If it weren't for the simplicity of light and shade, whole worlds would not be ruled but eternally in complexity.
Society is no dumb experiment without an evil laboratory technician.
We are all impoverished, where divine leadership concerns the lowly, but some of us find order in the meekness.
In matters of difficulty, to formulate is the thing that functions best.
Human nature is suppressed behind a veil of benevolent artificiality; its necessity always producing a truth for generations of its contingency to take note of in any era.
Advisement is the form of rule one uses to look beyond the manifest creator of ideas of craziness, to seek that others might own them, for their minds, instead.
No one suspects having had happened across one's worst enemies plans when praising the divine, yet everyone offers willingly such blueprints to the same audience when the same praise is misunderstood. Its harder for a snake to bite its own tail than to loose one's own desire for youth, but then neither of these things are too difficult.
Civilisation maintains a principle of normality as cannot be enforced, but that, conspicuously, it becomes unto a secretive nature, as too often errs to override its truth rather than to contain its lie.
The conceit, as believes a lie -a worse such thing, as fault -than were it to be true- is a mirror, to look upon, for such things as are but only flaws.
Were it but that such ideas were open to question, for different classes of object and their subjective interpretation, a mob could plan a dream that they were kings, and kings but lowly puppets.
The escape route of being civilised is so too often imitated that it soon becomes its prison-hold, and what was once a blessing of an imagination, more fertile than feedings' need, then, becomes, a garden, overgrown with weeds.
It ought surprise us nothing, while there is as much complexity -at least- in the mind, as in the body -as each part of the body is connected -at least once- to the mind- that mind ought be allowed to function with the same normalities as has allowed cultures of our bodies to become quite a subject of mind's humour.
God's truths are simple, not in substance - but in style.
Tisn't easier to bully a reflection of youth, as physics discriminates not, and so a memory of youth is neither simpler to fool.
That we are censured in such things -ought strike us as more strange- than that ever we had cowardice to express our most innate feelings about God.
Oh no I'm left with the last word in argument, but yet the confusion reigns on!
The omelettes made by breaking the proverb's eggs were all vegetarian, obviously.
They're coming for you, bumblebees; the sunflowers and the daffodils, united, marching through the trees...There's a million things I'd do sooner than to entertain a state of disbelief.
Whenever it turns around, that words stare man's wit in the face -rather than, through need of norms in man's reticent nature: language, being, as it is- the accidence of his cleverness becomes as clear as his flaws.
I could feel feathers rustling, in my subconscious, as yearning, in their purpose -for ink- to become my necessity, whereupon the papal visit to a revolutionary, I did solemnly reflect. My imaginary crown did seem to fashion itself from newspapermen, whereupon the periscope of the submarine of the royal carriage of secrecy, I did furtively spy. With my bemused wonder, like the sort, perhaps, as has a pigeon for a piece of bread, I did subtly remark upon a question as struck me as time it were asked...whoever checks the dogs and the bumblebees when Noah must take their boarding passes?
As with the duty of any soldier, if made a prisoner of war, to escape - so it is the unconscionable goal of any civilian, if imprisoned, to discover by which such war they can be made so dutiful:- and, thus, if this is successful, redefine the art of civilisation.
Society is no dumb experiment without an evil laboratory technician.
We are all impoverished, where divine leadership concerns the lowly, but some of us find order in the meekness.
In matters of difficulty, to formulate is the thing that functions best.
Human nature is suppressed behind a veil of benevolent artificiality; its necessity always producing a truth for generations of its contingency to take note of in any era.
Advisement is the form of rule one uses to look beyond the manifest creator of ideas of craziness, to seek that others might own them, for their minds, instead.
No one suspects having had happened across one's worst enemies plans when praising the divine, yet everyone offers willingly such blueprints to the same audience when the same praise is misunderstood. Its harder for a snake to bite its own tail than to loose one's own desire for youth, but then neither of these things are too difficult.
Civilisation maintains a principle of normality as cannot be enforced, but that, conspicuously, it becomes unto a secretive nature, as too often errs to override its truth rather than to contain its lie.
The conceit, as believes a lie -a worse such thing, as fault -than were it to be true- is a mirror, to look upon, for such things as are but only flaws.
Were it but that such ideas were open to question, for different classes of object and their subjective interpretation, a mob could plan a dream that they were kings, and kings but lowly puppets.
The escape route of being civilised is so too often imitated that it soon becomes its prison-hold, and what was once a blessing of an imagination, more fertile than feedings' need, then, becomes, a garden, overgrown with weeds.
It ought surprise us nothing, while there is as much complexity -at least- in the mind, as in the body -as each part of the body is connected -at least once- to the mind- that mind ought be allowed to function with the same normalities as has allowed cultures of our bodies to become quite a subject of mind's humour.
God's truths are simple, not in substance - but in style.
Tisn't easier to bully a reflection of youth, as physics discriminates not, and so a memory of youth is neither simpler to fool.
That we are censured in such things -ought strike us as more strange- than that ever we had cowardice to express our most innate feelings about God.
Oh no I'm left with the last word in argument, but yet the confusion reigns on!
The omelettes made by breaking the proverb's eggs were all vegetarian, obviously.
They're coming for you, bumblebees; the sunflowers and the daffodils, united, marching through the trees...There's a million things I'd do sooner than to entertain a state of disbelief.
Whenever it turns around, that words stare man's wit in the face -rather than, through need of norms in man's reticent nature: language, being, as it is- the accidence of his cleverness becomes as clear as his flaws.
I could feel feathers rustling, in my subconscious, as yearning, in their purpose -for ink- to become my necessity, whereupon the papal visit to a revolutionary, I did solemnly reflect. My imaginary crown did seem to fashion itself from newspapermen, whereupon the periscope of the submarine of the royal carriage of secrecy, I did furtively spy. With my bemused wonder, like the sort, perhaps, as has a pigeon for a piece of bread, I did subtly remark upon a question as struck me as time it were asked...whoever checks the dogs and the bumblebees when Noah must take their boarding passes?
As with the duty of any soldier, if made a prisoner of war, to escape - so it is the unconscionable goal of any civilian, if imprisoned, to discover by which such war they can be made so dutiful:- and, thus, if this is successful, redefine the art of civilisation.
The divine purpose in prohibiting to women the rights afforded to men might just be to redeem those rights in reclaiming them, and more.
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