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121 " Lo!" cried the demon. " I am here! What dost thou seek of me? Why dost thou disturb my repose? Smite me no more with that dread rod!" He looked at Cabal. " Where's your dread rod?" " I left it at home," replied Cabal. " Didn't think I really needed it." " You can't summon me without a dread rod!" said Lucifuge, appalled." You're here, aren't you?" " Well, yes, but under false pretences. You haven't got a goatskin or two vervain crowns or two candles of virgin wax made by a virgin girl and duly blessed. Have you got the stone called Ematille?" " I don't even know what Ematille is." Neither did the demon. He dropped the subject and moved on. " Four nails from the coffin of a dead child?" " Don't be fatuous." " Half a bottle of brandy?" " I don't drink brandy." " It's not for you." " I have a hip flask," said Cabal, and threw it to him. The demon caught it and took a dram." Cheers," said Lucifuge, and threw it back. They regarded each other for a long moment. " This really is a shambles," the demon added finally. " What did you summon me for, anyway? "
122 " This is indeed one of the true tragedies of lycanthropy, that the subject of such evil pacts and nefarious deeds is ignorant of his place in the plot that besieges this humble hamlet.”– Aleister Creed, WitchfinderThe Trial of John Goode by Gabriel Salmon and Thome Ward "
123 " So I think that a protest,' she went on, 'like a work of dance or a work of music, is something done, at least in part, by the protestor for the protestor.'She saw I was about to interrupt so said, 'One more minute. Let me explain. Of course one hopes and plans for impact, for audience, for change, for efficacy. But, like dance, like music, a protest can be a religious ritual too, one that needn't be derisively looked down upon as magical thinking, but a spiritual act where the act itself is the goal. And that act may on some level be co-opted, but in the subjective world of the protestor it is a way, in itself, to be. Even in solipsism, the subject can be moral. You can call it hokum if you wish, but for the protestor, the protest makes a moral world in which she can abide. "
― Eugene Lim , Dear Cyborgs
124 " Whenever the nature of the subject permits the reasoning process to be without danger carried on mechanically, the language should be constructed on as mechanical principles as possible; while in the contrary case it should be so constructed, that there shall be the greatest possible obstacle to a mere mechanical use of it "
― John Stuart Mill , A System of Logic, Ratiocinative and Inductive: Being a Connected View of the Principles of Evidence and the Methods of Scientific Investigation
125 " Human culture arises directly from how we overcome the challenges of survival. Some call culture a balance between decadence and celebration. The need for shelter becomes architecture, the rituals of fine cuisine wrought by celebrity chefs. Perhaps the most enduring are the rituals of romance. At its highest expression the artistry of love is the subject of exquisite effort. It is when we are the most human. "
126 " He leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and remained rapt in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely 'I'm trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last. I hope he will not die before I do!''For shame, Heathcliff!' said I. 'It is for God to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.''No, God won’t have the satisfaction that I shall,' he returned. 'I only wish I knew the best way! Let me alone, and I'll plan it out: while I'm thinking of that I don't feel pain. "
― Emily Brontë , Wuthering Heights
127 " What would you do without me?” he asked one night. We were tangled in the silky sheets of his gigantic bed. My heart was still pounding as I came down from the high of what we’d just done, and he wasn’t helping matters by putting his lips so close to my ear.“Live a happy… happy life,” I murmured. “I might even… be an optimist… if you weren’t around.”“Liar.” He bit my earlobe playfully. “You’d be absolutely miserable. Admit it, Duffy. I’m the wind beneath your wings.”I bit my lip, but I still couldn’t hold back the laughter-and just as I was finally catching my breath, too. “You just referenced Bette Midler… in bed. I’m starting to question your sexuality, Wesley.”Wesley looked at me with a defiant glint in his eye. “Oh, really?” He grinned before moving his mouth back to my ear and whispering, “We both know that my manhood has never been in question… I think you’re just changing the subject because you know it’s true. I’m the light of your life.”“You…” I struggled for words as Wesley pressed his mouth into the crook of my neck. The tip of his tongue moved down to my shoulder and made my brain get all fuzzy. How was I supposed to argue under these conditions? “You wish. I’m just using you, remember?”His laughter was muffled against my skin. “That’s amusing,” he said, his lips still grazing my collarbone. “Because I’m pretty sure your ex is out of town by now.” One of his hands slid between my knees. “Yet you’re still here, aren’t you?” His fingers began gliding up and down my inner thigh, making it difficult for me to think of a retort. He seemed to like this, because he laughed again. “I don’t think you hate me, Duffy. I think you like me a lot. "
― Kody Keplinger , The DUFF: Designated Ugly Fat Friend (Hamilton High, #1)
128 " No doubt there are some who, when confronted with a line of mathematical symbols, however simply presented, can only see the face of a stern parent or teacher who tried to force into them a non-comprehending parrot-like apparent competence--a duty and a duty alone--and no hint of magic or beauty of the subject might be allowed to come through. "
― Roger Penrose , The Road to Reality: A Complete Guide to the Laws of the Universe
129 " Until she had had children of her own she had not been able to contemplate the death of either of her parents; when the subject had arisen, in conversation or in her own imagining, she had said only: I just don't know what I'd do. "
― Sebastian Faulks , On Green Dolphin Street
130 " Silence rose and crossed to the connecting door and knocked.The door was opened almost at once.Michael leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, a wicked smile playing about his sensuous lips. He was so very big this close—every time it surprised her and made her breathless. “Well, now, and when did ye decide to start knockin’ at me door?”Silence fought to keep her face from flaming as she remembered the last time she’d peeked through Michael’s door.She swallowed. “We’re bored.”“Is that so?” Michael glanced down.Silence followed his gaze and saw that Mary had crawled over to investigate. The baby grabbed a handful of her skirt and stood up. She kept one hand on Silence’s skirt and popped two fingers from the other into her mouth as she stared solemnly at Michael.“She looks a rare treat,” Michael said softly, watching the toddler.Silence smiled down at Mary. “She does indeed.”She glanced up and her heart squeezed at the gentle look on Michael’s face.As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, Mary lifted her arms—to Michael. “Up!”Michael arched an eyebrow. “Mouthy little thing, ain’t she?”But he bent and lifted the toddler. "
― Elizabeth Hoyt , Scandalous Desires (Maiden Lane, #3)
131 " Thousands of years ago the ancients had an advanced mathematical understanding of universe that is revealed in many sources. There is a consistent link to knowledge of the golden mean, but the way in which the ancients were able to formulate and use this information speaks of a technical grasp of the subject that exceeds what we know about it in the present day. "
― , The Lamb Slain With A Golden Cut: Spiritual Enlightenment and the Golden Mean Revelation