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All T Quotes

“Then there are two Churches? No way. There is only one immaculate Bride of Christ. Then does the expression "Conciliar Church" have no real meaning? Alas, it names an all too real reality. It names all those members and structures of the one true Church as caught up in the toils of the subtle errors of Vatican II, and as tending all the time to be taken out of the true Church by these errors. This is the "Conciliar Church" from which Archbishop Lefebvre did not mind being "excommunicated", because, as he said, he never belonged to it in the first place. (Eleison Comments letter #105)”

“Then there came a faraway, booming voice like a low, clear bell. It came from the center of the bowl and down the great sides to the ground and then bounced toward her eagerly. 'You see I am fate,' it shouted, 'and stronger than your puny plans; and I am how-things-turn-out and I am different from your little dreams, and I am the flight of time and the end of beauty and unfulfilled desire; all the accidents and imperceptions and the little minutes that shape the crucial hours are mine. I am the exception that proves no rules, the limits of your control, the condiment in the dish of life.”

“Then there had been the slowdown; an accumulation, as in sluggish rivers. Things ended up in this house that hadn't been needed in their city life but that they couldn't simply throw out. Layers of sediment, over thirty years of it, had sifted in during springs and summers and falls and springs and summers, and now Nell must dig down through these layers, excavate them, as if the house has been buried under the ash from a volcanic eruption.”

“Then there is Annileen. I was tempted to call her 'the Intrepid Annileen' just now - because she seems to be able to deal with whatever horror this planet can imagine. That's what I need to become: absolutely familiar with all the dangers here. She takes them in stride. Not because she's fearless, but because she knows she has to go on, to take care of all the people in her life.”

“Then there is another area of activity - economic interaction between Russia and the United States. Right now, for example, it has already been made public that we signed a large deal to privatise one of our biggest oil and gas companies, Rosneft. We know for sure that US companies, as well as Japanese ones, by the way, are keenly interested in cooperation in Russia's oil and gas sector, in joint work. This has immense significance for world energy markets and will directly affect the whole world economy.”

“Then there is my current reality, the smells that are constants in my life: lemon slices and fresh ginger, the sharp tannin and milky contrast of builder's tea, and the slightly sickly green scent of freshly cut flower stems. And not forgetting the classic ingredients of the chypre base of so many of my favorite perfumes- bergamot, oakmoss, patchouli and labdanum (rock rose)- which I'm finding so reassuring in this time of transition.”

“Then there is that other appeal, the stronger one, of spending, during certain parts of the year, a ten- or twelve- hour working day with bees, which are, when all is said and done, simply a bunch of bugs. But spending my days in close and intimate contact with creatures who are structured so differently from humans, and who get on with life in such a different way, is like being a visitor in an alien but ineffably engaging world.”

“Then there is the callous side, the war-wracked sentiment, the notion that a Band-Aid was ripped from the bullet wound. The fear for what comes next, the longing many Afghans have to leave, the unraveling humanitarian catastrophe, the hunger pains fused with the ache of abandonment.”

“Then there is the extraordinary marriage of observation and mathematics. Mankind, and for some perhaps sociological reason it has been mostly man kind, has developed a sinewy language of the utmost rigour and austerity that has proved to be the perfect tool for teasing out objectively the consequences of an imaginative qualitative leap or of adding spine to a whim so that it can stand up to the harshness of quantitative comparison of prediction with observation. I hasten to add that mathematics does not appear explicitly in this book, but it does lie as a hidden deep foundation beneath it.”

“Then there is the further question of what is the relationship of thinking to reality. As careful attention shows, thought itself is in an actual process of movement. That is to say, one can feel a sense of flow in the stream of consciousness not dissimilar to the sense of flow in the movement of matter in general. May not thought itself thus be a part of reality as a whole? But then, what could it mean for one part of reality to 'know' another, and to what extent would this be possible?”

“Then, there is the secret life. There, alone and in our own realm. Here, we fantasize about sex, romance, and being wealthy. No one knows. Except, when we cross over and violate societal mores. We betray, experience relationships that would be scorned in the other two lives. And to the extent we deviate from the norms, the greater amount of time is expended for clandestine pursuits. And we stay here because it’s addictive.”

“Then, there is the secret life. There, alone and in our own realm; Here, we fantasize about sex, romance, and being wealthy. No one knows. Except, when we cross over and violate societal mores. We betray, experience relationships that would be scorned in the other two lives. And to the extent we deviate from the norms, the greater amount of time is expended for clandestine pursuits. And we stay here, because it’s addictive. From the poem, "The Addictive Life.”

“Then there’s also spiritual gaslighting: the common tendency in conscious and wellness communities to blame oneself and others for not being able to maintain a “high vibration” state and consequently to manifest the life of one’s dreams. If you’re struggling with mental illness, having a crummy day, or stuck in a tough situation in your life—so the thinking goes—then your bad vibes and negative thinking must be the cause. This kind of thinking is yet another reason that I don’t talk about “raising your vibration.” While raising your vibration suggests overriding challenging emotions through forceful positive thinking, raising your voltage is about being fully embodied and present with whatever you are experiencing, and allowing all emotions to flow through without obstruction or suppression.”

“Then there's the pillar statue in the semi-subterranean temple at Tiahuanaco [Bolivia]. Like the Totem Pole of Göbekli Tepe, it is anthropomorphic. Like the Totem Pole at Göbekli Tepe, it has serpents writhing up its side. Like the Totem Pole at Göbekli Tepe, the long fingers of its hands almost meet in front of its body. The face is human not animal, however, and it's heavily bearded. Nonetheless, the figure of an animal is carved on the side of its head and this animal resembles no known species more closely than it does Toxodon, a sort of New World rhino that went extinct during the cataclysms at the end of the Ice Age around 12,000 years ago. This isn't pareidolia--the figure is definitely there. So there's only one question--and it's difficult to answer: is this a depiction of Toxodon, or is it some creature of the artist's imagination?”

“Then there was communism's weak-tea sister, socialism. Socialists maintained that we shouldn't take all the money away from all the people since all the people don't have money. We should take all the money away from only the people who make money. Then, when we run out of that, we could take more money from the people who...hey, wait! Where'd you people go? What do you mean you're "tax exiles in Monaco?"”

“Then there was darkness. The light from the oil lamp had gone off. She wasn't in the tub anymore. She had been wrapped in a thin cloth that impeded her movement, but she managed to pull it apart, to slide it away, and it slipped from her shoulders as neatly as the membrane she'd observed. Wood. She could smell damp earth and wood, and when she raised a hand her knuckles hit hard surface and a splinter cut her skin. Coffin. It was a coffin. The cloth was a shroud.”

“Then there was Mr Mandela. Everybody knew about Mr Mandela and how he had forgiven those who had imprisoned him. They had taken away years and years of his life simply because he wanted justice. They had set him to work in a quarry and his eyes had been permanently damaged by the rock dust. But at last, when he had walked out of the prison on that breathless, luminous day, he had said nothing about revenge or even retribution. He had said that there were more important things to do than to complain about the past, and in time he had shown that he meant this by hundreds of acts of kindness towards those who had treated him so badly. That was the real African way, the tradition that was closest to the heart of Africa. We are all children of Africa, and none of us is better or more important than the other. This is what Africa could say to the world: it could remind it what it is to be human.”

“Then there was Nico di Angelo. Dang, that kid gave Leo the freaky-deakies. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger, and the Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair struck up in curls like baby bat wings. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of Tartarus—which he had.”

“Then there was the craving. Consuming. Incessant. Brutal. The flavors from the tasting were a wild, live thing inside her. She wasn't able to taste one damn thing she put in her mouth. When she had stopped at the restaurant, Ashi had given her some chicken kababs in a mint chutney. They had tasted like coming home. Even before Ashna told her who had made them, she had known. After that she had found herself at the restaurant again this morning. Ashi had given her all the kababs she had left over and Trisha had pulled over to the side of the road and eaten them in her car, chewing at them slowly, reverently, desperately stretching out the pleasure of his flavors. It had only intensified her craving for everything about him that the taste of his food invoked. The strength that poured from him in waves, the steadiness, the gentle humor, the merciless challenge of things she had always accepted without question.”

“Then there was The House of Future Needs, an old pawn shop that engaged in the sale of utterly useless trinkets. Except, of course, your purchased knickknacks were guaranteed to become “unforeseeably important” in your immediate future. “What is useless today can save your life tomorrow” the shopkeeper advertised, a man rumoured to have glimpsed into the atemporal dimension of Subexistence. Vivian passed the pawn shop a number of times before her cynicism made room for a purchase. ‘So how does this work exactly?’ ‘You see, miss, you have a looksee around, see? And pay attention to what draws you in. Then you go right ahead, see, and take a gander on some of my wares. See if there’s anything that grabs your eye, see?’ was the shopkeeper’s advice. Vivian ended up buying a red eyepatch for no obvious reason. Truth be told, she had wanted an eyepatch ever since Miles Fenn piqued her interest in pirates. All those stories about great sea battles, buccaneer lifestyle and treasure must have rotted her brain.”

“Then there was the realisation that I didn't actually feel that much better when I was thin(ner). In fact the 'thin' version felt worse because I lived with hunger clawing at my stomach all the time, and in fear that I was going to get fat again. After years of neuroticism I'd finally understood those who loved me would continue to put up with me fat or thin, and those who didn't ignored me. As a middle-aged woman I was pretty much invisible anyway. To pass unnoticed through an image-obsessed society is surprisingly liberating.”