ellauri032.html on line 230: Oh – Vivienne! Was there ever such a torture since life began! – to bear her on one´s shoulders, biting, wriggling, raving, scratching, unwholesome, powdered, insane, yet sane to the point of insanity, reading his letters, thrusting herself on us, coming in wavering trembling ... This bag of ferrets is what Tom wears round his neck.
ellauri067.html on line 581: From early on, Prokosch sought to surround himself with a veil of mystification and cast his life into a hopeless riddle. Approaching his sixtieth year, he boasted that no person had succeeded in knowing him as an integral personality: "I have spent my life alone, utterly alone, and no biography of me could ever more than scratch the surface. All the facts in Who’s Who, or whatever, are so utterly meaningless. My real life (if I ever dared to write it!) has transpired in darkness, secrecy, fleeting contacts and incommunicable delights, any number of strange picaresque escapades and even crimes, and I don't think that any of my 'friends' have even the faintest notion of what I'm really like or have any idea of what my life has really consisted of. . . .With all the surface 'respectability,' diplomatic and scholarly and illustrious social contacts, my real life has been subversive, anarchic, vicious, lonely, and capricious."
ellauri097.html on line 464: I’m not actually using a moral ‘wrong’ in this particular illustration, but notice how you can understand right or wrong in terms of teleology, depending on what the goal is. If I have a loose screw on the refrigerator and I choose a butter knife to tighten the screw, I’m going to ruin the butter knife because I’m not using it for its intended purpose. It’s not made to function as a screwdriver, even if it can be used that way in a pinch. It will get bent or can slip out and scratch the refrigerator. It wasn’t fulfilling its telos, its purpose, or its function, and therefore it was being used wrongly.
ellauri100.html on line 1101: They began to scratch their pates,
ellauri150.html on line 705: And now comes a bit of papal humor, "Were this the case, it would follow that to become free we must be deprived of reason." Pretty funny, huh? Ok, I see you're not laughing, but instead are scratching your head. Alright, let me paint a picture for you. Imagine a 60s hippy high on LSD, dancing wildly, and shouting out, "I'm free! I'm free!" Yes, this is one of the messages that is often repeated like a mantra in today's society, "If you want to free yourself, you have to stop thinking and just let yourself go." In 1888, Pope Leo XIII rejected this notion and even ridiculed it.
ellauri156.html on line 188: And Rocky said, "Doc, it's only a scratch
ellauri182.html on line 445: Finally take the time to meditate on the meaning of the Zen circle in a fuller sense and how its secret applies to your life. I have only scratched the surface here; there is so much more to discover and share.
ellauri223.html on line 72: But in the City of the Sun, while duty and work are distributed among all, it only falls to each one to work for about four hours every day. The remaining hours are spent in learning joyously, in debating, in reading, in reciting, in writing, in walking, in exercising the mind and body, and with play. They allow no game which is played while sitting or lying on top of one another, neither the single die nor dice, nor chess, nor others like these. But they play with the ball, with the sack, with the rod, with the hoop, with wrestling, with scratching matches at the stake. They say, moreover, that grinding poverty renders men worthless, cunning, sulky, thievish, insidious, vagabonds, liars, false witnesses, etc.; and that wealth makes them insolent, proud, ignorant, traitors, assumers of what they know not, deceivers, boasters, wanting in affection, slanderers, etc. But with them all the rich and poor together make up the community. They are rich because they want nothing, poor because they possess nothing. Hey is this communism or what?
ellauri236.html on line 204: In borrowing from William Faulkner's Sanctuary, Chase only took the plot; the mental atmosphere of the two books is not similar. Chase really derives from other sources, and this particular bit of borrowing is only symbolic. What it symbolizes is the vulgarization of ideas which is constantly happening, and which probably happens faster in an age of print. Chase has been described as ‘Faulkner for the masses’, but it would be more accurate to describe him as Carlyle for the masses. He is a popular writer — there are many such in America, but they are still rarities in England — who has caught up with what is now fashionable to call ‘realism’, meaning the doctrine that might is right. The growth of ‘realism’ has been the great feature of the intellectual history of our own age. Why this should be so is a complicated question. The interconnexion between sadism, masochism, success-worship, power-worship, nationalism, and totalitarianism is a huge subject whose edges have barely been scratched, and even to mention it is considered somewhat indelicate. To take merely the first example that comes to mind, I believe no one has ever pointed out the sadistic and masochistic element in Bernard Shaw's work, still less suggested that this probably has some connexion with Shaw's admiration for dictators. Fascism is often loosely equated with sadism, but nearly always by people who see nothing wrong in the most slavish worship of Stalin. The truth is, of course, that the countless English intellectuals who kiss the arse of Stalin are not different from the minority who give their allegiance to Hitler or Mussolini, nor from the efficiency experts who preached ‘punch’, ‘drive’, ‘personality’ and ‘learn to be a Tiger man’ in the nineteen-twenties, nor from that older generation of intellectuals, Carlyle, Creasey and the rest of them, who bowed down before German militarism. All of them are worshipping power and successful cruelty. It is important to notice that the cult of power tends to be mixed up with a love of cruelty and wickedness for their own sakes. A tyrant is all the more admired if he happens to be a bloodstained crook as well, and ‘the end justifies the means’ often becomes, in effect, ‘the means justify themselves provided they are dirty enough’. This idea colours the outlook of all sympathizers with totalitarianism, and accounts, for instance, for the positive delight with which many English intellectuals greeted the Nazi-Soviet pact. It was a step only doubtfully useful to the U.S.S.R., but it was entirely unmoral, and for that reason to be admired; the explanations of it, which were numerous and self-contradictory, could come afterwards.
ellauri256.html on line 373: Osip was not troubled by his wife's affair. All the more so, since the country was living through a sexual revolution - free love became a symbol of the time. “I loved making love to Osya. On those occasions, we locked Volodya in the kitchen. Then he would rage, trying to join us, scratching at the door and crying,” Lilya once told a friend.
ellauri283.html on line 122: Video stalled a couple times the first time we watched it. Maybe scratched?? Or a sign from beyond? We found the movie to be a little odd.
xxx/ellauri176.html on line 99: As with any industry, porn has its own specific lingo. But instead of sales stats, porn abbreviations describe males and twats. With the Adult Entertainment Expo in Vegas this week, our office has been buzzing with words that would normally taboo in the workplace. Some elicit giggles, others blank stares and still others furrowed eyebrows, flushed cheeks and the occasional fainting. Rather than calling The evil HR director to deal with the questionable vocab, which would probably just get us all scratched, we dove head first into oral, vaginal and anal research like Freud, Marx and Jung.
xxx/ellauri304.html on line 617: A guy named Leonard Bishop has a rule: keep the dialogue short. Four sentences is a speech. More than that, break it up. Let something happen. Let the person sip a drink or light a cigarette, scratch his butt or sneeze, anything. Let the speaker be responded to or questioned by another character. Let’s face it; nobody gets a a chance to speak for five sentences in a row without being interrupted, unless he or she is one of our neighbors in the East. Personally I find even Quentin Tarantino tedious.
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