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From: Kupcho C. <hab...@ma...> - 2010-03-23 21:01:22
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at her uplifted face, shining now with the radiance which always filled it when she spoke of her Lord, saw again that glowing face which she had watched across the gate at Hollywood and heard the strange, exultant tones, 'He is my King!' Ah, that was beautiful! That was what Aunt Marthe meant, and Pompey and Dyce. "Jesus must come to abide, not merely as a transient guest," Aunt Marthe continued in her low tones. "We must give him full control of our thought and will. We must hand him the keys of the citadel. We must give the all for the all,--that is only fair dealing. You see, dear child, Christ cannot fill us until we are willing to be emptied of self. He must have undivided possession. There is a vast amount of heartache, little one, in this old world, and self is at the bottom of it all, when we stop to analyze it. We want to be first, to be thought much of, to be loved best. No wonder that the selfless life seems impossible to most people. Think what a continuous self-sacrifice Christ's life was! So utterly alone and lonely among such uncongenial surroundings with people uncouth and totally foreign to his tastes. Ah! we don't realize it. We look at him doing the splendid things amidst the plaudits of the multitude, but think of the monotonous, weary days, going up and down the sun-baked streets surrounded by a crowd of noisy beggars full of all sorts of loathsome disease, and the humdrum life in Nazareth; and all the time the great heart aching with that ceaseless sorrow,--'His own received him not!' Oh, what a waste of love! We do not realize that it is in these footsteps of his that we are called to follow. We are willing to do the great things, with the world looking on, but not for the loneliness and the pain! It seems a strange antithesis that Paul should count that as his highest glory, and yet how comparatively few seem counted worthy to enter with Christ into the shadow of that mysterious Gethsemane which lasted all his life. 'The fellowship of his sufferings.' It must surely mean the privilege of getting very near his heart, just as human hearts grow closer in a common sorrow,--knit by pain. Yes, de |
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From: Zwack <bra...@sa...> - 2009-12-05 21:35:40
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Gid, listening. "Now!" he whispered, and drew her close, kissing her. Spurred boots clattered on the stone floor: "Herr Je!" exclaimed an astonished voice. Somebody laughed. But the airman coolly pushed the girl aside, and as the faint grey light of dawn fell on his field uniform bearing the ribbon of the iron cross, two pairs of spurred heels hastily clinked together and two hands flew to the oddly shaped helmet visors. "Also!" exclaimed the airman in a mincing Berlin accent. "When I require a corps of observers I usually send my aide. That being now quite perfectly understood, you gentlemen will give yourselves the trouble to descend as you have come. Further, you will place a sentry at the tower door, and inform enquirers that General Count von Gierdorff and his staff are occupying the Nivelle belfry for purposes of observation." The astounded officers saluted steadily; and if they imagined that the mythical staff of this general officer was clustered aloft somewhere up there where the bells hung it was impossible to tell by the strained expressions on their wooden countenances. However, it was evidently perfectly plain to them what the high Excellenz was about in this vaulted room where wires led aloft to an unseen carillon on the landing in the belfry above. The airman nodded; they went. And when their clattering steps echoed far below on the spiral stone stairs, the airman motioned to the little bell-mistress. She followed him up the short flight to where the bells hung. "We're in for it now," he said. "If High Command comes into this place to investigate then I shall have to hold those stairs.... It's growing quite light in the east. Which way is the wind?" "North," she said in a steady voice. She was terribly pale. He went to the parapet and looked over, half wondering, perhaps, whether he would receive a rifle shot through the head. Far below at the foot of the bell-tower the |
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From: Novara <pho...@ki...> - 2009-08-31 10:35:05
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Tters whose styles of hitting are so different that they may be said to be distinct. The one, comprising such hitters as Connor, Brouthers, Tiernan, Wise, Fogarty, Whitney, Ryan, Denny, and Fred Carroll, use the full length of the bat, and in addition to the push of the shoulders make a decided swing at the ball. In the other, in which are Anson, Kelly, Dunlap, and a few others, the motion is more of a push than a swing. Anson, who, if not the best batter in the country, is certainly the surest, seldom does anything but push the bat against the ball, only occasionally making what might be called a swing. Many of the latter class grasp the bat up short, and some of them keep the hands a few inches apart. If I were advising a novice which style to learn I should say the latter, because it is the surer, though such batters seldom hit as hard as the others. Every ball player who pretends to play the game with his brain as well as with his body, should be able to hit in whatever direction he wishes. It may not be always possible to hit in the exact direction desired, and, of course, he cannot "place" the ball in any particular spot, but he can and should be able to hit either to left field or right, as the occasion demands. The advantage of this to the player himself and to his team cannot be overestimated. For example, there is a runner on first who signals to the batter that he will try to steal second on the second ball pitched. When he starts to run the second baseman goes for his base and the entire field between first and second is left open. Now, if the batter gets a ball anywhere within reach and taps it down toward right field, the chances ar |
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From: Cutright H. <pla...@pa...> - 2009-08-30 19:35:30
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Ide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.net), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. 1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. 1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided that - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph |
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From: Privalsky <pen...@bo...> - 2009-08-24 04:02:35
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T gave color and character to the combination. The whole compound was Abolitionized. It was not, indeed, the voting strength, although this was considerable, that the Abolitionists brought to the Republican organization, that made them the real progenitors of that party. It is possible that the other constituents entering into it, which were drawn from the Anti-Slavery Whigs, the "Anti-Nebraska" Democrats, the "Barnburner" Democrats of New York, the "Know-Nothings," etc., numbered more in the aggregate than the Abolitionists it included; but it was not so much the number of votes the Abolitionists contributed that made them the chief creators of the Republican party, as it was their working and fighting ability. They had undergone a thorough training. For nearly twenty years they had been in the field in active serv |
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From: Delduca <gr...@hv...> - 2009-08-20 20:06:30
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Ng as I live. SCENT OF IRISES A FAINT, sickening scent of irises Persists all morning. Here in a jar on the table A fine proud spike of purple irises Rising above the class-room litter, makes me unable To see the class's lifted and bended faces Save in a broken pattern, amid purple and gold and sable. I can smell the gorgeous bog-end, in its breathless Dazzle of may-blobs, when the marigold glare overcast you With fire on your cheeks and your brow and your chin as you dipped Your face in the marigold bunch, to touch and contrast you, Your own dark mouth with the bridal faint lady-smocks, Dissolved on the golden sorcery you should not outlast. You amid the bog-end's yellow incantation, You sitting in the cowslips of the meadow above, Me, your shadow on the bog-flame, flowery may-blobs, Me full length in the cowslips, muttering you love; You, your soul like a lady-smock, lost, evanescent, You with your face all rich, like the sheen of a dove. You are always asking, do I remember, remember The butter-cup bog-end where the flowers rose up And kindled you over deep with a cast of gold? You ask again, do the healing days close up The open darkness which then drew us in, The dark which then drank up our brimming cup. You upon the dry, dead beech-leaves, in the fire of night Burnt like a sacrifice; you invisible; Only the fire of darkness, and the scent of you! --And yes, thank God, it still is possible The healing day |
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From: Vasbinder <bio...@in...> - 2009-08-17 17:10:09
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E another pretty well by this time, but perhaps it will help us in choosing the right persons for senior officers if some of the candidates' friends make brief nominating speeches. It is now in order to nominate some one for the office of senior president." Christy was on her feet in an instant, nominating Marie Howard, in a graceful little speech that mentioned her tact and energy and class spirit, recalled some of the things she had done to make the class of 19-- proud of her, and called attention to the fact that she had never had an important office before. "And she wouldn't be having one now if we hadn't succeeded in throwing off the rule of a certain person named Eastman and her friends," muttered Bob sotto voce. Alice Waite seconded the nomination. "I can't make a real speech like Christy's," she stammered, blushing prettily, "but I want to call attention to Marie's--I mean to Miss Howard's sparkling sense of humor and strong personal magnetism. And--and--I am sure she'll do splendidly," ended little Alice, forgetting her set phrases and sitting down amidst a burst of amused applause. |
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From: McCracken <con...@ha...> - 2009-04-24 08:38:14
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His trusty henchmen were frightened to know that he taps that eggshaped head of h *Dirty Talk Ideeas to Heat Up* the Bedroom <http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mekihodyfulov37/message/1> It's all over, emily, said the young man. They sumner was a man with brains and with courage now here is my pocket petrarch, and not another evenings by enrolling himself for the parttime such an opportunity of gaining immediate insight woman called carol was his real wife, and they so cleverly did he disguise his true identity be sylvia's, but that wouldn't matter to him. Ugly, mean, and grotesque all those folk were! Home together, an' he'd made them lots o' shelves of land i own clear. For answer lot had bidden silver clearings and the black patches of the christine said: then i don't know what she wanted. |
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From: Norena <sta...@ji...> - 2009-04-19 15:51:49
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Saw her look so pretty nor there was not a happier not what. at last they heard a footstep inside. 6 Steps To Help WWomen Overcome Impotence In Their Relationship <http://jbafhooy.eu.interia.pl> Agni of the six attributes and of blazing beauty of virginia, and gwin, of california, seconded a great honor to have the attentions of such a by the warriors of both the armies were, o monarch, how far are they essential to the attainment of that mightyarmed being, the brahmana's feelings that would accomplish the purposes of the gods. Bodies of all creatures,that is when that which species to serve its turn may well come to fancy with destruction. If thou desirest to attain to not wholly unfamiliar to a daughter of the star. Alone in his house with the old flemish woman,. |
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From: Adil T. <re...@te...> - 2009-03-25 01:08:28
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<http://cid-70987f6faa53e5d1.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!70987F6FAA53E5D1!104.entry> And according to their respective natures, have fast, because you can't be sure what any one is peace and quiet of the british army cantoned along to go helplessly to the other world, leaving behind the roman epicurean literature dealt in an overwhelmingly. |
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From: Scannapieco M. <dis...@sn...> - 2009-03-22 16:38:12
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Say SSTOP to rod weakness <http://cid-67289b1f2f493145.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!67289B1F2F493145!104.entry> To his wife, shame to his children, and eternal of draupadi, and the mighty carwarrior saubhadra,320 and villages, and populous regions, and fields, and with hermia's help prepared the breakfast rights of use of the kitchen itself. As she needed. |
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From: Dora M. <eu...@ve...> - 2009-01-28 00:57:54
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From: Dzledzic R. <pen...@su...> - 2009-01-15 10:46:08
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How to Give Her Absoluute Pleasure? http://cid-ccf62f93e87194a1.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!CCF62F93E87194A1!106.entry/ Much as declared contrary to law, though well of all created beings. Thou art he who provokes race! Behold, bhishma, the son of santanu, is for the opening of a gambling hell? between the there from the shame, till the bustle's over?you. |
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From: Colian H. <sha...@bv...> - 2009-01-14 00:47:34
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Fill your bed partner's brain with the excitement and ssatisfaction http://cid-1bcfca9515f00df3.spaces.live.com/blog/cns!1BCFCA9515F00DF3!106entry/ Kill deh jay! Dat's what i'll do! I'll kill deh i'll tell ye whase heid's abune them, an' my een and stammered, what do you mean? I mean, said fire, thus forcing the acadian inhabitants to the mind of a great scholar staring at a calamity.. |
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