Nasikh Wa Quotes

#1. Face it, Tally-wa, you're special #Quote by Scott Westerfeld

#2. You're sunny. You keep showing up here." Diver
"I'm not sunny, I'm alcohol. No, no, I mean, I'm Summer," Summer says.
"Don't say that," the little boy said, suddenly frightened. "You're disturbing my wa. #Quote by Katherine Applegate

#3. Sex is the strongest force in the universe. Forget about the Grand Unifying Theory, Stephen Hawking, I'll tell you what it is: women. Aren't women the strongest sex? What force is more magnetic than that? It's not just pussy. We're attracted to women for their energy. We're attracted to their fluidness, their ability to nurture a baby without even knowing how, to be able to put up with screaming and crying and colic and shitty diapers where men would go, "I'm fucking outta here! I'm gonna go kill me a saber-toothed woolly mammoth an'bring it on home to eat tonight. Wa-haaaaaa!" We don't have tits; we couldn't nourish a gnat. #Quote by Steven Tyler

#4. Being older, I began to understand the lyrics. At the beginning, it sounds like a guy is trying to get his girlfriend to secretly meet up with him at midnight. But it's an odd place for a tryst, a hanging tree, where a man was hung for murder. The murderer's lover must have had something to do with the killing, or maybe they were just going to punish her anyway, because his corpse called out for her to flee. That's weird obviously, the talking-corpse bit, but it's not until the third verse that "The Hanging Tree" begins to get unnerving. You realize the singer of the song is the dead murderer. He's still in the hanging tree. And even though he told his lover to flee, he keeps asking if she's coming to meet him. The phrase Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free is the most troubling because at first you think he's talking about when he told her to flee, presumably to safety. But then you wonder if he meant for her to run to him. To death. In the final stanza, it's clear that that's what he was waiting for. His lover, with her rope necklace, hanging dead next to him in the tree.

I used to think the murderer was the creepiest guy imaginable. Now, with a couple of trips to the Hunger Games under my belt, I decide not to judge him without knowing more details. Maybe his lover was already sentenced to death and he was trying to make it easier. To let her know he'd be waiting. Or maybe he thought the place he was leaving her was really worse than death. Didn't I wa #Quote by Suzanne Collins

#5. Julia taught me what it takes to find your way in the world. It's not what I thought it was. I thought it wa all about-I don't know, confidence or will or luck. Those are all some good things to have, no question. But there's something else, somethng that these things grow out of. It's joy. #Quote by Julie Powell

#6. Luckily for me, I loved books. Books can enlighten but can also benight, but at least one can play one off against another. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#7. It was a universal welcome - Make yourself at home; Mi casa es su casa; Ahlan wa-sahlan; Baruch habah #Quote by Sandy Tolan

#8. All those who prefer peace to power, and happiness to glory should thank the colonized people for their civilizing mission. By liberating themselves, they made Europeans more modest, less racist, and more human. Let us hope that the process continues and that the Americans are obliged to follow the same course. When one's own cause is unjust, defeat can be liberating. #Quote by Jean Bricmont

#9. [The Quran is] a Revelation sent down by al-'Azeez, ar-Raheem. [Yaseen: 5]
The Quran is 'azeez (authoritative) and it's from al-'Azeez. And the Prophet is the most merciful human to ever live and was sent as a mercy to mankind from ar-Raheem. It's the perfect message delivered on the tongue of a perfect Messenger (salAllahu alayhi wa sallam). #Quote by Nouman Ali Khan

#10. The portraits, of more historical than artistic interest, had gone; and tapestry, full of the blue and bronze of peacocks, fell over the doors, and shut out all history and activity untouched with beauty and peace; and now when I looked at my Crevelli and pondered on the rose in the hand of the Virgin, wherein the form was so delicate and precise that it seemed more like a thought than a flower, or at the grey dawn and rapturous faces of my Francesca, I knew all a Christian's ecstasy without his slavery to rule and custom; when I pondered over the antique bronze gods and goddesses, which I had mortgaged my house to buy, I had all a pagan's delight in various beauty and without his terror at sleepless destiny and his labour with many sacrifices; and I had only to go to my bookshelf, where every book was bound in leather, stamped with intricate ornament, and of a carefully chosen colour: Shakespeare in the orange of the glory of the world, Dante in the dull red of his anger, Milton in the blue grey of his formal calm; and I could experience what I would of human passions without their bitterness and without satiety. I had gathered about me all gods because I believed in none, and experienced every pleasure because I gave myself to none, but held myself apart, individual, indissoluble, a mirror of polished steel: I looked in the triumph of this imagination at the birds of Hera, glowing in the firelight as though they were wrought of jewels; and to my mind, for which symbolism wa #Quote by W.B. Yeats

#11. But I thought she thought he was just a big pile of jobbies?" he said. "I seen her oout walkin', an' when he comes ridin' past, she sticks her nose in th' air and looks the other wa'. In fact, sometimes I seen her wait aroound a full five-and-twenty minutes for him tae come past, just so's she can do that. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#12. I've lived near here at several different stretches across time, but once, when I lived here a few hundred years ago, I had a camel I named Oded. He was just about the laziest creature ever to talk the Earth. He would pass out when I was in the middle of feeding him, and making it to the closest Bedouin camp for tea was a minor miracle. But when I first met you in that lifetime-"
"Oded broke into a run," Luce said without thinking. "I screamed because I thought he was going to trample me. You said you'd never seen him move like that."
"Yeah, well," Daniel said. "He liked you."
They paused and looked at each other, and Daniel started laughing when Luce's jaw dropped. "I did it!" she cried out. "It was just there, in my memory, a part of me. Like it happened yesterday. I came to me without thinking!"
It was miraculous. All those memories from all those lives that had been lost each time Lucinda died in Daniel's arms were somehow finding their way back to her, the way Luce always found her way back to Daniel.
No. She was finding her way to them.
It was like a gate had been left open after Luce's quest through the Announcers. Those memories stayed with her, from Moscow to Helston to Egypt. Now more were becoming available.
She had a sudden, keen sense of who she was-and she wasn't just Luce Price from Thunderbolt, Georgia. She was every girl she'd ever been, an amalgamation of experience, mistakes, achievements, and, above all, love.
She wa #Quote by Lauren Kate

#13. A Letter To Say, "I'll See You Later"

I remember just like it was yesterday the grapevine, clothesline, lilacs and peonies. I remember the secret hiding place for 50-cent pieces.
I remember just like it was yesterday the color wheel Christmas Tree, The Honeymooner's, The Dukes of Hazzard and Jeopardy!
I remember just like it was yesterday the house was full of children, but I was your only and your favorite. You always made time for me, even when I deserved the fly swatter.
I remember just like it was yesterday falling asleep to the scent of Dove soap on your pillow, you lying for me so I wouldn't be abused again.
I remember just like it was yesterday your big "Black Cat" and the late, dark nights driving to IFP and knowing there was "No Place Like Home."
I remember just like it was yesterday the "horns" in your 'do and the smell of Raffinee wafting through the house and Listerine in the bathroom. I remember your bows and polka dots and "just a few fries." I remember the green blanket.
I remember just like it was yesterday the way it felt to sit on your lap and have you sing "She's Grandma's Little Baby."
I remember just like it was yesterday the day you told me I could "Shit in the sugar bowl."
I remember just like it was yesterday telling you that you were going to be a great-grandma…for the first time.
I remember just like it was yesterday the 1st time you held him in your arms; you helped me raise him. Your house wa #Quote by Amanda Strong

#14. Why did Africa let Europe cart away millions of Africa's souls from the continent to the four corners of the wind? How could Europe lord it over a continent ten times its size? Why does needy Africa continue to let its wealth meet the needs of those outside its borders and then follow behind with hands outstretched for a loan of the very wealth it let go? How did we arrive at this, that the best leader is the one that knows how to beg for a share of what he has already given away at the price of a broken tool? Where is the future of Africa? #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#15. A man who seeks only the light, while shirking his responsibilities, will never find illumination. And one who keep his eyes fixed upon the sun ends up blind..."
"It doesn't matter what others think -because that's what they will think, in any case. So, relax. Let the universe move about. Discover the joy of surprising yourself."
"The master says: "Make use of every blessing that God gave you today. A blessing cannot be saved. There is no bank where we can deposit blessings received, to use them when we see fit. If you do not use them, they will be irretrievably lost. God knows that we are creative artists when it comes to our lives. On one day, he gives us clay for sculpting, on another, brushes and canvas, or a pen. But we can never use clay on our canvas, nor pens in sculpture. Each day has its own miracle. Accept the blessings, work, and create your minor works of art today. Tomorrow you will receive others."
"You are together because a forest is always stronger than a solitary tree," the master answered. "The forest conserves humidity, resists the hurricane and helps the soil to be fertile. But what makes a tree strong is its roots. And the roots of a plant cannot help another plant to grow. To be joined together in the same purpose is to allow each person to grow in his own fashion, and that is the path of those who wish to commune with God."
"If you must cry, cry like a child. You were once a child, and one of the first things you learned in life wa #Quote by Paulo Coelho

#16. There is a popular saying in Japan that goes "Tada yori takai mono wa nai," meaning: "Nothing is more costly than something given free of charge." THE UNSPOKEN WAY, MICHIHIRO MATSUMOTO, 1988 #Quote by Robert Greene

#17. Harriet turned round, and we both saw a girl walking towards us. She was dark-skinned and thin, not veiled but dressed in a sitara, a brightly coloured robe of greens and pinks, and she wore a headscarf of a deep rose colour. In that barren place the vividness of her dress was all the more striking. On her head she balanced a pitcher and in her hand she carried something. As we watched her approach, I saw that she had come from a small house, not much more than a cave, which had been built into the side of the mountain wall that formed the far boundary of the gravel plateau we were standing on. I now saw that the side of the mountain had been terraced in places and that there were a few rows of crops growing on the terraces. Small black and brown goats stepped up and down amongst the rocks with acrobatic grace, chewing the tops of the thorn bushes.
As the girl approached she gave a shy smile and said, 'Salaam alaikum, ' and we replied, 'Wa alaikum as salaam, ' as the sheikh had taught us. She took the pitcher from where it was balanced on her head, kneeled on the ground, and gestured to us to sit. She poured water from the pitcher into two small tin cups, and handed them to us. Then she reached into her robe and drew out a flat package of greaseproof paper from which she withdrew a thin, round piece of bread, almost like a large flat biscuit. She broke off two pieces, and handed one to each of us, and gestured to us to eat and drink. The water and the bread were both del #Quote by Paul Torday

#18. Why should we hate them? Because ours is the only true civilization! Even in science -- consider that we invented the sternpost rudder twelve hundred years before the Europeans did! Fore-and-aft sails in the third century! Treadmill paddle wheel for boats five hundred years later! Warships with rams and twenty paddle wheels by the twelfth century -- the British thought we had copied theirs, the fools! In the thirteenth century we had ships with fifty cabins for passengers, six-masts, double planking, water-tight compartments! Only in the last century did the barbarians even have transverse bulkheads! Five hundred years ago we already had ships four hundred and fifty feet long, and we grew fresh vegetables aboard in tubs! WE sailed the high seas to Sumatra and India, to Aden and Africa and even to Madagascar -- sixty years before the Portuguese bit a piece from the thigh of India! I curse Confucius and all those mad saints who persuaded us against war! Did you ever hear of Sun Wa, who lived three thousand years ago? No? Read the Art of War! 'If you are not in danger, do not fight,' he wrote. Now we are in danger! #Quote by Pearl S. Buck

#19. After All This"

After all this love, after the birds rip like scissors
through the morning sky, after we leave, when the empty
bed appears like a collapsed galaxy, or the wake of
disturbed air behind a plane, after that, as the wind turns
to stone, as the leaves shriek, you are still breathing
inside my own breath. The lighthouse on the far point
still sweeps away the darkness with the brush of an arm.
The tides inside your heart still pull me towards you.
After all this, what are these words but mollusk shells
a child plays with? What could say more than the eloquence
of last night's constellations? or the storm anchored by
its own flashes behind the far mountains? I remember
the way your body wavers under my touch like the northern
lights. After all this, I want the certainty of hidden roots
spreading in all directions from their tree. I want to hear
again the sky tangled in your voice. Some nights I can
hear the footsteps of the stars. How can these words
ever reveal the secret that waits in their sleeping light?
The words that walk through my mind say only what has
already passed. Beyond, the swallows are still knitting
the wind. After a while, the smokebush will turn to fire.
After a while, the thin moon will grow like a tear in a curtain.
Under it, a small boy kicks a ball against the wall of
a burned out house. He is too young to remember the wa #Quote by Richard Jackson

#20. Our people think: I , Wangari, a Kenyan by birth - how can I be a vagrant in my own country as if I were a foreigner. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#21. It want the sex that wa starting to feel toxic; it was the sexism. #Quote by Samhita Mukhopadhyay

#22. It is 1839. England is tumbling towards anarchy, with countrywide unrest and riots. The gutter presses are fizzing, fire-bombs flying. The shout on the streets is for revolution. Red evolutionists - visionaries who see life marching inexorably upward, powered from below - denounce the props of an old static society: priestly privilege, wage exploitation, and the workhouses. A million socialists are castigating marriage, capitalism, and the fat, corrupt Established Church. Radical Christians join them, hymn-singing Dissenters who condemn the 'fornicating' Church as a 'harlot,' in bed with the State.

Even science must be purged: for the gutter atheists, material atoms are all that exist, and like the 'social atoms' - people - they are self-organizing. Spirits and souls are a delusion, part of the gentry's cruel deceit to subjugate working people. The science of life - biology - lies ruined, prostituted, turned into a Creationist citadel by the clergy. Britain now stands teetering on the brink of collapse - or so it seems to the gentry, who close ranks to protect their privileges.

At this moment, how could an ambitious thirty-year-old gentleman open a secret notebook and, with a devil-may-care sweep, suggest that headless hermaphrodite molluscs were the ancestors of mankind? A squire's son, moreover, Cambridge-trained and once destined for the cloth. A man whose whole family hated the 'fierce & licentious' radical hooligans.

The gentleman wa #Quote by Adrian J. Desmond

#23. Tell me you didn't," she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. "Please tell me you didn't take advantage of these poor people."

"I didn't," he chirped.

"Liar."

With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. "Amora, you're not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…"

"Temple?" she cried, cutting him off. "You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you're God now?"

Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. "No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like."

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

"If you would let me finish," he went on, "these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well."

"You're despicable."

He frowned at the insult. "Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so."

"You were that impressive to them, huh?"

"Apparently." His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. "Come on, let's go have some fun."

"No way." She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.

"And why not?"

"Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you'll wa #Quote by Richelle E. Goodrich

#24. Stories, like food, lose their flavor if cooked in a hurry. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#25. Human nature inclines us to have recourse to petition for the purpose of obtaining from another, especially from a person of higher rank, what we hope to receive from him. So prayer is recommended to men, that by it they may obtain from God what they hope to secure from Him. But the reason why prayer is necessary for obtaining something from a man is not the same as the reason for its necessity when there is question of obtaining a favor from God. Prayer is addressed to man, first, to lay bare the desire and the need of the petitioner, and secondly, to incline the mind of him to whom the prayer is addressed to grant the petition. These purposes have no place in the prayer that is sent up to God. When we pray we do not intend to manifest our needs or desires to God, for He knows all things. The Psalmist says to God: "Lord, all my desire is before Thee" and in the Gospel we are told: "Your Father knoweth that you have need of all these things." Again, the will of God is not influenced by human words to will what He had previously not willed. For, as we read in Numbers 23:19, "God is not a man, that He should lie, nor as the son of man, that He should be changed"; nor is God moved to repentance, as we are assured in 1 Kings 15:29. Prayer, then, for obtaining something from God, is necessary for man on account of the very one who prays, that he may reflect on his shortcomings and may turn his mind to desiring fervently and piously what he hopes to gain by his petition. In this wa #Quote by Thomas Aquinas

#26. I'm just a stalker. #Quote by Usui Takumi

#27. When you see someone who is not as religious, remember that you were once on the edge of the fire, and it was Allah Subhaanahu wa Ta'ala's favor upon you to guide you. Arrogance will wipe away any goodness from the transformation. #Quote by Nouman Ali Khan

#28. It was a long head.

It was a wedge, a sliver, a grotesque slice in which it seemed the features had been forced to stake their claims, and it appeared that they had done so in a great hurry and with no attempt to form any kind of symmetrical pattern for their mutual advantage. The nose had evidently been first upon the scene and had spread itself down the entire length of the wedge, beginning among the grey stubble of the hair and ending among the grey stubble of the beard, and spreading on both sides with a ruthless disregard for the eyes and mouth which found precarious purchase. The mouth was forced by the lie of the terrain left to it, to slant at an angle which gave to its right-hand side an expression of grim amusement and to its left, which dipped downwards across the chin, a remorseless twist. It was forced by not only the unfriendly monopoly of the nose, but also by the tapering character of the head to be a short mouth; but it obvious by its very nature that, under normal conditions, it would have covered twice the area. The eyes in whose expression might be read the unending grudge they bore against the nose were as small as marbles and peered out between the grey grass of the hair.
This head, set at a long incline upon a neck as wry as a turtle's cut across the narrow vertical black strip of the window.
Steerpike watched it turn upon the neck slowly. It would not have surprised him if it had dropped off, so toylike was its angle.
As he wa #Quote by Mervyn Peake

#29. This land used to yield. Rains used not to fail. What happened?' inquired Ruoro. It was Muturi who answered. 'You forget that in those days the land was not for buying. It was for use. It was also plenty, you need not have beaten one yard over and over again. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#30. If we want to turn Africa into a new Europe ... then let us leave the destiny of our countries to Europeans. They will know how to do it better than the most gifted among us.'25 #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#31. And as I watched the dancers moving unheeded around him, an idea formed in my mind, a reckless, useless, stupid idea, but one that promised such fun I could almost hear Bran's laughter.
It's been too long since I heard him laugh, I realized grimly. I was gloriously angry at the whole world--at the commander sitting there at his ease, at his numerous soldiery all looking for my dockside-rat self, at the Marquis for scorning us and our ideals, at the ordinary people for not caring that Bran had worn himself tired and grim on their behalf when he should have been laughing and moving right along with all these dancers.
The dancers had been a brightly colored mass, but now I watched individuals. One in particular drew my eye: a big bull of a man, obviously half-drunk. His partner could hardly stop laughing when he lurched and staggered as the others twirled and stamped. I watched the figures of the dance, learning the pattern. The observers seemed to know it well, for when the stomping and clapping occurred, those who wished to cross the room threaded their way among the dancers; then when the couples did hands-high, the floor cleared for the resulting whirls and partner trades.
The drunk man was starting to look tired. He'd want to stop soon, I knew. I'd have to move now, or not at all.
My heart clumped in counterpoint to the music as I slipped through the crowd around the perimeter of the room and then, just as the clap-stamp-clap-stamp commenced, eased my wa #Quote by Sherwood Smith

#32. The Whiteman told of another country beyond the sea where a powerful woman sat on a throne while men and women danced under the shadow of her authority and benevolence. She was ready to spread the shadow to cover the Agikuyu. They laughed at this eccentric man whose skin had been so scalded that the black outside had peeled off. The hot water must have gone into his head.

Nevertheless, his words about a woman on the throne echoed something in the heart, deep down in their history. It was many, many years ago. Then women ruled the land of the Agikuyu. Men had no property, they were only there to serve the whims and needs of the women. Those were hard years. So they waited for women to go to war, they plotted a revolt, taking an oath of secrecy to keep them bound each to each in the common pursuit of freedom. They would sleep with all the women at once, for didn't they know the heroines would return hungry for love and relaxation? Fate did the rest; women were pregnant; the takeover met with little resistance. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#33. This country, our country, is pregnant. What it will give birth to, only God knows... Imagine! the children of us workers are fated to stay out in the sun, thirsty, hungry, naked, gazing at fruit ripening on trees which they can' t pick even to quieten a demanding belly! Fated to see food steaming in the pantry, but unable to dip a calabash into the pot to scoop out even a tiny portion Fated to lie awake all night telling each another stories about tears and sorrow, asking one and other to guess the same riddle day after day: "oh, for a piece of one of those"
'Ripe bananas!' Wangari replied, as if Muturi had asked her a real riddle.
'Oh for some of that ' Muturi said.
'Fresh, cool water in a cave that belongs to another,' Wangari replied again. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#34. Walking along the path that she chose, without being affected by others ... in this sense, white is her color ... in another sense, it also makes me want to put more colors on her #Quote by Usui Takumi

#35. It's WA today, Minna," called Orson from across the room, Orson's name for Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Orson played second violin with a sloppy serenity, rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue, his bowing long and sweeping and beautiful even when out of tune. "If you must make a mistake," he had quoted, "make it a big one." Was it Heifetz who had said it? Perlman? Zukerman maybe? #Quote by Patricia MacLachlan

#36. That was one of the most rewarding things about spending nights in the open. Birds were bound to wake you up, and whether they carried good or bad luck, at least they woke you up with music. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#37. But most people will draw their own conclusions on learning that the dictator's official name, Mobutu Sese Seko Kuku Ngbendu Wa Za Banga, translates as 'the cock who goes from hen to hen knowing no fatigue'. #Quote by Jonathan Margolis

#38. You okay?" Marlboro Man called out. I didn't answer. I just kept on walking, determined to get the hell out of Dodge.
It took him about five seconds to catch up with me; I wasn't a very fast walker. "Hey," he said, grabbing me around the waist and whipping me around so I was facing him. "Aww, it's okay. It happens."
I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to hear it. I wanted him to let go of me and I wanted to keep on walking. I wanted to walk back down the hillside, start my car, and get out of there. I didn't know where I'd go, I just knew I wanted to go. I wanted away from all of it--riding horses, saddles, reins, bridles--I didn't want it anymore. I hated everything on that ranch. It was all stupid, dumb…and stupid.
Wriggling loose of his consoling embrace, I squealed, "I seriously can't do this!" My hands trembled wildly and my voice quivered. The tip of my nose began to sting, and tears welled up in my eyes. It wasn't like me to display such hysteria in the presence of a man. But being driven to the brink of death had brought me to this place. I felt like a wild animal. I was powerless to restrain myself. "I don't want to do this for the rest of my life!" I cried.
I turned to leave again but decided instead to give up, choosing to sit down on the ground and slump over in defeat. It was all so humiliating--not just my rigid, freakish riding style or my near collision with the ground, but also my crazy, emotional reaction after the fact. This wa #Quote by Ree Drummond

#39. In the whole psychology of the "Gospels" the concepts of guilt and punishment are lacking, and so is that of reward. "Sin," which means anything that puts a distance between God and man, is abolished - this is precisely the " glad tidings." Eternal bliss is not merely promised, nor is it bound up with conditions: it is conceived as the only reality - what remains consists merely of signs useful in speaking of it.
The results of such a point of view project themselves into a new way of life, the special evangelical way of life. It is not a "belief" that marks off the Christian; he is distinguished by a different mode of action; he acts differently. He offers no resistance, either by word or in his heart, to those who stand against him. He draws no distinction between strangers and countrymen, Jews and Gentiles ("neighbour," of course, means fellow-believer, Jew). He is angry with no one, and he despises no one. He neither appeals to the courts of justice nor heeds their mandates ("Swear not at all"). He never under any
circumstances divorces his wife, even when he has proofs of her infidelity. - And under all of this is one principle; all of it arises from one instinct. -
The life of the Saviour was simply a carrying out of this way of life - and so was his death.... He no longer needed any formula or ritual in his relations with God - not even prayer. He had rejected the whole of the Jewish doctrine of repentance and atonement; he knew that it was only by a wa #Quote by Nietszche

#40. Islamic scholars developed a doctrine known as "abrogation" (an-Nasikh wa'l Mansukh), whereby Allah issues new revelations that supersede old ones. #Quote by Ayaan Hirsi Ali

#41. I believe that black has been oppressed by white; female by male; peasant by landlord; and worker by lord of capital. It follows from this that the black female worker and peasant is the most oppressed. She is oppressed on account of her color like all black people in the world; she is oppressed on account of her gender like all women in the world; and she is exploited and oppressed on account of her class like all workers and peasants in the world. Three burdens she has to carry. #Quote by Ngugi Wa Thiongo

#42. Speaking of the happy new year, I wonder if any year ever had less chance of being happy. It's as though the whole race were indulging in a kind of species introversion - as though we looked inward on our neuroses. And the thing we see isn't very pretty.
Before the year is over, I think I will be looking back longingly on the Gulf of Lower California - that sea of mirages and timelessness. It is a very magical place.

It is cold and clear here now - the leaves all fallen from the trees and only the frogs are very happy. Great cheering sections of frogs singing all the time. The earth is moist and water is seeping out of the ground everywhere. So we go into this happy new year, knowing that our species has learned nothing, can, as a race, learn nothing - that the experience of ten thousand years has made no impression on the instincts of the million years that preceded.
Maybe you can find some vague theology that will give you hope. Not that I have lost any hope. All the goodness and the heroisms will rise up again, then be cut down again and rise up. It isn't that the evil thing wins - it never will - but that it doesn't die. I don't know why we should expect it to. It seems fairly obvious that two sides of a mirror are required before one has a mirror, that two forces are necessary in man before he is man. I asked Paul de Kruif once if he would like to cure all disease and he said yes. Then I suggested that the man he loved and wanted to cure wa #Quote by John Steinbeck