ellauri037.html on line 371: Knock knock, who's there, it's Adolf's heartchen knocking.
ellauri037.html on line 374: our bouncing boy, thank God and knock on wood, is well,
ellauri052.html on line 757: He came to consciousness again, hearing an immense knocking outside. What could be happening, what was it, the great hammer-stroke resounding through the house? He did not know. And then it came to him that it was his own heart beating. But that seemed impossible, the noise was outside. No, it was inside himself, it was his own heart. And the beating was painful, so strained, surcharged. He wondered if Gerald heard it. He did not know whether he were standing or lying or falling.
ellauri061.html on line 389: knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade: turpaan saaneena hauturin lapiosta;
ellauri061.html on line 401: suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the tän törkymöykyn paiskia likaisella lapparilla nuppiaan,
ellauri063.html on line 61: Luxemburg was knocked down with a rifle butt by the soldier Otto Runge, then shot in the head, either by Lieutenant Kurt Vogel or by Lieutenant Hermann Souchon. Her body was flung into Berlin's Landwehr Canal.
ellauri073.html on line 275: Quickly on your attacks on Wallace's writing style, I will mention that -- contrary to your rather baffling notions -- people did enjoy Infinite Jest and other works of his. They will continue to do so for decades. Listen Fartey: his work will live on. People recognize great writing wherever it materializes. Forget your distaste of footnotes, or your struggle in understanding the themes and ideals his work encompasses. His audience is clearly beyond you, so try to see that not everyone feels the same as you. You don't have to like his writing, but when you detract from it it makes it even more apparent that you are the lesser man. Your comments on Foster's writing ability led me to some of your other articles, and to be completely honest, it wasn't all bad. I genuinely enjoyed your "Fucking vs. Making Love" poetry bit, although it did seem like a cheap knockoff of Black Coffee Blues. Regardless, I can still acknowledge that the piece had its moments. However (and this is where I want you to pay attention you tub of lard), the piece can also be slammed in several areas. This is highly important, as we can see the parallels between this aspect of "Fucking vs. Making Love" and anything David Foster Wallace wrote. When it comes down to it, your writing can be criticized stylistically and formatically just like his can; the only difference is that there are few that actually give a shit about your writing, whereas Wallace's work is meaningful to the point where people have legitimate incentive to think critically about it. So defile it with your petty blog posts all you want, but at the end of the day you're the one who's only making yourself look bad, and as a heavily obese man based in Europe you are surely having few problems achieving this in the status quo, since Europeans are notably fatist.
ellauri082.html on line 127: JOI’s wraith is responsible for the strange disturbances around ETA — tripods in the forest, moving Ortho’s bed, ceiling tiles on the floor. He knocks the ceiling tiles down in an attempt to find the DMZ. Pemulis is too distracted with getting expelled to have Hal take it, so JOI needs to get it to Hal some other way.
ellauri088.html on line 591: We beat it out flat; we beat it back square; we battered it into every form known to geometry—but we could not make a hole in it. Then George went at it, and knocked it into a shape, so strange, so weird, so unearthly in its wild hideousness, that he got frightened and threw away the mast. Then we all three sat round it on the grass and looked at it.
ellauri100.html on line 1030: Seem’d knocking at Death’s door:
ellauri100.html on line 1141: Kick’d and knock’d her,
ellauri100.html on line 1225: Swift fire spread through her veins, knock’d at her heart,
ellauri111.html on line 385: Ah but you're supposed to feel GUILTY, because if you do you may not feel so cool to do the same thing again. That's the main point in corrective justice. Unlike retributive justice, which is really meant to knock you back. And another thing: if you feel bad about yourself, you will think of us all the better, which is nice.
ellauri117.html on line 255: He came to consciousness again, hearing an immense knocking outside. What could be happening, what was it, the great hammer-stroke resounding through the house? He did not know. And then it came to him that it was his own heart beating. But that seemed impossible, the noise was outside. No, it was inside himself, it was his own heart. And the beating was painful, so strained, surcharged. He wondered if Gerald heard it. He did not know whether he were standing or lying or falling.
ellauri133.html on line 376: King is notoriously prolific, with more than 50 novels to his name. In fact, when It first came out, it was part of a wave of four books King published in the span of just 14 months. Between 1986 and 1987, King published It, The Eyes of the Dragon, Misery, and The Tommyknockers. Given that kind of productivity, it would be easy to assume that King seamlessly produces doorstoppers in mere months. But appearances can be deceiving: It took four years to write.
ellauri133.html on line 390: King has been sober for over three decades now, but in his youth he suffered from addiction to drugs and alcohol. His prolific writing career did not halt during this time; he simply continued writing under the influence. “I was a heavy [cocaine] user from 1978 until 1986, something like that,” King told Rolling Stone. According to King, The Tommyknockers—which he published after It—was the last novel he wrote before becoming sober.
ellauri140.html on line 627: And often knockt his brest, as one that did repent. Mätki katuvasti rintalasta nyrkillä.
ellauri145.html on line 192: Upon this I made an effort to get up, in order to put my threat into execution; but the ruffian just reached across the table very deliberately, and hitting me a tap on the forehead with the neck of one of the long bottles, knocked me back into the arm-chair from which I had half arisen. I was utterly astounded; and, for a moment, was quite at a loss what to do. In the meantime, he continued his talk.
ellauri146.html on line 721: And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall Ja purjeveneiden kolkkaavan verkotettuun valliin
ellauri150.html on line 467: Sheik Ilderim bribes Pontius Pilate into allowing Ben-Hur to compete in a horse and carriage race (ravit) by proposing a high wager. Esther tries to convince Messiah not to race Ben-Hur, but he is adamant that he will win. On the day of the race, Ben-Hur follows Ilderim's instructions to hold back from the race until the final laps. Using dirty tactics, Messiah manages to knock out the other competing charioteers. Following a brutal and grueling race, Ben-Hur wins the race. Messiah survives but is badly wounded and loses a leg. Ben-Hur's victory emboldens the Jewish spectators and yields dividends for Ilderim.
ellauri150.html on line 616: There is a procession for the new Roman governor. Judah and his sister Tirzah watch. They see Messala, and Messala sees them. They see the Roman governor, but Tirzah puts too much of her weight on the roof, and a large section of it falls, knocking out the governor. In an act that is part chivalry and part Idiot Ball, Judah tells Tirzah not to say anything; he'll take responsibility. This gets all the house of Hur arrested. The servants are allowed to go free, though.
ellauri150.html on line 623: The Romans taking prisoners to the galleys are not overly concerned about anyone surviving, especially not people who knocked out their governor. At a well some distance north of Jerusalem, soldiers get watered first, then horses, and then slaves—and not Ben-Hur. He asks God for help... and in response, a young man, whose face is always turned from the camera, comes and gives him water. The audience understands that this is Jesus Himself, come to answer Ben-Hur's prayer. The Roman in charge starts to tell Him not to give Ben-Hur water, but on seeing His face, the Roman changes his mind. Ben-Hur drinks deep until it's time to move it.
ellauri150.html on line 629: Ben-Hur saves the consul and gets him on a raft of debris. Then he has to knock out the consul to prevent the fella from committing suicide, and chains the mercenary to him. After the consul wakes, still wanting to die, he reminds him that staying alive is the motivation he gives his slaves... Quintus wanted to commit suicide because he thought he'd lost overall. He hadn't, as it turns out he's hailed as a hero, and so there is a triumphant return to Rome. Ben-Hur gets to see the Emperor and then lives with Quintus learning to drive a chariot in races with Arrius' prized horses. Quintus actually tried to get him cleared of wanting to kill that Judean governor, but didn't pull it off...
ellauri156.html on line 522: However, according to Josephus, in Antiquities, Book 7, Chapter 1, Joab had forgiven Abner for the death of his brother, Asahel, the reason being that Abner had slain Asahel honorably in combat after he had first warned Asahel and tried to knock the wind out of him with the butt of his "spear". However, probably by intervention of God, his obtuse tool went through Asahel. The Bible says everyone stopped and gawked. That shows that something like this never happened before. This battle was part of a civil war between David and Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul. After this battle Abner switched to the side of David and granted him control over the tribe of Benjamin. This act put Abner in David's favor.
ellauri159.html on line 733: Overcoming failure means getting back up after getting knocked down. Aika lailla sama asia kuin perseverance, paizi tässä on saatu oikeasti köniin. True knights are familiar with both victory and defeat.
ellauri161.html on line 601: General Buck Turgidson knockoff (played by an unsmiling Ron Perlman) illustrates how far wide he misses the mark. By exaggerating certain aspects of human behavior, Don’t Look Up takes cynicism to a level that is not only excessive but doesn’t make for a story that’s either compelling or entertaining. During the course of watching Don’t Look Up, the only emotion I experienced was frustration – frustration that the movie could waste so much talent in the service of something so underwhelming. In other words, I could not laugh at all because the laugh was on me.
ellauri192.html on line 629: When Peter arrived and knocked on the door, the servant girl Rhoda came to answer. She heard Peter’s voice and knew it was he, but in her excitement and joy she forgot to actually open the door. Leaving Peter standing in the night, she rushed to tell everyone else about the miracle outside (Acts 12:14). They did not believe her, though, thinking she was out of her mind (Acts 12:15). When Rhoda was insistent, the believers decided it must be Peter’s “angel”—his guardian angel, perhaps, or his ghost—rather than the answer to their prayers!
ellauri192.html on line 631: All this time, Peter continued knocking on the door, until, finally, they answered it and were amazed to see Peter there. Rhoda had been telling the truth, never doubting that God had literally answered their prayers. Then Peter told them of his wondrous escape from jail (Acts 12:17). Little did he know that it was just a moratorium.
ellauri210.html on line 381: In the summer of 1914, Cravan began another phase of wandering. In 1916, he found himself in Barcelona where he somehow managed to book himself a high-profile fight against Jack Johnson. Johnson was in the midst of a celebrated stay in Spain, during which he was received by royalty and starred in movies. Photographs from the fight give some idea of the scale of the event, which was held at Barcelona’s huge bullfighting arena La Monumental. What the photos don’t convey is what a mismatch the fight was. Even a ring-rusty, thirty-eight-year-old Johnson was leagues ahead of Cravan. Johnson won with a sixth-round knockout, though it could’ve been over much sooner had he wished it. There are reports that Cravan shook with fear before the contest began, knowing how out of his depth he was. One writer has suggested that “Johnson and Cravan were more collaborators than competitors,” and that the event was a con, just a hype-fueled payday for an aging legend and a flamboyant interloper with no credible chance of a win—the Mayweather-McGregor of its day. Olikos tää se mazi josta toinen nyrkkipelle Heminwau kirjoitti siinä sonniromaanissa?
ellauri216.html on line 554: Once, while he was praying, St Macarius heard a voice: “Macarius, you have not yet attained such perfection in virtue as two women who live in the city.” The humble ascetic went to the city, found the house where the women lived, and knocked. The women received him with joy, and he said, “I have come from the desert seeking you in order to learn of your good deeds. Tell me about them, and conceal nothing.”
ellauri222.html on line 117: The first two hundred pages of “Augie March” are the best writing Bellow ever did. He created an idiolect that had no model. “I am an American, Chicago born . . . and go at things as I have taught myself, free-style, and will make the record in my own way: first to knock, first admitted; sometimes an innocent knock, sometimes a not so innocent.” Nobody speaks or writes that way—which is exactly what the sentence is telling us.
ellauri222.html on line 325: The foremost theme in The Adventures of Augie March is the search for identity. Unsure of what he wants from life, Augie is pulled along into the schemes of friends and strangers, trying on different identities and learning about the world through jobs ranging from union organizer to eagle trainer to book thief. His path seems random, but as Augie notes, quoting the Greek philosopher Heraclitus, “a man’s character is his fate.” As Augie goes through life, knocking on various doors, these doors of fate open up for him as if by random, but the knocks are unquestionably his own. In the end of the novel, Augie defines his identity as a “Columbus of those near-at-hand,” whose purpose in life is to knock some eggs. Augie notes that “various jobs” are the Rosetta stone, or key, to his entire life. Americans define themselves by their work (having no roots, family or land to stick to), and Augie is a sort of vagabond, trying on different identities as he goes along. Unwilling to limit himself by specializing in any one area, Augie drifts from job to job. He becomes a handbill-distributor, a paperboy, a Woolworth’s stocker, a newsstand clerk, a trinket-seller, a Christmas helper at a department store, a flower delivery boy, a butler, a clerk at fine department stores, a paint salesman, a dog groomer, a book thief, a coal yard worker, a housing inspector, a union organizer, an eagle-trainer, a gambler, a literary researcher, a business machine salesman, a merchant marine, and ultimately an importer-exporter working in wartime Europe. Augie’s job changing is emblematic of the social mobility that is so quintessentially American. Augie is the American Everyman, continually reinventing himself, like Donald Duck. Olemme kaikki oman onnemme Akuja, joopa joo. Yrmf, olet tainnut mainita. You are telling me!
ellauri236.html on line 499: “I’d love it! I’ll wear my new dress! Let’s go to the Champagne Room! I’ve never been there. I hear it’s a knockout.”
ellauri243.html on line 696: knock_and_announce.jpg/500px-U.S._Marshals_knock_and_announce.jpg" />
ellauri267.html on line 1399:
ellauri270.html on line 387: Nancy Hutchinson is called forward next, and her school friends watch anxiously. Bill Jr. is called, and he slips clumsily, nearly knocking over the box. Tessie gazes around angrily before snatching a slip of paper from the box. Bill selects the final slip. The crowd is silent, except for a girl who is overheard whispering that she hopes it’s not Nancy. Then Old Man Warner says that the lottery isn’t the way it used to be, and that people have changed.
xxx/ellauri123.html on line 1275: Christian teaching is that any sin can be forgiven. There is one exception, called the “unpardonable” sin, but that is a subject for another thread; it’s not about pedophilia for murder, but poking fun at the ghost who knocked up Virgin Mary without so much as by your leave.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 446: One of the Americans feinted and knocked his right side. He fell and looked up at Papa. They were in the shade of the building, but where he fell in the sun of the street, Papa's shadow covered him.
xxx/ellauri186.html on line 695: In the seventh century, a brand new monotheistic religion grew out of the flames of rampant, Arabian paganism. A man by the name of Mohammad is said to have begun receiving direct revelations via the angel Gabriel (the same guy who knocked up Anne and Mary!) about the timely reform of the true religion. The religion of Islam was born out of Mohammad’s revelations from Allah. The Quran, the record of those revelations and the holy book of Islam, contains various statements concerning Jesus Christ (known as Isa ibn Maryam or Jesus the son of Mary within the religion). Esa Saarisen äiti on (tai oli?) Iisa, eikä "Esa"-kaan ole siitä kaukana. Mitähän tämä mahtaa merkitä? Onko (tai oliko?) se enne? Eskiltäkin vuosi verta kylkihaavasta.
xxx/ellauri187.html on line 139: This is formidable revisionism. The cumulative effect of such a distortion of truth to an admirable, if sadly misplaced, idea of redemption and redress is to make Freedman's biography read like a forced confession. But the beating heart of Freedman's interminable deconstruction is Rilke the sexist. Rilke's extraordinary sensitivity to women, his admiration and need for strong and intelligent women, women's love for Rilke--these facts Freedman brusquely mentions only to knock down. What he wants is to prove that Rilke was a spirited accomplice in European society's subjugation of women. He writes,
xxx/ellauri187.html on line 197: But why did aging Rodin in his 60s capture Rilke’s imagination at the turn of the last century? It’s hard to see at first. What made Rodin radical then is no longer radical today. In his “Self-Portrait” (1890), Rodin grimaces amidst rough marks. The picture emblematizes how Rodin heralded raw and unpolished sculptures that were strikingly modern. It was a breath of fresh air since most of early-19th-century sculpture was smooth, neoclassical, and to be harshly honest, predictably dainty. Charles Baudelaire lamented this nadir in 1846 when he wrote his provocative essay “Why Sculpture is Boring.” Rodin went on to prove Baudelaire wrong. He showed how sculpture could be modern with distorted, coarse, rough textures. Rodin knocked the idealized body off its pedestal. And the modern sculptors that came after him saw no reason to put it back.
xxx/ellauri319.html on line 665: If you think you might have syphilis, it's best to avoid sex until you've talked with your doctor. If you do engage in sexual activity before seeing your doctor or during it, be sure to follow safe sex practices, such as using a condom. WHO estimates that 7.1 million adults between 15 and 49 years old acquire syphilis every year. About 210 million women get knocked up per year. Over 70 million of the wannabes get aborted, that is about a third. The figures had better go the other way.
xxx/ellauri329.html on line 147: knockout Cherry Poppens was born Heather
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