It seems to me curious, not to say obscene and thoroughly terrifying, that it could occur to an association of human beings drawn together through need and chance and for profit into a company, an organ of journalism, to pry intimately into the lives of an undefended and appallingly damaged group of human beings, an ignorant and helpless rural family, for the purpose of parading the nakedness, disadvantage and humiliation of these lives before another group of human beings, in the name of science, of
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Never hold discussions with the monkey when the organ grinder is in the room.
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He was a clot looking for a place to happen, a splinter of bone hunting a soft organ to puncture, a lonely lunatic cell looking for a mate.
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Hélas, if only men could love not with one half of their hearts but with the whole organ that the Lord has given them, no one would deserve t...
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Words, words, words...once, I had the gift...I could make love out of words as a potter makes cups out of clay love that overthrows empires, love that binds two hearts together come hellfire and brimstone...I could cause a riot in a nunnery...but now...I have lost my gift. It's as if my quill is broken. As if the organ of the imagination has dried up. As if the proud tower of my genius has collapsed. Nothing comes.
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I am not going to spend any time whatsoever in attacking the Foreign Secretary. If we complain about the tune, there is no reason to attack the monkey when the organ grinder is present.
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Man's great misfortune is that he has no organ, no kind of eyelid or brake, to mask or block a thought, or all thought, when he wants to.
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Yes, I think it is very clear to all of us who are engaged in the business of assessing toxicity data that, when volumes of data are proudly presented to us after a carcinogenicity study, showing that there was a tumour in this organ or that, we look at it and we scratch our heads, and we wonder what on earth we can make of it. This is especially true when huge doses are given, with nothing to suggest what would be expected at low doses. I think very often the carcinogenicity studies are a waste of everybody's time and a fearful waste of animals. They are conducted partly because we are not sure what to do instead, and partly because they are a political gesture and a very miserable one at that.
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There are marked differences in carcinogenicity across sexes, strains and species. Often, the-same chemical will cause one kind of cancer in one experiment and another kind in another experiment Indeed, the most hard-bitten advocates of animal experiments do not claim to be able to predict which organ will be affected in humans by a chemical that is carcinogenic in animals.
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Scepticism, as I said, is not intellectual only; it is moral also; a chronic atrophy and disease of the whole soul. A man lives by believing something; not by debating and arguing about many things. A sad case for him when all that he can manage to believe is something he can button in his pocket, and with one or the other organ eat and digest! Lower than that he will not get.
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The only bodily organ which is really regarded as inferior is the atrophied penis, a girl's clitoris.
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… Predictions of carcinogenicity from laboratory animals are without meaning for there is no evidence that the studies were conducted in a way that took into consideration the pharmacodynamics in the species investigated, or with any appreciation of end organ sensitivity (with respect to contraceptive steroids).
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It takes little talent to see clearly what lies under one's nose, a good deal of it to know in which direction to point that organ.
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The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working the moment you get up and does not stop until you get into the office.
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The poet knows that he speaks adequately, then, only when he speaks somewhat wildly, or, with the flower of the mind; not with the intellect, used as an organ, but with the intellect released from all service, and suffered to take its direction fro
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Grant that the true organ with which the beautiful is apprehended is the imagination, and it follows that all arts are likely to affect the feelings indirectly.
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In that reconciling of God and Mammon which Mrs. Grantly had carried on so successfully in the education of her daughter, the organ had not be...
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It takes little talent to see what lies under one's nose, a good deal to know in what direction to point that organ.
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I'll give you my opinion of the human race in a nutshell... their heart's in the right place, but their head is a thoroughly inefficient organ.
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The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
Work
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The brain is a wonderful organ. It starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
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The brain is a wonderful organ it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office.
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The brain is a wonderful organ; it starts working the moment you get up in the morning and does not stop until you get into the office
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1 Corinthians 12:14:
Even so the body is not made up of one part but of many.
(NIV)
For the body does not consist of one limb or organ but of many.
(AMP)
For the body is not one member, but many.
(KJV)
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Your brain is that bodily organ which starts working the moment you awake and does not stop until you get into the office.
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To me the sole hope of human salvation lies in teaching Man to regard himself as an experiment in the realization of God, to regard his hands as God's hand, his brain as God's brain, his purpose as God's purpose. He must regard God as a helpless Longing, which longed him into existence by its desperate need for an executive organ.
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The human brain is a wonderful organ. It starts to work as soon as you are born and doesn't stop until you get up to deliver a speech.
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Organ transplants are best left to the professionals
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