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O Quotes

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All O Quotes

“Once again decent citizens will be able to enter this house of worship, kneel down in front of a nearly-naked man hanging from a wooden apparatus by a series of gruesome body piercings, and engage in their bizarre practices of ritualized blood-drinking and cannibalism without being assaulted by graphic images of attractive young women with bare breasts.”

“Once again Erak bellowed with laughter. "Your master here went nearly the same shade of green as his cloak," he told Will. Halt raised an eyebrow. "At least I found a use for that damned helmet," he said, and the smile disappeared from Erak's face. "Yes. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell Gordoff about that," he said. "He made me promise I'd look after that helmet. It's his favorite-a real family heirloom." "Well it certainly has a lived in feel to it now," Halt told him, and Will noticed there was a hint of malicious pleasure in his eye.”

“Once again he could hear the planet’s joints and lifeblood. Stirrings in the stone. Ancient events. Here, time was like water. The tiniest creatures were his fathers and mothers. The fossils were his children. It made him into remembrance itself. He let his bare palms ricochet upon the walls, drawing in the heat and the cold, the sharp and the smooth. Plunging, galloping, he pawed at the flesh of God. This magnificent rock. This fortress of their being. This was the Word. Earth. Moment by moment, step by step, he felt himself becoming prehistoric. It was a blessed release from human habits. In this vast, capillaried monastery, through these openings and fretted spillways and yawning chthonic fistulae, drinking from pools of water older than mammal life altogether, memory was simply memory. It was not something to be marked on calendars or stored in books or labeled in graphs or drawn on maps. You did not memorize memory any more than you memorized existence. He remembered his way deeper by the taste of the soil and by the drag of air currents that had no cardinal direction. He left behind the cartography of the Holy Land and its entry caves through Jebel el Lawz in the elusive Midian. He forgot the name of the Indian Ocean as he passed beneath it. He felt gold, soft and serpentine, standing from the walls, but no longer recognized it as gold. Time passed, but he gave up counting it. Days? Weeks? He lost his memory even as he gained it.”

“Once again," he said, "we have failed pathetically. Quite pathetically." "That," said Ford quietly, "is because we don't care enough. I told you." He swung his feet up onto the intrument panel and picked fitfully at something on one of his fingernails. "But unless we determine to take action," said the old man querulously, as if struggling against something deeply insouciant in his nature, "then we shall be destroyed; we shall all die. Surely we care about that?" "Not enough to want to get killed over it," said Ford. He put on a sort of hollow smile and flipped it around the room at anyone who wanted to see it.”

“Once again I am being held hostage for my vagina," She sighs. "What is it with you aliens? Can't a girl just make her own decisions for once? Is that so freaking hard?" "The khui has decided," I tell her. She gives a small shake of her head. "It's always someone else's decision. When's it going to be mine?" I watch her, frustrated. There is no decision to be made. The khui has decided. And yet... I don't like the way her words make me feel. Or the defeat in her voice. Liz is a fighter. I don't want her to give up.”

“Once again I am riding my bike on the streets of loneliness. Your thoughts are the anchor that make me ride fast yet not lose my balance. You had promised me that you would never leave me alone. But I do know that the love that you have bestowed on me is more precious than the biggest pearls discovered by the sailors on their voyages of prosperity. I too sail on myriad voyages in the ocean of my life. And your love holds my ship steady in those turbulent waters of life when even the moon does not show her face to the world!”

“Once again I am riding my bike on the streets of loneliness. Your thoughts are the anchor that make me ride fast yet not lose my balance. You had promised me that you would never leave me alone. But I do know that the love that you have bestowed on me is more precious than the biggest pearls discovered by the sailors on their voyages of prosperity. I too sail on myriad voyages in the ocean of my life. And your love holds my ship steady on those turbulent waters of life when the moon even does not show her face to me!”

“Once again, I stared at him: only this stare was different from those other stares. A man was pressing me to do something I did not want to do, and pressing me in a manner he would never have applied to another man: by telling me that I didn't know what I wanted [...] It was as though an invisible membrane had fallen between me and my lover, one fine enough to be penetrated by desire but opaque enough to obscure human fellowship. The person on the other side of the membrane seemed as unreal to me as I felt myself to be to him [...] the memory of that fine, invisible separation haunted me; and more often than I like to remember, I saw it glistening as I gazed into the face of a man who loved me but was not persuaded that I needed what he needed to feel like a human being.”

“Once again, I was conscious of the paradox of the compound: that here, at the heart of the unfolding events, we could catch no more than a glimpse of them. Fires were burning all over Dili; the smell was in our nostrils from the moment we wok up, and occasionally we could see columns of smoke. But the flames themselves, and the faces of the fire starters, were invisible. At the computers in the Unamet press room, we waited in turn to log on to the news websites and learn what was happening to us.”

“Once again, it is difficult to start from the premise of mindless evolution and end with the idea that humans are anything more than organisms bent on preserving and passing on their DNA. The fact that humans not only pursue art, philosophy, and science, but also exult in those things more than reproduction cannot easily be explained through materialism.”

“Once again, Jesus turns to the crowds. ‘Oh, by the way, souls don’t exist, despite the rumours. I was merely being poetic. The fact remains that you are mainly water — 60-70% I believe — blood, guts, bones, and some of you have brains. Your soul was invented by those living loved ones to help justify the dead’s ethereal journey to the afterlife. There is no journey. Life itself is a dead-end. And, by association, the afterlife doesn’t exist. Sorry to be a bit of a party-pooper. Mother insisted that I put you all in the picture. Moral of the story? Enjoy life while you can, and never take an extra minute for granted, because Mother can grin and bare her razor teeth whenever and whenever she likes.”

“Once again she would arrive at a foreign place. Once again be the newcomer, an outsider, the one who did not belong. She knew from experience that she would quickly have to ingratiate herself with her new masters to avoid being rejected or, in more dire cases, punished. Then there would be the phase where she would have to sharpen her senses in order to see and hear as acutely as possible so that she could assimilate quickly all the new customs and the words most frequently used by the group she was to become a part of--so that finally, she would be judged on her own merits.”

“Once again St. Nicholas Day Has even come to our hideaway; It won't be quite as fun, I fear, As the happy day we had last year. Then we were hopeful, no reason to doubt That optimism would win the bout, And by the time this year came round, We'd all be free, and safe and sound. Still, let's not forget it's St. Nicholas Day, Though we've nothing left to give away. We'll have to find something else to do: So everyone please look in their shoe!”

“Once again, the Empire of Russia has defeated the nation. It is important to recognize it now, when Russia is suffering a moral, military and, broadly speaking, civilizational defeat in Ukraine. The attack on Ukraine is a fiasco of the still-born idea of ‘the Russian world,’ russky mir, as one lot of Russian speakers bomb, torture and shoot other Russian speakers; as they burn Orthodox churches and demolish Russian-speaking cities of Mariupol and Kherson. This is not a war for Russia but for the re-establishment of the Empire, a war of revenge on Ukrainians (it is even crueller, because they are considered ‘one of us,’ ‘our brothers’) for daring to think that they could break away and follow their own path.”

“Once again the Naderites were onstage attacking the Educational Testing Service - the organization which develops and administers the scholastic aptitude tests...the reason for the wax is that the E.T.S. tests persist in showing some people to be smarter than others. And if some people are smarter than others, there might actually be some justification for an economic system in which some people have more money and authority than others.”

“Once again the Scriptures are a lodestar, a benchmark, the plumb line steadies us and steers us clear of what is happening in the world and gives us a glimpse of history and politics, economics and daily experiences from God's point of view. Going back to this mother lode of wisdom and knowledge, inspired by God, brings grace and further insight not found in other devotional materials.”