Και το φως ορκίστηκε να μην παραδοθεί, μα το ξέρει, σωτηρία δεν υπάρχει, δεν θα παραδοθεί, μα θα σβήσει.

Having a Constitutional political party is a little like telling a car-jacker, "You're not allowed to do what you're doing! And if you don't stop it right now, we are going to ask you to order yourself to be nice! And if that doesn't work, we are going to try to elect a new car-jacker, who we hope will tell himself not to steal our cars! ... But at least we're not like those silly utopian anarchist kooks out there who refuse to work within the system for change! Those crazy people say there should be NO car-jackers at all!

Their arrogance protected them against any liking for their fellow-man, against the slightest interest in the strangers sitting all about them, amidst whom M. de Stermaria adopted the manner one has in the buffet-car of a train, grim, hurried, stand-offish, brusque, fastidious and spiteful, surrounded by other passengers whom one has never seen before, whom one will never see again and towards whom the only conceivable way of behaving is to make sure that they keep away from one's cold chicken and stay out of one's chosen corner-seat.

I don't so much mind looking back on having lost the election, or having been denied a role in the play, or having had my novel repeatedly rejected, or having been turned down for a date, or recalling laughter at my expense when I attempted some silly challenge.  Those things simply prove that I lived life.  What I do mind, however, is looking back on the lost opportunities where imagined concerns kept me from even trying—lose or win.  I've learned that there is no regret in a brave attempt, only in cowering to fear.

In regard to the so-called social contract, I have often had occasion to protest that I haven't even seen the contract, much less been asked to consent to it. A valid contract requires voluntary offer, acceptance, and consideration. I've never received an offer from my rulers, so I certainly have not accepted one; and rather than consideration, I have received nothing but contempt from the rulers, who, notwithstanding the absence of any agreement, have indubitably threatened me with grave harm in the event that I fail to comply with their edicts.

The paranormal isn't something we should be afraid of. Understanding eliminates fear. To understand that anything that's not of God is of satan. There's no grey area. No human souls occupy the spirit world right now. These apparations we see tormenting these people on these television shows are just satan's demons. They definitely exist. They just were never human. Satan uses ignorance as power. Since we fear what we don't understand. He uses that to his advantage. He feeds off fear. He doesn't try those who understand in that way.

But I can say you’re okay for an irreverent party boy with occasional moments of brilliance.”“Brilliant? You think I’m brilliant?” He threw his hands skyward. “You hear that, world? Sage says I’m brilliant.”“That’s not what I said!”...“Come on, Sage. You understand how my mind works. You said I was brilliant, remember?”Eddie glanced at me in surprise. “You did?”“No! I never said that.” Adrian’s smile was infuriating. “Stop telling people that.

Κάθε Έλληνας που δεν παίρνει, ας είναι και μια φορά στη ζωή του, μια γενναία απόφαση, προδίνει τη ράτσα του.

No," he said. "I don't want you to suffer. Much. But the next time you're in bed with Belikov, stop a moment and remember that not everyone made out as well as you did."I turned back to face him. "Adrian, I never—""Not just me, little dhampir," he added quietly. "There's been a lot of collateral damage along the way while you battled against the world. I was a victim, obviously. But what about Jill? What happens to her now that you've abandoned her to the royal wolves? And Eddie? Have you thought about him? And where's your Alchemist?

I am so unimaginably sorry for doing what I am going to do, but you see I have all these fears. The fears and doubts I have are so real, so are they really as childish and silly as you always say they are. Sometimes, I am sad and so bitterly lonely and at times, I feel useless, as if I cannot accomplish even the simplest task. Do not get me wrong, I do not always feel this way, because we do laugh and we do often have fun together, but always though I still have this lonely, sadness in my chest. If you looked at me, you would never know the turmoil inside of me.

To be a poet in today’s technological age means to be underrated and at times, ignored. In a world where the noise of industry reigns supreme, the poet’s voice is being drowned out, but it is a voice that is desperately needed. Our words ring out into the atmosphere and calls the masses back to their senses. We must seize this opportunity and remain true to our purpose in society. Ours is a most noble duty, here to represent the misunderstood and underrepresented, and one day, one person will heed the call of our words and the world will be set ablaze!

As I explain in 'What It Means to be an Anarcho-Capitalist', to be an anarchist simply means you oppose aggression, and you realize the state necessarily commits aggression. If you are not an anarchist, it means you either condone aggression, or think the state does not necessarily commit aggression. As you say you are not an anarchist, can you please tell us which one describes you? Are you in favor of aggression (like socialists and criminals are)? Or, do you think the state does not commit aggression (like children brainwashed by government schools think)?

Do you go see her?" "No," I said, refusing to acknowledge that I'd just seen Lissa last night. "That's not my life anymore." "Right. Your life is all about dangerous vigilante missions." "You wouldn't understand anything that isn't drinking, smoking, or womanizing." He shook his head. "You're the only one I want, Rose.""Well, you can keep feeling that way, but you're going to have to keep waiting." "Much longer?" He asked me."I don't know." Hope blossomed on Adrian's face. "That's the most optimistic thing you've told me so far.

You'll need to do a better job, Annabelle. No more dates like the first one tonight.""Agreed. And no more making me sit through your Power Matches introductions, either. As you so wisely pointed out, helping Portia Powers isn't in my best interests.""Then why are you still trying to talk me into seeing Melanie again?""Hunger makes me weird.""You got rid of the last one in fourteen minutes. Well done. I'm rewarding you by letting you sit in on all the introductions from now on."She nearly choked on an ice cube. "What are you talking about?""Exactly what I said.

His [Thomas Edison] method was inefficient in the extreme, for an immense ground had to be covered to get anything at all unless blind chance intervened and, at first, I was almost a sorry witness of his doings, knowing that just a little theory and calculation would have saved him 90 per cent of the labor. But he had a veritable contempt for book learning and mathematical knowledge, trusting himself entirely to his inventor's instinct and practical American sense. In view of this, the truly prodigious amount of his actual accomplishments is little short of a miracle.