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M Quotes

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“Mirrors on the ceiling, The pink champagne on ice And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device' And in the master's chambers, They gathered for the feast They stab it with their steely knives, But they just can't kill the beast Last thing I remember, I was Running for the door I had to find the passage back To the place I was before 'Relax,' said the night man, 'We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave ...”

“Mirrors show exact reflection of you. What if there were a mirror that showed a different reflection than yourself? Imagine that Ram stands in front of the mirror and sees not Ram but Shyam in the mirror. “Maya” is the house of such mirrors. The people you see around you are just your different reflections. Some reflections are similar to you and others are completely different. If you try to change a reflection, you would end up banging your head against a mirror. Instead, change your position and angles. Don’t try to change people. Just change your distance and expectations from them.”

“Mirth,” Dr. Tuttle said. “I like it better than joy. Happiness isn’t a word I like to use in here. It’s very arresting, happiness. You should know that I'm someone who appreciates the subtleties of human experience. Being well rested is a precondition, of course. Do you know what mirth means? M-I-R-T-H?" "Yeah. Like The House of Mirth," I said. "A sad story," said Dr. Tuttle. "I haven't read it." "Better you don't.”

“Mirth is God's medicine; everybody ought to bathe in it. Grim care, moroseness, anxiety-all the rust of life- ought to be scoured off by the oil of mirth.”

“Mirza Masroor is not the Present Khalifa Of Islam He is only a cozener of a fake Religion --- Misusing of the internet and Google Search has become a beneficial tool for fake ones, and even such ones neither fall in international jurisdiction nor considered dangerous that damage others' values and realities. It is a collapse of the truth in the mirror and the context of the minorities' right to freedom, which is under the process of falsehood in all its directions and dimensions. The fake Messiah, or Jesus Mirza Ghulam Ahmad Qadiyani and his all fake khalifas fooled Christianity and Islam, and they continuously practice on this false claim of the prophetic mission. Wikipedia, the unreliable and untrusty encyclopedia, facilitates the way of command to a minority of the fake prophet upon a clear majority of Muslims and Christians. The followers of a fake Hindustani Jesus Mirza Ghulam Ahmad Qadiyani entered world media and websites such as Wikipedia to publicize their wrong and false mission. Qadiyanis are doubtlessly termites of religion, who have challenged, not only Islam but factually, also Christianity with the creation of fake Jesus. Virtually, I have been the victim of Qadiyanis during my contribution to the Wiki-project to maintain standards and neutrality of it; thereupon, a gang of Qadiyanis succeeded that I left Wikipedia, and they, with the collaboration of my opponent ones, also managed to delete my article in Wikipedia. Not only that, but they also tried hard to eliminate me from the net-world, but thanks to Google Search, which significantly displayed Ehsan Sehgal more than that it was. Consequently, they stayed humiliated with their actions of bad-faith. These days on social media, a non-Muslim, non-Christian; however, self-made and self-claimed, Mr. Miraza Masroor Ahmad is in Google Search as Present Khalifa Of Islam, which is indeed not only incorrect only; it is a shameless and false claim for provoking the real Muslims. As a fact, Qadiyanis are neither Muslim nor Christian; they are just grifters and cozeners. Qadiyanis know that they deliberately victimize Muslims theoretically to become practically victimizers, for achieving empathy and sympathy from Westerners stupids and idiots, who have even not a little knowledge and study about Islam and Christianity, except media discriminations and wrong interpretations with the ill-mental context.”

“Mis ausencias eran los huecos entre las líneas que no sabían unirse. Y mientras escribía encontraba tanto alivio como dolor en el acto de hacerlo. En una burlona contradicción, crecía cada vez más y me hacía cada vez más pequeña. Me curaba y me enfermaba. Me enfermaba. Notaba esa herida sangrar en alguna parte. Las gasas eran ese procesador de textos. La polividona yodada eran los libros abandonados en todas partes.”

“Mis cabellos ¿no lo dicen? ¿No se ven aquí los golpes de la sangre y las señales? ¿Vosotros, sois hombres nobles? ¿Vosotros, padres y deudos? ¿Vosotros, que no se os rompen las entrañas de dolor de verme en tantos dolores? Ovejas sois, bien lo dice de Fuenteovejuna el nombre. Dadme unas armas a mí pues sois piedras, pues sois tigres... Tigres no, porque feroces siguen a quien roba sus hijos, matando cazadores antes que entren por el mar y por sus ondas se arrojen.”

“Mis dolencias aparecen de forma traicionera, nunca se sabe cuándo. Algo sucede en mi cuerpo, y lo primero que me duelen son los huesos. Es un dolor desagradable, empalagoso y constante. No desaparece durante horas, y a veces ni siquiera durante días. No es posible esconderse de este dolor, no hay ni pastillas ni inyecciones para calmarlo. Tiene que hacerme daño, igual que un río está obligado a fluir y el fuego a arder. Me recuerda cruelmente que estoy hecha de efímeras partículas materiales que se desgastan a cada segundo. ¿Podría acostumbrarme a él? Vivir como viven las personas en las ciudades de Oswiecim -la Auschwitz nazi- o Hiroshima, sin pensar en absoluto en lo que ocurrió anteriormente allí. Simplemente viven. Al dolor de huesos le siguen el dolor de estómago, de intestino, de hígado, de todo lo que tenemos dentro. Un dolor persistente, que solo la glucosa es capaz de atenuar parcialmente, por lo que siempre llevo unas ampollas en mis bolsillos. Nunca sé cuándo puedo sufrir un ataque, cuándo voy a sentirme peor. A veces tengo la impresión de que estoy construida únicamente con síntomas de enfermedad, de que soy un fantasma hecho de dolor. Cuando no consigo reponerme, imagino que en el estómago, desde el cuello hasta el perineo, tengo una cremallera y que la voy abriendo lentamente, de arriba abajo. Y después saco las manos de las manos, las piernas de las piernas y la cabeza de la cabeza. Salgo de mi propio cuerpo y este cae como un montón de ropa vieja. Soy pequeña y delicada, casi transparente. Mi cuerpo es como el de una medusa: blanco, lechoso, fosforescente. Solo esa fantasía es capaz de proporcionarme cierto alivio. Me ayuda a liberarme también.”

“Mis-information is rampant in this great age of mass-information. While we have more access to learning than ever before in the history of the world, we’re actually getting dumber it seems. The amount of (mis)information at everyone's fingertips has lured us into a false sense of knowing. Whether it be information about science, politics, or theology, our society is suffering from an inability to research, process, filter, and apply. At the same time we seem entirely oblivious to the zeitgeist (spirit of the age) that is nihilistic and libertine, making everything relative and subjective. And Satan himself rushes to blur our vision, stirring up the dust of confusion. The church must respond by teaching the critical faculties of logic and spiritual discernment, embedded in a cohesive framework of fides quaerens intellectum (faith seeking understanding). We must obtain a reasonable faith that is consistent with historic Christianity and relevant for our post-modern age. Otherwise, those rejecting the blatant errors of religious fundamentalism will be susceptible to every wind of false doctrine and repackaged heresy imaginable. They will leave the orthodox faith and accept something that vaguely resembles Christianity, but in reality is a vile concoction of demonic lies.”

“Mis ojos están sobre los árboles. Porque los árboles no viven en fragmentos. Hasta que caen, permanecen flanqueados por la vida en su propio abrazo. Durante el día el sol es suficiente. Bajo la lluvia, llueve. Su hambre no supera el tamaño de sus ganancias. Brisa significa danza para ellos. Luna significa alegría. Cuando la oscuridad los acompaña la invitan a hacer deporte. Los árboles no buscan llegar Más Allá donde se encuentran sus raíces. Nunca sueñan con volar, Sus Raíces en el aire.”