欧宝娱乐

“The fact that a man who goes his own way ends in ruin means nothing ... He must obey his own law, as if it were a daemon whispering to him of new and wonderful paths ... There are not a few who are called awake by the summons of the voice, whereupon they are at once set apart from the others, feeling themselves confronted with a problem about which the others know nothing. In most cases it is impossible to explain to the others what has happened, for any understanding is walled off by impenetrable prejudices. "You are no different from anybody else," they will chorus or, "there's no such thing," and even if there is such a thing, it is immediately branded as "morbid"...He is at once set apart and isolated, as he has resolved to obey the law that commands him from within. "His own law!" everybody will cry. But he knows better: it is the law...The only meaningful life is a life that strives for the individual realization 鈥� absolute and unconditional鈥� of its own particular law ... To the extent that a man is untrue to the law of his being ... he has failed to realize his own life's meaning.”
― Carl Jung

“More recently, books, especially paperbacks, have been printed in massive and inexpensive editions. For the price of a modest meal you can ponder the decline and fall of the Roman Empire, the origin of species, the interpretation of dreams, the nature of things. Books are like seeds. They can lie dormant for centuries and then flower in the most unpromising soil.”
― Carl Sagan, Cosmos

“But the trouble with sainthood these days is the robe-and-halo imagery that gets stuck onto it." Carl got that brooding look again. "People forget that robes were street clothes once... and still are, in a lot of places. And halos are to that fierce air of innocence what speech balloons in comics are to the sound of the voice itself. Shorthand. But most people just see an old symbol and don't bother looking behind it for the meaning. Sainthood starts to look old-fashioned, unattainable... even repellent. Actually, you can see it all around, once you learn to spot it.”
― Diane Duane, A Wizard Alone

“Did you hear something?"

"No."

"Did I hear something?"

"...I don't know...”
― Matt Groening

“It was difficult to hold Broca's brain without wondering whether in some sense Broca was still in there鈥攈is wit, his skeptical mien, his abrupt gesticulations when he talked, his quiet and sentimental moments.”
― Carl Sagan, Broca's Brain: Reflections on the Romance of Science

“Jesus! We can't just sit here and twiddle our thumbs. Who's the brains of this outfit, anyway?"
"I think that was Shaw," Carl said wryly as his mind landed on an idea. "Before he went mad' that is. Now I suppose it's you, God help us. "
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Shawn asked in a hurt voice. "I've not gone mad!"
"Uh huh. What's the plan, Dixie?" Carl asked as he spared Shawn a glance before turning his gaze back on Remy. Remy blinked at him.
"You can't put him in charge," Shawn protested. "We'll be in the shit and he'll stop to get an ice cream, for fuck's sake!"
"What's wrong with ice cream?" Remy asked in an insulted voice.
"I think you missed the point of the comment," Thiago muttered as he sat down in the kitchen besid Nikolaus.”
― Abigail Roux, The Archer

“He'd just called Shawn a bottom, though, and Shawn looked pissed. Call Remy a bottom and he would jump you and let you screw his brains out. Call Thiago a bottom and he would look at you for five minutes, shrug, and the go about his business. Call Nikolaus a bottom and he might cry. Call Brandt a bottom and you might get a blowjob, you might just get blown up. But call Shawn a bottom?
Carl supposed he was about to find out what happened when you called Shawn a bottom.”
― Abigail Roux, The Archer

“The sun beasts the shit out of a dirty road called Raton Pass where the closest thing to a pair of matching earring is a guy named Carl who punches you in the head with his fist.”
― Amelia Gray, Gutshot

“Things had been falling down since the beginning of time.”
― Carl Sagan, Cosmos

“My mother鈥檚 true appeal went beyond the clash of the beautiful trust fund darling as the arm candy of an overweight trailer salesman. Carl grew up in harsh, chaotic poverty. His escape was the alcoholism that was conceived during puberty and flourished throughout adulthood. His initial career was a diesel mechanic wearing faded coveralls with oil up his nails and sweat on his brow. His earliest homes were the dingy trailers he would later profit from. His first marriage was doused with benders, acid trips, and sex crazed parties packed with orgies with a first wife who鈥檇 lost track of number of dicks shoved down her throat in the midst of intoxication. I don鈥檛 know what sparked his revelation, but at some point, Carl decided to fiercely pursue the world he envied. He wanted a life of starched, white shirts, ties, SUVs, and picket fences. He ached for the scent of steaks grilling on his sunny patio. He dreamed of white-collar southern beauty and my mother, in all her na茂ve innocence, was the loveliest possession he could ever obtain.”
― Magda Young

“He decorated his accomplishments with a large house, yachts, and weekly morale shindigs for his salesmen bursting with open bars and filet mignon. However, my mother was by far his prettiest accessory.”
― Maggie Young, Just Another Number

“While there are deeper regularities in the Universe than the simple circumstances we generally describe as orderly, all that order, simple and complex, seems to derive from laws of Nature established at the Big Bang (or earlier), rather than as a consequence of belated intervention by an imperfect deity. 鈥淕od is to be found in the details鈥� is the famous dictum of the German scholar Aby Warburg. But, amid much elegance and precision, the details of life and the Universe also exhibit haphazard, jury-rigged arrangements and much poor planning. What shall we make of this: an edifice abandoned early in construction by the architect? The evidence, so far at least and laws of Nature aside, does not require a Designer. Maybe there is one hiding, maddeningly unwilling to be revealed. Sometimes it seems a very slender hope. The significance of our lives and our fragile planet is then determined only by our own wisdom and courage. We are the custodians of life鈥檚 meaning. We long for a Parent to care for us, to forgive us our errors, to save us from our childish mistakes. But knowledge is preferable to ignorance. Better by far to embrace the hard truth than a reassuring fable. If we crave some cosmic purpose, then let us find ourselves a worthy goal.
--Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space”
― Sagan, Carl; Druyan, Ann

“So how long do I have before鈥攚hat were their names? Carl and Rosa? Yeah, that鈥檚 them. How long do I have before they come back?鈥�
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know. Maybe...maybe an hour or so?鈥� My hands felt incredibly small in his.
That lopsided grin was back. 鈥淚 doubt they鈥檇 be happy to find me here.鈥�
鈥淲丑测?鈥�
His brows rose. 鈥淢aybe I鈥檓 wrong. They used to coming home to find some strange guy sitting on their couch?鈥�
I rolled my eyes.
鈥淭hat鈥檚 it, isn鈥檛 it?鈥� Rider tugged on my hands, and I rose, letting him pull me down to the couch beside him. He leaned back, sliding one arm around my shoulders and tucking me against his side. 鈥淛ust par for the course with you, huh?鈥�
I didn鈥檛 know what to do with my hands since he鈥檇 let go of them, so I folded them in my lap. 鈥淚鈥檝e never had a...guy here.鈥�
Rider stiffened and then he twisted his neck so he was looking at me.
Did I seriously admit that out loud? Squeezing my eyes shut, I sighed. 鈥淚鈥檓 just...going to shut up now.鈥�
He chuckled. 鈥淒on鈥檛 do that. I like listening to you talk.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, The Problem with Forever

“..."袝写懈薪 胁械谢懈泻 写褍褏 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪械 械 薪邪锌褗谢薪芯 褟褋械薪." 孝芯胁邪 械 胁褟褉薪芯, 懈 褌芯褔薪芯 褌邪泻邪 械 褋 械写薪芯 胁械谢懈泻芯 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯 - 褌芯 薪懈泻芯谐邪 薪械 械 褋褗胁褋械屑 褟褋薪芯. 效芯胁械泻 褋械 薪邪褋谢邪卸写邪胁邪 薪邪 械写薪芯 懈褋褌懈薪褋泻芯 褔褍胁褋褌胁芯, 泻芯谐邪褌芯 褌芯 械 屑褗薪懈褔泻芯 褋褗屑薪懈褌械谢薪芯, 邪 锌褗泻 屑懈褋褗谢, 胁 泻芯褟褌芯 薪褟屑邪 锌芯薪械 屑邪谢泻芯 锌褉芯褌懈胁芯褉械褔懈械, 薪械 械 褍斜械写懈褌械谢薪邪.”
― C.G. Jung, 袟邪 芯褋薪芯胁懈褌械 薪邪 邪薪邪谢懈褌懈褔薪邪褌邪 锌褋懈褏芯谢芯谐懈褟

“...Die digitale Welt ist l盲ngst die reale Welt!"
Noch zwei St眉hle, die er an der Tischkante ausrichtet.
"Wie es au脽erhalb dieser Welt geht, kannst du an jedem Hinterw盲ldler oder Obdachlosen auf der Stra脽e feststellen. Es hei脽t entweder drinnen oder drau脽en, ein oder aus, 1 oder 0. Das ist das Wesen der digitalen Welt, denn sie kennt keine dritte M枚glichkeit. Damit ist es heute auch das Wesen der gesamten Welt. Sie kennt kein bisschen, kein Vielleicht, kein Weder-Noch, keine Zwischent枚ne."
Zwei weitere St眉hle, damit stehen alle leeren St眉hle im gleichen Abstand parallel zur Tischkante.
"Das enstpricht ohnehin der Weise, wie die Menschen ihre Welt ordnen: schwaz-wei脽, gut-schlecht. Wie wussten schon Jesus und Pr盲sident Bush: 'Wer nicht f眉r mich ist, ist gegen mich.'">”
― Marc Elsberg, ZERO

“It wasn鈥檛 really a loud-mouthed, hyperactive little pig-tailed blonde that made Carl cringe. It was what I represented. While his upbringing was battered humiliation, I was spoiled, doted on, and spoon-fed by the world. I don鈥檛 think he was even aware of his intentions to reduce that child to his own state of self-loathing, but he was truly brilliant at it.”
― Maggie Young, Just Another Number

“Carl discreetly turned his head to the left and then the right to make sure Mom wasn鈥檛 within hearing range.
鈥淚 tried to stick it in er ass once and she didn鈥檛 speak to me for a week,鈥� he nearly whispered before belting out a slur of loose chuckles. 鈥淎nd gettin鈥� 鈥榚r to do ya on top? Forget about it!鈥�
In ways, I morphed into Carl鈥檚 description of the ideal woman. Like Mom, physical beauty was my ultimate priority. I spent hours on end stripped naked, posing in front of my full length bedroom mirror at every angle so that each wrinkle, roll, and pinch of fat could receive sharp scrutiny before I strived for complete self annihilation. I made it a habit of studying every Teen magazine model and the skinniest cheerleaders in my middle school yearbook. I observed their arms, legs, and hips. I held their images against mine with a goal for my bones to protrude further and calves spread further apart when standing straight. However, I saw the way Carl bent his head down and lowered his voice when he spoke about Mom, as if it was our job to keep a feisty, barking puppy believing that it was our guard dog.
鈥淯re mom can鈥檛 help she got half ure I-Q,鈥� Carl would chuckle.”
― Maggie Young, Just Another Number

“Carl constantly told horror stories of cursing and beatings from his father and the twenty-four-hour blackout screaming of his alcoholic, pill-popping mother. He used his trauma like a caution sign for what he could do if I didn鈥檛 silence my backtalk.”
― Maggie Young, Just Another Number

“Carl M酶rck, am I disturbing you? said a voice at the door, which made his blood boil and turn to ice at the same time. His spinal cord sent five commands through his infrastructure: get rid of the eraser, cover the last line, put away the cigarette, drop the stupid facial expression, close your mouth!”
― Jussi Adler-Olsen, Disgrace