ellauri009.html on line 692: You walked into the party

ellauri052.html on line 236: And walked to the window. The stony street
ellauri072.html on line 168: Frost boarded a steamship from New York to Norfolk, and walked into the Great Dismal Swamp where, Hart maintained, he planned to commit suicide in the woods by a canal. Some biographers have scoffed at the idea that Frost wanted to “throw… [his] life away” in the swamp.
ellauri080.html on line 754: Gandhi’s most famous campaign was the Salt march of 1930. Gandhi walked to the ocean to make his own salt – thereby non-violently oppose the British law which forbade the Indians from making their own salt. Gandhi used to drink his own pee in the mornings to retain the salt.
ellauri092.html on line 90: At first Moody could satisfy himself so that was ok. But the persistence of these ladies led him to meet and pray with them. They poured out their hearts asking Cod to fill them with His servant's Spirits. From that day a deep hunger and thirst gripped Moody. By October he was in agony for sole as he prayed and munched Cod for the promised gift. At times he would roll on the floor in agony with the ladies and in tears with this singular prayer to be baptised in the Holy Mackerel grilled with fire. This was a wrestle between his willy and Cod’s willy. It was that very month that Chicago burnt to the ground by ghost fire. All his works, efforts and organizational committees literally went up in a blaze. Shortly after this while passing through New York on his way to Britain the second time Cod heard his prayer. As he walked the streets his willy bent before Cod's, the power of the Golden Horde fell upon him, the Ford drew near and revealed Himself to be His servant. Moody rushed to a friend’s house and asked for rum and to be left alone. Hour after hour he bathed in the presence of Cod as the Holy Mackerels filled him. So strong was this that he cried out to Cod to stay in His hand lest He die. He was filled with the joy of the Gourd. When he left that house it was in the power of the fire, just like Chicago the other day.
ellauri092.html on line 92: He fleed to England for a few months of rest and with a desire to draw ale with Christian leaders there. He had no intention of zonking although he did a few times but he attended conventions and conferences and wrote numbers of notes and thoughts. He met with the Plymouth Brethren near Dublin and he spent a whole night kneeling in fervent prayer with about 20 of these jealous men. That next morning he walked with Henry “Butcher” Varley through the streets. This Br'er Rabbit said something to him which made a deep impact on the weasel Cod was forming. He said “Moody, the world has yet to see what Cod will do to a man full of It.” That night as these words still reverberated in his mind and heart he vowed that by the grace of Cod and the power of the Holy Mackerels he would be that man. All who met with him during this journey in Britain and Ireland were strangely aware that Cod was preparing a great work in this man. You could smell it a mile away. Mackerels!
ellauri100.html on line 285: In short, I have walked many streets of life and seen many facets of the human condition. I have been spared much; my personal history excludes the direct effects of war, disaster, and privation. And I have been content to settle for relative obscurity and comfort rather than fame and fortune, even though I might have attained them had I chosen to strive for them. (What a laugh!)
ellauri106.html on line 156: Eli Rosenthal, his former roommate at the time, said the two met in a fashion illustrating class. "I looked over at him and I said, 'Wow, this guy can really draw and I want to be like him,'" he said. "He always walked around with a sketch pad. He said it was great for picking up girls."
ellauri106.html on line 367: Documents from the Kerner Commission investigation show that he completed his speech at 10 pm July 24, then walked a woman home and was allegedly shot by a deputy sheriff without provocation.
ellauri107.html on line 106: In 1963, Mailer wrote two regular columns: one on religion called "Responses and Reactions" for Commentary and one called "Big Bite" for Esquire. Mailer also divorced from his third wife Jeanne Campbell and met Beverly Bentley who would become his fourth wife. Bentley had known Hemingway in Spain and briefly dated Miles Davis in New York before she met Mailer. Bentley and Mailer took a long car trip, notably visited an army buddy "Fig" Gwaltney in Arkansas, viewed an autopsy of a cancer victim, watched the Sonny Liston and Floyd Patterson fight in Las Vegas, and spent time with the Beats in San Francisco. While in San Francisco, Mailer "walked narrow ledges, testing his nerve and balance".
ellauri107.html on line 108: Mailer's has similarities with Rojack: They both attended Harvard, served in World War II, had an interest in political office, did violence to wife, walked narrow ledges, and appeared on talk shows. Mailer seems to have drawn on his stabbing his second wife Adele Morales in Rojack's murdering of his wife Deborah. Mailer did not deny these similarities, but stated:
ellauri111.html on line 499: 1 John 2:6 He that saith he abideth in him ought himself also so to walk, even as he walked.

ellauri111.html on line 525: 2:2 Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience:

ellauri146.html on line 731: And walked abroad in a shower of all my days. Ja talsin laajalle päivieni vihmassa.
ellauri146.html on line 765: Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother Unohdetut aamut kun se kulki äidin kaa
ellauri150.html on line 580: Iras went to them, took them under her arms, and passed to the door and out of it without a parting word. She walked rapidly, and was gone before Esther could decide what to do.
ellauri152.html on line 668: These rare individuals are capable of adhering to the dog's willy despite the unrelenting trials, afflictions, and massive assaults hurled at them from the forces of evil. The patriarchs were such exceptional individuals, they followed this path, unassisted by the dog, as the verse says, "He Yaakov said, 'O dog the name of Hashem containing the spiritual energies of harshness before Whom my forefathers Avraham and Yitzchak walked ...
ellauri156.html on line 154: So one day he walked into town
ellauri160.html on line 48: Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums. You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
ellauri184.html on line 696: Three women always walked with the master: Mary his mother, sister, and Mary of Magdala, who is called his "companion". For “Mary” is the name of his sister, his mother, and his companion.
ellauri189.html on line 196: (The sun had already walked along his wide curve and tinged the grey clouds with a crimson glow; with a yellow light quivering over earth and water, he burnt, setting, on his rich throne. Already his look, full of wonder, does not blind, but spreads mild, visible rays and, taking a short farewell, before burying himself in the deep, he allows mortal eyes to look at him; still – during this last moment he does not hastily disappear, [for he wants] to nourish all creatures with a smile of life; still he glances through the windows in
ellauri192.html on line 77: Jakobson escaped from Prague in early March 1939 via Berlin for Denmark, where he was associated with Louis Hjelmslev's Copenhagen linguistic circle. He fled to Norway on 1 September 1939, and in 1940 walked across the border to Sweden, where he continued his work at the Karolinska Hospital (with works on footsores, aphasia and language competence). When Swedish colleagues feared a possible German occupation, he managed to leave on a cargo ship, together with Ernst Cassirer (the former rector of Hamburg University) to New York City in 1941 to become part of the wider community of intellectual émigrés who fled there.
ellauri198.html on line 235: It all started as steelworkers for five steel companies – Bethlehem Steel, Republic Steel, Youngstown Sheet and Tube, Inland Steel and Weirton Steel, collectively known as “Little Steel” in comparison to the giant U.S. Steel Company – went on strike to force the companies to recognize and bargain with their union, the Steelworkers Organizing Committee (SWOC). The strike, which began on May 26th, was almost completely effective in the first days, as 67,000 workers walked the picket lines, kept replacement workers (scabs) out, and brought steel production in their mills to a standstill. One striker later said that in the first days of the strike “the mills were as empty as Monday morning church” and that “the steel towns breathed clean air for the first time in years.”
ellauri213.html on line 413: The founder of one of the most feared terrorist organisations of the 1970s has walked free from a Japanese prison after completing a 20-year sentence for the siege of the French embassy in the Netherlands.
ellauri222.html on line 101: Still, in New York and at Princeton, where he spent a year teaching creative writing, Bellow made friends with many of the critics who dominated literary life in the nineteen-fifties. They found him bright, congenial, and sufficiently bookish, and especially admired what they took to be his poise and real-world savvy. Irving Howe thought Bellow “very strong-willed and shrewd in the arts of self-conservation.” “Even his egocentricity added to his charms,” said William Phillips, the co-editor, with Philip Rahv, of Partisan Review. “Stunning—the ultimate beautiful young Jewish intellectual incarnate,” Alfred Kazin’s wife, Ann Birstein, remembered. Bellow maintained the allure by cultivating just the right amount of aloofness. “I was the cat who walked by himself,” as he put it.
ellauri226.html on line 140: Nuovo, however, looked placid and tame. Nuovo was home to the Nobel laureate Grazia Deledda, whose novels Lawrence so admired, but her modest birthplace was closed. We walked around aimlessly, seeing the place through his eyes, but, of course, through Lawrence’s eyes “there’s nothing to see.” This is no longer quite true; there are two good museums in town. But, by now, it had taken on the sound of a mantra. “Sights are an irritating bore,” he wrote. “Happy is the town that has nothing to show.”
ellauri236.html on line 433: The door swung open and Anna walked in. She was wearing a pale green summer dress and a big straw hat. Eddie thought she looked terrific.
ellauri241.html on line 53: In the last moments of the film, Fanny cuts her hair in an act of mourning, dons black attire, and walks the snowy paths that Keats had walked many times. It is there that she recites the love sonnet that he had written for her, called "Bright Star", as she grieves the death of her consumptive unconsummated lover.
ellauri264.html on line 687: They are dicks, so they are the people who will end up in history books. They have all made technology so that they own it today. The world is a much worse place because they are/were here. You could even argue that because they were dicks, did not care if they walked over other people, that’s why they have all the nice things they have now.
ellauri276.html on line 451: I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
ellauri383.html on line 55: This 98-year-old woman walked 10 km with a cane to bring this splinter of wood to the Ukrainian-controlled territory from the settlement of Ocheretyne in Donetsk region, captured by Russia last week. Because she didn’t want to leave a perfectly good splinter to the Russian occupiers.
xxx/ellauri013.html on line 1067: It appears that a sort of loafing, fuddled vagabond - a white man living among the natives with a siamese woman - had consireded it a great privilege to give a shelter to the last days of the famous Gentleman Brown. While he was talking to me in the wretched hovel, and, as it were, fighting for every minute of his life, the siamese woman, with big bare legs nd a stupid coarse face, sat in dark orner chewing betel stolidly. Now and then she would get up for the purpose of shooing a chicken away from the door. The whole hut shook when she walked. An ugly yellow child, naked and pot-bellied, like a little heathen god, stood at the foot of the couch, finger in mouth, lost in a profound and calm contemplation of the dying man.
xxx/ellauri103.html on line 307: I have never walked out of a speech. Or I hadn’t, until last night’s opening keynote for the Brisbane writers festival, delivered by the American author Lionel Shriver, best known for her novel, We need to talk about Kevin.
xxx/ellauri103.html on line 314: I turned to face the crowd, lifted up my chin and walked down the main aisle, my pace deliberate. “Look back into the audience,” a friend had texted me moments earlier, “and let them see your face.”
xxx/ellauri103.html on line 346: My own mother, as we walked away from the tent, suggested that perhaps I was being too sensitive. Perhaps … or perhaps that is the result of decades of being told to be quiet, and accept our place. So our conversation then turned to intent. What was Shriver’s intent when she chose to discuss her distaste for the concept of cultural appropriation? Was it to build bridges, to further our intellect, to broaden horizons of what is possible?
xxx/ellauri178.html on line 315: Acts 14:8 And there sat a certain man at Lystra, impotent in his feet, being a cripple from his mother's womb, who never had walked.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 352: The mahogany bar spread eight feet with dark boards underneath that swirled up to a marble top. A famous writer with taped up glasses and grey-flaked hair sat at a table in the back corner. Two Americans walked in and sat on the barstools. They acknowledged the writer and ordered drinks. They were big men, just like him, and he had seen them in here many times. It was a small room. Fifteen by thirty feet at most with windows only in the door. The writer drank his Asti Spumante. The owner of the bar, Giuseppe Cipriani, walked towards his table and crouched down.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 356: A short man half the size of Papa in blue seersuckers stepped towards him. As he walked, his left hand swung wide. The other grasped a blackthorn walking stick. “Christ you're big,” he said and his hand stuck out. He leaned his stick on the table and took off his porkpie hat. “Nick Adams,” he said and it sounded familiar. The light above the table flickered.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 380: “Very well, yes, Papa,” Juice said and walked to the bar. He poured the drinks and left grappas for the two Americans.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 450: “Goddamned wops,” he said and walked away.
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 518: The Americans paid their tab and stepped outside. Cobblestones ran through narrow alleys and slightly less narrow streets that led to the sea with buildings all along. Across from Harry's, a white building stood next to a red one. The Americans glanced at the spot the people had been killed. It was a few feet into the street and in line with the stark change in color between the buildings. Four children walked over the spot carelessly. They jumped and skipped happily to where the men couldn't see them.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 520: While they walked along a narrow street through tall, colored buildings, it started to rain.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 528: They stepped past a small cafe. People sat outside on tables under umbrellas. “Let's save ourselves here.” They walked past the cafe. Balconies hung over the narrow street with plants hanging down, breathing in the rain.
xxx/ellauri179.html on line 767: Hi… could you advise me whenever I feed my rooster finished and walked away he will make a cuckle sound at me.
xxx/ellauri186.html on line 266: Lowell married the novelist and short-story writer Jean Stafford in 1940. Before their marriage, in 1938, Lowell and Stafford were in a serious car crash, in which Lowell was at the wheel, that left Stafford permanently scarred, while Lowell walked away unscathed. The impact crushed Stafford's nose and cheekbone and required her to undergo multiple reconstructive surgeries. No wonder they had a tormented marriage.
xxx/ellauri193.html on line 176: He walked home, fetched his firearm and fired three shots at his sleeping girlfriend. He then tried to commit suicide and demonstrated to the court how he held a gun against his right temple before pulling the trigger.
xxx/ellauri224.html on line 506: Murphy said the video and pictures he and his sister got indicated that the man drove to the cemetery almost every morning between 6:14 a.m. and 6:18 a.m. with his current wife, got out of the car, walked to Torello’s grave and peed on it. (How could one video possibly indicate as much as that?) “I can’t get my wife to go out to dinner but this guy gets his wife to go along with him to desecrate my mom’s remains every morning!” Murphy fumed.
xxx/ellauri228.html on line 421: We walked to the south, raising dust above the steppe; Kuljimme etelään, nostattaen aron tomua;
xxx/ellauri229.html on line 539: The period of private initiative in body building lasted three quarters of a century. At first there was much enjoyment taken in the newly won freedom of automorphosis, once again the young people led the way, the men with their gambrel thills and timbrels, the women with their pettifores, but before long a generation gap developed, and demonstrations-under the banner of asceticism-followed. The sons condemned their fathers for being interested only in making a living, for having a passive, often consumerist attitude towards the body, for their shallow hedonism, their vulgar pursuit of pleasure, and in order to disassociate themselves they assumed shapes deliberately hideous, uncomfortable beyond belief, downright nightmarish (the antleroons, wampdoodles). Showing their contempt for all things utilitarian, they set eyes in their armpits, and one group of young biotic activists made use of innumerable sound organs, specially grown (electric guitars, glottiphones, hawk pipes, knuckelodeons, thumbolas). They arranged mass concerts, in which the soloists-called hoot-howls-would whip up the crowd into a frenzy of convulsive percussion. Then came the fashion - the mania, rather - for long penises, which in caliber and strength of grip underwent escalation according to the typically adolescent, swaggering principle of "You haven´t seen anything yet!" And, since no one could lift those piles of coils by himself, so called processionals were attached, caudalettes, a self-perambulating receptacle that grew out of the small of the back and carried, on two strong shanks, the weight of the testicles after their owner. In the textbook I found illustrations depicting men of fashion, behind whom walked testicle-bearing processionals on parade; but this was already the decline of the protest movement, or more precisely its complete bankruptcy, because it had failed to pursue any goals of its own, being solely a rebellious reaction against the orgiastic baroque of the age. LEM ei paljon perustanut sodanjälkeisestä 60-luvun sukupolvesta, eikä hipeistä. No en minäkään.
xxx/ellauri230.html on line 558: Romanian prinssi Carol lähetettiin Tokioon unohtamaan juutalaistaustainen haahkansa Magda Lupescu. Ei unohtanut, kuten Kustu kuivasti totesi. Lupescu was described as a witty and outspoken woman, a tall redhead with milky-white skin and green eyes. Other sources are less flattering, describing her features as coarse and her conversation as vulgar. Voihan ne olla totta kumpikin. All sources agree that she walked with a peculiar swing of the hips, which, depending on one's point of view, was either sexy or crude, and that she was, in almost every respect, the opposite of Crown Princess Helen, Carol's spouse at the time.
xxx/ellauri251.html on line 2146: For this man dead walked with me, child by child,
xxx/ellauri387.html on line 201: Immediately following the September 11 attacks, Guillou caused controversy when he walked out of the Göteborg Book Fair in the midst of the three minutes of silence observed throughout Europe to honour the victims of the attacks. In an article in Aftonbladet, Guillou argued that the event was an act of hypocrisy, stating that "the U.S. is the great mass murderer of our time. The wars against Vietnam and its nearby countries alone claimed four million lives. Without a minute of silence in Sweden". He also criticised those who said that the attacks were "an attack on us all" by stating that the attacks were only "an attack on U.S. imperialism".
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