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Sugar
“The Oak Forest mushrooms for the langoustine didn't arrive in time, so we've substituted with enoki mushrooms from Champagne Farms. Also, we are adding an entrée to the menu tonight. It's lemon pine-nut-encrusted sea scallops with a celery mousse and my signature vinaigrette. It took three months to get it right, and the end result is phenomenal. So sell it." Alain paused while the servers took notes. "In wines, we're out of the Napa Valley El Molino, the Talenti, and the Chateau Margeaux '86."
Alain paused and, while the servers wrote furiously in their pads, my thoughts wandered. I tried picturing the customers who might have opinions about Oak Forest mushrooms compared to those from Champagne Farms. Did they wear tweed and bifocals? Or were they übermodern with sculpured haircuts and electronic cigarettes? I shook my head, annoyed with myself and my train of thought.
Let the mushroom people be mushroom people
, I chastised myself.
You signed up for this gig, Charlie, remember? You're living your dream, remember?
Alain changed gears for a second and threw out a quiz question, one of his more sadistic rituals during family meal. "What are the six ingredients in the jalapeño emulsion we serve with the salmon?"
Silence. A blonde in the back ventured, "Jalapeño, olive oil, shallots...?"
More silence.
"Fleur de sel, ground pepper, lemon juice," Alain finished for her, giving her an icy glance over his bearish nose. "Wake up, people. All right, here's an easy one. What's the difference between
jamón ibérico
and prosciutto?"
Four hands went up, and Wade got it right.
"
Jamón ibérico
is dry-cured from black Iberian pigs in Spain, not to be confused with
jamón serrano
, which comes from a less expensive white pig. Prosciutto is also dry-cured, but it is from Italy. It is the common man's gourmet ham, which is why we don't serve it." Wade finished with a cock of the head and a high-five with another server.
Alain snorted. "Thank you for the editorial comment. Please keep it to yourself, however, when recommending the melon and
jamón ibérico
appetizer."
He spent the next five minutes grilling the staff on the origin of our rice vinegar, what dessert wine paired best with Felix's raspberry brûlée, and the correct serving temperature of the parsnip purée.”
Questions
Foodie
Ingredients
Mushrooms
Wines
Ham
Restaurant Life
Agile Transformation: A Brief Story of How an Entertainment Company Developed New Capabilities and Unlocked Business Agility to Thrive in an Era of Rapid Change
“By adopting an agile mindset and providing improved engagement, collaboration, transparency, and adaptability via Scrum's values, roles, events, and artifacts, the results were excellent.”
Technology
Quote
Quotes
Transformation
Leadership
Project Management
Agile
Scrum
Agile Coach
The Wars
“The mud. There are no good similes. Mud must be a Flemish word. Mud was invented here. Mudland must have been its name. The ground is the colour of steel. Over most of the plain there isn't a trace of topsoil; only sand and clay. The Belgians call them 'clyttes', these fields, and the further you go towards the sea, the worse the clyttes become. In them, the water is reached by the plough at an average depth of eighteen inches. When it rains (which is almost constantly from early September through to March, except when it snows) the water rises at you out of the ground. It rises from your footprints-and an army marching over a field can cause a flood. In 1916, it was said that you 'waded to the front'. Men and horses sank from sight. They drowned in mud. Their graves, it seemed, just dug themselves and pulled them down.”
The Wars
“To understand, I destroyed myself. To understand is to forget about loving. I know nothing more simultaneously false and telling than the statement by Leonardo da Vinci that we cannot love or hate something until we’ve understood it.
Solitude devastates me; company oppresses me. The presence of another person derails my thoughts; I dream of the other’s presence with a strange absent-mindedness that no amount of my analytical scrutiny can define.
Isolation has carved me in its image and likeness. The presence of another person – of any person whatsoever – instantly slows down my thinking, and while for a normal man contact with others is a stimulus to spoken expression and wit, for me it is a counterstimulus, if this compound word be linguistically permissible. When all by myself, I can think of all kinds of clever remarks, quick comebacks to what no one said, and flashes of witty sociability with nobody. But all of this vanishes when I face someone in the flesh: I lose my intelligence, I can no longer speak, and after half an hour I just feel tired. Yes, talking to people makes me feel like sleeping. Only my ghostly and imaginary friends, only the conversations I have in my dreams, are genuinely real and substantial, and in them intelligence gleams like an image in a mirror.
The mere thought of having to enter into contact with someone else makes me nervous. A simple invitation to have dinner with a friend produces an anguish in me that’s hard to define. The idea of any social obligation whatsoever – attending a funeral, dealing with someone about an office matter, going to the station to wait for someone I know or don’t know – the very idea disturbs my thoughts for an entire day, and sometimes I even start worrying the night before, so that I sleep badly. When it takes place, the dreaded encounter is utterly insignificant, justifying none of my anxiety, but the next time is no different: I never learn to learn.
‘My habits are of solitude, not of men.’ I don’t know if it was Rousseau or Senancour who said this. But it was some mind of my species, it being perhaps too much to say of my race.”
The Book Of Disquiet
The Game Changer
“I failed you that night, Cassie. I’ll never forgive myself for not making sure you were safe and protected. That should have never happened to you. And it won’t ever happen again. I promised you I’d never let anyone hurt you like that. Just let me keep my fucking promise to you”
Theperfectgame
Jackcarter
Thegamechanger
The Science of Successful Organizational Change: How Leaders Set Strategy, Change Behavior, and Create an Agile Culture
“Leadership must evolve into a “science-based craft”, like surgery.”
Science And Change
Change Leadership
21st Century Leadership
Science Based Craft
A Court of Silver Flames
“You'll be staying in your old room.'
As if she had any sort of claim on this place. On anywhere at all.
He went on, 'My room's a level above that.'
'Why would I need to know that?' The words snapped out of her.
He began walking toward the glass doors that led into the mountain's interior. 'In case you have a bad dream and need someone to read you a story,' he drawled, a half smile dancing on his face. 'Maybe one of those smutty books you like so much.”
Funny
Sarah J Maas
Bedtime Story
Teasing
Smut
Cassian
Nesta Archeron
Nesta
A Court Of Silver Flames
Sleeping Arrangements
The Girl With The Invincible Blood
“Sheba smiled. “Do you judge me based on my frail appearance? Looks are deceiving.”
Deceiving Looks
The Secret Scroll
“Who's your friend?" Zoe asked Stanton. She glanced at Catty's moon amulet and then her eyes bore into Catty's.
"Zoe," Stanton said. "I want you to meet your daughter."
Zoe glanced at Stanton in disbelief, then stared at Catty in openmouthed wonder. Her hand reached out and caressed Catty's cheek, touched her lips, and smoothed back her hair. "I see your father in your face," she uttered more to herself than to Catty. Then a slight smile crossed her lips. "I give you away and you return to me the same day. At least I know you do make it safely into the future." She started to embrace Catty.”
Time Travel
Mother And Daughter
Reuniting
Catty Turner
Zoe Reese
Persuasion
“Não posso mais escutar em silêncio. Preciso lhe falar com os meios dos quais disponho. A senhorita me dilacera a alma. Estou dividido entre a agonia e a esperança. Não me diga que chego tarde, que aqueles tão preciosos sentimentos desapareceram para sempre. Ofereço-me outra vez à senhorita com um coração ainda mais seu do que quando a senhora quase o partiu, a oito anos e meio atrás. Não se atreva a dizer que o homem esquece com mais facilidade do que a mulher, que o seu amor morre mais cedo. Nunca amei ninguém além da senhorita.”
Amor
Paixão
Declaração
Family Don't End with Blood: Cast and Fans on How Supernatural Has Changed Lives
“The truth is, I showed a bunch of strangers the broken, fragile, cussing, awkward, overly energetic creature that is in my heart, and they said "Yes!" and quit being strangers. I found the identity I had been searching for. It turned out to be me.”
Supernatural
Family Don T End With Blood
“İyi bir eğitim almak iyi bir şanstır! Ve iyi bir eğitim nedir? İçinde yaşadığı sistemden şüphe edebilecek ve eğer sistem kötüyse ona karşı başkaldırabilecek ve öteki zihinlerden - hangi konuda olursa olsun - emir almayı reddedebilecek bağımsız bir zihne sahip olmaktır!”
Eğitim
Zihin
Emir Almak
Mehmet Murat Ildan Sözleri
Bağımsız Zihin
Şüphe Etmek
Treatment of Complex Trauma: A Sequenced, Relationship-Based Approach
“The development of a working alliance is crucial because it addresses a psychic phobia associated with relationships that is common in complex trauma clients. As we discussed, when primary relationships are sources of profound disillusionment, betrayal, and emotional pain, any subsequent relationship with an authority figure who offers an emotional bond or other assistance might be met with a range of emotions, such as fear, suspicion, anger, or hopelessness on the negative end of the continuum and idealization, hope, overdependence, and entitlement on the positive. Therapy offers a compensatory relationship, albeit within a professional framework, that has differences from and restrictions not found in other relationships. On the one hand, the therapist works within professional and ethical boundaries and limitations in a role of higher status and education and is therefore somewhat unattainable for the client. On the other, the therapist's ethical and professional mandate is the welfare of the client, creating a perception of an obligation to meet the client's needs and solve his or her problems. Furthermore, the therapist is expected to both respect the client's privacy and accept emotional and behavioral difficulties without judgment, while simultaneously being entitled to ask the client about his or her most personal and distressing feelings, thoughts and experiences. Developing a sense of trust in the therapist, therefore, is both expected and fraught with inherent difficulties that are amplified by each client's unique history of betrayal trauma, loss, and relational distress.”
Relationships
Therapy
Complex Trauma
Relational Trauma
The Great Silence
“The hush of the night sky is the silence of a graveyard.”
Loneliness
Silence
Night
The Universe
Night Sky
Graveyards
Fermi Paradox
The Little White Bird
“The only ghosts, I believe, who creep into this world, are dead
young mothers, returned to see how their children fare. There is
no other inducement great enough to bring the departed back.
They glide into the acquainted room when day and night, their
jailers, are in the grip, and whisper, "How is it with you, my
child?" but always, lest a strange face should frighten him, they
whisper it so low that he may not hear. They bend over him to
see that he sleeps peacefully, and replace his sweet arm beneath
the coverlet, and they open the drawers to count how many little
vests he has. They love to do these things.
What is saddest about ghosts is that they may not know their
child. They expect him to be just as he was when they left him,
and they are easily bewildered, and search for him from room to
room, and hate the unknown boy he has become. Poor, passionate
souls, they may even do him an injury. These are the ghosts that
go wailing about old houses, and foolish wild stories are
invented to explain what is all so pathetic and simple. I know
of a man who, after wandering far, returned to his early home to
pass the evening of his days in it, and sometimes from his chair
by the fire he saw the door open softly and a woman's face
appear. She always looked at him very vindictively, and then
vanished. Strange things happened in this house. Windows were
opened in the night. The curtains of his bed were set fire to.
A step on the stair was loosened. The covering of an old well in
a corridor where he walked was cunningly removed. And when he
fell ill the wrong potion was put in the glass by his bedside,
and he died. How could the pretty young mother know that this
grizzled interloper was the child of whom she was in search?
All our notions about ghosts are wrong. It is nothing so petty
as lost wills or deeds of violence that brings them back, and we
are not nearly so afraid of them as they are of us.”
Death
Ghosts
Mothers And Children
The Devil's Highway: A True Story
“Men stumbled away toward illusions in the brutal light. Men thought they were home, walking into their front doors, hugging their wives, making love. Still they walked. Men were swimming. Men were killing Mendez. Men were on the beach, collecting shells and watching their children splash. Their women stood naked before them, soft bellies, hands on ribs, breasts. Men hid their faces from a furious God. And they walked.
A voice was heard in the light-shatter, saying “He’s going to die. Lay him down here and let him die. Keep walking.”
The desert, out of focus and suddenly terribly sharp, burst white and yellow in their eyes. It tilted. Elongated. It was at an impossible angle! It tipped up towards the sun, and if they didn’t crawl, they would slide right off it and fall forever. It made noise: there were engines beneath the desert. It made evil grinding noises, mechanical humming. No, it was insectile, the screech of hunger and derision. The devils were under the rocks, spitting insults. The black head laughed. I believe in God the father, creator of heaven and earth. No, it did not fucking laugh—- it was silent as a graveyard out there. Just the crunch and slide, crunch and slide, of endless hopeless footsteps. Hundreds of footsteps.”
Death
Desert
Immigration
Border Crossing
The Midnight Library
“Equidistant. Such a neutral, mathematical kind of word, and one that became a stuck thought, repeating itself like a manic meditation as she used the last of her strength to stay almost exactly where she was. Equidistant. Equidistant. Equidistant. Not aligned to one bank or the other. That was how she had felt most of her life. Caught in the middle. Struggling, flailing, just trying to survive while not knowing which way to go. Which path to commit to without regret.”
Regrets
Stuck In The Middle
Not Choosing
“The Environmental Movement’s Retreat from Advocating U.S. Population Stabilization (1970–1998): A First Draft of History by Roy Beck and Leon Kolankiewicz
The overwhelmingly non-Hispanic, white leadership of the environmental movement may have felt it was defensible to address population growth as long as the great bulk of this growth came from non-Hispanic whites, which it did during the Baby Boom. But the situation changed dramatically after1972. From that year forward, the fertility of non-Hispanic whites was below the replacement rate, while that of black Americans and Latinos remained well above the replacement rate. To talk of fertility reductions after 1972 was to draw disproportionate attention to nonwhites. Certain minorities and their spokespersons—with long memories of disgraceful treatment by the white majority and acutely aware of their comparative powerlessness in American society—were deeply suspicious of possible hidden agendas in the population stabilization movement. As the Reverend Jesse Jackson told the Rockefeller Commission, “our community is suspect of any programs that would have the effect of either reducing or levelling off our population growth. Virtually all the security we have is in the number of children we produce.” And Manuel Aragon, speaking in Spanish, declared to the Commission: “what we must do is to encourage large Mexican American families so that we will eventually be so numerous that the system will either respond or it will be overwhelmed.” During the twenty-six years after 1972, the non-Hispanic white share of population growth declined significantly from the 1970 era. Thus, by the 1990s, a majority of the nation’s growth stemmed from sources other than non-Hispanic whites (especially Latin American and Asian immigrants and their offspring). Environmentalist leaders—proud and protective of their claim to the moral high ground—may have been reluctant to jeopardize this by venturing into the political minefield of the nation’s volatile racial/ethnic relations through appearing to point fingers at “outsiders,” “others,” or “people of color” as responsible for America’s ongoing problem with population growth.”
Immigration
Overpopulation
Ethnic Politics
Zero Population Growth
The Anti-Social Family
“Page 78
The family sucks the juice out of everything around it, leaving other institutions stunted and distorted.
Page 75
Deep-seated differences between the sexes do tend to be reproduced from generation to generation by the fact that children are reared by a pair of differentiated parents and the parameters of their sexual orientation are set in the context of their early relations with those parents. But our unbalanced pattern of sexuality is also an integral part of a thriving marriage system that still enshrines male power and female dependence. Until that form of family disappears, sexual enjoyment will continue to be a male privilege and it will continue to take the form of sexual possession. Clearly, then, it remains necessary, as the early socialists recognized, to separate sex love from these economic ties and allow it to flourish in its own right.
Page 52-53
The Oneida community, founded in New York State in 1848, consciously rejected the family and marriage as being inimical to a full communal life. The biblical text, ‘In heaven they neither marry nor are given in marriage’, was taken as justification for ‘complex marriage’ in which all the men and women of the community were joined. Heterosexual relations between any of them were encouraged; long-term pairing was discouraged. Children were cared for in a children’s house soon after they were weaned, visiting their own parents only once or twice a week. Their founder John Humphrey Noyes saw a very clear contradiction between intense family feelings and community feeling. He believed that ‘the great problem of socialism now is, whether the existence of the marital family is compatible with that of the universal family, which the term “community” signifies.”
Family
Marxism
Patriarchy
“I find feminism in smiles of a country girl not in Woolf’s artworks.”
Feminism
Feminism Identity
Feminismo
Woolf Quotations
Country Quotes
Crime and Punishment
“—Sangre…, sangre… —exclamó el joven con creciente vehemencia—. Todo el mundo la ha derramado. La sangre ha corrido siempre en oleadas sobre la tierra. Los hombres que la vierten como el agua obtienen un puesto en el Capitolio y el título de bienhechores de la humanidad. Analiza un poco las cosas antes de juzgarlas. Yo deseaba el bien de la humanidad, y centenares de miles de buenas acciones habrían compensado ampliamente esta única necedad, mejor dicho, esta torpeza, pues la idea no era tan necia como ahora parece. Cuando fracasan, incluso los mejores proyectos parecen estúpidos. Yo pretendía solamente obtener la independencia, asegurar mis primeros pasos en la vida. Después lo habría reparado todo con buenas acciones de gran alcance. Pero fracasé desde el primer momento, y por eso me consideran un miserable. Si hubiese triunfado, me habrían tejido coronas; en cambio, ahora creen que sólo sirvo para que me echen a los perros.”
Humanity
Society
Lessons
Crime
Filosofía
Bound by Duty
“I had to be the only person on the planet capable of pissing off every guy in my life on the same day while managing to get them to all lie to each other - while lying to them my self.”
Amelia
Bound By Duty
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Attorney
Lawyer
Dwi
Driving Under The Influence
Driving While Intoxicated
Dui
Dui Attorney
Dui Lawyer
Dwi Attorney
Dwi Lawyer
Spellbound
“Iain MacGregor,” she whispered longingly, looking up. The woods were quiet. Strips of moonlight shone through tree limbs that reached like surreal black fingertips across her vision. A single tear slid down her cheek. She touched her mouth, imagining his kiss.
Taking a small pocket knife out of her cargo pants, she looked about. A mystic had once told her that if she left pieces of herself around while she lived, it would expand her haunting territory when she died. Jane wasn’t sure she believed in sideshow magic tricks—or the Old Magick as the mystic had spelled it on her sign. She had no idea what had possessed her to talk to the palm reader and ask about ghosts. Still, just in case, she was leaving her stamp all over the woods.
She cut her palm and pressed it to a nearby tree under a branch. Holding the wound to the rough bark stung at first, but then it made her feel better. This forest wouldn’t be a bad eternity.
The sound of running feet erupted behind her and she stiffened. No one ever came out here at night. She’d walked the woods hundreds of times. Her mind instantly went to the creepy girl ghosts chanting by the stream.
“Whoohoo!”
Jane whipped around, startled as a streak of naked flesh sprinted past her. The Scottish voice was met with loud cheers from those who followed him. “Water’s this way, lads, or my name isn’t Raibeart MacGregor, King of the Highlands!”
Another naked man dashed through the forest after him. “It smells of freedom.”
Jane stayed hidden in the branches, undetected, with her hand pressed to the bark.
“Aye, freedom from your proper Cait,” Raibeart answered, his voice coming through the dark where he’d disappeared into the trees.
“Murdoch, stop him before he reaches town. Cait will not teleport ya out of jail again,” a third man yelled, not running quite so fast. “Raibeart, ya are goin’ the wrong way!”
“Och, Angus, my Cait canna live without me,” Murdoch, the second streaker, answered. “She’ll always come to my rescue.”
“I said stop him, Murdoch, we’re new to this place.” Angus skidded to a stop and lifted his jaw, as if sensing he was being watched. He looked in her direction and instantly covered his manhood as his eyes caught Jane’s shocked face in the tree limbs. “Oh, lassie.”
“Oh, naked man,” Jane teased before she could stop herself.
“That I am,” Angus answered, “but there is an explanation for it.”
“I don’t think some things need explained,” Jane said.”
Witches
Scottish Romance
Bagpipes
Warlocks
Kilts
“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars.”
Walden
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