laid my eyes on, but ever’body had gladiolias. ‘Course now I’ve come to appreciate the gladiolia, but back then I had absolutely no appreciation for it. It was also where we made (uh) ice cream, (uh) on the front porch. We made ice cream on Sunday afternoons. I had an aunt who worked in the general mercantile business that my family owned, an’ she was only home on Sunday, so she baked all day: homemade rolls an’ cakes. And so, she made cakes an’ we made ice cream, an’ ever’body wan’ed to crank, of course. (Um) That was just a big treat, to get to crank that ice cream. It was jus’ our Sunday afternoon thing, an’ I, I think back on it. All the aunts would sit around an’ they’d talk, an’ they’d smoke. Even if you never saw those ladies smoke, any other time o’ the week. On Sunday afternoon when we all were gathered about in gran- in granny’s yard, they’d have a cigarette. Just a way of relaxing, I suppose. The maple tree’s now gone. In later years, it was thought the maple tree, our apartment building, was shading the house too much an’ causing mildew, so it was removed at some point. And I don’t, to this day, enjoy lookin’ (uh) into that part o’ the yard. …
xxx/ellauri116.html on line 272: Don Rigoberto is compulsive about his personal cleanliness and his bodily functions. He appreciates them as marvelous and necessary, to be worshipped both for their sake as well as for the sake and welfare of the whole body. He devotes a day a week to the care of a different member or organ: Monday, hands; Tuesday, feet; Wednesday, ears; Thursday, nose; Friday, hair...
xxx/ellauri122.html on line 787: Left tormented and in isolation, the innocent creature turns on his creator in this eloquent Gothic thriller, which touches the hearts of readers with its messages of the dangers of science and human judgment. This helps appreciate pro life ideas: do not meddle with what belongs to Mighty Mouse territory.
xxx/ellauri124.html on line 391: “No need to respond, but wanted you to know how much I appreciate having you in my life.”
xxx/ellauri125.html on line 307: Though only 40 minutes long, “Yeezus” weighs a ton, heavy with gravity and mouthiness, yowls, synthetic noise, deep beats and screams. A multi-dimensional contradiction, West tosses out rhyme-schemed similes that employ racial ideas rich with symbolism but often in service of harsh lyrics that suggests he either doesn’t appreciate or care about original intent.
xxx/ellauri129.html on line 447: I appreciate the novella has a plot, but this strength is not enough to overcome the story´s weaknesses, which for me were 1) overly long paragraphs of narrative--one went for almost six pages, and 2) a lack of understanding until almost halfway through the story what the stakes for the protagonist were.
xxx/ellauri129.html on line 666: Elizabeth realized how narrow her legal victory had been; while she had escaped confinement, it was largely a measure of luck. The underlying social principles which had led to her confinement still existed. She founded the Anti-Insane Asylum Society and published several books, including Marital Power Exemplified, or Three Years Imprisonment for Religious Belief (1864), Great Disclosure of Spiritual Wickedness in High Places (1865), The Mystic Key or the Asylum Secret Unlocked (1866), and The Prisoners' Hidden Life, Or Insane Asylums Unveiled (1868). In 1867, the State of Illinois passed a "Bill for the Protection of Personal Liberty" which guaranteed that all people accused of insanity, including wives, had the right to a public hearing. She also saw similar laws passed in three other states. Even so, she was strongly attacked by medical professionals and anonymous citizens, unlike others such as Dorothea Dix, with her former doctor from the Jacksonville Insane Asylum, Dr. McFarland, who privately called her "a sort of Joan D'Arc in the matter of stirring up the personal prejudices". As such, Elizabeth's work on this front was "broadly unappreciated" while she was alive. She only received broader recognition, starting in the 1930s, by a well-known historian of mental illness, Albert Deutsch, and again in the 1960s from those who were "attacking the medical model of insanity".
xxx/ellauri138.html on line 287: This was the second defibrillator he'd had after the first had to be replaced. Philip's original defibrillator had pride of place on the kitchen table. When he first handed it to me, I had no idea what it was and palmed the smooth metal disc in my hand. I almost dropped it when he started laughing and told me its original purpose. Over time, I came to appreciate it too and when I was alone in the kitchen, I often picked it up and held it in my hand. We called each other Toots. I found out Philip died when a friend called me at work. I swivelled around in my office chair and googled Philip Roth. There he was on the front page of The New York Times. Dead.
xxx/ellauri149.html on line 370: Jesus was able to show the film to Pope Paul VI. Ted Neeley later remembered that the pope "openly loved what he saw. He said, 'Mr. Jesus, not only do I appreciate your beautiful rock opera film, I believe it will bring more people around the world to Christianity, than anything ever has before.'"For the Pope, Mary Magdalene's song "I Don't Know How to Love Him" "had an inspired beauty".
xxx/ellauri157.html on line 154: This website is constantly being improved. We would appreciate hearing from you demons.
xxx/ellauri178.html on line 326: Q: Hey Jay! Have you ever dealt with the Christian’s response to medications that are designed to help men with E.D.? I’m into my 60’s now and the equipment just don't work like it used to. I am contemplating getting some help. I would appreciate your response. Thanks.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 390: “The bourgeois appreciates?” Papa laughed big and drank his grappa and picked up the walking stick. The two Americans sat drinking their grappas at the bar. One had taped up glasses and the other had messy grey-flaked hair. The one with the glasses listened closely. The other just drank.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 488: “I've come to appreciate this. The harsh details in the background with the stillness in the foreground here—” It was Swans Reflecting Elephants by Dalí. “See this arrogant son of a bitch, Juice, missing the scene. The elephants standing on the shore and the swans floating over them.” Behind the swans grew trees, twisting to the sky. “He's so arrogant. And ignorant. He walked all the way from the town up the hill in the distance and here he's facing away with his hand on his hip. He can't see the color of the sky different from the reflection in the pond.”
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 769: Thank you, really appreciated reading this. I am new to the chicken game and learning on a daily basis. Today one of mine was egg-bound, she seems fine now though and I saw her and another eating her egg yolk but I’m a bit concerned it broke insider her. If you have any advice, would love to know. I am googling and also likely to take to the vet on Monday (it is Saturday so vets not open). Thanks again, well written blog!
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 801: Mencken praised women, though he believed they should remain in the background of industry and politics. In personal letters especially, Mencken would write that women should appreciate men and do their best to support them. Although Mencken did not intend to demean women, his description of his "ideal scene" with a woman in the 1922 edition was not conventionally progressive:
xxx/ellauri229.html on line 753: By faith alone appreciated.
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