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“Yes, make no mistake, racism (like sexism, patriotism, and ethnonationalism) is a form of governance in that it consistently prevents change and maintains the status quo by deflecting attention from the core issues; by pitting people against each other. In doing so, it blinds most people from seeing who the real enemy is. Racism as a form of governance makes people waste all their energy in the wrong places as well as channel all the hatred and bitterness against the wrong populations (Blacks, immigrants, foreigners, and so on).”

“Yes, many women who had pursued careers and not families experienced loneliness. But the question of whether that loneliness would be ameliorated by marriage -- any marriage -- was one that didn't get attention, even when another executive explained to the paper that some choices about remaining unmarried were made expressly to escape the unhappiness of an earlier generation of married women: "When you think of your mother as helpless, unable to choose her own life, you become determined never to be vulnerable.”

“Yes, microplastics can come from degrading plastics, no matter what their shape or form. Micro plastics in the bloodstream would be most likely to come from ingestion; that is either by eating or drinking contaminated products as it then becomes easier to enter the bloodstream. Other microplastics would enter the body by inhalation when we breathe. In general, most of the microplastics, in the body, are the PET type (polyethylene terephthalate) which comes from drink bottles, food containers and food wrapping. So we need to be more careful and stringent. If not, then we run the risk of truly becoming a plastic society.”

“Yes, movies! Look at them — All of those glamorous people — having adventures — hogging it all, gobbling the whole thing up! You know what happens? People go to the movies instead of moving! Hollywood characters are supposed to have all the adventures for everybody in America, while everybody in America sits in a dark room and watches them have them! Yes, until there's a war. That's when adventure becomes available to the masses! Everyone's dish, not only Gable's! Then the people in the dark room come out of the dark room to have some adventures themselves — Goody, goody! — It's our turn now, to go to the south Sea Island — to make a safari — to be exotic, far-off! — But I'm not patient. I don't want to wait till then. I'm tired of the movies and I am about to move!”

“Yes, My Son, man is a piece of wood, that can be used for everything, from the moment he’s born until the moment he dies, he’s always ready to obey, send him there and he goes, tell him to halt and he stops, tell him to turn back and he retreats, whether in peace or in war, man, generally speaking, is the best thing that could have happened to the gods, And the wood from which I’m made, since I’m a man, what use will it be put to, since I’m Your son, You will be the spoon I shall dip into humanity and bring out laden with men who shall believe in the new god I intend to become, Laden with men You will devour, There’s no need for Me to devour those who devour themselves.”

“Yes," Naveen said. "Yes?" Hope surged through her. "You'll do it?" "Of course I will, Tiana." There was something about the way he said her name---the way it rolled off his tongue in that lyrical way he spoke. If she didn't know any better, Tiana would have thought the Shadow Man had taken away her ability to speak. She was transfixed by the subtle hint of longing in Naveen's hazel-colored eyes. The butterflies returned. But Tiana didn't try to suppress them; she didn't want to. Because this flutter was filled with excitement and yearning and all those feelings she'd tried so hard to ignore this past year when it came to Naveen. For one brief moment, Tiana allowed herself to just feel. "Thank you," she finally answered, her voice once again catching in her throat. "Anything for you," he said.”

“Yes no yes no yes no? Red blue? Yes red, no blue? No red, yes no? In out, up down? Do don't, can can't? Choices sit on the shelf life New shoes in a shoe shop. If the in crowd are squeezing into a must-have shoe And the one pair left are too tiny for you Don't feel compelled into choosing them If you're really a size 9, buy that size. While everyone else Hobbles round with sore feet Your choices should feel comfortable Or they aren't your choices at all. Why limp when you can sprint”

“Yes, now you know. Now you know! That's what it was to be alive. To move about in a cloud of ignorance; to go up and down trampling on the feelings of those...of those about you. To spend and waste time as though you had a million years. To be always at the mercy of one self-centered passion, or another. Now you know — that's the happy existence you wanted to go back to. Ignorance and blindness.”

“Yes, of course," she said, the words rushing out. "You're defending your country." She opened her mouth again, then bit her lip. "Go on," he said. "Ask what you wanted to ask. I don't bite." "Well, I suppose I just wondered whether you had... whether you had actually ever killed anyone." He laughed. "You know, you do seem much younger than sixteen," he said. "But in answer to your question- yes, I have. More than one." He stopped. There was a new, dark look in his eyes when he continued. "You can't imagine what it's like. The Libyan heat sticking to you, day in, day out. Nothing but sand and rock for miles. Not a bit of green. All day, crawling in the dust, shooting and being shot at. Men dying around you. You realize, when you see a person die, that there's nothing special about humans. We're just flesh and blood and organs, no different to the pig that have us this bacon. "So, all day, dust, death, everywhere. I went to sleep each night with dust in my mouth and the smell of blood in my nose. Even here- I'm still finding dust on me. Under my nails, in my hair, caked into the soles of my shoes. And I can still smell the blood. All so that some English girl, sitting pretty in her father's manor house, can ask me if I ever killed anyone.”

“Yes, our Father has a plan, Ciminae,” he said. “But he leaves it up to his children to accept his will. It is their agency. He cannot force his will upon them. If he did, he would cease to be God. They . . . we must choose for ourselves to accept his will with unbreakable faith in our Father. That is when the Father moves us to do his will.” (The Spirit. From Book 2, "Worlds Without End: Aftermath," coming September 1, 2012)”