There was an old party of Lyme Who married three wives at one time.
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At one time or another I have insulted everybody, and I am proud of that. Folks, let me sum it up for you: I think religion is bad, and drugs are good. I think America causes cancer, longevity is less important than fun and young people should be discouraged from voting. I think stereotypes are true, abstinence is a pervsion, Bush’s lies are worse than Clinton’s and there is nothing sexy about being old or pregnant. I think 9-11 changed nothing, and if I had known the onset of war would add a hundred points on to Bush’s IQ, I would have started one. I think pornography stops rape, I think AIDS ribbons are stupid, and flag burning makes me feel patriotic. I think death is not the worst thing that can happen. I think people have too much self-esteem, and being drunk is funny. I think children are not innocent, God doesn’t write books, and Jesus wasn’t a republican. I am for mad cow disease, and against suing tobacco companies. I think girls hate each other, no doesn’t always mean no, you have to lie to stay married, women’s sports are boring, and the Olympics are gay. We’ll be on for another six weeks here on ABC…
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Any great truth can -- and eventually will -- be expressed as a cliche -- a cliche is a sure and certain way to dilute an idea. For instance, my grandmother used to say, 'The black cat is always the last one off the fence.' I have no idea what she meant, but at one time, it was undoubtedly true.
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His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred.
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To associate with other like-minded people in small, purposeful groups is for the great majority of men and women a source of profound psychological satisfaction. Exclusiveness will add to the pleasure of being several, but at one; and secrecy will intensify it almost to ecstasy.
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A fishing rod is a stick with a hook at one end and a fool at the other.
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I suppose leadership at one time meant muscles; but today it means getting along with people.
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At one point, I thought that maybe humor was the best way to deal with it. I figured maybe I should get 12 old Jewish comedians, you know, Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner, to sit around a table and have them riff off 'The Protocols.
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A novel is a mirror carried along a high road. At one moment it reflects to your vision the azure skies at another the mire of the puddles at your feet. And the man who carries this mirror in his pack will be accused by you of being immoral! His mirror shews the mire, and you blame the mirror! Rather blame that high road upon which the puddle lies, still more the inspector of roads who allows the water to gather and the puddle to form.
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At one point I took on a new job, and I just didn't have time to do anything but work.
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Thus, be it understood, to demonstrate a theorem, it is neither necessary nor even advantageous to know what it means....[A] machine might be imagined where the assumptions were put in at one end, while the theorems came out at the other, like the legendary Chicago machine where the pigs go in alive and come out transformed into hams and sausages. No more than these machines need the mathematician know what he does.
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If any ambitious man have a fancy to revolutionize, at one effort, the universal world of human thought, human opinion, and human sentiment, the opportunity is his own -- the road to immortal renown lies straight, open, and unencumbered before him. All that he has to do is to write and publish a very little book. Its title should be simple -- a few plain words -- My Heart Laid Bare. But -- this little book must be true to its title.
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At one point he decided enough was enough.
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A woman lost her only son and this caused her great pain and she carried the body of her son around the village looking for someone who had a potion to bring him back to life. Someone told her that Buddha has such a potion. She found Buddha at his retreat and asked him if he had such a potion. He said that yes he does. She asked if there was any herbs she could collect to aid in it's making. Buddha said that he needed some mustard seeds. She said she would collect some mustard seeds. As she was leaving Buddha said the seeds need to come from a household that has never known death. The woman said she would find these seeds. Every home she visited had the seeds to give her, but every home had experienced death at one time. In one a mother, in another a daughter, in another a servant, and in another a husband. Finally the woman realized that no one goes through life without experiencing the pain of death. At this time she let them take the body of her son and bury him. She returned to Buddha to thank him for reminding her of this simple fact. Buddha said the realization that everyone experiences the pain of death did not ease the pain of her loss, it eased the suffering of her holding on.
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To hide a passion totally (or even to hide, more simply, its excess) is inconceivable: not because the human subject is too weak, but because passion is in essence made to be seen: the hiding must be seen: I want you to know that I am hiding something from you, that is the active paradox I must resolve: at one and the same time it must be known and not known: I want you to know that I don't want to show my feelings: that is the message I address to the other.
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Fortune's a right whore. If she give ought, she deals it in small parcels, that she may take away all at one swoop.
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Profits on the exchange are the treasures of goblins. At one time they may be carbuncle stones, then coals, then diamonds, then flint stones, then morning dew, then tears.
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Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, great as each may be, their highest comfort given to the sorrowful is a cordial introduction into another's woe. Sorrow's the great community in which all men born of woman are members at one time or another.
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At one time my only wish was to be a police official. It seemed to me to be an occupation for my sleepless intriguing mind. I had the idea that there, among criminals, were people to fight: clever, vigorous, crafty fellows. Later I realized that it was good that I did not become one, for most police cases involve misery and wretchedness -- not crimes and scandals.
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Ephesians 2:3:
All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature deserving of wrath.
(NIV)
Among these we as well as you once lived and conducted ourselves in the passions of our flesh [our behavior governed by our corrupt and sensual nature], obeying the impulses of the flesh and the thoughts of the mind [our cravings dictated by our senses and our dark imaginings]. We were then by nature children of [God's] wrath and heirs of [His] indignation, like the rest of mankind.
(AMP)
Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others.
(KJV)
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Work is the order of the day, just as it was at one time, with our first starts and our best efforts. Do you remember? Therein lies its delight. It brings back the forgotten; one's stores of energy, seemingly exhausted, come back to life.
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The moment of truth, the sudden emergence of a new insight, is an act of intuition. Such intuitions give the appearance of miraculous flushes, or short-circuits of reasoning. In fact they may be likened to an immersed chain, of which only the beginning and the end are visible above the surface of consciousness. The diver vanishes at one end of the chain and comes up at the other end, guided by invisible links.
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Nothing is poorer than a truth expressed as it was thought. Committed to writing in such cases, it is not even a bad photograph. Truth wants to be startled abruptly, at one stroke, from her self-immersion, whether by uproar, music or cries for help.
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A fretful temper will divide the closest knot that may be tied, by ceaseless sharp corrosion; a temper passionate and fierce may suddenly your joys disperse at one immense explosion.
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Government is like a baby. An alimentary canal with a loud voice at one end and no responsibility at the other.
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He was a linebacker at one point and is still learning the nuances of our scheme and what it takes to be as consistent as possible. He has a tremendous work ethic.
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No man ever achieved worth-while success who did not, at one time or other, find himself with at least one foot hanging well over the brink of failure.
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And having a strong family, you know we've lost some members of our family and had some setbacks, but I think a good family and kids all those things I thought at one time... you got to be kidding me... Those things are so important they enable you to go on.
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Sympathy is two hearts tugging at one load.
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A person in danger should not try to escape at one stroke. He should first calmly hold his own, then be satisfied with small gains, which will come by creative adaptations.
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