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Breaker

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Emma Raveling

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“Einstein wrote that “science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind,” but we have to remember that Einstein talks about the “cosmic religious feeling,” which is very different from the religious feeling exercised within the official religions. He explains, “[h]ow can a cosmic religious feeling be communicated from one person to another if it can give rise to no definite notion of a God and no theology? In my view, art and science's most important function is to awaken this feeling and keep it alive in those who are receptive to it.” … “I maintain that the cosmic religious feeling is the strongest and noblest motive for scientific research.” … “A contemporary has said, not unjustly, that in this materialistic age of ours, the serious scientific workers are the only profoundly religious people.” … “You will hardly find one among the profounder sort of scientific mind without a religious feeling of his own. But it is different from the religiosity of the naïve man.”

“She averted her eyes from his naked chest and reached up to close her window. He lifted his arms, curling his hands around the sash of his own window. Between his upraised arms, he stared at her, and his smile widened. "What's wrong, Lily? Are you shutting your window because you're afraid I'll breathe the same air you do?" She met his gaze across the short distance that separated them. "I didn't know leeches could breathe." He didn't get angry at the insult. Instead, he laughed. "You're a worthy opponent. I don't think I've ever met a woman with a quicker wit than you. If you'd been a man, there's no telling what you might have accomplished." "If I'd been a man, I'd have called you out in the fine old Southern tradition five years ago and shot you. That would have been a fine accomplishment." She slammed the window shut and closed the curtains. Daniel was right, of course. Within minutes, the room became suffocatingly hot. She desperately wanted to open the window again, but she didn't want to give him any victory, no matter how small. So, she waited in the dark as her bedroom became an oven, listening to the clock on her dressing table tick away the minutes. When the clock chimed the quarter hour twice, she got out of bed and walked to the window. He was sure to be asleep by now. She slipped the curtains open, and as quietly as possible, she raised the sash. "Told you so," a sleepy male voice murmured. Lord, she hated him.”

“Oh, Daniel,” his mother exclaimed, catching him before he could make his escape, “do come join us. We’re trying to decide if Honoria should be married in lavender-blue or blue-lavender.” He opened his mouth to ask the difference, then decided against it. “Blue-lavender,” he said firmly, not having a clue as to what he was talking about. “Do you think so?” his mother responded, frowning. “I really think lavender-blue would be better.” The obvious question would have been why she’d asked his opinion in the first place, but once again, he decided that the wise man did not make such queries.”

“Daniel chuckled. Whoever that poor girl was, he hoped his family was paying her well. And then, finally, she lifted her fingers from the keys as Daisy began her painful violin solo. He watched her exhale, stretching her fingers, and then . . . She looked up. Time stopped. It simply stopped. It was the most maudlin and clichéd way of describing it, but those few seconds when her face was lifted toward his . . . they stretched and pulled, melting into eternity. She was beautiful. But that didn’t explain it. He’d seen beautiful women before. He’d slept with plenty of them, even. But this . . . Her . . . She . . . Even his thoughts were tongue-tied.”

“You've never heard of bagpipes?" Cody asked, sounding aghast. "They're as Scottish as kilts and red armpit hair!" "Um . . . yuck?" I said. "That's it." Cody said. "Steelheart has to fall so we can get back to educating children properly. This is an offense against the dignity of my motherland." "Great," Prof said. "I'm glad we now have proper motivation.”

“Then, with a cheeky quirk of his brows, he leaned forward and murmured, “Would it be improper of me to admit that I am inordinately flattered by your attention to the details of my face?” Anne snorted out a laugh. “Improper and ludicrous.” “It is true that I have never felt quite so colorful,” he said, with a clearly feigned sigh. “You are a veritable rainbow,” she agreed. “I see red and . . . well, no orange and yellow, but certainly green and blue and violet.” “You forgot indigo.” “I did not,” she said, with her very best governess voice. “I have always found it to be a foolish addition to the spectrum. Have you ever actually seen a rainbow?” “Once or twice,” he replied, looking rather amused by her rant.”