There is no such thing

Man has been reared by his errors: firstly, he saw himself always imperfect; secondly, he attributed to himself imaginary qualities; thirdly, he felt himself in a false position in relation to the animals and nature; fourthly, he always devised new tables of values, and accepted them for a time as eternal and unconditioned, so that at one time this, and at another time that human impulse or state stood first, and was ennobled in consequence. When one has deducted the effect of these four errors, one has also deducted humanity, humaneness, and “human dignity.” 160

Morality is the herd-instinct in the individual. 161

There is no such thing as health in itself, and all attempts to define a thing in that way have lamentably failed. It is necessary to know thy aim, thy horizon, thy powers, thy impulses, thy errors, and especially the ideals and fantasies of thy soul, in order to determine what health implies even for thy body. 163

Mystical explanations are regarded as profound; the truth is that they do not even go the length of being superficial. 169

I set the following propositions against those of Schopenhauer —Firstly, in order that Will may arise, an idea of pleasure and pain is necessary. Secondly, that a vigorous excitation may be felt as pleasure or pain, is the affair of the interpreting intellect, which, to be sure, operates thereby for the most part unconsciously to us, and[Pg 125] one and the same excitation may be interpreted as pleasure or pain. Thirdly, it is only in an intellectual being that there is pleasure, displeasure and Will; the immense majority of organisms have nothing of the kind. 171

Prayer has been devised for such men as have never any thoughts of their own, and to whom an elevation of the soul is unknown, or passes unnoticed. 171

and had no right to the bread

Education, like charity, should begin at home. Bennett had spent eleven years in being educated, but he had been taught nothing at all of the place in which he lived. He had not been told why it was, what it was, nor for what purpose it existed and grew and expanded. He knew nothing of its history except that it had once had a Latin name and had been occupied by the Romans, and that Oliver Cromwell had passed through or near it with his Roundheads. Everything that was told him was presented to him in such a desiccated form that his gorge rose at it and he could swallow it only with an effort. In a city of Puritans it seemed meet and right that education, like religion and life, should be made as unpleasant as possible.

The only real education that Bennett ever got was in his daily walk to and fro over the two miles that separated his home from the school. He could cover the distance in three ways: either he could go through slums and [Pg 214]under factories and engineering shops along the low ground, or he could take the high ground behind the Albert Station and soon come to suburbs and the streets where the middle classes gathered, or he could pass through the Jews’ quarter down by the Assize Courts and the gaol.

Most often he chose the third way. The mysterious, large-headed, thick-featured creatures with their oily, beady eyes exercised a strange fascination over him. He liked their Kosher shops, their bills written in weird characters, the women with their hard stiff wigs, the men with their queer gnarled legs and their feet loosely hinged at the ankles. He always looked at their feet, because a boy at school had once pointed out to him how the Jews always wore their boots down on the outside edge of the sole. He never knew why the Jews were there in such large numbers, but they interested him. They were romantic. All the cleverest boys at school were Jews. They seemed to learn everything with an extraordinary facility. . . . Almost his only friend at school was a Jew named Kraus, whose father and mother were in Roumania, and at intervals they would send him over a hamper containing queer fishes and black olives and rose-leaf jam, and then Bennett would go home with Kraus and have an orgy. Once Kraus gave him some unleavened bread, and Bennett kept it as a curiosity, and frightened himself with pretending that the tragedy of the Passover was come again, and that the angels would not mark his house because he was not a Jew and had no right to the bread.

Kraus had an aunt who was a musician and a singer. She sang so sweetly that Bennett was moved to tears and fell violently in love with her, though he would not admit it to himself, for all thought of love disgusted him. It was Kraus who revealed to Bennett the mystery of his birth, and in the filthiest way possible explained to him the process by which he had his being. It took Bennett some time to recover from the despair into which the revelation threw him, but it never occurred to him to doubt the truth of his friend’s statements. The filthiness was in the world and not in Kraus. They became more intimate, and [Pg 215]their talk was almost always dirty, though innocent. It was a swaggering pose, their way of equalising matters with the bawdiness of the world that lay before them.

Bennett had no corrective. No grown person ever held out a hand to save him from his dark thoughts and uneasy desires when they came to him, nor troubled to enquire into what pitfalls he might be tumbling. Instructed by Kraus he went the way of all flesh and lost his peace of mind and the bloom of his boyhood. All around him he saw darkness and ugliness, but never any beauty. The one place in his daily walks that his imagination fastened on was the gaol, and he dreamed of prisoners and policemen and arrestments.

His friendship with Kraus lasted for three years, during which Bennett fell in and out of love (with absurd chivalry and nobility) with his sisters’ friends. The rupture came when one day Kraus filled the whole of their walk home with an account—largely invented—of an adventure with a loose factory girl whom he had encountered in the street seeking whom she might devour. A black abyss yawned at Bennett’s feet, his brain whirled, and he said:

Campion longed to turn his

Meanwhile Rudolph II had succeeded to the imperial throne; and the “magnificently provided” Envoy who was sent to[67] Prague, bearing the congratulations of Queen Elizabeth, was none other than Sir Philip Sidney. Sidney’s mind was set upon seeing his old friend Campion, and talking with him; but he managed only with difficulty to carry out his wishes. He went officially in the Emperor’s train to hear his friend (not yet in priest’s orders) preach, and on his return to England unguardedly spoke with delight of the sermon. Whenever Sidney visited the Continent he was supposed to become tainted with a hankering after Catholicism, though in all his public actions he was conspicuously Protestant company set up hk .

Campion, who knew him from boyhood and was not given to misjudgment, believed that he had almost won over the star of English chivalry: “this young man so wonderfully beloved and admired,” he calls him in 1576; a testimony doubly interesting, when we remember that Philip Sidney was then but three-and-twenty, to the effect which his short life made upon all his contemporaries. “He had much conversation with me,” Campion’s letter goes on, “and I hope not in vain, for to all appearances[68] he was most keen about it. I commend him to your remembrances at Mass, since he asked the prayers of all good men, and at the same time put into my hands alms to be distributed to the poor for him; this trust I have discharged.” He ends by hoping that some of the missionaries then going back to England from Douay will have “opportunity of watering this plant . . . poor wavering soul!” Fr. Parsons in his Life of Campion tells us that Sidney “professed himself convinced, but said that it was necessary for him to hold on the course which he had hitherto followed.” Such was the sad answer of Felix to St. Paul hk offshore company .

Campion’s thoughts had turned often of late to another friend, Gregory Martin, who had left overcrowded Douay for the Seminary newly founded in the heart of Rome, in the ancient English hospice for pilgrims. Campion longed to turn his fellow-priest into a Jesuit, for he loved his own Society in the extreme; but that was not to be. A letter to Martin, glowing with that interior fire which was shed out[69] from Edmund Campion upon everything he touched, ends most tenderly. “Since for so many years we two had in common our College, our meals, our studies, our friends and our enemies, let us for the rest of our lives make a more close and binding union, that we may have the fruit of our friendship in heaven. For there also I will, if I can, sit at your feet service apartment hong kong

 .”

After years filled with literary and academic labour in two Colleges, and blessed with marked growth in holiness, Edmund Campion was ordained priest by the Archbishop of Prague. His first Mass was said on the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lady, September 8, 1578. Following his General’s express command, he dismissed the old unhappy scruple about his Oxford diaconate, and it troubled him no more. He was made Professor of Philosophy. “You are to know,” he pleasantly says, “that I am foolishly held to be an accomplished sophist!” During the course of this year 1578, he wrote his last and most famous drama, now lost, on St. Ambrose and the Emperor Theodosius, which, when[70] acted, made a tremendous stir. He became ever more and more noted as a preacher, a “sower of eternity” in the popular heart, as well as the favourite orator when grandees died and were buried in state. But all this time his mind and heart were far away.

Last of all and most recent

Once is enough,” says Budapest. “We shall never go Bolshevist again.” When one listens to the stories of what happened while Hungary was under the heel of Bela Kuhn, his only wonder is that once was not too much. The first man to give me an inside picture was the correspondent of the Manchester Guardian; his mother had been thrown out of a fourth storey window by the pillaging rabble who visited her home. The second was Hungary’s greatest iron-master, who crouched with his wife and daughter in an unlighted cupboard during the entire regime of terror. But though Hungary is sincerely repentant and, as an actual fact, less likely than Great Britain or America ever to go Bolshevist, the indiscreet experiment of two years ago has created a prejudice. The need of Hungary is as pressing as that of any Central European country, but a quite insignificant amount of relief work is being done. There has been no feeding of children since last August, when the funds allotted for that purpose gave out reenex facial.

The American Relief Administration is planning to renew its activities immediately; but the neutral countries, which have carried on such fine work in other famished areas, have done next to nothing for Hungary. Yet Hungary’s claims are in many respects more urgent. It has suffered from the war. It has suffered from the Peace Treaty, which has given away to Roumania and Czecko-Slovakia its best wheat-lands and all its important sources of fuel reenex facial .

It has suffered from Bela Kuhn. Last of all and most recent, it has suffered from the Roumanian invasion, which resulted not only in theft on a wholesale scale, but also in the most senseless destruction. From all these causes the country is filled with refugees and naturally the children are the chief sufferers. There are two refugee universities in Budapest, which have taken up their headquarters in old tobacco-factories. When I say refugee universities, I mean literally seats of learning like Yale and Harvard which have transplanted themselves entire, with professors and students and now have no visible means of support reenex facial

.

There are over 40,000 people living in freight-cars in the railroad yards in and around the city. They lack every means of sanitation. Epidemics are continually springing up among them which threaten to spread throughout the country. At the present moment measles and scarlet fever are rife. There is no means of ventilating a freight-car, except by letting in the cold, and no means of heating it, except by keeping the doors shut and stifling. I visited the freight-car dwellers today and was notified of their presence by a smell not unlike an open sewer. Men, women, and children lay dying in those boxes, while the living slept beside them. There was no attempt at decency. Decency is a weak word. All sense of elementary cleanliness was forgotten. Here women bore children in the publicity of their families and all the intimate details of married life were witnessed by the most innocent and the youngest. The freight-cars of Budapest are not a series of homes, but an itinerant jungle. When the smell becomes too obnoxious in one spot, they are hauled to another. The fate of their occupants is nobody’s business; they are left to die.

I choose to be in

Michael is Business Broadband Provider the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, “If I were any better, I’d be twins!” He was a natural motivator.

If an employee was having a bad day, Michael was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Michael and asked him, “I don’ t get it. You can’ t be positive all the time. How do you do it?”

Michael replied, each morning I wake up and say to myself ‘Mike, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.’ a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life.”

“Yeah, right. It isn’t that easy.” I protested.

“Yes it is, ” Michael said. “Life is all rental apartment about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line is: It’s your choice how you live life. ” I reflected on what Michael said.

Soon thereafter, I left the big enterprise that I had worked in for years to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often though about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard Michael was involved in a serious accident, falling off 60 feet from a communications tower.

After l8 hours of surgery, and weeks of intensive care, Michael was released from the hospital with rods placed in his back. I saw Michael about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, “If I were any better, I’d be twins. Wanna see my scars?” I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as Beverly skin refining center the accident took place.

Light, is the real life taste

Light, is calories the real life taste. The subtle fragrance, faint moonlight, faint landscape, faint clouds. I like light, like the light taste, in the light of thinking. In the light of sketch that hint of fragrance, a miss, a nostalgic. Light, not slow, but in the light of taste. As the light of Zen, have a kind of ineffable meaningful.

Read a thousand million pieces of text, far less than what also don’t see more at ease. Read a thousand million people, far less than what people do not read, more quiet. Irwin, tired as text. Love, for love of the storm. The love of money, and eventually became a miser. By, but often, greedy to pain. “Heart Sutra” said: “color does not vary empty, empty is not color… Makes you.” Seek the empty, like a piece of white paper, also do not have what, what is the taste? Just empty hold. A color, like a paper full of color, makeup, long lost paintings ethereal and charm, and what to see? The Chinese painting masters, knows the charm, a few pen ink, ink, a little stain, point blank, a party Zhu AC motor manufacturer India, then let the vivid picture. Seemingly pay no heed to, Seiitsu several pens, but exercise one’s inventive mind, such as the main giant pen. Whether you understand, in a word, is to look at comfortable, with leisure taste reading, static product has clear huan.

Life has a flavor is Qing Huan, A hedge between keeps friendship green. The subtle greeted, lightly along, lightly to send. You come, I do not like; you go, I not sad. Is the Buddhist going. The Qing Dynasty, is the true color of life. A cup of water, adjustable taste of life. A cool color drawings, daub a few pen, there will be unexpected God rhyme. Knew, can according to thousands of earthly resurrection. Heart such as water purification, can reflect the natural bright moon and cool breeze, the mountains are mountains, watch the water is water, the clear.

The hands of a cup of tea, a vase of flowers on the table, a picture on the wall, the head of a bed a book out of the window, a pastoral. Leisure goods tea, wait and see flowers, up to appreciate a painting, bow to touch the book, looked up and natural. Italy, the heart free. All the light, no Acacia, not chasing, not bother. This is the Qing Huan clear moonlight, wind, cold, years of quiet, everything is so quiet. The world, is a person’s happiness, also is a person. Tired, sleep; hungry, eat some homely fare. Not for the visitors to the customer, not to not for profit, so only to a window to enjoy the beautiful and romantic, leisure life.

Net bottle in violet, light purple, noble, elegant. Leaf texture is very warm, very run Hsien static, free and easy, graceful, such as the Republic of China Qipao woman, pleasing Italian wine to the eye, heart, leisure, a little hint of scroll flavour. Small and delicate flowers, only three purple petals, the middle root fluffy golden core, with clear spirit and charm of unspeakable. Flowers are often afternoon fade, a flower not to see, in the morning when the bloom, a simple and elegant. Flower, have no trace, this is how a kind of state? I like simple and elegant, simple and elegant words, simple and elegant flowers, elegant woman, elegant time. All quietly, quietly spend, wait quietly, without greeting, not to be missed, one point only this heart Lingxi through.

If love, please deep love

A heart umbrella, hold the suffering, the total stream, flowing slowly. Those happy, perhaps living fulfillment.

Do not give up, let the soul more recent years, is heavy and full of feelings. The time is long, Xu is the deep love, always simple wish each other happiness, will review each other’s feelings Dr Max.

There are so few moments, know how to break the line, my heart is full of melancholy. Because of love, all is the original appearance, can not let time stay some black screen?

Faint orchid, micro smoked time. Shallow Yan language, gentle years Tzu Chi to thin cool. Ink stained finger where the shoe pinches, fleeting, chew lips touch of lingering in warm up once the lingering halo company formation.

The color of life, will be returned to the time, if you are not in, how do I get old? The origin, the feeling in the heart is also in the fall, margin.

If you love, please love deeply. If not, whether pain or happy, tightly holding each other’s hand, brave go on.

The book of songs, walking quietly exile years of the soul. A wisp emotions, beautiful life, graceful ink.

Lonely, with ink, instant prosperous lonely figure. Seasonal Ling cold dense of the mind, the son away lean thinking.

Some pieces of the mind, one evening, and the old. Always, nostalgia, with years of starlight.

The dusty past, time gap is still pain linger. Some thin affair, unspeakable water cool towel. Abstract the years, smoke and dust. The pain of those pictures, always peeping fleeting.

The wind and rain, wet the lonely time, bleak smile. Cold air, freezing the finger tip of brow tenderness tenderness, hibernate in the years of dust and smoke.

Warm, flickering, overflowing with traces of life. My mind, when to go back to the soul homeland?

Perhaps, the downtown will fall, the life of love, will be covered with dust. A road, there is always a person, amazing things past, left in a hurry.

There will always be a person, be willing to dull, gentle and long. The time vicissitudes face, Dankan earth fireworks, live through the fundus. To end, can withstand the homecoming.

How many romantic love, lost in the years of the roof. Perhaps, smoke and dust, but busy and lonesome moan. The bones of the feelings, not follow the years old.

Once the brief encounter, years later, the sky will flash in each other’s soul. The tacit understanding with beautiful, walked far away, the original color of life meaningful the hearts of each other.

Always believe that true love is not scattered, love your people will not leave. Familiar to can’t familiar with, still like bone marrow. The quiet wilderness grazing mind, the simple back to life, let the black screen residual end, precipitation flashy, let the love let in the eternal.

Petals blooming time, fashion ideas. Your charming smile, years precipitate the most beautiful smile.

A forgotten corner of love, a little sad pity, wrapped by family warm, less lingering, less enthusiastic, but also more dignified.

Years, Dian Dian the deepest feelings, flowing slowly in each other’s life safe. Perhaps, the most precious time of life, is to hold each other’s hands slowly old.

Don’t hold your hand, I’ll hold your heart. Let the apparent sincerity, and meaningful life. Life, get rid of red tape, a pure regression.

I love love, warm my heart: warm, and slowly old go…