Cherryl Alwan > Cherryl's Quotes

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  • #1
    “Here we have a stopwatch turned on for life, which is why the most valuable thing we have is the time allotted to us by life, which is something that should not be burned in vain.”
    Alexander Morpheigh, The Pythagorean

  • #2
    Todor Bombov
    “This acute, “a selfdissolving contradiction,” Marx had very precisely seen and foreseen that “it establishes a monopoly in certain spheres and thereby requires state interference.” This contradiction “reproduces a new financial aristocracy” (how much Marx was right!), no matter it will call itself Communist Party of Soviet Union or DuPont Financial Circle. It reproduces “a new variety of parasites . . . , a whole system of swindling and cheating by means of corporation promotion, stock issuance, and stock speculation.”
    Todor Bombov, Socialism Is Dead! Long Live Socialism!: The Marx Code-Socialism with a Human Face

  • #3
    “The guard looked down at the scarlet bloodstains blooming on his chest. He appeared to think of something that he needed to say, but as his lips began to form the words, his knees gave up the strain of supporting his ruined bulk. He collapsed to the floor, his throat issuing a final sound like a bubbling casserole.”
    R.D. Ronald, The Zombie Room

  • #4
    Theasa Tuohy
    “Mary moved down to join the gathered actors, but little was said beyond questioning whispers. This was, after all, a morgue.”
    Theasa Tuohy, Mademoiselle le Sleuth

  • #5
    “I implore you. Take the train appearing in the distance: this train might be the last.”
    Dorlies von Kaphengst Meissner Rasmussen, Escaping the Russian Onslaught: A Family’s Story of Fleeing the Russian Army after Hitler’s Nazi Regime

  • #6
    K.  Ritz
    “I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward. 
    I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
    We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
    He, of course, replied, “No.”
    “Well, we’re going to a better place.”
    When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
    Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
    “Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
    “My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
    I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would.  He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined. 
    Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
    “Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
    K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

  • #7
    Sybrina Durant
    “The promise of a reward can help encourage children to keep at a hard task. Offer something fun each time the child takes time to practice.”
    Sybrina Durant, Boo's Shoes - A Rabbit and Fox Story: Learn To Tie Shoelaces

  • #8
    Sara Pascoe
    “The sunset bled into the edges of the village. Smoke curled out of the cottage chimney like a crooked finger.”
    Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

  • #9
    Gary Clemenceau
    “And every little burg had the same building hierarchy: banks, churches, insurance companies, and hardware stores.”
    Gary Clemenceau, Banker's Holiday: A Novel of Fiscal Irregularity

  • #10
    Niccolò Machiavelli
    “When trouble is sensed well in advance it can easily be remedied; if you wait for it to show itself any medicine will be too late because the disease will have become incurable. As the doctors say of a wasting disease, to start with it is easy to cure but difficult to diagnose;after a time, unless it has been diagnosed and treated at the outset, it becomes easy to diagnose but difficult to cure. So it is in politics.”
    Niccolò Machiavelli, The Prince

  • #11
    Chuck Dixon
    “All men have limits. They learn what they are and they learn not to exceed them. I ignore mine.”
    Chuck Dixon

  • #12
    “However, there is a way to know for certain that Noah’s Flood and the Creation story never happened: by looking at our mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA).  Mitochondria are the “cellular power plants” found in all of our cells and they have their own DNA which is separate from that found in the nucleus of the cell.  In humans, and most other species that mitochondria are found in, the father’s mtDNA normally does not contribute to the child’s mtDNA; the child normally inherits its mtDNA exclusively from its mother.  This means that if no one’s genes have mutated, then we all have the same mtDNA as our brothers and sisters and the same mtDNA as the children of our mother’s sisters, etc. This pattern of inheritance makes it possible to rule out “population bottlenecks” in our species’ history.  A bottleneck is basically a time when the population of a species dwindled to low numbers.  For humans, this means that every person born after a bottleneck can only have the mtDNA or a mutation of the mtDNA of the women who survived the bottleneck. This doesn’t mean that mtDNA can tell us when a bottleneck happened, but it can tell us when one didn’t happen because we know that mtDNA has a rate of approximately one mutation every 3,500 years (Gibbons 1998; Soares et al 2009). So if the human race were actually less than 6,000 years old and/or “everything on earth that breathed died” (Genesis 7:22) less than 6,000 years ago, which would be the case if the story of Adam and the story of Noah’s flood were true respectively, then every person should have the exact same mtDNA except for one or two mutations.  This, however, is not the case as human mtDNA is much more diverse (Endicott et al 2009), so we can know for a fact that the story of Adam and Eve and the story of Noah are fictional.   There”
    Alexander Drake, The Invention of Christianity

  • #13
    Jean-Dominique Bauby
    “Yet I understood the poetry of such mind games one day when, attempting to ask for my glasses (lunettes), I was asked what I wanted to do with the moon (lune).”
    Jean-Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: A Memoir of Life in Death

  • #14
    Victor Hugo
    “The soul gropes in search of a soul, and finds it. And that soul, found and proven, is a woman. A hand sustains you, it is hers; lips lightly touch your forehead, they are her lips; you hear breathing near you, it is she. To have her wholly, from her devotion to her pity, never to be left alone, to have that sweet shyness as, to lean on that unbending reed, to touch, Providence with your hands and be able to grasp it in your arms; God made palpable, what transport! The heart, that dark celestial flower, bursts into a mysterious bloom. You would not give up that shade for all the light in the world! The angel soul is there, forever there; if she goes away, it is only to return; she fades away in a dream and reappears in reality. You feel an approaching warmth, she is there. You overflow with serenity, gaiety, and ecstasy; you are radiant in your darkness. And the thousand little cares! The trifles that are enormous in this void. The most ineffable accents of the womanly voice used to comfort you, and replacing for you the vanished universe! You are caressed through the soul. You see nothing but you feel yourself adored. It is paradise of darkness.”
    Victor Hugo, Les Misérables



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