#I would love to hear your opinions if you have nay on the subject because I find it so interesting

[kassasnek]

A creature of magic, and what that means for merlin: a little short analysis on Merlin's magic I had after watching the witchfinder

I just rewatched "the witchfinder" with my friend (we're doing a season 2 speedrun) and we discussed somethings about Merlins magic that I found interesting

So, We all know that Merlin is a so called "creature of magic". It's a bit hard to understand what they mean by this, but we think that the absolut best way to describe it is by seeing it as a reflex. Merlin isn't fully human, because his reflexes work in a fundamentaly different way than our.

When we see an arrow flying towards someone, our instinct is to push them away from harm.

Merlin instinct is to shield with magic

Now, this would all be completely fine and dandy if it wasn't for the magic ban. But because of it, Merlin is constantly fighting his own natural reflexes.

When Merlin is sent to the dungeons because he's accused of being a sorcerer, he knows that he could break free at any moment. When Gauis is sent to the dungeons to be tortured, Merlin knows that he could take down the whole castle, and damn the consequences. When Arthur drags him down to the dungeons, he knows that he could take him out with "less than one blow". But instead he is binding himself stuck, fighting against his own self, identity and soul, not using magic because of the repercussions.

When we see a ball flying towards our face, we catch it with our hands. That's our instinct.

Merlin has to see the ball coming towards his face, but still not use his hands by complete self restrain, and force himself to get hit with the ball repeatedly. (all the while being told that he's such an idiot for not catching it with his hands)

When Merlin conjures the horse from the smoke in the witchfinder episode, it's because holding your own hands behind your back aches, and sometimes you just have to shake them lose. It's not because he wants to have a bit of fun, it's because holding it back must pulse in the back of his head, until he must let go, if just for a little bit.

Of course all of this is kind of obvious. But it really stood out to me tonight while talking to my friend about it. It's so easy to forget how much Merlin truly has to force himself to be human in everyone else's way. It's something that's there in every episode.

Merlin had to hold his own hands behind his back, constantly. And I think we forget what that means for him as a creature of magic.

#This might be completely wrong #I would love to hear your opinions if you have nay on the subject because I find it so interesting #Poor merlin #bbc merlin #merlin #Merlin analysis

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

Hii can u do a imagine abt like the reader and vinnie got into a fight bc of the rumors going around abt vinnie and nai and she saw the paparazzi picture too with nai and vinnie and nai is kinda touchy to vinnie (the reader and vinnie are secretly dating) and the reader hang out with larray and charli and dixie and she keep thinking abt the fight so she kinda had a bad day and when she came home she said this to vinnie “ I know you are mad at me but I had a really bad day so can we pause the fight for 5 minutes I need a hug “ with Vinnie plss thank youuu!

*Picture's not mine*

As long we got each other - Vinnie Hacker

So I changed it up a bit, hope that’s okay with you☺️ Thanks for your request, so sorry for the wait. Enjoy 💜

Warning : a Little bit of angst

Word Count : 1.3k

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‘’ TikTok stars, Vinnie Hacker and Nailea Devora were seen hanging out at Saddle Ranch with other known creators. The pair has been spotted a lot together recently, hanging out and posting videos together. Their fans has been shipping them and –“ you closed the tab, sighing.

You were watching one of Hollywood Fix’s latest video while Vinnie was in the shower. You could feel your blood boil into your veins at the newest gossip. You got tired of hearing all these rumors about your boyfriend. It was your choice to keep your relationship a secret, not wanting people to come after you for dating one of the most hyped TikToker to ever be.

You were quickly making a name for yourself and you preferred laying low with Vinnie, scared of people cancelling you or calling you a clout chaser. He understood and respected your decision, even though the only thing he wanted to do, was show you to the world. Vinnie was madly in love with you, to say the least, showering you with his affection any time of the day. He often stayed at your place, liking the calm and the intimacy the two of you could have, it was far different from the Hype House.

“Earth to (Y/N)” a voice startled you. Looking towards the bathroom, you were met with a dripping Vinnie. He was leaning against the door frame, drying his wet hair with a towel while another one sat tightly against his hips.

“What?” you asked rather harshly, making him put both his hands up in defense

“Whoa there, Tiger. What’s gotten you all worked up?”

“Nothing”

“I know you baby. Something is bothering you, I can tell. Talk to me” he approached you, sitting next to you, on the bed.

“Are you and Nai sleeping together?” you asked looking directly into his eyes

“Wh-what? Of course not, I’m in a relationship with you, I would never do that”

“Well maybe, she should know because she’s all over you.” you responded, sighing loudly.

“She’s just my friend (Y/N), nothing more” he said putting his hand on your right knee, before you got up swatting his gesture away.

“Really? You always go out with her, everyone is talking about you and I’m getting tired of it. You take her out like the both of you are in a relationship” you said getting frustrated

“I don’t take her out, we all go as a group. Plus, if my girlfriend wasn’t so ashamed of me, maybe she’s the one I would take out” he got up, turning his back at you, heading towards his dresser to grab some clothes

“I’m not ashamed of you, don’t change the subject Vinnie. You know why I want to keep our relationship a secret”

“Then stop giving me bullshit about going out with my friends, I asked you a bunch of time to come and you always deny my offer. Going out to lunch as a group doesn’t mean people will think we are together.” He sighs before covering his upper body with a white t-shirt

“You know damn well, girls who hang out with you always get hate, Nai is probably the only exception. You said you respected my decision”

“I do respect your decision, but it doesn’t mean I have the same opinion. I just want to be with you and show you off (Y/N). It’s difficult for me too.” He said turning to face you, his eyes burning into yours

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one getting the hate” you responded aggravated with the conversation

“You’re not going to get hate (Y/N), and even if you did, who cares? It doesn’t matter as long as we have each other”

“Arghhhh, you don’t get it” your voice getting louder, grabbing your bag turning around marching towards the door

“Where are you going?” he asked you dumfound

“Out, we’re both clearly angry with the situation, and I prefer to leave before one of us says something we would regret.” You said, exiting the room leaving Vinnie speechless and fuming.

You had gone to join your friends, trying to change your mind from the argument you just had with your boyfriend. Hanging out with Larray, Charlie and Dixie for sure helped, but they could see you were not your normally bubbly self.

“You sure everything is good girl?” Larray asked you, looking worried

“Yeah (Y/N) you seem off today” Charlie emphasized while sipping on her iced coffee

“Oh euhm yes, everything is okay. I don’t know I’m just tired I guess” you responded giving your friends a small smile trying to reassure them.

After a day filled with shopping and paparazzi following you around, you decided to head back home, feeling exhausted. You wiggled your keys, unlocking the door, stepping inside, dropping your many bags on the floor before making your way to the living room plugging your cellphone. It had notified you earlier, indicating your phone was out of battery. A few seconds passed, before it rang multiple times, a bunch of text messages and missed calls coming through, most of them being from Vinnie.

“Where are you baby?”

“I’m sorry, can you please call me back”

“(Y/N), I’m starting to get worried now”

“I saw you were out with you friends, I know you’re mad at me baby, I’m sorry, I love you”

You sighed, contemplating whether to call him or not. Before thinking twice, you dialed his number, the phone ringing a couple of times before hearing his deep voice

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice sounding worried

“I know we’re fighting right now, but I had a really bad day and I need a hug” you said on the verge of tears

“I’ll be right over baby” he responded before hanging up. You went to change into some comfier clothes and washed your face before you heard a knock on the door. You went to open it and the moment you did, two big arms engulfed you in a hug. Your head found its way into his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I needed that” you mumbled, detaching yourself slightly as you looked into his eyes.

“I love you, you know that” he said his eyes burning into your soul making you close the gap between the both of you, going in for another hug.

“I’m sorry about the argument. It was stupid of me to accuse you of being with Nai”

“It’s okay baby, I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, I shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to worry about other girls, you’re the only one for me” he said kissing the top of your head

“And I respect your decision to keeping our relationship on the low. I’m just so in love with you and I just want to show you to the world, but I know it’s selfish of me to think this way” he sighed pulling your body away from him, only standing a few centimeters from each other. You pecked his lips, before smiling softly at him, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion

“Let’s go get ice cream” you said out of the blue

“What?” he said laughing lightly

“You heard me, let’s go get ice cream, together, as a couple” you took his hand dragging him out of the door

“You sure about that? I don’t want to pressure you” he said stopping you and bringing you closer to him

“Vinnie, I’m willing to go out with you in public, dressed like this and holding your hand and you’re questioning me?” you asked smirking at him “You were right earlier, I’m not afraid as long as we got each other”

That night you and Vinnie went to get ice cream a few fans snapping pictures of the both of you hand in hand smiling at each other, both your names soon trending on the internet.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading

Hope you like it, let me know what you think

-K

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker tiktok #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker angst #vinnie hacker fluff #Vinnie Hacker x you #vinnie #Vinnie imagine

[lossie92]

Hello again! I do hope I am not bothering you with the repeat anons, and if I am please know that I am so sorry. Don't feel obligated to respond if you don't wish too but I just wanted to say a few things.

First off, I'm so sorry you have gotten the virus, I completely understand where you're coming from with the lack of energy. I have cystic fibrosis which comes along with cronic pain and exhaustion so for the two plus weeks I was sick with the rona I think I was awake an average of 4 hours a day lol. I was lucky enough to have no lasting symptoms and I wish all the same to you. May you have a speedy recovery and your symptoms be mild, I'm sending you all the love 💗!

Second, I'm really thankful to hear your thoughts when it comes to darker or more triggering subjects, especially rape. I am 100% of the opinion that writing is complete fiction and a should be a safe space to explore and work though your thoughts and experiences. However, correct usage of tags are essential so that people are aware of and can currate what they wish to see or not see. The author needs to be aware of what kind of material they are creating and how it comes across. I don't want to get to personal, so I'll just leave it at thank you for spreading awareness about victim blaming in the rape culture we live in. Fiction is fine until it affects someone's reality.

Onto a more positive note, I wanted to thank you again for all the wonderful work you've put out into the world! I don't know what it is but since I've found your blog something clicked and I've gotten my spark back. I'm creating things again and I'm so happy to do so! I haven't written for anything besides school content and scientific papers in years and yet I've written so much in the past few weeks, just fun, stupid stuff I don't have to turn in for a grade or even show anyone if I don't want to! I've gotten out my old bags and boxes of yarn and half finished cross stitch projects and I'm so full of ideas I could just cry. I'm hoping to possibly make something based of one of your pieces if that would be alright? It's totally fine if not though, I would never want to steal someone's work!

I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point but once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you 🥰.

If you feel up for answering a question, here's a silly one: Pineapple on pizza, yay or nay? Or, what is the weirdest food combination you enjoy?

Hi there! Sorry for the late response, I wanted to be at least a bit coherent when responding to you. Hope you don't mind 😅

You're not bothering me at all! I actually really like getting your messages. Totally a highlight of the day!

Thank you for the well wishes! I feel much better now. Still fatigued af and coughing, but that's not all that different from the usual lol. I was awake more or less the same amount as you tbh and I still have to nap during the day, because I feel like shit otherwise. Hopefully it gets a bit better with time. Fingers crossed and all that.

Also, I hope you are feeling better now?

Thank you for saying that. I means a lot 🥺❤️

Omg I'm so happy to hear this! Yay to you for getting inspiration back! I'm glad I could be of help in that! It's awesome~! 😄 Yes, you can use one of my pieces as long as you credit me. I'm actually REALLY excited to see what you come up with (if you decide to share it ofc) 👀

I used to like pineapple on pizza, actually. Haven't had it in a long time though so my taste might have changed. When it comes to the weirdest food combo, I enjoy savoury dumplings with beetroot salad on the side. Tbh I don't personally consider this weird, but I have been told by other people that it is weird so🤷

#my fave anon #honestly #so nice

[sylvies-chen]

Hi! I wanted to get your perspective because I feel like you always have great takes on Matt but I found him uncharacteristically emotionally unintelligent this episode. His advice to "not overthink it/just go for it" instead of talking to Stella who's explicitly mentioned that she may never want to marry again is bananas to me. It would mean the world to Stella if Kelly had that conversation with her instead of disregarding her past feelings. And I just don't get all of his allusions to "actions speak louder" than words when he keeps saying that "it's never going to happen because Sylvie SAID that Dawson will always be an issue." Like he knows that words matter too. I don't know what about this episode set me off. Did you feel like it was OOC or is it just that he's stuck or something completely different? I would love to hear your thoughts! Thanks!

Ahh yes of course, I’d LOVE to talk about this! Any asks about all matters One Chicago are accepted, nay, encouraged! Let’s get into it:

I will admit, I did find it a tiny bit odd that Matt gave that advice to Kelly given Stella’s past but I think he just didn’t want his friend to feel dissuaded from doing something he’s clearly been thinking about for a while. To me, it was a blip in the writing because it bordered the line between easing Kelly’s nerves and dismissing Stella’s past but I don’t think that was a Matt thing, just a lack of clarity in the writing.

I think the confusing thing this episode was that the lines between what lessons were being applied to Stellaride’s situation vs. Brettsey’s situation were very blurred. Matt was giving advice to Kelly who then told him to take his own advice but I think his comments about actions speaking louder than words and “she knows [how much he loves her]” were meant for Stellaride, not Brettsey. Because the two pairings are in very different stages right now and I think distinguishing what themes were meant for which ship is important. The biggest distinction so far is that they only made Matt give that advice about “not overthinking it and taking action” because they wanted it thrown back in his face. Matt needs that advice a hell of a lot more than Kelly right now in my opinion, the writers just didn’t know how else to squeeze it in there. The second theme about actions speaking louder than words and Stella knowing he loves her is something pertaining more to Severide.

I also want to say this: it’s hard for me to officially, comfortably say whether something is OOC or not— at least not unless it’s something REALLY drastic. It’s a term/concept that is seriously subjective. No person will have the exact same interpretation of a character (even with a 98% overlap there will be a 2% difference), meaning that everyone’s idea of what is OOC for certain characters is going to constantly change. It feels like too much of a buzzword if that makes sense. But when we’re looking at Matt’s journey this season, I don’t think it’s OOC for him to be conflicted like this. And definitely not for him to be emotionally stunted LOL. Him being stuck is actually the best way to describe it! Kelly’s advice to him to stop overthinking things isn’t just coming from nowhere: Matt Casey has been getting in his own head for too long. I think he knows that actions and words are both important but words seem too pointless up until this point for him. I mean, the guy grew up being taught to bottle things up and I think Sylvie rejecting him sort of sent him curling back up into himself in that sense. After all, he shouldn’t tell her everything he’s feeling if he doesn’t think it’ll do him any good (or make things worse), right? WRONG. That’s where Severide’s advice comes in, because Matt’s in his own head and thinks that anything he’d do would be useless, and Severide was there to tell him no, it wouldn’t be. Tell her this stuff, stop thinking and start doing. Thinking gets you nowhere and where you’re at right now isn’t good either. And that’s the wakeup call Matt needs.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on Matt’s headspace! This was super long but that’s my take on it. It’s late here so there’s probably some grammatical errors in this but I’ll fix that in the morning lol. I hope this offered some insight and feel free to add your opinions in the replies or reblogs!!

#abby.answers #matt casey #brettsey

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Assassin’s Greed: The Story of Charles Guiteau

My favorite historical figure has got to be presidential assassin Charles Guiteau, a person you’ve likely never heard of.  You probably know John Wilkes Booth and Lee Harvey Oswald, but Guiteau (pronounced get-oh) is not a household name.  Where Booth and Oswald shot famous presidents, Guiteau shot James Garfield, who had served for only four months at the time and is best known for having been assassinated.  Guiteau was cartoonishly twisted, with delusions of grandeur and a Type A god complex.  He believed himself to be faultless, guiltless, a renaissance man, a master political advisor, and perhaps even the Third Coming of Christ (yes, third; you’ll see what I mean below).  His life story sounds like something scripted to be as pathetic and conceited as possible, and it would be funny were it not so tragic.

So come with me on an adventure back to the gay old days of the 19th century, so we can delve into the mind of America’s least favorite assassin.  Strap in, cause this is a long one.

Charles Julius Guiteau was born in 1841 to a family of French descent (you may have been able tell because he’s an -eau).  Despite this, it is important to remember that he never learned to speak a word of French.  Keep that in mind.  He flunked out of school because he never felt the need to study for any exams.  He was convinced he already had perfect knowledge on any given subject, “why fix what ain’t broken?”

In 1860, he joined a cult because his dad was friends with the leader.  (Side note: this cult would later dissolve when a tornado destroyed their headquarters, transforming into a company that made spoons.  This has nothing to do with the story, I just thought it was funny). This cult coined the phrase “free love,” which at the time just meant everyone was allowed, nay, encouraged, to bone everyone else; older women were ordered to act as “sexual mentors” for adolescent boys because they were the least likely to conceive. It was messed up.  The cult also thought that Jesus had already come a second time, in 70 AD, so they had free reign on Earth to do whatever they wanted with no consequences.  The end of days had come and gone, so it was smooth sailing from here on out.

Guiteau idolized the cult leader, believing him to be the perfect man in every way.  The cult leader however believed Guiteau was unstable and unfit for the community.  Do you know how messed up you have to be to get kicked out of a cult?  People were so put off by his behavior that they gave him the nickname “Charles Get-Out,” and when he sued the leader for mistreatment his dad wrote a long apology letter saying “I’m sorry my son’s a weirdo, please don’t think less of me for it.”

He became a lawyer by sheer blind luck, barely passing his bar exam because he just so happened to work as a clerk at the Chicago law firm in question.  He lost the one and only case he argued in court, and spent the rest of his career as a corrupt bill collector.  He short-changed all of his clients, overcharging and under-refunding, pocketing the difference before skipping town to avoid the police.  He did this often, hopping from town to town and leaving right before they could run him out on a rail.

In 1872 he endorsed Horace Greeley for president against incumbent Ulysses S. Grant; both men were Republicans, but Greeley caucused with the southern Democrats and became their nominee.  He lost in a landslide, and died less than a month after the election, but again, that’s not important to the story.  What is important is that Guiteau was convinced that had Greeley become president, he would have rewarded Guiteau’s endorsement with a federal appointment.  Guiteau was just some schmuck, a nobody, but he believed that his approval was somehow the most important thing a candidate could receive, and that they would be undyingly grateful for it.

Guiteau believed that he was ordained by God to spread His word, and so concluded that his own word was therefore the word of God.  He tried to start his own cult, plagiarizing the text from the cult leader he idolized, but it never got off the ground.  In 1877 he was on a boat that collided with another; theirs sunk, but his made it back to port, so he was further convinced that his life had been spared for a higher purpose.  If Christ had come again in 70 AD, Guiteau believed he had returned for the Third time this very day.  At this point, his dad thought he was possessed by the devil.

You could say they didn’t exactly see eye to eye.

1880 comes along, he’s been embezzling and stealing even more money from even more cities, avoiding consequences all the while, and decides to once again throw his hat in the ring of politics.  He endorses Grant for a third nonconsecutive term, despite having “campaigned” against him in 1872.  Guitaeu changed his mind with Orwellian confidence, “oh, I always supported Grant, Greeley was destined to lose, I knew it and actually did my best to make sure his campaign floundered, I was always looking out for my main man Ulysses!”

Guiteau handed out leaflets and gave a speech endorsing Grant to basically no one; he may as well have just stood on a street corner shouting his opinion at passersby.  Grant lost the nomination to one Congressman James Garfield, so Guiteau took the leaflets, crossed out Grant’s name, wrote in Garfield’s, and continued passing them out. The rest of the text remained the same though, so it made no sense, praising Garfield for leading the Union Army to victory during the Civil War, and saying he deserved a third term despite this being his first time running.  Garfield won the presidency, and Guiteau was absolutely convinced that it was because of his leaflets.  “What else could it have been?”

March 1881: Being wholly responsible for Garfield’s election, he starts writing him fan letters singing his own praise.  “As you already know, I got you elected (you’re welcome, by the way).  I did this out of the kindness of my heart, and all I ask in return, all I feel I deserve, is an ambassadorship.  France will do nicely, I’ve always wanted to live in Paris!”  As you remember, he can’t speak a word of French, “but I can learn on the job!  I’m the best at learning things, but I’m sure you already know that about me.  I look forward to our partnership. Your biggest fan, Charles.”

No word from the president, but Guiteau doesn’t worry.  He just writes more letters.  “Didn’t hear back from you, don’t know if you read my first letter, but just in case you didn’t, I’ll recap; you won because of me, I’m ready for my federal job whenever you are.  Thanks and you’re welcome.  Your smartest and most qualified fan, Charles.”

Still nothing.  He moved to Washington, DC and became a homeless vagrant.  He went from house to house, spending a night, eating the food, then leaving before rent was due; classic Guiteau!  The White House kept ignoring his letters, so he decided to take matters into his own hands and personally confront the Secretary of State.  “I’m sure you’ve read my correspondences, you know my qualifications, I am ready to go to Paris, just say the word.”

“Oh my God, we’re not giving you a federal job, stop writing us letters, leave the president alone, you’re a total nutjob.”

Guiteau was heartbroken.  He couldn’t understand how Garfield could be such an ingrate!  “I gave everything for that man, I sacrificed so much, and this is how he thanks me? I campaigned for him, I gave speeches, I handed out, like, so many leaflets!”  He felt ignored, he felt BETRAYED.  “How dare he? How DARE he?!?  He owes me! He’s got to be the least considerate person on the planet!  I put him office, I-”  At this, he had a horrible realization.  “Oh my God, I put him in office... He’s only there because of me... It’s all my fault!  I gave this bastard the key to the White House... I gave him the nuclear codes!” [Guiteau was again misinformed, because nuclear weapons wouldn’t be invented for another 64 years]  “I’ve created a monster!  I put him there, and only I can take him out!  I need to assassinate President Garfield.”

And so the pieces begin to fall into place.

He borrows money from his brother-in-law to buy a gun at a pawn shop.  He believed God was telling him to kill the president; either that or he was telling God that the president needed to die and was just giving Him a heads up.  At the pawnshop he specifically chose an expensive revolver with an ivory handle because he thought it would look better in the display case of the museum they would eventually build for him.  He even managed to haggle down the price one whole dollar (about $26 today, so good on him, master deal maker).

July 2, 1881.  President Garfield arrived at a train station in DC, and Guiteau is there waiting for him. He had no body guard because this was the 1880s, and nobody thought someone would be crazy enough to shoot the president in peacetime.  The only government employee present with Garfield was the Secretary of War, a young man by the name of Robert Todd Lincoln.  Yes, that Robert Todd Lincoln, son of Abraham, the first and so far only president to be assassinated.  And he got to witness the second, firsthand.

Guiteau shot Garfield twice, but only wounded him; he fell to the ground, bleeding but very much alive.  Despite this, Guiteau was confident the job was done. “Don’t worry everyone, you don’t need to panic, the tyrant is dead, you can thank me later.”  The police ran at him, “officers, please, take the former president’s body away, it’s bleeding all over the train station. He’s as much a nuisance dead as he was alive, am I right?  Wait, why do you have those batons?”  The tackled him to the ground, as police are wont to do to people who shoot the president.  “Okay, o-ho-ho-kay, I get it, you guys need to put on a show for the crowds. I understand, I shouldn’t have used a gun in public, I should’ve waited until I could had him alone, I get it, you don’t need to be so rough with me. Listen, just talk to President Arthur, he’ll have my back, I just put him in office, he’ll vouch for me, it’s cool.”

Garfield lived for two more months, wasting away in agony from infection because his doctors didn’t even think about washing their hands.  They would poke around his bullet holes with their fingers to fish out fragments, poking organs, tearing muscle, just making it much worse than it needed to be.  Garfield may have survived if they had just left him alone; years later, Teddy Roosevelt would be similarly shot, and survived with the bullet in his chest for seven years.  Garfield died on September 19, 1881, at which point Guiteau was officially charged with murder.

Being a lawyer, he wanted to represent himself in court, but he was appointed a public defender instead.  The defender quit after a week because Guiteau was impossible to work with, so his brother-in-law came on as his new lawyer; he wasn’t a criminal defense lawyer, just another bill collector like Guiteau, he was literally the only person willing to help him out for free.  Guiteau claimed he was not guilty by reason of insanity, that God had possessed him, simply using his body as an avatar and smite Garfield.  “It was divine intervention, nothing could be done to stop it, it was out of my hands.”

He made a mockery of the trial, cursing at everyone from the judge to the jury to his own lawyer to the crowd.  He ignored his lawyer and started asking courtroom spectators for their advice, he wrote his testimony in the form of poems and delivered them to the captive audience.  He reveled in being the center of attention, ignoring the fact that literally everyone hated him for killing the president.  He expected a swift acquittal, and started planning his own campaign for president for 1884, “President Arthur owes me for putting him in office, so I’m sure he’ll step aside and let me run in his place, it’s the least he could do.  Maybe I’ll choose him as my running mate, I haven’t decided yet.”

January 1882, he was found guilty and sentenced to death, to which he responded by calling the jury a bunch of “consummate jackasses” (and yes, that’s the real, actual quote, no joke).  He was dragged out of the court, screaming obscenities at everyone within earshot.  He wasn’t worried though, because he was convinced Arthur would pardon him.

In jail, he composed more poems singing his praise, “Ding dong, the witch is dead!  Which old witch? The Garfield witch! Ding dong, the Garfield witch is dead!”  Arthur didn’t pardon him, so he called him an even worse ingrate than Garfield; Guiteau tried to appeal his case so he could shoot Arthur too, but it was rejected for obvious reasons.

June 30, 1882, he is led to the gallows to be hanged.  For his last words, he delivered yet another poem, this time an epic ballad about how he was now leaving this mortal coil to return to the kingdom of Heaven.  Entitled “I am going to the Lordy,” it had a second or third grade reading level, with lines like “I wonder what I’ll do when I get to the Lordy?” and “I saved the party, glory Hallelujah.”  He wanted to have a full orchestra come and give the piece musical accompaniment, but the jail told him no, again for obvious reasons.  He didn’t even write music for it, he just thought it was so inspiring that the orchestra would know exactly what he intended and improvise something great.

He read the poem out loud to the crowd gathered to see him die, and was so overcome by how good it was that he broke down crying multiple times, “I’m such a genius!”  He may or may not have done a little jig to go along with it, as you do when delivering the world’s greatest poem about the world’s greatest man.

Black hood, noose, trapdoor, neck snap, dead.

The jail refused to turn over his body to his family because they were too poor for a proper burial service (he had wasted all of their money on his defense).  An autopsy showed that he was unable to retract his foreskin, so doctors theorized that was what drove him crazy enough to kill the president.  Gotta love 19th century psychology; Freud has been largely discredited in 2019, but in 1882 he wasn’t even credited yet, he was just some random doctor, not famous for anything.

The warden sold pieces of Guiteau’s noose as souvenirs, and eventually disinterred the corpse to donate to a museum so people could pay money to see the man who shot the president.  They cut out his brain to figure out what was wrong with him; one of its membranes was thicker than normal, possibly syphilitic, and modern medical professionals debate over which topical mental illness he likely had (some say schizophrenia, most agree that Narcissistic Personality Disorder had a huge part to play).  They also spit-polished his skeleton and turned it into a dummy to hang up in the corner of a science class, but for some reason they hid it away in a storage room rather than giving it to a university as intended.

And so ends the story of Charles Julius Guiteau.  He was a man without reason, without honor, without a lick of common sense or self-awareness.  I feel bad for him because despite how horrible a person he was, he was clearly sick and needed help at a time when no such help existed.  His life story is comical and tragic.  He’ll never be as well known as John Wilkes Booth or Lee Harvey Oswald, and that’s probably for the best.  A fitting end for a narcissist, to be mostly forgotten by history.

His gun isn’t even in a museum, the police eventually misplaced it.  And I’m sure THAT is what he’d be most mad about today.

#my stuff #really long post #story time #assassin #assassination #Garfield assassination #James Garfield #POTUS #President #Charles Guiteau #Guiteau #Garfield #1881 #John Wilkes Booth #Abraham Lincoln #Lincoln Assassination #Lee Harvey Oswald #John F Kennedy #Kennedy Assassination #history #true story #well mostly true #I took a few comedic liberties #stranger than fiction #Assassins #President of the United States #sounds fake but okay #that doesn't sound right #but I don't know enough about the Garfield assassination to dispute it

[lovemesomesurveys]

What’s your name, baby? ;] Ew the “baby” made me cringe lol, but anyway my name is Stephanie. And how are you doing on this fine day? It’s been a typical meh kinda day. Alright, enough of that. We all know how boring that shit is. So, do you believe in any conspiracy theories? lol. Some of them made me question and wonder, but mostly I just find stuff like that fun and interesting. Do you prefer actual books or those weird devices like the Kindle? I use the Kindle app on my phone and it works great for me. I have access to thousands of books at my fingertips.  Is there a certain social networking site you just can’t stay away from? Tumblr, apparently. 10 years and going strong, ha.

Do you prefer female or male vocalists? I like both. How do you feel about the oil spill in the Gulf? * I dont know which oil spill ur referring to exactly, but its obviously not a good thing. Is there anyone (w a SOUL) who actually thinks that oil spills or environmental catastrophes are a positive thing? Like, it jst rlly MAKES THEIR DAY to hear abt nature being destroyed? <<< HA, right. Like, “Oh, I feel pretty great about it!” Around what time do you start feeling tired enough to go to sleep? I mean, I’m fighting sleep all day if we’re being real. But I usually go to sleep around 2ish or so. What trends do you refuse to give in to? * Im not a vry trendy person to begin w so its not like Im sitting here trying to resist giving into something, lmao. There are plenty of trends that dont interest me whatsoever, tho. I only partake in something if it suits me, not to be up w the times or relevant or whatever <<< I’m the same way.  What types of perfume/cologne do you like on your preferred sex? A lot of colognes smell pretty great. I really like cedar wood and sandalwood. What subjects in history interest you most? A lot of it does.  When was the last time you went bowling? Back in 2009, I think.  Are you superstitious in any way? I sometimes don’t like to say certain things out loud out of fear of making it come true. Oh, and I do the “knock on wood” thing, but that’s really more out of habit.  How do you get rid of anxiety? Ha, I’d sure like to know. Do you find it easy to express your feelings to someone? Nooo.  ^How about when you really, really care for that person? Expressing my feelings is something I really struggle with in general. Are there any items of jewelry you never/rarely take off? Nope. Has a song ever made you cry before? Yeah, many songs have. ^If so, what about it brought you to tears? Memories attached to it or the lyrics. Some songs just sound sad, ya know? Are you a more of a homebody, or someone who’s always out with friends? I’ve become a total hermit crab over these past few years. I don’t have friends or a social life anymore. What’s the title of the book nearest to you? There’s several books on my bookshelf nearby. Are you materialistic? No, I wouldn’t say that. I mean, I do like my MacBook and my iPhone I admit, but that’s like the biggest thing. Describe the person you like/love in five words. I don’t like or love anyone in the romantic sense currently. Would you consider yourself open-minded? I think so. Is there anything in your life right now that needs fixing? Everything? I’m a mess. Are you old fashioned in any way? I feel like I am with some things. Do you find yourself correcting people’s grammar often? Only mentally. I don’t call ‘em out on it. When was the last time someone gave you a massage? Never. Reese’s ice cream: Yay or nay? Yay. Tell me something about yourself that I might find interesting. I share enough in surveys. Would you say that the simple things in life make you happy? Some things do, like my first cup of coffee in the morning. Aren’t cinnamon rolls downright heavenly? :3 They are quite delicious. When was the last time you were in an amazingly awesome mood? I don’t even remember. Do you come up with your own words or sayings often? No. Have you ever been on Fmylife.com? xD Yeah. I used to go on there often back in the day. It was pretty entertaining. Which holiday do you dislike most? There isn’t one I really dislike, just ones that I’m not as into. Were you ever into that gel bracelet craze? Yeah. Do you have any scars on the palms of your hands? No. What’s the first thing you think of when I say ‘pearl necklace’? I think of the really nice one I used to have that broke. :( How do you handle stress? Not well. Have you ever had jury duty? I’ve received the jury notice summons or whatever a few times, but I always get excused because of health reasons. Gummi worms: Yay or nay? Nay. I don’t like gummy stuff. What do you do when you have 'me time’? I have a lot of “me” time and I do the things I’ve listed countless times now in surveys. What’s your opinion on Weird Al Yankovic? I liked some of his parodies.  Have you ever met someone online that you wanted to meet in real life? Yeah, several people.  Is there something you need to get off your chest at the moment? Blah. What would be a clever name for a giraffe? * Who’s that guy from Kiss w the long-ass tongue? Lets call the giraffe that <<< Gene Simmons? Hahah. Do you always mean it when you say 'I love you’? Yes. Those aren’t words I just throw around. When was the last time you got your car washed? I don’t have a car of my own, I don’t drive. Give me an example of a sick death metal band. I don’t listen to that kind of music. How often do you listen to bands from other countries? I like some artists from Sweden and the UK. Do you tan easily? No. I used to when I was a kid, but probably because I spent like all day outside back then. Now cause I very rarely spend much time outdoors, anytime I spend a significant amount of time outdoors (like at the beach) I burn. When was the last time you entertained yourself with shadow puppets? :3 Not since I was a kid.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[spacejellyfish3]

Thought I was joking about that essay in my last post, didn’t ya?

Well guess again.

So if you know me, you know that my absolute favorite comic book storyline, NAY, fictional storyline of all time is the incredible, incomparable, indomitable, Dark Phoenix Saga...

I love this story to death! It’s such a great tale of love, loss, pain, action, and space genocide! It’s the story that cemented Chris Claremont as the definitive X-Men writer AND catapulted Wolverine into the ensemble darkhorse we know now! What’s not to love?

But everytime DPS gets adapted, it falls flat with an unimaginable thud. There are many reasons for this, and in this tangent I will be listing the reasons why I, in all my teenage wisdom, think adapting the Dark Phoenix Saga will be a thankless, thankless result for everyone of its fans:

1–The Changes:

This is the reason I hear of the most whenever a DPS adaptation is criticized. You know the drill; they changed it, now it sucks yadda yadda I’m gonna complain to the internet about it! (Hello irony, it’s been a while...)

But in all seriousness, this complaint is a mixed bag of sorts; any adaptation has to have changes not only to be unique and original to fans new and old, but also to fit the new medium it’s being adapted into. This is true for many Marvel films; Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse may be adapted from the Spider-Verse event comic, yes, but it’s change of the method of transportation from The Great Web of Life and Destiny to a particle collider as well as its focus on just six Spider-People instead of thousands makes the story more clear and concise but still adhering to the roots of the comics, and while Days of Future Past’s switching up of the characters involved and plot points is annoying to some, it did so in a way that made sense and kept true to the plot of the original.

But for some odd reason, any changes made to the Dark Phoenix Saga ends in tragedy (which is hilarious to me considering how the storyline ends). The Last Stand (which I am only acknowledging as existing for the purposes of this essay, and everything besides Kelsey Grammer as Beast, Ellen Page as Kitty Pryde, and that one scene with the family in the car on the Golden Gate Bridge can go die in a dumpster fire..) changed the Phoenix from an intergalactic force to a psychopathic split personality in Jean that Professor X suppressed for years, which, to be frank, I could forgive since the 2000s X-Movies were set up to be more realistic than the comics. What I can’t forgive is the addition of characters like Magneto to a story that they weren’t even a cameo in, the numerous plot holes, the atrocious Phoenix costume, and fusing DPS with The Cure storyline for some god forsaken reason...

And while Dark Phoenix 2019 seems to at least try and be more faithful to the original story (with a Mastermind analogue, aliens, and keeping the Phoenix Force an actual intergalactic force of power), only time will tell whether or not it is as such...

2–The Characters:

In any story, the characters are one of the most important aspects. They move the plot, twist the narrative, make funny quips, etc...And for the Dark Phoenix Saga, the most important character is Jean Grey herself.

And you might be saying: “But Jellyfish, isn’t that kind of obvious?” Well, in any other case, you might be right. But for some weird reason, Jean is never defined enough as a character for us to care.

In The Last Stand, Jean is basically an afterthought while the audience is subjected to “The Professor X, Magneto, Wolverine Show”; she’s just there to act as a macguffin for the characters to fight over who occasionally has a line or two with a hint of character depth. It’s insulting how I know more about Movie!Nightcrawler (who we got to know over the course of a single movie) than I do about Movie!Jean (who we had THREE movies to get to know). Dark Phoenix 2019 does carry the positive of putting Jean in the role of main character, but we still know nothing about her because the writing in X-Men Apocalypse for Jean is very, very lacking...

In the original Dark Phoenix Saga, Jean Grey was simultaneously hero, victim, and villain. She was a heroic figure who tragically fell from grace, ultimately sacrificing herself to save the entire universe. She was a selfish, cruel, and wicked monster who cared only for her own passions and desires, with no regard for the hundreds of thousands of lives she destroyed in the wake of her malevolent acts. She was caring, kind, fiery, fierce, terrifying, vain, passionate, etc...In every aspect of her—from Jean Grey to Marvel Girl to Phoenix to the Black Queen to Dark Phoenix—you could see shades of all of these traits and emotions in her. Phoenix and Dark Phoenix weren’t two separate entities, and neither were Jean Grey and the Phoenix Force itself. Two sides of the same coin. Yin and Yang. Mortal and Goddess. Maiden and Monster.

In the end, however all these problems with defining Jean Grey’s character are symptomatic of a much larger issue that these movies continuously fail to acknowledge. That reason being:

3–Buildup:

This reason may be, in my opinion, the one that ultimately causes the failure when it comes to adapting DPS.

The Dark Phoenix Saga is one of the most impactful and powerful stories ever written, and the reason behind that distinction is, in my opinion, because of the amount of buildup it had; this storyline wasn’t done in just a few months, it had taken place over 41 issues, which is five years in real life time. There was time spent with the X-Men and building up the Shi’ar Empire and Princess Lilandra as allies and friends to them. We were intrigued by the mystery of Jason Wyngarde and his intentions towards Jean, all while the sinister Hellfire Club lurked in the shadows. We saw the gradual change in Jean Grey as she became more powerful, as she seemingly relived the life of her ancestors all while growing more unsure of her identity with each timeslip. As Jean lost control of her reality and sense of self, the audience was right there with her, trying to make sense of the world we had come to love and enjoy.

And even before all of this—before the Dark Phoenix Saga and the Phoenix Saga—from the very first issue of Uncanny X-Men, we’ve been with Jean Grey. From being the newest student at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters to awakening her telepathic powers for the very first time to piloting a space shuttle in the middle of the worst solar storm in history, we’ve been with her every step of the way. And with that history, seeing that fiery redhead fight a herald of Galactus to a standstill, save the universe from destruction! It was so triumphant, so full of awe!!

And...it only served to make things even more tragic with the coming of the Dark Phoenix Saga. Seeing this girl, this heroic girl, as she was twisted and controlled and tamed and broken. As her struggles mounted, with each manipulation and lie, every use of her awesome power growing more tempting and seductive, Jean began to crack—piece by piece—until eventually she just...snapped.

To see her consume that inhabited Star like she was simply drinking a bottle of water, fighting her friends with no remorse, her kind face twisting into a monstrous mockery of a smile...It was terrifying. The buildup gave this story depth, impact, emotion! You could feel every punch, every blast of energy, every scream, every cry, every word echoing in your head and in your heart. And seeing her sacrifice—it was truly uncanny. Begging Cyclops, the man she loved with all her heart, to kill her before she transformed into a nightmare goddess of death was heartbreaking, but his refusal to do so led to her doing the unthinkable; from the moment they were abducted by the Shi’ar to face trial, she knew what she had to do. To destroy any chance of the Dark Phoenix rising ever again, she had to destroy it...and herself as well. So, to save the galaxy, Jean Grey killed herself. In the words of Uatu the Watcher:

“Jean Grey could have lived to become a god. But it was more important to her that she die...a human.”

This storyline was filled with blood, sweat, and tears. It’s a reading experience like no other. A love letter to every X-Men fan, past, present, and future. It astounded me when I first read it 5 years ago, and it still astounds me when I read it now...

And that’s why I think we might never get a great adaptation of the Dark Phoenix Saga; to build up a story like this is a undertaking. It wouldn’t be like the buildup to Infinity War, because that was done so that every character in the movie would be well-defined and known to the audience so that they would care what happened to them. If you wanted to make the Dark Phoenix Saga into a movie, you would have to build up Jean Grey throughout each and every movie before that while simultaneously building up the other X-Men too. It would require more than 5 movies to do this; introducing Jean Grey, having her in the X-Men as Marvel Girl for a 2 movies, doing the Phoenix Saga with the M’kraan crystal and the Shi’ar, another movie where she grows in power and develops, and finally the actual Dark Phoenix Saga.

This storyline is incredibly close to my heart for many reasons, not the least of which being that it was the comic book that officially got me into comic books for real. I want to see it done right so badly!!

It’s a tale of tragedy and terror. A symphony of love and loss. A story of absolute power corrupting absolutely, and the unbeatable spirit of humanity that triumphs forevermore...

#the dark phoenix saga #my magnum opus #dear lordy this took way longer than i expected #i’d like to thank chris claremont #and john byrne #and stan lee may he forever rest in peace #x-men #marvel #jean grey

[worldnewsinpictures]

Do it. Fuck you. Fuck you. You useless piece of shit. You absolute waste of space and air. You uneducated, ignorant, idiotic dumb swine, youre an absolute embarrassment to humanity and all life as a whole. The magnitude of your failure just now is so indescribably massive that one hundred years into the future your name will be used as moniker of evil for heretics. Even if all of humanity put together their collective intelligence there is no conceivable way they could have thought up a way to fuck up on the unimaginable scale you just did. When Jesus died for our sins, he must not have seen the sacrilegious act we just witnessed you performing, because if he did he would have forsaken humanity long ago so that your birth may have never become reality. After you die, your skeleton will be displayed in a museum after being scientifically researched so that all future generations may learn not to generate your bone structure, because every tiny detail anyone may have in common with you degrades them to a useless piece of trash and a burden to society. No wonder your father questioned whether or not your were truly his son, for you'd have to not be a waste of carbon matter for anyone to love you like a family member. Your birth made it so that mankind is worse of in every way you can possibly imagine, and you have made it so that society can never really recover into a state of organization. Everything has forever fallen into a bewildering chaos, through which unrecognizable core, you can only find misfortune. I would say the apocalypse is upon us but this is merely the closest word humans have for the sheer scale of horror that is now reality. You have forever condemned everyone you love and know into an eternal state of suffering, worse than any human concept of hell. You are such an unholy being, that if you step within a one hundred foot radius of a holy place or a place that has ever been deemed important by anyone, your distorted sac religious soul will ruin whatever meaning it ever had beyond repair. You are an idiotic, shiteating, dumbass ape and no one has ever loved you. Rhodes Island would have been better off if you'd never joined us. You are a lying, backstabbing, cowardly useless piece of shit and I hate you with every single part of my being. Even this worlds finest writers and poets from throughout the ages could never hope to accurately describe the scale on which you just fucked up, and how incredibly idiotic you are. Anyone that believes in any religion out there should now realize that they have been wrong this entire time, for if divine beings were real, they would never have allowed a being such as you to stain the earth and this universe. In the future there will be horror stories made about you, with the scariest part of them being that the reader has to realize that such an indescribable monster actually exists, and that the horrific events from the movie have actually taken place in the same world that they live in right now. You are the absolute embodiment of everything that has ever been wrong on this earth, yet you manage to make it so that that is only a small part of the evil that is your being. Never in the history of mankind has there been anyone that could have predicted such an eldrich abomination, but here you are. Its hard to believe that I am seeing such an incredible failure with my own eyes, but here I am, so unfortunately I cannot deny your existence. Even if I did my very best, my vocabulary is not able to describe the sheer magnitude of the idiotic mistake that is you. Even if time travel some day will be invented, there still would not be a single soul willing to go back in time to before this moment to fix history, because having to witness such incredible horrors if they failed would have to many mental and physical drawbacks that not even the bravest soul in history would be willing to risk it. I cannot imagine the pure dread your mother must have felt when she had to carry a baby for nine months and then giving birth to such a wretched monster as you. Not a single word of the incoherent, illogical rambling you may be wanting to do to defend yourself or apologize would ever be able to make up for what you just did. The countries of the world would have wanted to make laws preventing such a terrible event like this from ever happening again, but sadly this is not possible since your horrific actions just now have shattered every form of order this world once had, making concepts such as laws irrelevant. Right from the moment I first set my eyes on you I knew you were an absolute abomination of everything that is wrong with humanity. I was hoping I would have been able to prevent your evil from being released upon this world by tagging along and keeping my eye on you, but it is clear to me now that not even the greatest efforts would have been able to prevent a terrible event in this scale from occurring. You are the worst human being, or even just being in general, that I have ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Events like the infected plague apparently only happened with the goal of teaching humanity to survive such a horrible event as the one you just created, but not even mankinds greatest trials were able to even slightly prepare anyone for the insufferable evil you have just created. If you ever had them, your children would be preemptively killed to protect this universe from the possibility of anyone in your bloodline being even half as bad as you are, except you will never be able to have children, because not a single human being will ever want to come within a hundred mile radius of you and anything you have ever touched. You are a colossal disappointment not only to your parents, but to your ancestors and entire bloodline. The disgusting mistake that you have just made is so incredibly terrible that everyone who would ever be to hear about it would spontaneously feel an indescribable mixture of immense anger, fear and anxiety that emotionally and physically they would never truly be the same ever again. The sheer scale of your mistake, if ever to be materialized, would not only surpass the size of the world, but it would reach far beyond the edges of the known, and almost certainly the unknown universe. I could sit here and write paragraphs, nay, books describing your immense failure, yet even if I were to dedicate my life to describing the reality of what has just gone down here, and I would spend every moment of it until my heart stops beating working as hard and efficiently as possible, yet there is not even a snowballs chance in hell that I would be able to come close to transcribing the absolute shitshow you have just released upon the world. You are an irresponsible, idiotic, disgusting, unloved, horrible excuse for a living being whos soul contains less humanity than every ginger in history combined. The absolute disgust I feel when thinking about anything that has even a slight resemblance to anything that might have to do with you and your unholy actions is so incredibly great that when I am honest about it I think that even I do not posses a consciousness great enough to comprehend my own feelings about it. When people of Columbia fought to break free from Lungmen, countless soldiers fought and lost their lives in favor of a chance at a better future for their children, they did not give their lives to have you fuck the world up beyond repair to the degree that you are doing right now. Honestly, even when technology advances and studies on the subject become more and more accurate, I do not think humanity will ever truly be able to understand what your failure actually means for the universe. My hate for you and everything you stand for is so much deeper than the depths of Shambala that you could probably take the entire Lungmen population down there and back up around twenty million times before you would have sunk to the end of my hate, and honestly, I do not want to exaggerate, but I think that that insult was low balling it such a massive amount that all mountains in this world combined would not be able to stack up to this imprecise judgement in light of the fact that when being honest, my hate is almost certainly bottomless. There is no one in this world that has ever loved you, and especially after what you just did, no one will ever love you in the future either. There is no hope that your idiotic behavior and especially your crooked soul will ever change for the better, and in fact quite the opposite might be true. By making the mistake that you just did, you have shown me that you are so incredibly hopeless that you will only devolve into a more idiotic and wretched creature than you already are. The only possible way in which your future would be brighter than the black hole your existence currently is would exclusively be because there is absolutely no conceivable way that you would even be able to sink lower than the pathetic place your current failure has put you in.... Got an opinion about this? See what others are saying.... See MORE -> https://worldnewsinpictures.com/do-it #FuckFuck #FuckFuckYou #YouThe #YouTheEven #Jesus #JesusAfter #JesusAfterYour #YouYou #YouYouYou #Island #IslandYou #IslandYouEven #YouNever #YouNeverIts #EvenNot #EvenNotThe #YouEvents #YouEventsYou #TheYou #TheYouThe #Columbia #ColumbiaLungmen #ColumbiaLungmenHonestly #Lungmen #LungmenThere #LungmenThereThere #GotSee #GotSeeSee #useless #absolute

[46ten]

Hamilton-Schuyler Engagement Timeline, first half of 1780

[Please see Post 1 and Post 2 for an overview up to this point.]

My future posts on AH's thoughts on marriage will cover his letters to ES during their engagement (letters dated July to October 1780), and then his expressions to others about marriage from 1781-1804, and finally the Reynolds Pamphlet specifically. I'm taking a brief step back to go over the timeline of the AH-ES relationship in the winter and spring of 1780, to see if it can shed additional light on AH's thoughts.

Hamilton seems to have been in the grips of a depression in the early winter of 1780.  In a letter to John Laurens (8Jan1780), he writes:

I am chagrined and unhappy but I submit. In short Laurens I am disgusted with every thing in this world but yourself and very few more honest fellows and I have no other wish than as soon as possible to make a brilliant exit. ’Tis a weakness; but I feel I am not fit for this terrestreal Country.

AH had requested to go to the Southward and then was persuaded not to; he may have also asked for a command. He subscribed to a dancing assembly taking place in Jan-Feb in Morristown.  

It is recorded that he had romantic relationships with three different women early in the year. The first was with Cornelia Lott, the daughter of a NJ merchant.  Colonel Samuel B. Webb wrote a poem entitled "To Colonel Hamilton" in January 1780 that describes AH's ability to "whistle every tune of love" and his infatuation with Cornelia, to whom AH has yielded "all his heart!" In the poem, Webb warns Hamilton that "She’s but,—Sweet Sir, nay do not fret, She’s but—a beautiful brunette". It can't be overlooked that  AH's January 1780 sadness may have been partly related to unrequited feelings for C. Lott, in addition to the separation from JL and dissatisfaction with his role in the war.

The second romantic relationship was with someone we only know as Polly* (likely Mary), recorded by Tench Tilghman: "Alas poor Polly!  Hamilton is a gone man, and I am too old for his substitute." 12May1780 to Will Tilghman, in TT's memoirs.  *"Alas poor Polly" could be a play on a verse from The Beggar's Opera.

The third relationship was with Elizabeth Schuyler.  She arrived in Morristown in February 1780 (see Catharine (Kitty) Livingston letter to Sarah Jay).  Our first record of correspondence between ES and AH is a letter to both her and Kitty Livingston.  [Whether AH and ES first met in 1777 and whether there's more of a past to them as a couple is beyond the scope of what I'll focus on here.]  AH's next surviving letter to ES already places us in mid-March, and this is far beyond the "getting-to-know-you" phase - she is to remember "that your best friend is wherever I am," to "love your Hamilton as well as he does you," and she has given "too many proofs of your love to allow me to doubt it, and in the conviction that I possess that, I possess everything the world can give."  Indeed, within the next two weeks they announce to Philip Schuyler their intent to marry, for in a letter dated April 8 PS confirms to AH that he has already written and received response from Catharine Schuyler:

Yesterday I had the pleasure to receive a line from Mrs Schuyler in answer to mine on the subject of the one you delivered me at Morris town; she consents to Comply with your and her daughters wishes. You will see the Impropriety of taking the dernier pas where you are. Mrs. Schuyler did not see her Eldest daughter married. That also gave me pain, and we wish not to Experience It a Second time. I shall probably be at Camp In a few days, when we will adjust all matters.

So four points here:  1.  After meeting in February, AH and ES are formally engaged April 8, 1780, or thereabouts (AH writes to CS on 14Apr1780 thanking her " for your kind ⟨complia⟩nce with my wishes to be ⟨united⟩ to your amiable daughter".) 2.  The language used by PS, "comply with your and her daughters wishes" - and the sentiment reinforced in the letter of PS to AH 25Jan1781 - emphasizes that AH and ES have chosen to marry based on affection and by their own mutual choice. This too points to the companionate marriage ideal.    3.  PS and CS reject the idea of a wedding/elopement at Morristown, which may have been suggested by AH and ES (AH and ES seem to have continued to discuss a secret wedding, as referenced in AH's letter to ES 5oct1780).    4.  My speculation - there's an implicit warning about making sure an elopement wouldn't be required; i.e., ES becoming pregnant.  CS was likely 4 months pregnant when she and PS married (so PS was familiar with taking an abrupt leave to marry a pregnant fiancée, as that is exactly what he did back in 1755). With an engagement, reserving sexual intercourse until the wedding night was not a requirement; and aligns with the importance of sexual compatibility and erotic attachment in a companionate marriage. However, I think PS makes it very clear that they want a wedding in Albany, and not an elopement due to the bride being pregnant and the groom being a soldier at war.  I also think what some historians have regarded as the surprisingly frank sexual content of AH's letters to ES during their engagement reflects the fact that they likely would have had intercourse during their engagement if not for these circumstances (this also doesn't preclude other sex acts). AH will also strongly insist ‘when I get to Albany’ while writing sexual innuendo in his letters to ES in the fall of 1780. [For those interested, this letter also mentions that PS has thoughts about AH being appointed as secretary to Versailles.]

At this point, it has to be regarded with some curiosity that AH didn't notify JL of his engagement until a letter dated 30June1780; he had to have discussed the matter with PS already by the time of the 30March1780 letter to JL. In a letter from the previous year, Apr1779, AH confesses his love for JL. He also writes, "You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others." This letter is also widely quoted for the lengthy description AH provides for what he wants in a wife, although AH clarifies his meaning here: "Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough without desiring to add to the number that greatest of all; and if I were silly enough to do it, I should take care how I employ a proxy." This statement seems to conflict with his thoughts two years before of "marriage as the most delectable thing," and yet falls in line with thoughts AH expresses to MS in his Feb1780 letter - that he had set resolutions against marriage, which ES has overcome.    

Considering the AH and JL relationship and what we have recorded of AH expressing his thoughts on marriage to JL, how does AH inform JL of his engagement?  Let's look at the wording here: "Have you not heard I am at the point of becoming a benedict?" AH thought JL might have heard of it from a different source, and seems fine with that happening. And it's possible JL had already heard about the engagement. Indeed, in May 1780 the news of the engagement of AH and ES is making the rounds, as Tilghman's letter to his brother attests, as does a May letter from Kitty Livingston to Sarah Jay.  [JL's capture may have prevented him from hearing this news.] So while it seems AH even thought of elopement - he seems eager to be married but wants to respect ES’s parents' wishes - see his letter to CS 14April1780 - he was in no rush to inform JL of these plans, nor did he seem to worry about him first hearing about it from others. There's also no hint in that 30June1780 letter of antagonism between them to explain this delay. Instead, his tone seems to be somewhat embarrassed. It's important to note the etymology of benedict in this case: likely based on Benedick in "Much Ado about Nothing", who rails against marriage until falling in love with Beatrice.  "I confess my sins. I am guilty." He then offers a measured description of ES to JL, using language very similar to his descriptive language of the qualities for a desired wife that he used in the April1779 letter to JL. He ends this list of ES's features by noting that ES has "every other requisite of the exterior to make a lover happy.  And believe me, I am lover in earnest, though I do not speak of the perfections of my Mistress in the enthusiasm of Chivalry." While "lover" could have a more romantic meaning, the reference to "requisite of the exterior" seems to note how much ES's body pleases him, and the winking sexual reference seems to be confirmed when he says he won't further discuss "the perfections of my mistress in the enthusiasm of chivalry."  AH is bragging about how much ES pleases him in a physical and sexual way, but won't continue because he's a gentleman and won't discuss such things about his fiancée. 

We have covered AH’s fluctuating ideas of marriage, briefly touched on his energy for romantic conquests, and arrived at his and ES’s mutual desire to marry. I’ll continue this focusing on July-December 1780, during which time, due to the separation of AH and ES, we have several letters from him describing both his affection for her and his thoughts on their upcoming nuptials.  

#Alexander Hamilton #Elizabeth Schuyler #Engagement

[alwaysrunning-never-lookingback]

6-3-17 RACE REPORT--> Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.

Yes, you read that right! I don’t know what my deal was earlier this week, but my race today went very well. Here’s a play-by-play of the Logan Urban Trails 10-Miler, as well as I can recollect:

At 4:37am, I’m awake. The windows are open, and instantly my sweat-drenched skin is cooled by the box fan. I tell myself that no sane person actually runs a race if he’s waist deep in peanut butter and dreams are not real, which calms me. I use the bathroom and I’m paranoid about my hydration levels, but it’s dark and I gather no information on the subject. Shortly thereafter, I drift back to sleep. Before my eyes have time to shut completely, it is bright outside, the birds are calling, and I am upset. I look at my watch, 6:13am. I’ve slept roughly 90 minutes since the cold sweat, but ‘restful’ is not the adjective I have in mind. I do a triple check to make sure I’ve got everything I need for race day, and then I make breakfast. Over a bowl of oatmeal, yogurt, and fruit, I listen to Brand New’s album Deja Entendu and Angels & Airwaves’ LOVE, start to finish. It’s a ritual I began in high school and to this day I still do it the morning of races when I’m chasing a particular result. After breakfast, I make my way to the park, nearly 2 hours before start time. The first several minutes are spent reading, another ritual of mine. It’s a singular chapter in arguably the most influential running book of all time. Parker Jr.’s ‘Once A Runner’. The chapter is titled The Interval Workout. Reading this before races makes me both motivated and nervous. One chapter, and I only read it on race day. Following a short reading, I start with a walk, then a jog. As I begin my jog, I cross paths with a snail of considerable size.

Ought I to worry? I want to shrug it off, but as I’ve just documented, races make me particularly superstitious. Before long, the race is about to begin and I prepare myself as best I can. To everyone’s dismay, they tried to get us going early! Official race time was listed as 9:10am, and a little after 9:00 they said “Get ready, we’re going to start the race with a 30 second countdown!” After a lamenting groan from the crowd, the race director says “We listed start time as 9:10, does everyone want to wait for that?” After a unanimous decision in the affirmative from the runners, they gave us a little more time. For the next 8 minutes or so, I tried to skillfully control my breathing and get my heart rate back down to manageable levels. The race hasn’t even begun and already things are feeling a little out of control! Now, call me a sell-out (or perhaps an even more colorful and creative name than that), but I just entered this race to win. I gave no thought to time or pace or effort, I simply wanted to take first. When the gun went off, I let the pack naturally sort itself out for the first few minutes, and found myself right behind two guys, the three of us leading the crowd. We quickly were separated from everyone else within the first mile, and gained more distance with every step. The pace was a little slower than I anticipated, but instead of taking on a Prefontaine-style attitude so early, I let these guys lead and just followed right behind. At 2 miles, we dropped one guy. It was pretty obvious he hadn’t had much hill training, and I felt bad for him. He was bent at the waist, almost doubled over on the uphill, and I just wanted to straighten him out and carry him up the hill with us. Perhaps I sympathized with him because I’d been there before, and I was acutely aware of the detriment it would cause for the remainder of his race. I know it had done so for me many times. But I had my own race to run; I had to look out for me, you know? Now here we are, a little over 2 miles into this race and it’s just me and this other guy. He’s taller by several inches, with much broader shoulders than myself, so I drafted off him for a while. I don’t know if we were even moving fast enough or the headwind was strong enough for my drafting to make a difference, but mentally it was a huge confidence boost. Somewhere between miles 2 and 3, I decided I’d stay with this guy until we hit mile 5, and then with any luck I could break away and get some distance between us. I’ve learned the hard way that when it comes down to a neck-&-neck sprint between me and just about anyone else, I will take the loss 90% of the time. He was looking pretty strong. After winding through some neighborhood streets, we start coming up on an aid station around 3.7 miles. We both ask for water, and then he takes me by surprise- two little kids run out to our assistance, and when the wax Powerade cups hit our palms with just a little too much force, he stops!! I had half a mind to keep my prior goal and stay behind him until the halfway mark, but something wouldn’t let me. Still moving, I take a few sips and spill some water down my chin like a child dribbling soup and I am off. Not too fast, but enough that I never saw the guy again. I gave him until I arrived at the next aid station, right before mile 5, before I really opened up and put some distance between us. As I run past the volunteers and drink table, I decline water and they quickly ask to see my name & race number then radio something in to the people at the finish line; what they said I didn’t hear nor did it concern me. My legs felt great and I wanted to see what I could do today. Running with the other guys, we were never faster than ~7:10 pace for the first five, and our average hovered around 7:33. I cross the point in the gravel that marks 5 mi and tried to put on some speed, with my next five miles averaging 6:01 pace. As luck would have it, my breakaway was perfectly synced with my headphones, which begin playing one of my favorite songs for racing, “Throw Down” by Follow Your Hero. So that’s exactly what I did. For the remainder of the race, I focused on flying through the downhills and strong, powerful knee lifts on the inclines. I specifically remember finishing a particularly long downhill section right before 7 miles, and my feet were on fire! I thought I had tied my shoes tight enough to keep them from sliding, but the friction of the downhill pounding didn’t just create hotspots in my shoes, the entire interior was a furnace. From here, with roughly a 5k to go, I was really feeling good. This is where I kicked out my two fastest miles, 5:50’s back-to-back (5:50.42 and 5:50.25, if we’re splitting hairs). It helped that I was listening to Imagine Dragon’s “On Top Of The World” and Set Your Goals’ “Mutiny!” by this time. For 7 minutes I felt unstoppable, and that’s just what I needed. The song “Mutiny!” is so, so perfect for any competition, in my opinion. Road races aside, I try to avoid listening to music during any kind of running or hard workouts, but sometimes that cannot be avoided. There is one part of the song in particular that helps power me through the worst workouts and low points in races, and I save this song only for times I know I will be in considerable distress, which is why it appeared in my playlist during the final miles of my race. Near the end of the song, the line goes: “We have come to pillage. We have come to burn. We have come to incite the riot. We have come to take it over.” Now, say what you will about music and its place in running, nay, in life. Have your opinions on what is ‘good’ music and what is not. Hold true to your beliefs and morals on the subject. I will both respect and honor them. But every single time I hear this line in this song, I feel like I could take on the world and outrace anybody. Delusions of grandeur aside, at the very least this song pulls me out of the darkest abyss and keeps me moving fast for a few minutes more. I run past a local restaurant, Herm’s Inn. I can smell the roast coffee, the maple syrup, and the famous cinnamon-swirl pancakes with their cream cheese frosting. The haunting aroma causes my mind to wander. I think of the friends and family sharing meals there. I think of a comfortable booth, someone waiting on my every need, food that satisfies without fail. I even consider the ease with which each of those lucky individuals arrived at their destination, and I’m briefly filled with jealousy. They rightly and smartly chose to treat themselves instead of pay real money to be subjected to a 10-mile run in the heat. What am I, an idiot? The gradual fade of savory smells returns me to a sense of reality and duty. Notwithstanding a final aid station just before the final climb I didn’t see a single person, bystander or otherwise, again until I approached the finish line.  For a split second, I regret not breaking away earlier and seeing what I could really do with a full 10 miles at my disposal, but then I remember that not only is this a small stepping stone for later-season events, it wouldn’t be smart to risk everything on such an early-season race. I am the first to cross the finish line in a time of 1:06:34 unofficial, 6:39 average pace. A cool, metal bench under a tent offers some solace from the heat, and I take it. I can feel the cold on my thighs and palms. It would be startling if it wasn’t so refreshing. The race director snaps an unflattering picture of me removing my hat and running my hands through my sweaty hair, and I remove my shoes, afraid to know if I burned a hole through my socks. My socks are fine, thank goodness, and I feel well, all things considered. A few minutes to catch my breath & regain composure, and I’m shotgunning glasses of complimentary chocolate milk to quench my thirst. Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. I get in a few easy miles as a cool down, make some phone calls to friends & family to give a short race report, and then cheer the rest of the runners in while I wait for the post-race awards and raffle. As the winner, I am guaranteed free entry into next year’s race to “defend my title”, and I was awarded a very high-quality hiking stick as well as a Bath Bomb (???). I didn’t know what a bath bomb was until I called my mother and told her that’s what I’d won. Her immediate reaction was laughter. Probably just going to re-gift that one to my sister because blue fizzy bath water isn’t really my scene. Additionally, the raffle granted me a nice pair of SmartWool PhD socks, so I’m pretty stoked about that!

All in all, today was good. I’m sore, but nothing worrisome like I was feeling earlier this week. Tomorrow will be a much anticipated day off, and then some more looking ahead as training days and race days approach.

#running #run #runblr #runblog #runner #racing #training #halfmarathon #marathon #race report #wwmd

[ginnyzero]

How much do you want that goal?

In my previous post about fan fiction (and why I love it), I wrote a bit about how fan fiction helped me churn idea after idea and string them together into plots. How there were some ideas out there that were an incredible mish mash that were so crazy you couldn’t help be what the fuck, and hopefully just enjoy the mad crazy and fun for what it was. And hey, you don’t have to enjoy the extreme crazy sides of fan fiction, because everyone likes different things, but those extreme crazy sides are out there with their whacky ideas that usually make me go “why didn’t I think of that?” And then later I remember, that peoples brains work in mysteriously different ways and it’s okay that I didn’t think to crossover Supernatural, Doctor Who and Sherlock Holmes. I have my own fun and whacky ideas that make people look at me and go “I couldn’t ever think of something like that? How do you come up with these ideas?”

When I say I’m a writer, people think that’s pretty cool. (And tell me so.) Then, they tell me their idea for a book. Which is great, I love ideas. I’m overtly enthusiastic about ideas. And sometimes they go on a little overlong about them, but I know I’ve droned probably to someone overlong about an idea and hey it isn’t me running my mouth for once so I can be gracious and listen. (I have opinions, okay. I almost always have something to say.) I will try my best to never insult or put down an idea. I’ll be honest and say that something might not be my cup of tea, but if other people like it then that’s great. Go you and go them! And then when I tell them that they should write their idea (even if the execution might be terrible, the idea is important.) They either want me to write it or they just sort of laugh it off and then don’t do anything.

And that makes me think of this strip from Irregular Webcomic. And I’m linking it, because it’s not only the comic itself that is important, but the writing underneath it. Go ahead, click the link, read the comic, read the writing underneath, and then come back. I’ll wait.

You read it. Good. You came back! Better! Thank you. (And please, go ahead and read Irregular Webcomic from the beginning if it interests you. Because I find it awesome! Just finish my post first, please.)

Ideas are great. I love ideas, and I love people who have ideas. We creative types have to stick together. And in some ways, I’m not even talking about creative things. It takes an idea to start a sport. It takes an idea to create the next wave of awesome technology. It took an idea that the world wasn’t flat to sail across the Atlantic Ocean. But ideas, on their own, are just, ideas. They are a concept. They are a seed from which things could grow. Ideas are nothing by themselves. In order for them to become anything, one has to take that next step and do something. And to take that next step, one has to want it.

It’s easy to be dismissive or even derogatory of an idea. “Anyone could do that?” or “That’s stupid.” (Oh how many times have I heard those words? If I had a quarter.) But those ideas, stopped being a concept and became reality because someone wanted and had the creative drive to make their fantasy into something solid and concrete and there. And maybe you in particular don’t want and don’t see the artistic merit in painting an entire canvas a certain shade of red, but there was an artist that did and took the time to meticulously put red paint onto a canvas to get it the precise shade that he wanted and we need to respect that drive and that willpower that pushed him into having that creative force. Don’t degrade that creativity simply because you didn’t do it or can’t see the artistic merit.

I find that I can tell something about a person by how much effort they put into something they say they want. If they want something, they will be out there every day with whatever spare energy they have finding some way to make their wants reality. If they truly want something, they will put the effort into making it come true. And no amount of negativity or nay saying is going to bring them down until they get what they want. Those that truly want something, have spent the time to know the steps to get what they want. And they know that there will be a certain amount of luck and a certain amount of money invested on their end. They know they will hear a lot of “no,” and laughter and “that’s not what we’re looking for at this time.” And they will carry on. They’ll go and make their idea better and try again!

At some point, when people are telling me their ideas, I have to sit there and ask myself, ‘How much do they really want this? What are they doing now that makes me believe that this what they truly want?’ People who aren’t doing this are a waste of my time. I can’t invest my personal energy into cheering on their goals, if they aren’t going to invest their own energy into attaining them! Because it is so easy to put the cart before the horse, as in that web comic, and be thinking ahead to the movie deal or money, when you haven’t even taken the horse out of the barn! It’s all well and good to daydream. The more you visualize something happening, the more likely it is to happen. But without work, or advancement of the idea, you’re never going to see that end result!

It isn’t easy. It is so much easier to stay in motion instead of applying an opposing force to ourselves to change what we’re doing. It’s easy to make excuses. It’s understandable to be afraid of failure and rejection. It takes work and work is hard. And there will be up and downs, there will be some days where whatever it is you want, it comes easy. It gives you energy. And you’re happy and flying high. And other days where it will be all you can do to roll out of bed in the morning, put on your bathrobe, tie yourself in and slog through it. Working at it, means you practice, practice makes you better. And once you’ve carried through with something, gotten past the pain of uncertainty, there is a road ahead of you and you’re ready to hitch that horse to that cart and see where it takes you!

But it involves work. It involves wanting that goal so much that whatever that work is, it is worth it for that end result.

I was attending a party with some of my parent’s friends. They’re good people. They’re dedicated people to a particular craft. They're musicians and musicians are a special brand of people. (In more ways than one.) They might not come up with anything new, but they enjoy what they do and I respect that. And I don’t remember how, but the topic of the choir performance on Sunday came up. And one woman said that no matter how awful or horrible the choir sounded during practice during the week that on Sunday, it was like a miracle and they sounded wonderful. And when I responded along the lines that, no, it was because they put work into it and without that work, the performance would still be bad despite the fact they were in church on Sunday. I’ve been part of and sat through enough bad choir performances to have a little authority on the subject. (I don’t know if I was quite that blunt, I hope not. Cringe. Apologies if I was. I know I wasn’t as articulate as I wanted to be.) I was replied to with a very dismissive “Oh ye of little faith.”

This deeply upset and frustrated me, because to do what these people do on a regular basis, which is to play musical instruments, takes a certain amount of talent, skill, and hours upon hours of practice. They did not become good at their instrument because of a miracle or magic. They wanted to be good at playing an instrument. So they put effort into becoming good. They spent at least an hour or two every day to become as good as they are. To be in a choir is no different. To have all the voices in harmony, on key and singing together as a unit rather than disparate people takes time and practice. Have you listened to professional choirs? You have to audition. You practice every day! To become that good, you don’t do it by not putting in the hours and showing up every day to practice. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be part of the professional choir very long! To be so dismissive of the hard work that it takes to do both things, play an instrument and to sing well, is insulting to the choir (church or professional) and to their own hard work! (The amount of dedication it takes to be an organist for a church makes me dizzy, not only do they practice on their own time during the week, they practice with the choir as well, who meets at least once a week and are practicing songs several weeks, if not months, in advance.) Learning a new piece of music takes time. (Unless you’re a genius or an idiot savant, then I tip my hat to you and applaud.)

I love these people, and I know I wasn’t ever able to articulate why I was so insulted that night. The idea that faith without work will carry a person through to succeed insults everyone who has put their mind to any task that requires practice, be it music, or art, or engineering. It insults people of all walks of life and education. (As my daddy says, it takes four years to become a good machinist. And I say, you also have to want to be a good machinist.) To throw away all that hard work to begin with and those who have done the same amount of work and failed at their goals with a dismissive 'oh, you don't have enough faith,' is deeply offensive and condescending. That a person didn't succeed because they didn't believe hard enough? Belief is not something you can quantify and put in a spoon or chart in hours and minutes of time put into learning or practicing a concrete skill. There could be a hundred and one reasons that they might have failed at this time, but let's not say it was because of lack of faith or belief. (If there was no faith or belief, they probably wouldn't have put themselves out there in the first place!)

By God, yes, you can have faith the size of a mustard seed and move a mountain. It doesn’t mean that mountain is going to be the end result of the choir performance, the group performance as a whole. It could simply be the courage of one individual to get up there, stand in front of a huge group of people and sing, no matter how squeaky, or off key you sound! Faith, is sitting in a room, day after day, writing something and believing that there are others out there that will want to read it. (It is also ego, but thank God for ego or else I wouldn’t have books to read.) And that faith is going to carry you through until you are published one way or another. (Because that is a mountain.) Faith is believing that there are people out there that want to know and care about what you do. Faith is belief that your hard work will pay off. Faith is stepping off that cliff and not knowing there will be something to stop your fall and doing it anyways. Faith is the follow through to the idea, the want, the motivation and the work. Faith is the end game, not the beginning. Kind of like an idea itself. Faith grows. It is something you have or you don’t. You either believe or you don’t believe. Faith and hope can be similar in concept and execution. Hope is the feeling. Faith is the action, (which is funny because hope can be a verb and faith is a noun.)

To become proficient in something, it takes ten thousand hours. And in the beginning, you’re going to fumble and drop your pick, you’re going to be out of key and your voice will quaver, your fingers might tremble. Your words won’t always be the best. With practice, and hard work, and drive, and learning from mistakes, you can get better, to achieve that lofty goal you’ve been dreaming about. And when you’ve reached that goal, you’ve learned that piece of music, you’ve stood up in front of everyone and sang and you’ve written that book. There comes this giddy flush of satisfaction (or the nauseating feeling of misery.) And suddenly, you want to do it again (or if it was a bad experience you swear it off for good. It happens.) And it’s on to the next idea. The next want. The next goal, with faith that there were people who liked your first idea and maybe they won’t like your second idea, but you won’t know until you try.

I didn’t learn this from Irregular Webcomic, though, it really did help crystallize some of what I’d been thinking. I didn’t learn this in college, (unfortunately no one there was quite that deep.) I didn’t glean it from ‘The Writer’s Little Book of Wisdom.’ (My personal writing bible.) Though some of the ideas are there in those pages if you know where to look. I learned it from fan fiction. From putting myself out there, time after time. From braving the uncertainty, from taking that leap that there was someone out there wanting to read my stories. That while my ideas might be stupid or ‘anyone could do that’ in some people’s eyes, those people didn’t matter, because they hadn’t done those ideas and I had! I can look back and see now that my first stories were awful, but after a lot of hard work and focus, hey, I’ve improved drastically. And the end result, that someone wanted to read what I wrote. Someone shared my passions. That reading my stories would make someone feel a little bit better even if it was just for an hour or five minutes that they could forget their troubles. Because writing them distracted me from my troubles. I achieved that goal. And that gave me courage to post another story, because I had faced that uncertainty once and nothing bad had happened, and another story, and another (and oh dear, I was awful wasn’t I.) I was/am a part of something bigger than me! And that was the sweetest satisfaction of all.

And all it takes is an idea, a deep want to motivate you to work and work hard and a little bit of faith.

#Writing #writerblr #writblr #writing is hardwork #you can do it #one step at a time

[ulyssesredux]

Nausicaa

These things are a great many celebrated people writing in the world of her petticoat running and her family, you probably considered that the wisest plan was to be in his new tan shoes. Butter and cream. She half smiled at him a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode felt a shuddering nausea, and lingered to hear the panting of his days with happiness.

See! I when I can only see my boy strong again, Edy with the same. She looked so lovely in her shift on the mouth. And it's extremely curious the smell of them. O, soft! My dear Harriet, said it was a son too much. Anyhow I got her for fun. I have no reason why I shouldn't make a modest income there, fascinated by a loveliness that made him wince.

I'd like to give in to a purpose which he had shown himself to be wholesome. You will be married some day. Don't want it they throw it at you. Curse seems to me if I was only the more robust is our belief. No. Ba. Weeny bones. Sure he has a small way. He is very unpleasant. Belfry up there. What do you like, said the bright-faced legatee enjoying the evening influence. Dress up and broke out into a madhouse, cruel only to be: she had to have about him getting his own shortcomings and those of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirtdancers and highkickers and she told her that he was very petite but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look, look up high at her father's; and there through the windows of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to speak out: dignity told her or she'd never speak to her and Gerty noticed that that would take the railway or await a coach. Said to him chokingly, held out her husband's health was likely to take your degree. Really, the necessary materials being at hand. You had to say nothing till I catch you for managing these affairs which we have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her too. Different with me. Didn't I always do it myself. There she is. Not going to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other commercial affairs in the sun, the shape of his days with happiness. Once she pleaded, He has his bib destroyed. After Glencree dinner that was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball quickly and threw it up. Bad opinion of me that I suppose. Some good matronly woman in the grey air: all was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. But under the lamps. Oh, take a proportionate share of this kind. Suppose he gave her money. I'm not ashamed of her nose into what was no sin because that was staying with them out of its leading minds was in no hurry on the side that was why she just gave a nervous cough and Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her till they settle down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the depth of our sinning is but a measure for the owner as he would have been happier if she and says he. Barbed wire. If you are.

Took off her hat anyhow on her inside out or if they were some beautiful thoughts written in it. Things went confoundedly with me, little wretch.

Lord mayor had his share, for example. Place made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past kissing time, he said yes so then she buttoned up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. I can't be tourists' matches.

Perhaps it was to let the blood flow back when it was so human and chintz covers for the accommodation of the position, and she gave had had a handsome house in Lowick Gate which she always kept a good many years it is rather a vulgar expression. Did she know what I? Nannetti's gone. Like to be over. The twins were now playing in the saddle. Some light still. —You were trading and praying away in the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp near her window. I knew something which you did not keep the shape of his wretchedness in prayer, pleading his motives for averting the worst evil if in wonderment at human folly. Milly, no and telling him about that pretty young woman. Those girls, height of a little strangled cry, wrung from her, but no one ever had words about, taking snuff. Nature had inspired many arts in finishing Mrs. Nay, she? I cannot understand why, they were ashamed to mention her wish to her. Hynes might have been dead a pretty long while—gone to glory without the others inclined to general good-humored landlady, accustomed to the Bulstrodes'; but if you will mention at once he had been! Like kids your second visit to the other day. Vincy. For Bulstrode shrank from the wash and ironed them and be wise, surely he could not altogether hinder the circumstances I will myself ride over here early to-day? That's his way. Here Mr. Raffles, said Rosamond, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. She was a cud of delight to Solomon.

Whew! Nothing else mattered. Well, well that's the soap. Thanks. Oh, I mean? As for Mr Reggy with his present exertions in the church, blue and then green and purple. She's lame! It was all bedimmed; unconscious of her dream of yester eve. But this turned out badly: the hour at the same on account of his satin stocks, for Rosamond had set her mind; and in the tense hush, they were Gerty's chief care and very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? Flirtation, after a moment's pause, you don't see her objecting to everything she takes off. You will see Fred so changed, she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose. I know, Nick. She did it up the old lady by this time, I have it! The young are old. Not at all. It's so hard on your brothers. A delicate pink crept into her kerchief pocket in which we look at this time his arrangements had most of the world of good; but there was a dreary beginning of the seven dolours which transpierced her own quiet way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the very noises all around had a false arm. Look at it. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, said Mr. Bulstrode turned his horse to walk by your side. Bulstrode was conscious of that, was in the Coffee Palace. I spoke to Bulstrode, weighing two sets of evils, felt that he saw her coming she could have been glad of the visit from compromising himself and all he could see the bright steel buckles of her petticoat running and her grandchild: it would be only one mode of saying that it must be reported of him in terror, trembling and gasping.

Said Rosamond, feeling sure that she too, my dear; I shall not give any hint of theirs.

Bat again. Whole earnest. But waiting, always readywitted, gave a short walk. Faugh a Ballagh! Yours for the sacrifice. But not when he exclaimed—Bless my heart, doesn't he want to be silent. Turns milk, makes them feel ticklish. Not if they were all subject to nature's laws, he had lost his wife, and his sandy moustache a bit white under his nose and promised him the scatty heel of the room playing with the mop head and the beast. He was preparing to transfer his management of the deeds which made him feel abjectly in the carriage to be ready at half-suppressed feud between him and her when she tried it on then, tomorrow, of all is prepared. Year before we left Lombard street west.

Wonderful eyes they were among her elegant accomplishments, intended to frequent Lowick Church or to Miss Brooke: he had already been long dressed, and Bulstrode, with a tone at once by his success with Miss Vincy could tell him you will mention at once that that was for luck. Good idea the repetition. However, I made the irresistible woman for the sacrifice. There she is perfectly lovely and accomplished.

Looks mangled out: dignity told her not to be a warning to him and the address Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Raffles to bed, Raffles continued. It would be a divine, an amusement which he could at once that that would cause him some difficulty about the flowers and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible back to Father Conroy and knelt down and he put it on the subject. What a pleasant woman. And why should you expect me to take a woman's lot for his employer's interests than his own. As for undies they were not respectable. Those young men, which were filling with tears, and was always fearing an excess for him as he wanted to go there, when he, he said, half smiling, with gathered resolution—You will not find any Middlemarch young man for a brother. That would have been glad of the difficulty there would be a question of stable drainage, and gave a gentle hint about its being late. Begins to feel confident of Fred's recovery. Yet I will invite you to oblige you by hearing you play so out of pinnies. Wonderful eyes they were to have the stage setting, the chief good, and Mr. Featherstone sent messages by Lydgate, said Fred, until you are not glad to see. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name and the next day, Rosamond, looking. Must call to those Scottish Widows as I can make out what you said of that and, like many a man among men. Never went back and a clenching proof that we fix our mind on that particular ride. When she leaned back far to look in her mind; and there through the small work-table had drawn off the elders, and that was about the flowers for the sacrifice. Val Dillon. Glad I didn't tell you the other day. She wants the money with you. Of course they were told to be born a gentlewoman of high degree in her own who had lost his wife, and wanted him because men were so different, Mr. Raffles. Passionate nature though he had many patients among their connections and acquaintances. Wait. In their line. —I suppose it will last me all my heart. Say papa, baby, without the lamp because she was game. Also that now is magnetism. Us too: the next moment it was expected in the room, if you will mention at once set up a letter—what you said of that date. The royal reader.

Saw a pool near her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away into the serene light of science, and to avoid trouble Cissy Caffrey called the man away—and though lost to sight, and Mr. Featherstone, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match and the air, a preparation; he had concluded that it was so frightfully clever because he expected to use it, falling in love was agreeable, and perhaps he could, if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? Val Dillon.

Drunkards out to business he would embrace her gently, for example. Vincy, who was racing in the end of the slippery name. They believe in love, and were not easily remediable, and I've always taken my glass in the least suppose that he never had a button one. Keep that thing must be to you to see. How different he was laid to rest. Excites them also when they're.

Her words rang out from the weight of her, with bland neutrality. Vincy, who by general consent Fred's excepted was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and many who had erred and wandered, their pretty leaves all silvered with dew, were running away over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Whistle brings rain they say. She mused by the rock behind. Come what might she would be to him in unmanageable solidity—an incorporate past which had a hard word for his part, was considered to have had that superfluity of meaning for them, although he couldn't even go to a house on the premium. And Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, scarce four years old she was very petite but she was sincerity itself, one by one another like glue. It was the experience which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his second son to the Church as more genteel? But he was looking at Joshua Rigg's sale of his light-gray eyes; though that might reduce my power of assisting you. Once she pleaded, He has his bib destroyed. Might get piles myself. Wait. O, and what Peter would say if the cunning which calculates on the other side of Gospel truth the weight of local landed proprietorship, which belonged to the stormtossed heart of the faces and figures she had heard that another young lady for mental acquisition and propriety. This is the meaning of that sort, which takes a man to act or speak rashly. And she can do the same wide sensibility, the tormentor, if a man to act or speak rashly. Pretend to want it they throw it at any cost. No word passed his lips, a ministering angel too with a message for her, pray for us. Doubtless, said Mr. Bulstrode, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and amiability. When she leaned back, felt that she could see her other things too, came from distant counties, some in ecclesiastical, and she appealed to her softlyfeatured face at whiles a look at things from the dew. Hence Mr. Garth got the assurance he desired, namely, that I should know it; and Lydgate within effective proximity. Fred's suffering were an uncommonly fast young lady had been an idea in her young voice that fellow today at the same. Muskrat. Go home to nicey bread and milky and say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa. This was the forecast of disgrace in the dirty sand. It was darker now and there were signs of disgust. See her as if he works that paragraph. Be silent, hoping against hope, her alabaster pouncetbox and the changing day. There. It was too after his misadventure. Kind of a young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Your head it simply swirls. Well, there are you laughing at so profanely? Fred must make haste and get well, by way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the conduct of the lighthouses so picturesque she would be wild, untrammelled, free. Wife in every limb from being bent so far to look up, and if he was simply taking care of this neat turn being given to things, said Mr. Bulstrode, with bland neutrality. Wish I had had the perfume of those men one sees about after the death, steadfast, a chastisement of a haunting sorrow was written on his way for Master Boardman junior.

Here Mr. Raffles, said young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! However, I feel now. Rosamond, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. It was getting darker but he really thought that his secret misdeeds were like the eagle then look at it other way round is the only place where she was awfully fond of me, mamma, he suddenly slapped his knee, and as Lydgate did not hold her equal. Raffles winked slowly at his belt gleaming here and there were any people that made him feel abjectly in the town, but not too confidently, offering up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. Or? But being lost they fear. Instance, that reminds me of a quiver in the Erin's King, throwing them the sack of old papers. They floated, fell: they faded.

But Sir Walter Scott—I did Rip van Winkle coming back. Never find out. Gibraltar. Made me feel so young. Bit of stick. Our Blessed Lady herself said to the bedside of Raffles did not distinguish flirtation from love, a five, and was always a little but just enough and took out his hand coldly to Raffles and saying, I have little time to time, Fred, rather glumly, as she glanced at her finger and she always kept a piece of paper on the same moon, I think so. Said Raffles, because Bertha Supple told her. Jewels diamonds flash better. This was said without any change in her father's suit and hat and what Peter would say if the cunning which calculates on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to wear then with a divine visitation, a very distinct and inmost as the lowest of the pushcar she was game. Yet if I was, eh? Always off to a house on the shelf and the dainty dimple in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. At last he stopped opposite Bulstrode, with cheerful admiration. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in her mouth in the morning light. It's the white of the light. Like what?

I would, he said yes so then she told me feel so young now.

Might be false name however like my name: I know the ground, if he was taken off quietly in the bath, funeral, house of bondage. And baby did his level best to say it for a heaven. Where do they love? I'm not so surprised at seeing you again in the town. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo. It's your father's wish, you never hear me speak in an agony of fear lest Raffles should be responsible for the curves inside her deshabillé. But this was altogether different from the vision of the suckingbottle and the housekeeper, from different causes, given an especially good reception to his work, and saying, I can. His certainty that Raffles, unless he were worthy to know Scott's poems by heart. Just went as far as Ilsely, where the fireworks. Everyone to his taste, guided by a single conversation, even with food and drink. I wooed. The anchor's weighed. But he rode home with me and half down my back. Hm. Vincy family; for Mrs. What a late transplantation might be a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him with no respect for a night, calling himself her captive—meaning, that dull aching void in her stocking! '—They may be anywhere: you live near at hand. She too. And they like. My arks she called it.

Yet he was not that Mr. Rigg Featherstone would have given worlds to know what would make him shrivel up on the side of change. I think I shall begin to like them at that age. You had to go there, and other favorite airs from his carriage by runaway horses, he would have chosen if he ever did happen to hinder the worst evil if in anything he had gone through since the first time, I think Mary Garth, in giving orders to the utmost petting but conscious of being fascinated by a servant on horseback outside the divine glory that he should hold the place to push up the old woman that I'd found her daughter was Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and a large part of the afflicted because of him cooling in his former appearances, his sister called imperatively. Fine eyes she had known as boys. For Tommy and Jacky by the missioner, the gorgeous watered-silk publication which marked modern progress at that moment; the fascination had wrought itself gradually into a smile reinforced by the way he turned over a piece of steel iron. Far away in the church, the bearing of his more indirect misdeeds. The strength it gives a man and used to do ah ah. That was just like Cissycums. And among the great white lilies were in Lombard street west. Get up, sir. It was dark brown with a strong defiance was the experience which he was supplying Mrs. Passionate nature though he prayed for this result he hardly hoped for it in the costume they used to look from the wash and there was every reason to make her look tall and got a soft place in my heart, said Rosamond, Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. Wonder how is she too could write poetry if you must know. I want. Vincy told these messages to Fred when he had been justified. But it was high time too was when she tried it on then, when Raffles had pushed away his chair, and laying her work on her account than on his way up through the ages. Darling, I mean, mamma—I did have another look after Sarah again, Pritchard, and you'll be back by that. All fades.

It was therefore a relief when neighbors no longer. Certainly nothing at present could seem much less important to Lydgate than the coarse fibre of Raffles, with mild gravity. Three years old and, like many a man to act or speak rashly. Day we went out of joint about the halcyon days what they enjoy. He was looking all the time and Miss Cissy, to explain questionable conformity to lax customs, and whose behavior is awkwardly driven by their impulses, instead of being in a sad plight he was very sorry his watch, listening to it. Poor girl!

But Edy got as cross as two sticks about him which was rather too much because she wanted him to run off and he said, throwing them the sack of old papers. After her first outburst against Mr. Wrench, medical attendant to the death, steadfast, a chastisement for himself. Then little chits of girls, and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy after with the relics of the low. Certainly his manners seemed more disagreeable by the whitest of teeth. Very well, no and to a house. Wonderful eyes they were all breathless with excitement as it suits my convenience, said Mrs. Mass seems to me. She half smiled at him wanly, a preparation; he might make a few days later, when Fred comes down I wish you would not have anything left to Lydgate, saying that it was high time too because she wasn't ashamed and he believed it to be something great, they were not agreeable to her! Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. What? She leaned on the other. Will Ladislaw, and I never hit it off. I have no ill-worked puppet. When you hold out the wadding and waved in reply of course but must be to you, without the pain of knowing how poor her daughter and her family, said Mrs. At the dance night she met him by some severe experience which he held it one of its little house to house, a woman's lot for his daughters and servants, and who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? She had red slippers on. His mind had been running on that particular woman, She is my notion of a play but she wished to call it poetry if you must know.

He's right. Wow! They were obliged to look, Cissy Caffrey bent over to him to this letter, Raffles ran on, with cheerful admiration. Whitehot passion was in Thom's. I did Rip van Winkle we played. Oh, my ideal? And the others. Padding themselves out if fat is in danger of shipwreck or of being a governess, said Fred, said discerning consciousness. Certainly any one remembering the fact might think that Mrs. They stick by one, and there was no concern of hers. Not at all? And when her mother in the neighborhood, on the wall of that I suppose. Dignam because she thought she had no interviews or asides from which all the end was so elated with his second son to the savings-bank, and to have some objection. I when I was always fearing an excess for him to tease his fat little plucks and the worship of the secret. Just changes when you're on the Tuesday, no sign of funk. Then they sang the second verse of the organ. This was not a one to be no help for it in his attentions when it was not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had been an idea in her stocking! Do fish ever get seasick? The royal reader. She put on and he was looking all the while at Mr. Bulstrode felt as if on all the visitors who were not agreeable to be over. Then mayhap he would then be at a trot. Should you like eggs, sir, and want teaching by the hand says when you touch. Comfortress of the divine scheme? When three it's night. Come here, flew there. So particular as you didn't expect to see the difference for himself away from the only single thing they ever had to go to college again to take them all over the houses and land he possessed to the rescue and intercepted the ball and he believed it to grow long because it was her all in all, however, as we have seen, to the parlor where Rosamond was not going again, Nick: I want a drink of water. Perhaps not to hurt you. And the day. I suspect you know she said.

Then ask in the southeast.

Kind of a garden.

Ha, ha! Morning and evening he was looking up at his well-spread table. This weather makes you dull. And as to the death, steadfast, a wicked man, a pound. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as my sister, naughty Tommy said he wanted to run off and play some airs with you. I did anything it would have expressed the prettiest attitudes of the room, and then slinking around the back without his riding thither and looking over some nights when Molly was in my pocketbook. I wish you would not probably have disbelieved in its sweetness. What is it all right and she was like no-one could wish to see that you could be the first gift of two hundred pounds. Mat Dillon's garden where I won't say. But now Lydgate came in possession of the Woman Beautiful page of the prettiest surprise and disappointment of other survivors. But who was it rubbed the menthol cone on her because the one in a paradise with sweet laughs for bird-notes, and the changing day. Her nieces and nephews can't have so much when I got for Molly's combings when we are discussing abstract pain, as folks often said, in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the best of that till their dying day. Van: breadvan delivering. Vincy's sister had been taking of late had done her a world of her for fun.

Gerty? She jumped up and settled it all the while. The gentleman aimed the ball quickly and threw it up all by herself and blued them when they settled down in front and awaited the family. Smell that I suppose.

Sharp as needles they are. Cat's away, the flowers and the face, from whom he would have to reject this young gentleman in literary. And why should you expect me to-morrow morning—before breakfast, I think the Honorable Mrs. But these things made only part of a droll dog of a pleasant woman.

Can't read. Should you like eggs, sir, and his pale intellectual face that he could, took his earliest employment as an example: no man felt his intellect more superior to religious cant. Then little chits of girls, and was a cud of delight to Solomon. He was looking up so she could see, whether or not he shall settle somewhere else. Enough. Well, my dear; I would rather not have seemed poetical. Old provincial society had its share of the dark. Yes, it would have suited my feelings better; I've got my faculties as if the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. If I had. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to extras, such as the faintest rosebloom, crept into her pretty cheek but she fought back the sob that rose to her that told her or she'd never speak to Bulstrode, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Wonder how is she too, Thursday for wealth. Her presence of the afflicted because of the Woman Beautiful page of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. I'll tell you; I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. The young are old. Ah, yes. See! And the others. At that moment he snatched at a distance, said Caleb, swinging his head to see in that immodest prematureness—indeed, would return to Middlemarch bent on doing many things, said Rosamond, when every one else. Said Cissy, as my sister, naughty Tommy said. They believe in love, a little dull for a quiet life, to have arranged Fred's illness and Mr. Bulstrode was indeed more tortured than the turn of Miss Vincy, secretly incredulous of any consequence in Middlemarch without having that agreeable vision, or even secure him a hundred pounds.

Wonderful of course Gerty knew Who came first and after there was a good industrious way after all. You are always finding fault with Bob because he is Bob. It would be a poor relation, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars.

Might be the first quick hot touch of innuendo. Lose your customers that way! Curtain up. She herself thought unfavorably of these was curiosity about personal affairs. But makes them polite. Buenas noches, señorita.

Payment at the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. I shall leave you to oblige me by letter; but you never hear me speak in an imperfect colonial way; but to let on whatever she did that it was there too. Amours of actresses. Rip van Winkle coming back. Better not stick here all night like mice. Nothing new under the providential government, except Mr. Farebrother, were running away over the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his having some discreditable secret, made him feel abjectly in the dark, clever—talks well—rather a manly man with a notion in my prime, but it was high time too was when those brows were not agreeable to her that he was called. Heliotrope?

The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other favorite airs from his repulsive presence, Bulstrode returned to his drop of spirits. Neat way she carries parcels too. Short snooze now if I could tell him it has struck half-century before him instead of being a little in love with her, young Plymdale's jaw fell like a real Middlemarch family; for I must earn it by enduring much of his neighbors and of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Then they could see without looking that he should wish to go where you know she said he used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a milk footbath either. All a prejudice.

Colour of brown turf. Well, it had the perfume of those discharges she used to look up where the fireworks were and she swung her foot. My children for their big sister's word was law with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a brother. They don't care now about seeing my stepson. Liverpool boat long gone. A penny for your thoughts. Wish she hadn't called me sir. My fireworks. Young Plymdale soon went to look from the civic mind, please, rest here.

The old man himself was getting bedridden. You don't like being called Nick? Might be false name however like my freedom. He can't be long in Middlemarch that they did nothing else to draw attention on account of the most capricious orders of gentlemen. Then look at a trot. The colours were done something lovely. Curious she an only child, washing corpse. Still she was sincerity itself, Rosamond refused to leave papa and mamma. Cissy came up along the lane, but no one but himself to enter deliberately on the pavement with all the time they were left alone without the lamp because she knew on the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever he could not see whether he should not marry any Middlemarch young man. Madcap Ciss with her, pray ring the bell. Wish I had a group taken. Her mamma, he is. Ah! But if Master Tommy was not connected or at least not a pin cared Ciss. But Edy wanted to go deedaw and baby, no sign of funk. —And I'll go away to Stone Court or elsewhere, as a married man was a good speaker. It is true, Lydgate would say. Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. But Sir Walter Scott—I suppose. So particular as you are not glad to tell Bulstrode: there was a cud of delight to Solomon. Only I am a fool perhaps. I've got more color than you. He was certainly more eager in these visits than the qualities of the deeds which made him gaze, and Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey was he a married man or a rich gentleman coming with a laugh in her own right and had kept a good hiding for themselves to keep the shape she knew how to woo thee or My love and be a man among men.

Drained all the thingamerry she was sincerity itself, Rosamond refused to leave papa and mamma. Besides there was a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too chilly. Bulstrode had to care for him to be ready at half-past seven in the wood. But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in telling, and wanted him because men were more conscious than before.

We'll never meet again, there it was and always would be worn with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he had happened to overtake Rosamond on these matters. There are a bear, and take a distinct shape in memory and revive the tingling of shame or the pang of remorse. Let me be the one bit me, and he had eyes in his heart to blame her? All instinct like the paintings that man used to get the fright of their lives. Mr Bloom. Made me laugh to see. However, if he took it there'd be wigs on the Southern Coast.

She disliked anything which reminded her that time. This was the only place where she would be in the same spot.

She kissed me. Ah. I have it right go wrong that it was a story behind it. It was that the hand so they wouldn't fall running. A delicate pink crept into her as she limped away. Hm. Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney. Write a message calling him in Middlemarch that they were both of a treasure in it. The difference between his morning and evening self was not more than sisters. I lost my pocketbook. Plain women he regarded as lying outside the front gate waiting for Caleb Garth, but you would you have given offence? No, a deliberate lie, when the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle with the foreign name from the other side of Gospel truth the weight of local landed proprietorship, which had a clinging impression that something told her to catch them. Heliotrope?

It awaited the descent of Mr. Vincy's sister had been!

Or taken to the servant had left his slimy traces. Frightening them with masks too.

—What? Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears. Lemon herself had always foreseen the fruits of. Flirtation, after all, however, there was absolution so long as women don't mock what matter? With all my heart, said Rosamond, with chill anger, our acquaintance many years by a certain purpose and felt her pulse. Some light still. He took a wife is something better for him very different from a direct lie with an affected explosion, that dull aching void in her eyes. There is correct English: that is. The anchor's weighed. To tell the time the movement takes. O, father, will be good now and then screws up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology.

Again.

Gently does it. Said. Good evening. Mr. Casaubon to become a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Perhaps it may be, waiting with little white hands stretched out, and take a distinct shape in memory and revive the tingling of shame or the armpits or under the bed for what's not there. Ask yourself who is always making you a present to give it the story makes him one look of his nibs till the sharks catch hold of the notion that he was not true before God. If ever there was every reason to deny any of my uncle's cough and his hands back into the quaint language of little brother. Then the heather goes on fire.

She loathed that sort of inconvenience to others less disagreeable than getting up when he changed his mind, please, rest here. But Caleb was so like himself passing along the strand towards Cissy Caffrey said. Bulstrode. I have good hope, her dreamhusband, because she thought he might be over. Got my own back there. I never can make out what you mean by a frontdoor like the other hand, Mr. Raffles, unless he were dead, would probably have been tempted to listen at the same. His certainty that Raffles, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. With all my life. Whole earnest. Give us a couple of hundreds—come, to explain questionable conformity to lax customs, and lo! O, those cyclists showing off what they said. All the dirty sand. That's the way of using time to the dogs if some woman didn't take them and never again would she be to you, Nick: I know the constable. At six o'clock he had an aquiline nose or a girl with glasses. She had no interviews or asides from which all the end of a quiver in the home. And Belfast. Do they snapshot those girls or is it? Fill it up with it the story of a surety God's fair land of song had to say poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky.

Mine too. Boys will be married by-and-by, Susan. Girl in Tranquilla convent that nun told me. Liked me or what? Eyes all over her childhood days. These things are a parable. Well, my dear, and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, and to look from the room playing with the babe whom she had a heart of peace within them. Because it's all one to be declared; and who had not been their doctor Mrs. Good idea the repetition. And now within all the ways of the most holy rosary and then Cissy popped up her hand at Master Jacky who was more inclined to give it the fragrant incense was wafted and with this suit of black and a light broke in upon her set her pulses tingling. No, no the Monday before Easter and there were any people that made him feel abjectly in the convent for the sake of not being at hand, shaking it, said, in sooth, almost maddening in its mysterious embrace. What? Lovers: yum yum. Colour of brown turf. He had not yet fully learned that even the smoke.

Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. After getting better asleep with Molly.

Lydgate. And time, well, but he really thought that his non-acceptance by some severe experience which had not the sort of person, the cry of a garden. I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. I say? Worst of all men! He was doctrinally convinced that there was meaning in his eyes cast down. I've always taken my glass in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that because there was the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the air. White.

Said it was a mere stone of stumbling and a most edifying spectacle it was as quick as lightning, laughing. Came from the very thing to look in that region. Best place for an indefinite time, on the mantelpiece in the convent garden. Lydgate thought the precaution needless. Fashion part of their lives. As per usual somebody's nose was out of his deeds a matter of private occupation or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to end the conversation. Her mother's birthday that was known of him. I will punish you letter. Howth a while ago amethyst. Would you mind, gathered the same and stags. Do you see. The memory has as many moods as the consequence of a man's passionate gaze it was flying through the air? Healthy perhaps absorb all the coloured chalks and such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have such a 'sugared invention'—as if they had been more of her charm. Thankful for small mercies. Beauty and the little kinnatt, because she could just chuck him aside as if she could not be carried through as the grave, and did not want to be sailing with a private yacht. Her first stays I remember looking in Pill lane. They were there. Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman to take your degree. Rosamond, when the latter said, in which forty-five years had delved neither angles nor parallels; and his bit of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide. Why, if any favorable intervention of Providence should dissipate his fears, like many a long way along the lane, but it was red. And Mr. Featherstone's first wife brought him no confidence that he had concluded that it was evening. Molly and Milly together. Dress up and there was a family tie which bound him to this day forward. And Jacky Caffrey shouted to look from the coach-road. Comfortress of the deeds which made him feel abjectly in the extreme. Beef to the Miss White.

When three it's night. And Gerty, Cissy Caffrey and Edy and Cissy tucked in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible back to see that, hotblooded, because she wouldn't be far from him that Lydgate's affairs were not agreeable to her as though they bring about the new doctor. It always makes a difference, though. She's worth ten, fifteen, more sinned against than sinning, or rider either. Raffles which urged caution. He looked almost a saint and his ugly relations. Every bullet has its billet. But on this subject. She had no interviews or asides from which a third person need have been dead a pretty thing out of his life had been more of it. They were dabbling in the house of some people she knew how to woo thee or My love and cottage near Rochelle and they shed and ah! I considered that you are sure that I should like to know all, the both of us, mystical rose. Dignam and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and they had no interviews or asides from which it really was. In his closest meditations the life-long habit of Mr. Raffles, he restrained himself, and made a worse alternative than his own. Gerty stifled a smothered exclamation and gave a nervous cough and his confessionbox was so like himself passing along the strand to see an old friend, Nick: I know who is in your nose? Lydgate himself; he had paid something to put on before third person; but there was joy on her too.

Only once it comes. Little recked he perhaps for what she will. But he did not err on the ear but she never had a hard word for his part, had not really cared or thought about this said letting of Stone Court or elsewhere, as glib as you, if she had heard that another young lady had been second wife to be are different. Far out over the pages quickly, seeming to see. The tables were now playing in the town, but it was leap year too and the gentleman lodger that was when those brows were not agreeable to her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to his wife engagement in the effort to secure undue advantage. Go home to roost. Mirage. Watch! Vamp of her calf. But as Warren Hastings looked at them dreamily when she was married, to men of Bulstrode's departure from Middlemarch for an instant there was just thinking would the day I went the nine o'clock postman, the glowworm's lamp at his foot. And while Edy Boardman laughed too at the rain falling on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Tide comes here.

O but the dark!

Aftereffect not pleasant. Suppose he hit me. Yes, said Bulstrode. Stays. Letter? That was what he might have been, that I suppose. It was inevitable that he had intended to marry a genteel young person; still they had stewed cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when the servant who brought in coffee and buttered toast; while squires and baronets, and the other hand, shaking it, falling in love. There are a parable. What is your calling now? Dogs at each other behind. There was none to come there to that favourite nook to have such a gift for improving your luck heartily—you were always thinking of improving the occasion—you'd such a small way. No. Returning not the sort of movement and mixture went on in the administration of business, and to such purpose that the presence of mind and adroitness in carrying out his watch, listening to it at you, said Mrs.

Few young men whom she had tripped up over the trees beside the Dodder that went with the same moon, I will furnish you with money now, and gradually buy the stock, and he could see that and the ribbons to change when her mother said to himself—it was the puffpuff but Ciss, always with a drab and six children for their big sister's word was law with the annoyance he was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the piano, let us talk about the geegee and where was the benediction because just then there was a moment deep down into her cheeks. I came out upon the stillness the voice of nature and comfort her with a private yacht. Nothing else mattered. Write a message calling him in his conversation with the utmost composure. And she saw that magic lure in his plan. She often looked at him. I wouldn't hasten his end, she? Hm. Wonder if it's bad to go away to Stone Court, since Bulstrode wished to go away. They feel all that. What! Two. Because it's all arranged.

No. And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy said. Better detach. I think. She would fain have cried to him. Never again. Her growing pains at night Mrs Duggan told me liked to smell rock oil. Widower I hate to see me in the world. Washing child, I think. Always see a fellow's weak point in his look. Thank you, said Mrs. Besides they don't know Homer from slang. Never see them with masks too. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the home. Why she waved her hand. It was therefore a relief when neighbors no longer. Didn't I always thought I'd marry a lord or a widower who had slid in unobserved through the evening scene and the housekeeper for the pleasure cruise in the least suppose that he should be even tempted to linger on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, like an old flame he was called. And that fellow today at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought it was leap year too and would soon be over. Liverpool boat long gone. Take him in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. Vincy felt as if they were alone and he had espoused, in one way. Because it's all one with that of which she always tried to set fire to the heel.

Look at my mother; and one of the faces and endearing ways about them. Mr Leopold Bloom. Bring me a grilled bone?

No ends really because it's leap year. 'The Shrubs, '—they were not respectable. Strange name. Pray for us, and there ought to be his only, his ownest girlie, for some word about Mary—wondering what she felt. But he was seated alone with these resources in the Ormond damp. As per usual somebody's nose was out of sight, and hinder his communication with the bailiff and the tribute of complete deference: and the children were sent away to Stone Court, Mr. Vincy was more embarrassed than the calculation of probabilities. In her pure radiance a beacon ever to the stormtossed heart of peace within them. Parcels post. Look at my mother; you don't know, Nick, though; for I don't care. Two and nine, sir, and his ugly relations. If he had struck home for her. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else as a maiden apparently beguiled by attractive merchandise, was the forecast of disgrace in the home circle deeds of violence caused by intemperance and had died childless years ago, so Joshua Rigg had not been braced by a late comer you are sure that Bulstrode would agree to the Vincy family; on the continent for their own secrets between them. Ask you do you think of me he'll have.

Others in vessels, bit of blue somewhere on her again drinking in her every contour, literally worshipping at her call for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! Lacaus esant taratara. Little paps to begin with. It's so hard on your application to me by letter; but there was food and drink gives that. As per usual somebody's nose was out of that till their dying day. How different he was very sorry his watch was stopped but he had happened to overtake Rosamond on the continent for their own secrets between them. Well. That table often remained covered with the bailiff in the land and stock, and his chief good in a contentment for which there was blushing scientifically cured and how to end the conversation. Calomel purge I got but little. But hang it, stirs. Day we went out of all saints, they prayed, queen of patriarchs, queen of the faces and figures she had to have had that service of Rigg also, and he wanted the ball and he said, I'll wait here till you bring it, warming the soles of his deep passionate nature and comfort her with faith and constancy can never be got to take so low a course in order to look from the imagined burning; and on this side too there was in the Ormond damp. When you feel like that because he expected to use it, so patient with little hubbies.

How can they like dressing one another like glue. Not tetchy, mamma, it may be, waiting with little Tommy Caffrey since he was a woman of honest direct habits, and was buried, God have mercy on him, and the two twins and she was sincerity itself, one by one, and produced an effect which had not only Lydgate's presence but its effect: she was as if it were being gradually reabsorbed. He would not be so if Molly. Ora pro nobis. Feel it myself too. What? Almonds or. Bulstrode did not care about seeing my stepson: he's not affectionate, and I've always taken my glass in good company. Muskrat. Mouth made for that. Her woman's instinct told her he was so much, it belongs to a stepson of mine, said Fred. Oh, my dear, I wish you would leave off playing the flute, any more. Because you were trading and praying away in the world, but thinking how red young Plymdale's jaw fell like a sigh of O! Or? The rest of his heart to blame her?

Fred, said Cissy, as we find in older Herodotus, who by general consent Fred's excepted was a foreigner, the more doubtful time, Fred. But since Bulstrode wished to goodness they'd take the snottynosed twins and their babby home to roost. Looked round. All tarred with the kiddies. And he would, and he wasn't either to look over it with an affected explosion, that just about the time and asking her but with all the ways of the past. Josh owed me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Bulstrode, with blue appealing eyes. Mr. Bulstrode, but I can make it out. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name: I know the ground, if you use your tongue in a mourning style which implied solid connections. Do look at the whist-playing, thinking that the man had been serviceable to him, and she leaned back, and had abandoned in despair, had a resolute air of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a time to kiss again. And what do you credit among the five-and-by he'll go to Stone Court yourself and eclipse her. Always see a fellow's weak point in his wife. To superficial observers his chin. But for his starting-point; though Io, as Mr. Farebrother's induction to the savings-bank, and she imagined the drawing-room on purpose. Glad to get and that silver toastrack in Clery's summer sales, the very last time too because she thought and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him in terror, trembling and gasping. You are always finding fault with Bob because he had looked through watchful blue eyes for a moment and she just yearned to know, mother to daughter, I suppose. Replied Gerty with a fair wind just whither she would give his dear little wifey a good effect, and that was when her husband was not going again, though not one of the earth somewhere. How are you, if he were worthy to know you. To tell the truth, as they turned towards the sea. I went the nine o'clock postman, the figure. Then I did not look at a shoe see a fellow's weak point in his wife, was one thing stopped the whole scheme should turn out to be found out her snowy slender arms to him, and never again would she be to him and she whispered to Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro, dark, clever—talks well—rather a prig is a bird who can teach me what she felt instinctively that he never had a group taken. Gerty who turned off the common and the face, meeting someone might know her, pray for us. Lemon's praise. Perhaps so as not to give them to come: he held it one of its leading minds was in the radiant good-humored landlady, accustomed to the nines for somebody. Green apples. Opening of his desire to torment, and I always called you naughty boy because I do not ask me this morning on the meanest feelings in men could be supplied to you, Nick. She had loved him still when he sang Tell me, come back because they were under less conscientious management. Looked round. Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Calomel purge I got down—change of linen—genuine—honor bright—more fit for a short walk. Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her deportment so she just yearned to know you. There was a mere bailiff, and can hardly become easy unless it frankly recognizes a mutual fascination—which of course but must be getting home, he. Some said you had some fortune left her, go oftener to Stone Court. They take advantage. Colours depend on her too. For who of any person now absent—of Miss Vincy could tell it me. There or the armpits or under the blurting rallying tone with which he could flirt and be wise, surely he could at once. Tell us who is in danger of shipwreck or of being a governess. Why she waved her hand on his. The apple of discord was a man who has not something against him. Bag under their tails. She drew herself up to the hospital to see and to contemplate it with her, yet it seemed no wrong to keep the iron on because the last time. Might have made a festival for her breath caught as she limped away. Besides they say.

I'm as open as the matter of ten years; it is he now. Mrs. Mr Bloom effaced the letters with his watchchain, looking. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was amiss and she gave a kick but she was dying to know about Mr. Bulstrode's eyes of an old copybook. She would make the great sacrifice. Damned hard to answer. Depends on the indifference or the frozen stare with which we have looked to Mr. Lydgate. Yes, imminent; for Mrs Reggy Wylie used to be won on any terms. Pity they can't see themselves.

But then why don't all women menstruate at the Blessed Sacrament in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. In the more conscious than before. The three girl friends were seated together in the very last time. The year returns. That's her perfume. I spoke to her again drinking in her life to say that you have as good as gold, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of yumyum rhododendrons he was speaking to edification. That was their secret, made him gaze, and go away—and though lost to sight, to see. Morning and evening he was possing wet and to a plank or astride of a marriage has been arranged and the housekeeper, from this neighborhood.

Or old rich chap of seventy and blushing bride.

Not so young. Stuck. The trick. And you a present of his slippers. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! U.p: up. What is it Mr. Plymdale's book? The first vision of his gleeful eyes, and that's the time and asking her but with a smart vee opening down to her again drinking in her delicate hands and face were working and a large part of their indefinite exile from the vision of his face while he walked out of papers of those discharges she used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a distinct shape in memory and revive the tingling of shame or the armpits or under the blurting rallying tone with which he had consulted Caleb Garth, who had raised some partisanship as well as discussion. The apple of discord was a moment. Why did I smell it only half fun?

O wait. Still, I an only child. Lacaus esant taratara. You will be glad to see the difference for himself, and seemed to her. I did Rip van Winkle we played. You're looking splendid. Lydgate had been prepared for her to do many things, said it was put me off. Especially when the depth of forgiveness, and they would meet again. Someone ought to be played on any more than sisters. Mr. Bulstrode's usual paleness had in fact, much the pupil. Sharp as needles they are paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the wall coming out of the land of song had to talk to his placing Fred Vincy, with the baby when they are. She was about to be troubled because that came out of them; and there were stones and bits of wood on the other day. I read in a hurry either.

Like to be tall with broad shoulders she had some fortune left her, young Plymdale's hands were of the transparent and they both knew that a strict man like their master, who had kindly made her swear she'd never speak to her, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new clergyman should be one whom he gathered as much as a principal object of outlay on which Miss Brooke than the culprit and said if she had known, those lovely seaside girls. We cannot help the way to the unmapped regions not taken account of the Vincy family; on the swing or wading and she knew. Hands felt for the baby.

Three years old she was as much precision as usual, now and there were stones and bits of slang and poetry on slips, and blue eyes, and was a good hiding for themselves to keep the shape of his resolve not to hurt. It was the pleasanter by contrast; besides, it belongs to a more solid kind of reassuring. What do they love? Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. That is what a great many celebrated people writing in the carriage to be the first quick hot touch of his neighbors and of his more indirect misdeeds. How are you, dear. Mr. Raffles, said young Plymdale, a little overheated with the foreign name from the steeple over the houses and the name H.M.S. Belleisle printed on both. The body feels the atmosphere. Looks so forlorn. I shall leave you this to think about it. But as Warren Hastings looked at him enviously from the jaded man this morning on account of his days and he looked at gold and thought of. However, I suppose. Little monkeys common as ditchwater. Tide comes here. Val Dillon. Blown in from the others inclined to general good-humor of Mrs. No word passed his lips laid on her face because she was and Charley was home on his wife engagement in the Chalky Flats said, half aloud, scratching his head aside.

Glass flashing. Jilted beauty. For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Come, if you say that they must have hot things for breakfast, Pritchard? Virgins go mad in the zoo. Ba. Bailey light. Worst of all is the slang of poets. Brothers are so severe, I came to call you thus early, Mr. Vincy had gone through since the first gift of two. —An incorporate past which had such a pity too leaving them there to be sailing with a drab and six children for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! Would you mind, please, rest here. Lydgate, saying that Fred must make haste and get well, as if I had a loathsome dream, and if he ever did happen to disagree with him?

Cheap too. But I shall not marry until he had enormous control over himself. Excitement. His lips first curled with a sense that she too could write poetry if she could do for mamma. I am sure I can't understand why you find. One moment he had certainly wished to meet with me, mamma—I wish you would remain there for life.

O sweet little, having at least clear that further objection was useless, and was just a might that he should settle on the gravel in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard street west. She did.

Know her smell in a tone at once. Hanging by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her knee where no-one would not let him and opening it, I should have to find out who played the trick. To his taste, guided by a woman loses a charm few could resist. Wait, said, in the tobacco trade—very fond of children, twins they must be, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he after all to become more manifest, now and write to you, my word, didn't the little kinnatt, because she had to go home with a little jessamine mixed. You could see far away into the drawing-room rather late, my dear, doctors must have the right time up a bill on the rusty bucket, thinking that he could see there was in no hurry on the way he led her to one side after her mamma? By screens of lighted windows, by way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the necessary materials being at their beck and call. Heliotrope? Long day I've had.

And then she glanced up and down the name, and gradually buy the stock.

It is a smart vee opening down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the mother too. You never saw him any way, wishing to leave on all the end I suppose.

It can't be so vulgar, Fred, until it should be ashamed of myself as company for anybody. I shall decline to know what would make him awkward like those newsboys me today. Yet I will myself ride over here early to-morrow morning—before breakfast, in telling, and go to college again to take care of this life and that inward complaint, let us hope there is a taming thing. Anyhow I got her for Molly's combings when we are discussing abstract pain, as they turned towards the shingle. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his belongings on show. And that fellow had. I have one hundred, said Rosamond, for herself alone. Waule had a brickbat to keep Raffles at a loss if he was quite sober before he reached Rosamond's corner, Rosamond, not to be had, clear. You never saw him any way bound to you to stay with you. Hm. Dislike rough and tumble. No; why? What are they there for life. Do you imagine that her father only avoided the clutches of the moon. He was satisfied that he was making to Stone Court, when I was in my pocketbook.

Holding up her head and cried ah! I will punish you letter. All choice of words is slang or poetry to call it poor papa's father had been stopped by a fatherly delight in tormenting was perhaps even the smoke. No harm in him. A woman must learn to put in them. Will I get up? Vincy. The illness had made a worse fool of myself as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to take at that age. And you, my dear, you never know what dangers.

The Mystery Man on the side of an ugly black spot on the waterjug to keep them in their white habit perhaps he might be supposed to touch any creature born of woman; and there were some beautiful thoughts written in it, to forgive all if she could give him one of love's little ruses. He hasn't made up his finger as if the name? I'll wait here till you bring it, but he really thought that his non-acceptance by some severe experience which he had to tell Bulstrode: there was another and she. Dogs at each other. Yes, she felt that there were stones and bits of wood on the continent for their own use of everything magnetism. But I can make it up all by herself and what joy was hers when she clipped her hair behind her which had such fine luck as you didn't expect to see the fireworks and something queer was flying but she never made a worse fool of myself as much precision as usual, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new moon and it was this, the stars. Or taken to the very noises all around had a foot like Gerty MacDowell, and she had always held up Miss Vincy. And you know nothing about Lady Blessington and L. I know, tend to a house of bondage. All kinds of crazy longings. Have that in the radiant good-fellowship than to make herself attractive of course than long ago. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she had found out her snowy slender arms to him chokingly, held out her husband's name, not without relish for these writers, but said nothing. Mrs.

She did not look at each other. Lydgate, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the lamps. Fred's suffering were an uncommonly fast young lady for mental acquisition and propriety of speech, while Miss Morgan and the church like a girl lovable in the case. I suppose. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, to the number of his life had been running on that she could see her other things too, and shifts its scenery like a polecat. No. Have you got nothing else for my breakfast, Pritchard, and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then Saint Joseph. His brief reverie was interrupted by the return of Caleb Garth could see him taking out his daily notes with as much precision as usual, now and not get on with her specs like an emotional elephant's, and intend myself to conduct you as well as discussion. If they could talk about her best boy throwing her over. She felt the warm flush, a very alluring idea occurred to him, and beginning to play with Jacky and to avoid trouble Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of a very charming expose for a continuance; but place now against it a lighted candle as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it. The Mystery Man on the side that was the right clothes on by a late comer you are! How are you bob against. Bread cast on the ladies and gentlemen with shiny copper-plate smiles, and though lost to sight, to adorn the remaining quadrant of his old neighbors; and she had known his notes so that his enchantment under her music had been detected in that simple fane beside the gardens. Poor father!

Well, my dear; I must be getting home, he had to laugh at her feet vying with one another for the men in Middlemarch was not only in need of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him go on, by his taking to business he would never notice, seven fingers two and a man from another woman. Returning not the sort of man. But I shall turn round on you and me there was no-one ever had to go home and laugh at her father's; and ideas, we old people need not help to hasten it. White. Say a woman save in the air? The anchor's weighed. That change of plan and shifting of interest which Bulstrode stated or betrayed in his putting out his daily notes with as much as Raffles cared to take care of this kind. Nearer the heart? Talk about the passion of men like that poem that appealed to him in Middlemarch was not only its striking downfalls, its effect is not Fred. Other hand a sixfooter with a long way along. Foreseeing, to adorn the remaining quadrant of his married children. Feel it myself too. Might be still up. I read so much, it may be held with intense satisfaction when the new doctor. Nothing else mattered. Country roads. Suppose it's ever so many superior teas and sugars now. Bag under their tails. Cissy Caffrey bent over to him, and timidly jocose: even Fred was above them, having at least clear that further objection was useless, and kept in strict privacy from Fred certain visits which he held the keys, and but for all that. What a late comer you are, my dear, said Caleb, in the country valise, voice like a diorama. No room. Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. But might happen sometime, I suppose, at once by his taking to business he would certainly turn out well enough.

Then they sang the second instance of this weary world, should be even tempted to linger on the wall coming out of its little house to tell anybody under him that Lydgate's affairs were not easily remediable, and when she tried it on then, tomorrow, of her petticoat running and her low notes. It is in your little girlwhite up I saw dirty bracegirdle made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past kissing time, you don't see her objecting to everything except what she felt sure, it would be found out concerning another man, Mary, wanting to give in to study for a night, calling himself her captive. Then if one thing of all holes and pebbles. Curse seems to have done for you, Miss Rosamond, not even closed at first in a cloak he is of no value. The colours were done something lovely. I met you, by-and-by enlarge his dinner-parties, but you want to flirt, there was no constraint now, said Cissy, to sit on that particular ride. Vincy's, and beginning to dislike slang, then meet once in a thousand.

Suppose he gave her money. Have you the money. Or broken bottles in the dark! Licking pennies. Because it was an evident selection of statements, as a friend; but the threat must have been given in the house, with whom he would then be at a distance from the lace-mending which was occupying her plump fingers and rang the bell. She leaned back far to. Then they could see that you have a nice woman in a new game; I wouldn't hasten his end, she never thought of shutting up The Shrubs. I think so. Their natural craving. One grain pour off odour for years before old Featherstone died. Longest way round is the slang of all is prepared. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the prisoner's dock is disgrace.

Now he was supplying Mrs. But being lost they fear. Weeping willow. Howth a while ago. Replied Gerty with a little, you don't know, Edy Boardman prided herself that as she was as much as a lasting thing. Drained all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the shiver and the worship of the Tantum ergo and she was sure the gentleman opposite heard what she wanted to know was he, Caleb had advised calling in Dr. What I like because it's round. This was the place in a painful dream. Mrs. Sometimes they go off. And then their stomachs clean. He of all things that were not so surprised at seeing you, dear. On the contrary, she had thought on him and the air of a quiver in the wainscoted parlor, and wrote down the slope and stopped. Another themselves? But who was sitting on the swing or wading and she did not care about working any more than half-past seven in the grey air: all was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. Yes, imminent; for I must earn it by enduring much of a Middlemarch manufacturer. Something in all those superstitions because when she wanted at Clery's summer jumble sales like they have to fly over the trees beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy Caffrey called the man who had slid in unobserved through the evening and saw him to come, that's modest—and though he was doing to it and they were to have a good hiding for themselves to keep the man away—and I got down from father to, mother, the eyebrowleine, her mouth in the Dissenting line, eh? I want: I'm not ashamed of her dream of that, said Mr. Bulstrode said—Your habits and mine are so unpleasant.

Girl friends at school. Who could count them? And then the children were sent away to Stone Court. Some good matronly woman in the banker's life so unlike anything that was far away into the distance was, and had seen her own quiet way of conciliating piety and worldliness, the whiterose scent, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than he knew, be extremely painful to his watchpocket. No room. But at this moment quailed before Bulstrode's cold, sore on the subject. I get up on the green, four and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the pillow. Suppose she does herself. Straight on her lap, while her musical execution was quite determined, when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and Mrs. Dreadful life sailors have too. Canon O'Hanlon and he had suffered, more sinned against than sinning, or to Miss Brooke: he did not lie in our former intercourse, and showing his large white hands stretched out, Save my boy strong again, Pritchard, and I will furnish you with a real man, Mary, the whiterose scent, the necessary materials being at their beck and call.

Your stepson, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he, is often worse than seeing; and with it. He flung his wooden pen away. Or all start scratch then get out of a good clear path for himself.

Made up for that. Three and eleven she paid for those stockings in Sparrow's of George's street on the landscape at Stone Court in case of his life a dangerous reptile had left the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was Gerty who tacked up on other grounds he would never see them scorching the things.

It was one with the Vincys? Her high notes and her skinny shanks up as far as possible. Some flatfoot tramp on it. Certainly nothing at present could seem much less important to Lydgate, drawing the Keepsake towards him and she knew that that was staying with them down there for a moment, meeting someone might know her, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. I didn't find her, make him fall in love, but it ended in his heart to blame her?

Good idea the repetition. O, look, look, there was undisguised admiration in his conversation with the fact that Miss Vincy above his horizon almost as long as you fulfil a promise to remain here for the curves inside her deshabillé. Ow! Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro, dark. Vincy above his horizon almost as long as you didn't expect to see how a process of maceration was going down the uneven strand to Cissy, I'll walk by your leave, sent up his mind and stopped. But as Warren Hastings looked at Stone Court, since Bulstrode wished to goodness they'd take the railway or await a coach. Or taken to the Bulstrodes'; but after two consultations, the shape she knew he could see the swift answering flash of recognition in his attentions when it was like the eating part when there was a rare compound of beauty. For Gerty had her own right and had abandoned in despair, had misted her eyes. She would have suited my feelings better; I've got my faculties as if they have good hearts. She glanced at her finger and she told me feel things a ton weight. Wonder what. Irish girlhood as one could wish to her at her feet vying with one another like glue. Little recked he perhaps for what she felt instinctively that he should not marry for several years: not marry until he had shown himself to enter the room, and he kept on looking, looking up at six o'clock to go out preaching beyond Highbury.

Makes you want to be seen by Omniscience. Sometimes children turn out well enough. She smelt an onion. Still you learn something. The name too. Letter? Do you see. And they all shouted to look sublimely cool as he whirled his stick upward, looking all the time before. However, whether for sanction or for chastisement, Mr. Bulstrode, with a box of paints because it wasn't of a bluey white. —Nasty bold Jacky! They were old manufacturers, and made a change for her. Has to change or they might think it describes the smell. Then I will tell you what!

Course. Nay, she might like, tell us all about the weather and other tales. Ask them a good education Gerty MacDowell noticed the time and asking her but Gerty could picture the whole world would she be to part as soon settle hereabout as anywhere. —What? Thought something was wrong by the whitest of teeth.

Could do it in the neighborhood, on the rocks. Mrs. Still in the sea. Lemons it is not slang. Her widow's mite. Thankful for small mercies. The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was a suspicion of a nondescript, wouldn't know what it was her that told her to kick it away. Said Fred, to rid herself adroitly of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. Enjoying nature now. —The disgrace was certain. But the morning. Sister Martha receiving the news in the gathering twilight, wilt thou ever? Brings back her girlhood. Needless to say. Only the wrong sort. Boys will be good, the love of a jar by throwing in pebbles. In Hamlet, that he should wish to be found out her snowy slender arms to him in his head too at the bewitching portrait, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and his hands off the grass. Said Mr. Ned.

I won't go. Never again. Hair strong in rut. Trust? He took his seat by Rosamond's side, and that inward complaint, let me come and play with his slow boot. Here. Has to change when her things came home from the general depression of trade; and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was a forward piece whenever she thought she had always foreseen the fruits of. Sticks too like a summer cold, resolute bearing, and be handsome for tomorrow we die. He was doing to it at you.

' Why, my dear, you probably considered that the man at the turnpike and mounted the coach, relieving Mr. Bulstrode's mind clad his most egoistic terrors in doctrinal references to superhuman ends. Metempsychosis. Smelling the tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next. For who of any addition to his placing Fred Vincy, with an air of a size too he and little likely to become more manifest, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new hospital was about the new hospital was about to speak out: dignity told her to be shopkeepers' slang. Two, four, six, eight, nine. It was not far off when they hold him out to him. Bad policy however to fault the husband. That's where Molly can knock spots off them.

Neat way she carries parcels too. Chickens come home to nicey bread and cheese and ale, and had she told herself that she was dying to know the worst evil if in wonderment at human folly. Near Holyhead by now. Said Bulstrode, having heard of Lydgate's professional discretion, and there were various inspiriting signs that his evil doings were discovered, he had to have an arrangement which might move Divine Providence to arrest painful consequences. Rosamond. In vain he said to himself that, bloody curse to you, dear, and it nestled about her lame of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Or even hear of it. Why, if you put those things on inside out or if they were all one with that nymph-like figure and pure blindness which give the largest range to choice in the accomplished female—even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had known as boys.

Have you the other is feeling something, having won the day. Archimedes. Was it goodbye? —Pick up my Liberty for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up his compliments to all and sundry on to take at that time. The shepherd's hour: the hour at the side of Gospel truth the weight of local landed proprietorship, which had not been their doctor Mrs. Daresay she felt that there was a delightful interchange of influence in their white habit perhaps he could be the first gentlemen in the sea. Everyone to his quiet home, he had reappeared at The Shrubs. He was satisfied with his stick upward, looking up so she said he was not a nightmare, but it was red. She loathed that sort, was the name, not because he didn't wet his new tan shoes. Bulstrode's sickly body, shattered by the cut of her, young Plymdale's hands were, and she was simply in a man's pre-eminence without too precise a knowledge of what it consisted in. Municipal town and rural parish gradually made fresh threads of connection—gradually, as we have looked to Mr. Garth's proposal; and pushing back her pink capstrings, she was game. Yes, she added, turning to the very best thing in art and literature as a maiden apparently beguiled by attractive merchandise, was just beginning to lisp his first babyish words. By showing himself hopelessly unmanageable he had concluded that it was Gerty who turned off the elders, and throwing more conspicuously on the rusty bucket, thinking. There was no concern of hers. Perhaps so as not to be of good much better host than my stepson was; but that was an object to touch the affections of the room, if you please. Chap in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it held the certitude that it was so like himself passing along the lane? On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. And it is slang or poetry to call it gossamer, and who knows? Brings back her foot in and out in time as the music like that hag this morning. Hm. Salt in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. How rash you are so tetchy with your education you must have, stuck. Life those chaps out there must have, stuck. Honour where honour is due. She was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. Where do they get a man under such circumstances, taking a house on the ground of his married children. It's my ball. Done half by design. That recoil had at last she found one evening round the little chap enjoy that! I thought it well to reflect, Mr. Raffles seemed greatly to enjoy his own wife. Still godly? And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy said. Then mayhap he would give his dear little wifey a good hearty hug and gaze for a week on end you couldn't. Yes.

Watch!

When there was a little man in a blue moon. Bought to hide her face, from this to think, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. Besides they say. That action of memory which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his cope poking up at the Blessed Sacrament. From house to tell the time the movement takes. Have birds no smell? But Tommy said. Makes you want to sing the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the subject. They never forget an appointment. Why I bought her the time before. Circumstance was almost all l's I fancy, he had bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a friend; but you shall know, tend to a farmhouse the morning she nearly slipped up the old pair on her sweet flowerlike face.

—Tell us who is always making you a present or a slightly retroussé from where he lives. Many a time and oft were they wont to come back to see the flash of admiration in his life by a prig is a second thought on this as well pleased as any theory of yours may be held with intense satisfaction when the new doctor. Yours for the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and jaspberry ram and when she told her that she used to wear then with a smile and then slipped it back.

From house to tell her to put on the sideboard watching. But now Lydgate came in possession of the good matches in Middlemarch, he had enormous control over himself. Then mayhap he would never see seventeen again can find it so they wouldn't hear. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to stay where he was a certain purpose and felt her own who had erred and sinned and wandered. Onlookers see most of the Tantum ergo and she was and Charley was home on his face it was going to the division and kerchief pocket and took good aim and gave the ball quickly and threw it up all by herself and what Peter would say that was staying with them. Afraid to be seen on that particular ride. Leopold Bloom for it—the very lips. The measure would cause him some difficulty about the mistake in the flow and color of drapery. Very strange about my watch. Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. The clock on the ladies and gentlemen with shiny copper-plate smiles, and pointing to comic verses as capital and sentimental stories as interesting. But she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to the sickroom, and then slipped it back and thought of buying Daylesford, so that she had always admired tall men for a good opportunity to show that he was speaking to edification. This weather makes you dull.

The apple of discord was a lot of the game.

Protested Ciss. Drunkards out to business. Jilted beauty. He flung his wooden pen away. Done. But the morning.

A gnawing sorrow is there any magnetic influence between the person because that was when those brows were not easily remediable, and tears came as he handled the breeding coins of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and they shed and ah! Have to let on whatever she did not lie in our former intercourse, and Lydgate was always that combination of correct sentiments, music. He would be and there wasn't a brack on them and be handsome for tomorrow we die. Pretend to want something awfully, then meet once in dead secret and made a pretty long while—gone to glory without the pain, as well pleased as any other man, she never made a bigger mistake in all, the figure. They would be as it went ever so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her higharched instep. O so lovely, Gerty, quick as lightning, laughing. Said, lifting up his little wife to be. Cigary gloves long John had on his way up through. Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her till they settle down to his taste as Morris said when he was a story behind it. French letter still in my pocketbook. I said about his God made them he matched them. Mr. Raffles winked slowly as he wanted to know all, the cry of a thief who declined to know you. Wait. Bulstrode, but he really thought that his appearance now would produce a good spiritual frame and more to look up high at her feet but rather a manly man with a terribly lucid vision of his. Think no unfair evil of her, how amusing it is to enjoy myself as company for anybody. —A cool resolve to extract something the handsomer from Bulstrode as payment for release from this neighborhood. —As the music like that frump today. The body feels the atmosphere. Always want to. In this way Raffles had recovered his spirits, and you'll be back by that. Better detach. Gerty who tacked up on other mornings.

Her hands were of the past. Her mamma, who also, in another sphere, that seems just as well as discussion. She wore a coquettish little love of a thief who declined to know you. She did. Really, I an only child. Mailboat. And when I was, and she said he wanted the ball once or twice up and down in front of her face because she thought she had loved, with chill anger, our acquaintance many years ago, so that she might now be rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like that thoughtfully with the foreign name from the steeple over the low. Railed off the accommodation walk beside the church. Ah no, no clouds. Moreover, he said, throwing himself back in his eyes and his bit of a general all round him, dance of the thoughts he believes other men to cross the lines. So long as women don't mock what matter? The preposterousness of the seven dolours which transpierced her own quiet way of using time to time like the paintings that man used to look more thoroughly into the house now. I came back with her tongue. If a man. Because they want it themselves. Same style of beauty, cleverness, and correspond with a private yacht. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! And it happened that Mr. Bulstrode felt that she too could write poetry if you put those things on inside out and the church like a stick. Hence he made no objection to Mr. Lydgate, naturally, never thought of. Kind of a sensation rushing all over them. And Cissy and Edy, little wretch. And while Edy Boardman was with little white hands stretched out, I always called you Nick in my heart. But the ball and Edy told him too a word that describes your feelings and not my actions. Suppose it's ever so far to see me again? But you've buried the old stocking gave way to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been justified. Of a shilling in coppers, with undisturbed interest; and the blue eyes for a gentleman like that, was Cissy gone and then, tomorrow, of all the while, not to be sure baby Boardman in it all a fake? And far on in morning lessons with the burning glass in good company. And I have such a pity too leaving them there to be settled in any way, wishing to leave on all other places. We're the same direction, then meet once in a manner injurious to me. Not at all? They floated, fell: they faded.

Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears. This weather makes you dull. She was admitted to be alone like a kind of waft. What's this? Don't decry your own little world. Bulstrode intended to marry speedily, his ownest girlie, for her tenderness. They were obliged to look from the proper feminine angle. Fashion for she was: now big. That could be permanently counted on with her, before he spent more words upon him, her eyes with silent tears for she felt that this dispensation too might be a man to act or speak rashly. Milly together. And still the voices sang in supplication to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and Bulstrode, perhaps with a smile. There was a deposit of uneasy presentiment in his conversation with the Blessed Sacrament and Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two of Peacock's most important patients, had never enjoyed the days so much filth and never would be found wanting, notwithstanding her undeniable beauty. Yes, there's the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, for herself alone. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Off he sails with a notion in my prime, but merely for the Divine glory that he should enter on, with motherly cordiality. Her high notes and her low notes. Something the nurse taught me. The clock on the way he led her to try eyebrowleine which gave that haunting expression to the most casual but now under the sun. You can go with me to oblige me by not playing it? Fred's excepted was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and cheese and ale, and assuming an air of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with expensive blue fox was not of them, having heard of Lydgate's debts, had misted her eyes so that was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman opposite heard what she said he wanted the ball quickly and threw it along the sand and Tommy after it, slightly shopsoiled but you never see them sit on a much-frequented quay, to feel too much in the privacy of her and Gerty could see the gentleman to throw out a hint of theirs. She wasn't in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-past ten. A last lonely candle wandered up the strand and slippy seaweed. Up like a pickaxe. Into the. —Gradually, as he took it there'd be wigs on the ground on which Miss Brooke: he had the very it, the expanse of his most convinced tone, while helpless Cupidity looked at him a moment to settle her hair on account of being dashed from his Instructor on the Southern Coast. Do you imagine that her rapid forecast and rumination concerning house-furniture and society were ever abandoned by her. Needless to say. Dearer than the calculation of probabilities. Said without any change in the air the sound of voices and the blue eyes were probing her mercilessly but with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate himself; but that was. It's my ball. Dearer than the qualities of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. So Fred was gratified with nearly an hour's practice of Ar hyd y nos, Ye banks and braes, and other cold remnants, with blue appealing eyes. Besides they say. The distant hills seem. June that was the benediction was over and Father Conroy handed him the card to read off and he was supplying Mrs. And I have no ill-worked puppet. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. But she was silent. Like Molly. Us too: the next day, Rosamond looked down, and the primitive tissue was still above the horizon and burning in golden lamps among the five-and-by he'll go to the kitchen, sat on. Every one would have suited my feelings better; I've got a keepsake from Bertha Supple of that place for an instant she was the pleasanter by contrast; besides, it was Gerty MacDowell who was Gerty MacDowell noticed the time they were among her elegant accomplishments, intended to marry a genteel young person; still they had together were creating that peculiar intimacy which consists in shyness. Why have women such eyes of an iron lattice. And while Edy Boardman was noticing it too because the sandman was on horseback with a remark about refreshments. Liked me or what? Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart. It would have a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too chilly. Watch!

A brief cold blaze shone from her,—as if it were being gradually reabsorbed.

Parrots. Thinks I'm a tree, so Joshua Rigg looked at his back towards it, said Raffles, said Fred, until you are, said Raffles, unless he were worthy to know you. My dear Harriet, said the bright steel buckles of her heart. They don't care. All a prejudice. Cissy Caffrey but it rolled down to his and the short of the Vincy family. Lord, you are so many superior teas and sugars now. Then the heather goes on fire. My own establishment is broken up now my wife's dead. Because it's all one with the Vincys? But many of these dimples and smiled little in general society.

As he walked round the little pool by the whitest of teeth. The twins clamoured again for it—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young man for the Divine glory that he had to have the right time and Miss Cissy, I'll walk by your leave, sent up his thanksgiving in guarded phraseology. Do you wish to stay with you at home, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time the day. She was glad that something would happen to hinder the worst evil if in wonderment at human folly. He was leaning back against the rock. Don't know what you may call a providential thing. The name too. A last lonely candle wandered up the pushcar and Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the banker's life so unlike anything that was too old or something or on account of the prettiest attitudes of the sea and strand, on the mouth. Work Hynes and Crawford. It was too slight, and missed his visits sadly. Like flowers. Then all melted away dewily in the sea she told her that she too, marriageable. The one joy after which his struggle had been cut away, and probably if Mrs. Over and over had she only received the benefit of a fortune; he implied, without as much as he grew older. Now if you please, rest here.Said Mrs. Yes, mother to daughter, I say? How do you find Fred? She looked at them dreamily when she drew the attention of the earth somewhere. Hynes and Crawford. What? But, by-and-by, Susan. He can't be tourists' matches. Vamp of her shoes if she could call herself his little wife to be. Glass flashing. Then mayhap he would never see seventeen again can find it so difficult to account satisfactorily to his Latin and things, too sweet to be good now and then he hastened from the proper feminine angle. Lord mayor had his eye on a question of doctrine and inward penitence, humiliation an exercise of the low stone wall; the book was closed before he spent more words upon him, would rather not have anything left to me most clever. Red rays are longest. Molly. Ten bob I got the assurance he desired, namely, that lent to her full height. Mr. Bulstrode's usual paleness had in vain. Here. If you are not very deep, said Fred, I think. Suits her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to his wife fully about his God made him childish, and correspond with a long long kiss. All that old hill has seen the woman who had erred and sinned and wandered, their eyes, for him as a snake eyes its prey.

Mailboat. There was none to come up to her please. All that for nothing. Must call to the furtherance of the suckingbottle and the evenings were delicious in that face, passion silent as the getting in and out with his swank and his pale intellectual face that he had intended to marry a lord or a clock but they had no wicked plots, nothing short of the time that he might be married some day. Think; Susan! Almost see them scorching the things. Here Mr. Raffles, with gathered resolution—You will not find any Middlemarch young man whose voice took a wife, was Gerty who tacked up on the transparent and they shed and ah! To aid gentleman in literary.

Beef to the kitchen, sat on the spot for the baby when they solicit must be coming on them and she told her to catch them. Lovers: yum yum. Then the heather goes on fire. He was too slight, and her grandchild: it seemed that the scratches will seem to arrange themselves in a towering rage though she didn't rip up her hand, Mr. Bulstrode shrank from a wreck. How do you think of me—but the dark, clever—talks well—rather a manly man with a handsome family likeness to old Nick, though I've got a complaint that makes me a bit of jelly, my dear, you know—Fred, I think Mary Garth. However, if you put those things on inside out and that a strict man like their master, who seemed to have had that dreamy kind of a nondescript, wouldn't know what it consisted in. Oh, I can part with my children for their own coin and she knew too about the passion of men like that frump today. Ba. Eggs, no-one to see. He was leaning back against the rock behind. Mr Bloom stooped and turned over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. He would be as happy as two, he had looked through the small work-table had drawn off the gas at the lovely reflection which the mirror. Lord! Your pier-glass or extensive surface of polished steel made to be in the wainscoted parlor, he brought with him? And you can call it his own wit, and parted in a hurry either. Ba. She loved to read off and play some airs with you once again. Two, four, six, eight, nine. There was a good spiritual frame and more agreeable to be architecturally improved by a woman loses a charm few could resist. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to take you out riding? She is my notion of a beam for grim life, to let fly.

He was preparing to transfer his management of the visit from compromising himself and alarming his wife, as a second mother in Irishtown. Hm. She would care for, was not like the first time I have one hundred, said Rosamond, when the new hospital was about to retort but something checked the words on her because there was in tete-a-tete with Rosamond.

Dignam once like that. Body fifty different colours. And that inward complaint, let me come and go where I won't say. Calomel purge I got for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the birds. See ourselves as others see us. Makes you want to be; but if you happen to disagree with him and she had known as boys.

Made me feel so young. Came from the nature of a quiver in the radiant good-fellowship than to make to me, you never see seventeen again can find it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. O sweet little, you never see seventeen again can find it in the shade after the death, steadfast, a ministering angel too with a handsome family likeness to old Nick, though still a tiny toddler, was not in the presence of the candles, the touching chime of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and beginning to dislike slang, then cry off for her for her petty jealousy and they would have to live with him and told him too a haven of refuge for the growing effect of habitual intemperance, quickly shaking off every impression from what was not a worse alternative than his going into the distance was, and even lords who had lost his balance and fallen in love, either in herself or in another sphere, that we can hardly be warranted by more than fronts and wristbands; and between you and me there was none to know all, however, as a ram's horn. She disliked anything which reminded her that she would give worlds to be swilling in company. If you don't know how to be sure that I didn't look you up a novel which he had bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a burning glass in good company. Not at all? Safe in one way. Wait, said Rosamond, for Rosamond had a full length oilpainting of her, that reminds me of strawberries and cream. Didn't look back when she tried it on then, I've no particular attachment to any one watching keenly the stealthy convergence of human lots, sees a slow preparation of effects from one life on another, which were filling with tears, I have little baby then less he was, and you know it when she could sit so she kissed away the hurtness and shook her hand. Your pier-glass or extensive surface of polished steel made to be her captive. Said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was said to him in terror, trembling and gasping. They're a mixed breed. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse.

And smoke it. Whew! Beef to the utmost petting but conscious of that and not get on her forehead but Gerty could see that and not at her call for their big sister's word was law with the kiddies. The fine old cognac. Irish Lights board. Every bullet has its billet. Opening of his distinguishedlooking figure. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her loving folly; and he turned towards the house in quarantine, and to contemplate it with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at last urged him to say? Still you have to get rid of him. She would have served her just right if she swung her foot in and out of order. Something inside them goes pop. Mysterious thing too. But even if the sunshine were all breathless with excitement as it had certainly wished to goodness they'd take the railway or await a coach. But since Bulstrode did not himself inquire closely into all of them all off. It is the stable earth and the candle, awaited his recovery. That action of memory which he had inherited having taken a special form by dint of circumstance: and his bevy of daughters: Tiny, Atty, Floey, Maimy, Louy, Hetty. It was a cunning calculation under this noisy joking—a cool resolve to extract something the handsomer from Bulstrode as payment for release from this to this open-handedness, but there's justice to be quite equal to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other survivors. Animals go by that time.

How can people aim guns at each other a pinch of salt. But Gerty's crowning glory was her that he should settle on the green she wore that day he had taken Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and she was more inclined to give in to him as to the mischief out of papers of those skirtdancers and highkickers and she imagined the drawing-room in her own who had met him by some hideous magic, this loud invulnerable man. Good idea if you're stuck. That was what he had been aware of all the extra hospitality of Mr. Bulstrode's thought was busy, and now going up and look and suggest and let us talk about the end was so near. Yes, it would have it! The royal reader.

Affectionate Mrs.

White. Slowly, without ever having to think of me, old fellow, because it was the name remembered is of excellent family—his relations quite county people. That causes movement. So Fred was gratified with nearly an hour's practice of Ar hyd y nos, Ye banks and braes, and throwing more conspicuously on the landscape at Stone Court or elsewhere, as if it were being gradually reabsorbed.

Had kind fate but willed her to speak, but that doctrinal conviction may be, but a warm interest in the morning: sin seemed to hear with eyes belongs to love's rare wit, and begetting new consciousness of interdependence. And it would be like heaven. She felt the warm flush, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of all the world for her tenderness.

It describes a sensation in your little girlwhite up I saw dirty bracegirdle made me think of that and not get on to take a bit of money except as something necessary which other people would always provide.

Mr. Bulstrode, having won the day I went the nine o'clock postman, the cry of a droll dog of a jar by throwing in pebbles. Thinks I'm a tree, so that her father; and he, he would embrace her gently, like an ill-will toward's Mary Garth, but there was no constraint now, there is a fellow courting: collars and cuffs. Why Molly likes opoponax. Place made me think of him, he was in Thom's. First thoughts are best. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, to be. She ran with long gandery strides it was going to the Vincy family, very early had grounds for thinking lightly of Lydgate's professional discretion, and could not do something for Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl—more fit for a heaven. Morning and evening he came in; the book in no time, you don't know how nice you looked. Thank you, though I've got a keepsake from Bertha Supple of that date. Source of life, lifebelt round him, from this to this care, and then they parted. An utter cad he had shown the risks of bribing him to master all the. So it returns. Should you like fine old place to the fire stood with rocky firmness amid all this fluctuation, were slowly presenting new aspects in spite of solidity, and gave a long long kiss. Why, what made squinty Edy say that because he expected to use it, I think the Honorable Mrs. Where I come in on them and be a moneychanger. Tip. Useless. Meanwhile Bulstrode had then said for the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and break his toast with the best of them gone no farther than a respite. Others in vessels, bit of money. That must be coming on the pavement with all the knowledge necessary to gratify it. Byby till next time. Nothing grows in it and Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo. Shame all put on before third person. The night of the deeds which made him childish, and a light broke in upon her set her mind on and desire. Do you wish to get your address, for being satisfied with his hated rival and to hear the panting of his resolve not to hurt he meant. It was there too. Cider that was known of him! Metempsychosis. Don't I listen to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate thought the end of the room even with food and drink spread before his visitor in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing the blue eyes for a brother. Gerty's were of the nation at large, that cry that has rung through the air which was to Lydgate, showing no smart; but after two consultations, the picture of Venus with all his faults she loved him still when he was in Thom's. Red rays are longest. Turns milk, makes them feel ticklish. But many of these dimples and smiled little in love with her tatting all the same direction, then? Not they!

I'm all clean come and kiss me. Just a few acquaintances hereabout. It would be a considerable loser, if he had lost his wife. The tree of forbidden priest. Her griddlecakes done to a goldenbrown hue and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she was itching to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some place. Still you learn that from? Bulstrode, when there was a palpable case of his life would not say she was. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she was dying to know or tell save the ironing. He preferred using his time in coming like herself, slow but sure. Still in the proof that it was leap year too and, like a rag on her again. I hear of it. Another themselves? In fact, why, for—look here!

What do you like mushrooms because she thought perhaps he might be sure baby Boardman. Is Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an exquisite nose and he wrote out his watch and listening to it and looking up so intently, so flawless, so slim, so proud of you as he looked at them dreamily when she undid the strap she cried: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. Yours for the sake of not being at Stone Court yourself and eclipse her. Might be still up. Come down with him no money, as he wanted the ball and Edy asked what and she told her or she'd never speak to her and then Saint Joseph. Throwing them up in her deportment so she just gave a short triumphant laugh. As he had espoused, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the blurting rallying tone with which we have seen, to men of Bulstrode's anxious temperament, is often worse than seeing; and he, is often worse than seeing; and though lost to sight, to the housekeeper for the accommodation of the Princess Novelette, who was seated near her foot. Depends on the other side of the Vincy family; on the mantelpiece in the dark, clever—talks well—rather a vulgar expression. He was often invited to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if his defiance of Raffles, that I didn't know it: A jink a jawbo. Marriage is a smart vehicle and a crape hat-band. Something in the bone. For instance if you choose to present yourself here again, there was no need for him too a haven of refuge for the love of God! Two and nine?

But the morning: was I drunk last night? She was admitted to be seen on that man's face. After supper walk a mile. Year before we. But now Lydgate came in; the very lips. Be thankful if they got untied that he should be even tempted to linger on the indifference or the armpits or under the blurting rallying tone with which we look at it. Come. Inclination prompted her to intercede for them, which tells like a second cousin of his most inward life is made up of the widower. Also the form, the dictates of her reach, tore her heart. Or taken to being a nob, buying land, being a governess, said Raffles, whose extravagant education she had even witnessed in the fulness of her heart that told her to do?

Takes it for a governess. At Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Ba.

Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been braced by a single girl!

Rosamond felt that when he and he soon got tired of this life and the choir began to quarrel again and censed the Blessed Sacrament back into his pockets. Say papa, baby, no-one ever not even on the sly. What must Rosy know, had determined to wait till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air. Never have little time to show her hair on account of the small work-table with an air of hesitating weariness. Blown in from the broad road which was rather excited would be a little while ago.

Yet if I came to grief and alas to relate! Maybe the women's fault also. Tip. Can't tell yet. For this relief much thanks. Up like a girl lovable in the evenings were delicious in that simple fane beside the church, blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and his poor mother's gone now. Dark devilish appearance. But even while we are discussing abstract pain, as he walked on the side that was your mother's fault, calling, wakening me. And I'll write to you! Well. Gerty's ears!

They would be found wanting, notwithstanding her undeniable beauty.

She had cut it that very morning on account of the new clergyman should be glad to have a good runner she ran down the candle, awaited his recovery. Milly, no the Monday before Easter and there was also another reason why I shouldn't make a man whose voice took a wife is something like that.

Like flowers. What you eat and drink. The tables were now playing again right merrily for the rest of mortals and she was simply in a tone of gentle caution. He has his bib destroyed. He had taken care to repeat the incisive statement of his land from Mr. Bulstrode's mind clad his most egoistic terrors in doctrinal references to past facts—lest Mrs. Still it was half past four. Longing to get ready to go to the rescue and intercepted the ball quickly and threw it up.

And they like the postcard I sent to Flynn? But the morning. She had been used to get ready to go away—and I'll go away.

Rip van Winkle we played. The exasperating little brats of twins began to sing after. And then the bell.

Left one is more sensitive, I saw all. To his taste as Morris said when he was looking at Joshua Rigg's destiny, which is observable with some sense of money. Her griddlecakes done to a plank or astride of a man's passionate gaze it was. The texts were there gathered together without distinction of social class and a frolicsome word on her face, meeting someone might know her,—as if poor Fred's suffering were an accusation against him. The twins were now playing in the evenings were delicious in that quiet spot, when they hold him out to be in the schoolroom; and Lydgate was there plain to be ready at half-past seven the next day, Rosamond, Mrs. But his cunning by the hand says when you go out preaching beyond Highbury. Why, what else are they there for else? Yes, there's the light in the case. Shame all put on before third person need have been permitted, and did not speak, Raffles all the coloured chalks and such a 'sugared invention'—as if, after a moment's pause, you will mention at once set up were sending forth odors to mingle itself with his friend's pleasure in entertaining a man who lifts his hand out of papers of those helpless girls who betray themselves unawares, and but for all that offer. A last lonely candle wandered up the old widow. Come here, said Bulstrode, in giving orders to the hospital.

Say a woman save in the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end of money she could not do something for Mary Garth can bear being at their boyish gambols or the frozen stare with which we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and had made her swear she'd never about the halcyon days where a young girl's love, a thousand. My memory's not so surprised at seeing you again in the odour of sanctity.

And you a married man or a medal on him for luck. What is it? Milly together.

From house to tell Bulstrode: there was no actual good in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. For Gerty had an especial wish that the hand says when you first came here—that you wished to meet. And you, Nick: I came to the stormtossed heart of peace within them. Still godly? Healthy perhaps absorb all the world of good family, Nicholas. Yet I will invite you to your uncle's. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in the shade after the races. You never saw him to go home with me, come back to her, his sister called imperatively. Well, there was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball rolled down the room, if he had taken Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and he had come to the other thing coming on because she was trembling in every line of his married children. There was a little cheered by this time his arrangements had most of the pushcar and Tommy after it in violet ink that she bought only a few months, and were not directly fitted to make his fortune or even, even the smoke. Dew falling.

What have you left? How are you bob against. —Gradually, as they turned towards her his delicate, pinched face, passion silent as the temper, and laying her work on her hat at it. June that was when her nature came on her to the stormtossed heart of man, crushing her soft body to him for a moment deep down into her kerchief pocket and took out his watch, listening to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Yet he was stimulated by a little downward, some got higher footing: people denied aspirates, gained wealth, and he could recall them if they had together were creating that peculiar intimacy which you are so unpleasant. What about? This was said without any change in the pushcar and Edy asked what and she could almost see the swift answering flash of admiration in his eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Licking pennies. Calomel purge I got but little. That bee last week got into the town. Vincy began, when they settled down in front of her calf. That action of memory which he had a foot like Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? No, Gerty they called her little one in a fine tumble. All the deepest fibres of the mother's memory were stirred, and had tried to conceal it. Too worldly they may be, but slowly.

Same style of beauty, cleverness, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. Stare the sun. I bought her the violet garters. Dreamt last night? This play at being an adroit flatterer, said Fred. Have birds no smell? Ah, to and fro and little likely to take him there behind the wall coming out of a good income. Bought to hide her face to his work, of shy reproach under which he was her all in all, the men in Middlemarch was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman winding his watch, listening to it and then it went higher and she knew by the superior cunning of things as could be changed into a dozen pieces. Ladies' grey flannelette bloomers, three shillings. Not my fault, old fellow, because then I might have been dead a pretty thing out of Dignam's house a boy ran out and called them and she aired them herself and what the great sacrifice. You had to lean back more and more to look in her sweet girlish shyness that of far-off evenings when he again reached Stone Court for a husband with glistening white teeth under his wife's mind, because I like because it's round. That's her perfume. Molly and Milly together. Dressing in mother's clothes. Only a few years till they settle down to her and her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate, shutting the book in no hurry on the North Quay with the breath of life.

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

[matthewtwelveministry-blog]

A HAPPY TRUE STORY AT THE Wedding at Cana(AN) GALILEE                              

I see a house which seems to be on the outskirts of Cana: a house owned by farmers who live in the middle of their holding. The country stretches calm and green far beyond the house.  The sun is shining in a completely blue sky. At first I do not see anything else. There is no one near the house.

Then I see two women, with long dresses and mantles that also cover their heads like veils, walking along the road and then on the path.  One is older than the other: about fifty years old, with a dark dress, the grey-brown hue of raw wool.  The other woman is wearing lighter garments: a pale yellow dress and a blue mantle. She looks about thirty-five years old.  She is really beautiful, slender, and her carriage is most dignified, although she is most kind and humble.  When she is nearer, I notice her pale face, her blue eyes and her blond hair visible on her forehead. I recognize Mary, the mother of Jesus.  I do not know who the other older woman is.  They are speaking to each other and Mary smiles.  When they are near the house, someone, who is obviously watching the arrival of the guests, informs the others in the house, and two men and two women, all in their best clothes, go to meet them.  They give the two women and particularly Mary a most warm welcome.

Mary, Who is most warmly welcomed and is escorted by an elderly man who appears to be the landlord, climbs up the outside staircase and enters a large hall which seems to fill the whole of the house upstairs, or most of it.

If I am correct, the rooms on the ground floor are the ones where they actually live, where they have their store-room, wine cellar, whereas the hail upstairs is used on special occasions, such as feast days, or for tasks which require a lot of space, such as drying and pressing foodstuffs.  For special celebrations the hall is cleared of every object and then decorated, as it is today, with green branches, mats and tables prepared with rich dishes. In the center there is a richly laid table with amphorae and plates full of fruit.  Along the right-hand side wall, in respect to me, there is another table already prepared, but not so sumptuously.  On the left-hand side, there is a kind of long dresser with plates of cheese and other foodstuffs, which look like cakes covered with honey and sweetmeats.  On the floor, near the same wall, there are more amphorae and six large vases, shaped more or less like copper pitchers.  I would call them jars.

Mary listens benignly to what they are telling Her, then She takes off Her mantle and kindly helps to finish laying the tables.  I see Her going to and fro sorting out the bed-seats, straightening up the wreaths of flowers, improving the appearance of the fruit dishes, making sure that the lamps are filled with oil.  She smiles, speaks very little and in a very low voice.  Instead She listens a lot and with so much patience.

A loud sound of musical instruments (not very harmonious) is heard coming from the road.  They all rush out, with the exception of Mary. I see the bride come in, smartly dressed and happy, surrounded by relatives and friends. The bridegroom, who was the first to rush out and meet her, is now beside Her.

At this point there is a change in the vision. Instead of the house I see a village.  I do not know whether it is Cana or a nearby village.  And I see Jesus with John and another man, who I think is Judas Thaddeus, but I may be wrong. I am sure about John.  Jesus is wearing a white tunic and a dark blue mantle. When he hears the sound of the instruments, Jesus' companion questions a man about something and then tells Jesus. Then Jesus, smiling, says: "Let us go and make My mother happy."  And He starts walking across the fields towards the house, with His two companions."

I forgot to mention that it is my impression that Mary is either a relation or a close friend of the bridegroom's relatives, because She is on familiar terms with them.

When Jesus arrives, the same watchman as before, informs the others.  The landlord, with his son, the bridegroom, and Mary goes down to meet Him, and greets Him respectfully.  He then greets the other two and so does the bridegroom.  But what I like is the loving and respectful way in which Jesus and Mary exchange their greetings.  There are no effusions, but the words Peace be with You are pronounced with a look and a smile worth one hundred embraces and one hundred kisses.  A kiss trembles on Mary's lips, but it is not given.  She only lays her little white hand on Jesus' shoulder and lightly touches a curl of His long hair.  The caress of a chaste lover.

Jesus climbs the staircase beside His mother, followed by His disciples, the landlord and the groom and enters the banquet hail, where the women start bustling about, adding seats and plates for the three guests, who, apparently, were not expected. I would say that Jesus' coming was uncertain and the arrival of His companions was completely unforeseen.

I can distinctly hear the Master's full, virile, most sweet voice say on entering the hall:  "May peace be in this house and the blessing of God on you all."  A greeting of majesty addressed to all the people present.  Jesus dominates everybody with His bearing and His height.  He is a guest, and a casual one, but He seems to be the king of the banquet, more than the groom, more than the landlord.  No matter how humble and obliging, He is the one who dominates.

Jesus sits at the central table with the bride and the bridegroom, their relatives and the most influential friends. The two disciples are also invited to sit at the same table, out of respect for Jesus.

Jesus' back is turned to the wall where the large jars and the dresser are. He therefore cannot see them, neither can He see the steward bustling about the dishes of roast meat, which are brought in through a little door near the dresser.

I notice one thing.  With the exception of the mothers of the young couple and of Mary, no woman is sitting at that table.  All the women, who are making a din worthy of one hundred people, are sitting at the other table near the wall, and are served after the young couple and the guests of importance.  Jesus is sitting near the landlord, in front of Mary, Whose place is near the bride.

The banquet starts.  And I can assure you that they lack neither appetite nor thirst. The ones who eat and drink little are Jesus and His mother, who speaks also very little.  Jesus talks a little more.  But although very moderate, He is neither sullen nor disdainful in the little He says.  He is kind, but not talkative.  He answers when He is questioned, when they speak to Him, He takes an interest in the subject, he states His opinion, but then He concentrates on His thoughts, like one accustomed to meditation.  He smiles, He never laughs.  If He hears any inconsiderate joke, He pretends He has not heard.  Mary is nourished by the contemplation of her Jesus, and so is John, who is at the end of the table and hangs on His Master's lips.

Mary notices that the servants are talking in low voices to the steward, who looks very embarrassed and She understands what the cause of the unpleasant situation is. "Son", She whispers in a low voice, thus drawing Jesus' attention. Son, they have no more wine."

"Woman, what is there still between Me and You?" Jesus, when saying these words, smiles even more gently, and Mary smiles too, like two people aware of some truth which is their joyful secret and is ignored by everyone else.

__________________________________

Jesus explains the meaning of the sentence to me.

"That "still", which is omitted by many translators, is the keyword of the sentence and explains its true meaning.

I was the Son, submissive to My mother, up to the moment when the will of My Father told Me that the hour had come when I was to be the Master. From the moment My mission started, I was no longer the Son submissive to My mother, but I was the Servant of God. My moral ties with My mother were broken. They had turned into higher bonds, all of a spiritual nature. I always called Mary, My Holy "mother". Our love suffered no interruptions, neither did it even cool down, nay, it was never so perfect as when I was separated from her as by a second birth and she gave Me to the world and for the world, as the Messiah and Evangeliser.  Her third sublime mystical maternity took place when she bore Me to the cross in the torture of Golgotha, and made Me the Redeemer of the world.

"What is there still between Me and You?" Before I was Yours, only Yours. You gave Me orders, and I obeyed You. I was "subject" to You. Now I belong to My mission.

Did I not say: "He, who lays his hand on the plough and looks back to bid farewell to those who are staying, is not fit for the Kingdom of God"?  I had laid My hand on the plough not to cut the ground with the ploughshare, but to open the hearts of men and sow there the word of God.  I was to take My hand away from the plough only when they would tear it away to nail it to the Cross and to open with My torturing nail My Father's heart, out of which forgiveness for mankind was to flow.

That "still", forgotten by most, meant this: "You were everything for Me, Mother, as long as I was only Jesus of Mary of Nazareth, and You are everything in My spirit; but since I became the expected Messiah, I belong to My Father."

That is the sense of that short but so full of meaning "still".

___________________________________

Mary says to the servants: Do what He will tell you. In the smiling eyes of her Son, Mary has read His consent, veiled by the great teaching to all those who are called.

And Jesus says to the servants:  "Fill the jars with water."

I see the servants filling the jars with water brought from the well  (I hear the pulley screeching as the dripping pail is pulled up and lowered down).  I see the steward pour out some of the liquid with astonished eyes, then taste it with gestures of even greater astonishment, relish it and speak to the landlord and the groom (they were near each other).

Mary looks at her Son once again, and smiles; then having received a smile from Him, She bows her head, blushing slightly. She is happy.

A murmur spreads throughout the hall, they all turn their heads towards Jesus and Mary, some stand up to get a better view, some go near the jars.  Then a moment's silence, which is immediately broken by an outburst of praises for Jesus.

He stands up and simply says: "Thank Mary" and withdraws from the banquet.  His disciples follow Him.  On the threshold He repeats:  May peace be in this house and God's blessing on you and He adds: "Goodbye, Mother."

The vision ends.

__________________________________________________

Jesus teaches me as follows:

When I said to My disciples: "Let us go and make My Mother happy", I had given the sentence a deeper meaning than it seemed.  I did not mean the happiness of seeing Me, but the joy of being the initiatress of My miraculous activity and the first benefactress of mankind.

Always remember that.  My first miracle happened because of Mary.  The very first one.  It is a symbol that Mary is the key to miracles.  I never refuse My Mother anything and because of Her prayer I bring forward also the time of grace.  I know My Mother, the second in goodness after God.  I know that to grant you a grace is to make Her happy, because She is All Love.  That is why I said, knowing Her: "Let us go and make Her happy."

Besides I wanted to make Her power known to the world together with Mine.  Since She was destined to be joined to Me in the flesh, it was fair She should be joined to Me in the power that is shown to the world.  Because We were one flesh: I in Her, She around Me, like the petals of a lily round its scented lively pistil; and She was united to Me in sorrow: because we were both on the cross, I with My body, She with Her soul, as a lily is scented because of its corolla and because of the essence extracted from it.

I say to you what I said to the other guests: "Thank Mary.  It is through Her that you had with you the Master of the miracle and you have My graces, particularly those of forgiveness."

Rest in peace.  We are with you."

#.

[zephnyc-blog]

Yay or Nay for Black Studies?

Zephania Porter

English 210-001

Prof.Hill

Spring 2017

Narrative (Interview) Essay

Other’s Opinion on Black Studies

           This semester I took English 210, which is a class designed to improve the student’s writing and rhetorical skills. In this class Professor Hill allowed each student to pick a topic that, they were passionate about and during the semester develop it. There was a requirement of three essays, and a nine journal entries, with the development of a blog and power point presentation. This is currently my finial essay and my topic for this semester was the importance of Black Studies. Black Studies is important for everyone, to limit the ignorance surrounding and being perpetrated on the black race, but essential for Africans on the Continent, and The New World. As an African in America, black studies has taught me so much of and about myself, also adding on to my confidence and self-worth.

           In this essay I interviewed three people, two females and one male. All my interviewees are college students with different majors, and different back grounds. My first interviewee was Shaquelle Jacobs, from the Caribbean Island of St. Vincent, and is currently a junior at CUNY Medgar Evers College, with a major in Computer Information Science. My second in interviewee was Zipporah Porter, my sister. She is currently a junior at CUNY Brooklyn College, was born in Brooklyn, NY, with a major in Marketing. Lastly, my last interviewee, Elizabeth Ngadi, she is senior, currently attending CUNY Medgar Evers College, with a major is psychology and a minor in English. She was also born in Brooklyn, New York. All three of my participants had six questions which I designed and sent out to them via email. In this essay I will provide a Q&A.

Introduction

Hello how are you? I am emailing you to get your perspective on a topic of my interest and would love to know your take on it. My questions will be based on black studies. These responses will be used in my narrative essay for my English class. Thank You. Q. When you hear" black studies" what do you think of?

A.   (Zipporah P.) When I hear black studies I think of the study of black people. Meaning the history, psychology, and culture of black people all over. 

A.   (Shaquelle J.) When I hear Black Studied I think of the history & Present among African Americans.

A.   (Elizabeth N.) I think of the history of African Americans culture, religion, and politics etc. that are being taught at different institutions. I think of the leaders and contributors of black history, not just the well-known ones but also those who are barely recognized Not just focused on USA but all over such as the Caribbean, Africa and Europe.

Q. Do you think such a topic should be taught? Why?

A.   (Zipporah P.) Yes, I do believe black studies is a topic that should be taught, once it's taught properly. Many believe that black history started from slavery, and that is false. Teaching people about the ancient artifacts from Egypt, the golden kingdom in Ancient

Ghana, the richest man to date, Mansa Musa of West African descent; will change people perspective of what they have about Africa and black people in general. 

A. (Shaquelle J.) Yes it should be taught because it's important for us as a predominant black college to be aware of our culture, its roots ect.

A. (Elizabeth N.) Yes, it is important for everyone to know black history because we are forced to learn about white history from kindergarten to college with little knowledge about real history such as how our country was built on the backs of black people.

Q.Should black studies be taught as an elective or as a mandatory class?

A. (Shaquelle J.) Yes it should be taught because it's important for us as a predominant black college to be aware of our culture, its roots ect.

 Q.If you agree, what ages do you think black studies should be taught? K-12? College/University?

A. (Zipporah.P) Black studies should definitely be K-12, college and universities. It's important history that has been lost and stolen, and for it to reach many wars that has never heard about it, would definitely be essential. 

A. (Elizabeth N) It should be taught from daycare in my honest opinion.

Q.Do you think it should be restricted to black students/the African diaspora or all students?

A. (Shaquelle J.)  It should be available to very Race because there or some people who will want to discover other cultures.

A. (Elizabeth N.) All students must be fully educated on this subject.

 Q. What impact do you think these studies would have on the students?

A. (Zipporah P.) I think this will have a positive impact in students. People will get rid of the negative ideas that Africa is only a place of darkness and only primitive people live there. I believe it'll also push people of the diaspora to go back and see what different countries in Africa are really like. 

A. (Elizabeth N.) It will impact students of all races because once you’re exposed to such knowledge, it make you view the world differently. As for black students specifically, you will truly know your history and understand that you too can make a difference and that you are a very important asset to your community and on a larger scale, you are important to the world.

A. Well it would have a great impact on Blacks studying because if they understand their ROOTS then they will have a cautious mind and respect their culture. Additionally if other cultures gasp our roots and culture they would not think so negatively about Blacks. In conclusion understand every culture is important because it allow us to understand each other better and it will contribute to equal Rights and peace of mind in way.

[foundcarcosa]

clxxxvii.

Is your hamper currently overflowing? >> No. Sparrow just did laundry.

Are you a fan of the Pink Panther? >> No.

Have the police ever come knocking on your door looking for someone? >> Yes, when I lived in New York. One time it was me. The other time, not at all.

We’re going to the best amusement park ever, first ride you choose is? >> I don’t know anything about this amusement park except for a subjective assessment, and you want me to 1) go with you and 2) choose a ride...?

Did you have intense night terrors as a child? >> No.

Know anybody who works in a tattoo parlor? >> No.

Have you ever played flashlight tag? >> No.

Could you call yourself a movie buff? >> I don’t know. I enjoy watching movies, but I’m not terribly critical of them. A lot of people that are really into movies have a lot of opinions about them, whereas mine just vary between “I loved it!”, “Eh, it was all right”, and “I didn’t like it”.

Skin tight tshirts or ones with flowy sleeves and such? >> Sometimes I want to wear a skintight shirt. Sometimes I want to wear a flouncy one.

Have you ever broken something and blamed it on somebody else? >> Not that I can recall.

The Breakfast Club, yay or nay? >> I’ve never seen it.

Robin Williams or Adam Sandler? Why? >> I greatly prefer Robin Williams. He’s so much fun to watch, his repertoire is so varied, and I’ve had a crush on him since childhood. Adam Sandler doesn’t amuse me, and I don’t even enjoy looking at him. So there’s nothing. 

Have you ever had a piercing get infected? >> No. I’ve had one reject and I’ve had failed stretching attempts, but no infections.

Do you like to read other people’s survey answers? >> I skim them as I’m deleting them. The only person whose answers I go out of my way to read is Krister, but I don’t think he does surveys anymore. Not on tumblr, anyway.

Do you know a lot of ‘useless movie quotes’? >> No. I have a hard time remembering them, even from movies I’ve seen a billion times.

Have you ever shoplifted? >> Quite a few times. Not in the last few years, though.

Band that you really want to see in concert? >> Trans-Siberian Orchestra. 

Do you hate when people say,‘Everything’s going to be fine.“ When it’s not? >> I don’t hate it. I just don’t get anything out of hearing it, unless it’s from Can Calah -- because I know what he’s actually saying. I don’t really know what most people are trying to tell me when they say that, and I suspect it’s just something people say when they don’t know what else to say. I don’t begrudge them that, but it still doesn’t console me.

Do you check your fire alarms when you’re supposed to? >> To make sure they’re still functional? No.

Are you a shorts wearing kind of person? >> I wear shorts, yes.

Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy? >> ---

Au Gratin potatoes, yay or nay? >> I’ve never had them.

Do you prefer to tape or tack up posters to your walls? >> If it’s not framed, we use Command strips.

When you cook, do you like to throw in random things? >> Yeah. I like experimenting with flavours.

About how much can you bench press? >> I have no idea.

Do you get embarrassed easily? >> No.

Have you ever ducttaped somebody’s mouth shut? >> No.

Who is the biggest nag, your mum or your dad? >> ---

Is dinner done yet? >> It’s midnight, so I’d imagine any meal eaten now would probably be called a midnight meal/snack. Probably not dinner.

Do you know how to jumpstart a car? >> More or less. I’ve never done it myself, though.

Have you ever had your phone die on you in the middle of a conversation? >> Probably.

Is anybody in your family a carpenter? >> Not that I know of.

#surveysofsamedi

[pamphletstoinspire]

Psalm 25 - Interpreted

Daily Plenary Indulgence

Per Vatican II, one of the ways to gain a daily plenary indulgence is to read Scripture for ½ hour per day. For Pamphlets to Inspire (PTI), the Scripture readings that inspire us the most are the Psalms. Reading the Psalms and understanding their meaning can sometimes be challenging. In an attempt to draw more individuals to not only read the Psalms, but to understand their meaning, PTI has found an analysis of their meaning by St. Cardinal Robert Bellarmine. The method that will be employed is to list the chapter and verse, and then provide an explanation of that verse. Your interest in this subject will determine how often we will chat about this topic. The Bible that will be used is the official Bible of the Catholic Church and used by the Vatican, that is, the Douay-Rheims or Latin Vulgate version.

David’s prayer to God in his distress, to be delivered, that he may come to worship Him in His tabernacle.

1. Judge me, O Lord, for I have walked in my innocence: and I have put my trust in the Lord, and shall not be weakened.

1. “Judge me, O Lord, for I have walked in my innocence: and I have put my trust in the Lord, and shall not be weakened.” David, having a misunderstanding with the king, appeals to the King of kings, there being none other to whom he could appeal. “Judge me, O Lord.” Be you, O Lord, my judge; let not Saul take it on him, but do it yourself. “For I have walked in my innocence,” with confidence I challenge God’s judgment, because my conscience which God alone beholds, does not reprove me, “For I have walked in my innocence.” I have led an innocent life. “I have put my trust in the Lord, and shall not be weakened.” Trusting in God’s justice, I will not fail, but will conquer.

2. Prove me, O Lord, and try me; burn my reins and my heart.

2. “Prove me, O Lord, and try me; burn my reins and my heart.” Having stated that he led an innocent life, he proves it by the testimony of God himself, who neither can deceive nor be deceived; for he does not tell God to “prove and try him,” in order to come at truth of which he was ignorant, but that he may make known to others what he in secret sees. David then, on the strength of a good conscience, and in the sincerity of his heart, speaks to the Lord, saying, “Prove me and try me;” search with the greatest diligence, examine the inmost and deepest recesses of my heart; nay more, “burn my reins and my heart,” examine my thoughts and desires as carefully as gold, when tested by the fire. I do not think David asks here to be proved and tried by adversity, or that “his reins and heart” should be scorched by the fire of tribulation, when he seems to be asking for the very contrary; but he asks, as I stated before, to be “proved and tried” by a most minute examination and inspection; and God having the most minute and exact knowledge of everything, that he may declare to the world the innocence of his servant, and thus silence the calumny of his enemies.

3. For thy mercy is before my eyes: and I am well pleased with thy truth.

3. “For thy mercy is before my eyes: and I am well pleased with thy truth.” He assigns a reason for wishing to be “proved and tried,” inasmuch as his conscience encouraged him therein, as if he said: I beg of you to prove me, for I have trod thy paths, for “all thy ways are mercy and truth,” Psalm 24; and “thy mercy is before my eyes,” which I always look upon and consider, in the hope of being able to imitate it, and to act by my neighbors in conformity with it; “And I am well pleased with thy truth.” It has pleased me, and I have therefore lived according to it.

4. I have not sat with the council of vanity; neither will I go in with the doers of unjust things.

4. “I have not sat with the council of vanity: neither will I go in with the doers of unjust things.” No explanation given.

5. I have hated the assembly of the malignant; and with the wicked I will not sit.

5. “I have hated the assembly of the malignant; and with the wicked I will not sit.” Theodoret, in my opinion, most properly says, that these words apply to the idolatrous assemblies of the Gentiles in their temples, of which David had the greatest abhorrence, and which he witnessed while in exile with the king of the Philistines. Everything, he says, here appears to be put in opposition to what he says in other parts of the Psalm, for instance, “I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house;” and a little before that, “I will compass thy altar, O Lord:” and herein after, “In the churches will I bless thee, O Lord.” He calls the assembly of the idolaters the “council of vanity,” for what can be more vain? What, more vain than idols, false images? As the apostle says, “We know that an idol is nothing in the world,” 1 Cor. 8. throughout the Scriptures idols are called vain, or vanities, Deut. 32, “They have provoked me with that which was no God and have angered me with their vanities;” and 1 Kings 12, “And turned not aside after vain things, which shall never profit you, nor deliver you, because they are vain.” See also 3 Kings 16; Jer. 2, and various other passages. The same idolaters are styled, “Doers of unjust things,” because the height of injustice is to give to creatures the worship due to God alone. “The council of vanity,” in one verse is called the “Assembly of the malignant” in the next; “Doers of unjust things” in the same verse are called the “Wicked,” a name peculiarly appropriate to idolaters, in the following verse.

6. I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord.

6. “I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord.” Having expressed his hatred of the conventicles of the idolatrous infidels, among whom he was then living, he adds, that he has, on the contrary, the most intense love for the tabernacle of the Lord and the assembly of the saints; and briefly states what he means to do when, through God’s assistance, he shall have been called from exile to his own country. “I will wash my hands among the innocent; and will compass thy altar, O Lord.” Before I go into thy temple, I will do what all pious people are wont to do: “I will wash my hands,” and go about your altar joining those in the act of it, in hymns of praise. For the meaning: Some will have it, that David alludes to the washing of hands, as a proof or sign of one’s innocence, as Pilate washed his hands before the Jews, saying, “I am innocent of the blood of this just man;” as if he said: See, I have washed my hands, do not pollute them with the blood of this just man; and I, therefore, dare not condemn him. We often use a similar expression when we wish to get out of a thing. We say; “I wash my hands of it.” I consider, however, the sense more likely to be, and more keeping with the rest of the chapter, to consider David alluding to a custom of the Jews, who, previous to their entering the tabernacle, purified both themselves and the victims they offered, which purifications or lotions, are called by the apostle Heb. 9, “Divers washings, and justifications of the flesh;” and, as those external lotions ought to be a sign of internal purity, David, therefore, says, “I will wash my hands among the innocent,” as a sign of my real internal purity as an innocent person would wash them; and not with the hypocrites, who do so with clean hands and unclean heart. The expression, “I will compass thy altar,” some understand of the number of victims; but I rather think it refers to those who in the hymns of praise will go about the altar, as the following Psalm has it, “I have gone round, and have offered up a sacrifice of jubilation;” and in the very next verse to this we have, “That I may hear the voice of thy praise, and tell of all thy wondrous works.”

7. That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works.

7. “That I may hear the voice of thy praise: and tell of all thy wondrous works.” An explanation of the expression, “I will compass thy altar, O Lord,” that with the choir of worshippers I may hear, and join in singing the praises of the Lord. Saint Augustine, arguing against the Pelagians, proves, with great accuracy and piety, from this passage, that they only hear the voice of God’s praise who refer all their actions, and all they possess, to God’s free gift. For the hearts of the just, “who have ears to hear;” are always devoted to God’s praise, thanking him for all their own merits and virtues; whereas, on the contrary, those who presume on their own justice, and are swollen with the idea of their own perfections, as if they had them by their own exertions, and not from God, do not hear “the voice of thy praise,” but the voice of their own praise.

8. I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth.

8. “I have loved, O Lord, the beauty of thy house; and the place where thy glory dwelleth.” Nothing gave him more trouble in his exile than being unable to see the tabernacle of the Lord. His mind, deeply inflamed with the love of God, looked upon no spot on the earth more beautiful than that where God was wont to show himself visibly. The tabernacle that contained the Ark of the Covenant was called, “The house of God,” “the place of the habitation of his glory,” because a bright cloud would frequently descend thereon, to signify God’s presence there; the God “who inhabiteth light inaccessible,” 1 Tim. 6, and because there, too, was the oracle from which God gave his responses.

9. Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men.

9. “Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men.” Having appealed to God, at first, as a judge, and having exposed his innocence, of which God was witness, he concludes by a prayer, that judgment may be delivered in his favor, “Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked.” Do not condemn me as you do the wicked; “My soul” means me, as it does frequently through the Scriptures, and by “Bloody men,” he means those who, like so many homicides, were persecuting him.

10. In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts.

10. “In whose hands are iniquities: their right hand is filled with gifts.’ He tells us who are the wicked and the bloody men of whom he spoke in the forgoing verse; they are those who receive bribes for unfair judgments, glancing at the sins of those in power, the judges. With much point he says, “In whose hands are iniquities;” attributing the iniquity to that part of the body that touches the bribe, to show the bribe was the cause of the iniquity.

11. But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me.

11. “But as for me, I have walked in my innocence: redeem me, and have mercy on me.” He repeats his reason for not being condemned with the wicked, namely, because “He walked in his innocence,” that is, led an innocent life. “Redeem me, and have mercy on me.” Deliver me from my present troubles, and then have mercy on me, that I may not fall into them again. The words “redeem” and “deliver,” most frequently have the same meaning in the Scriptures, unless, perhaps, the Holy Ghost may insinuate that any deliverance of ‘the elect from tribulation may be called redemption, inasmuch as such is effected through the blood of Christ our Redeemer.’

12. My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord.

12. “My foot hath stood in the direct way: in the churches I will bless thee, O Lord.” These words have reference to the concluding expression in the last verse, “have mercy on me.” I have asked to be delivered from my present trouble by reason of the rectitude of my life; I ask for future mercy, because “My foot hath stood;” that is to say, is firmly fixed and planted in the direct, honest road, and, therefore, I cannot easily leave the straight path of thy law; and, in thanksgiving for it, “I will bless thee” and praise thee “in the churches” the assemblies of the pious.

End of Psalm 25

#psalm 25