Beneficiarse En Quotes

Writing for money and reservation of copyright are, at bottom, the ruin of literature. No one writes anything that is worth writing, unless he writes entirely for the sake of his subject. What in inestimable boon it would be, if in every branch of literature there were only a few books, but those excellent! This can never happen as long as money is to be made by writing. It seems as though the money lay under a curse; for every author degenerates as soon as he begins to put a pen to paper in any way for the sake of gain. The best works of the greatest men all come from the time when they had to write for nothing or for very little. And here, too, that Spanish proverb holds good, which declares that honour and money are not to be found in the same purse--honra y provecho no caben en un saco. The reason why Literature is in such a bad plight nowadays is simply and solely that people write books to make money. A man who is in want sits down and writes a book, and the public is stupid enough to buy it. The secondary effect of this is the ruin of language. ~ Arthur Schopenhauer

There's something profoundly intense and intoxicating about friendship found en route. It's the bond that arises from being thrust into uncomfortable circumstances, and the vulnerability of trusting others to navigate those situations. It's the exhilaration of meeting someone when we are our most alive selves, breathing new air, high on life-altering moments. It's the discovery of the commonality of the world's people and the attendant rejection of prejudices. It's the humbling experience of being suspicious of a stranger who then extends a great kindness. It's the astonishment of learning from those we set out to teach. It's the intimacy of sharing small spaces, the recognition of a kindred spirit across the globe.
It's the travel relationship, and it can only call itself family. ~ Lavinia Spalding

I detest audiences - not in their individual components, but en masse I detest audiences. I think they're a force of evil. It seems to me rule of mob law. ~ Glenn Gould

Haz decisiones basada en tu conciencia porque al final del dia tu sola eres la que enfrentaras tus demonios.

Make decisions based on your conscience because at the end of the day you're the one that will face your demons ~ Isabel Ramos

[M]en of genius and talents have started out of a class, in which women have never yet been placed. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft

La dernière chose qu'on trouve en faisant un ouvrage est de savoir celle qu'il faut mettre la première. (The last thing one settles in writing a book is what one should put in first.) ~ Blaise Pascal

io sui ici en liu dami amo' ('I am here in place of a friend love') ~ Connie Willis

The problem isn't any particular technology, but the use of technology to manipulate people, to concentrate power in a way that is so nuts and creepy that it becomes a threat to the survival of civilization.

Lanier, Jaron. Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now (Posición en Kindle528-529). Henry Holt and Co.. Edición de Kindle. ~ Lanier, Jaron

When a liquid boils, the temperature has been raised to such a pitch that the evaporating molecules are sufficient in number and speed to lift off the air from the surface of the liquid and push it back en masse. ~ William Henry Bragg

I want you to be happy. Eat it."
A wry smile curved Rose's lips. "Am I to find happiness in a piece of chocolate cake?"
Eve already had a forkful en route to her mouth. "I stake my reputation on it."
"Oh," she replied dryly. "Surely heaven is just a bite away."
"Speaking of heaven," Eve said a few minutes later when Rose thought she might expire from the bliss the dessert inspired, "tell me about your evening at Saint's Row."
"Shh!" Her paranoid gaze darted around to see if anyone had overheard, but there was no one standing close enough to their whitewashed bench.
"Don't shush me, Rose Danvers. I'm your best friend and you've kept me waiting four whole days! I demand details."
Cheeks flushed, Rose stared at the half-eaten cake on her plate. Eve's timing might leave something to be desired, but at least she'd stopped Rose from eating the entire slice.
"What do you want to know?"
Eve's expression was incredulous. "Everything, of course." Then, as though realizing who she was talking to, she sighed. "Did you find him?"
Rose nodded. "I did." The fire in her cheeks burned hotter, and she looked away. "Oh, Eve!"
Her friend grabbed her wrist, clattering fork against plate. "That arse didn't hurt you did he?"
"No!" Then lowering her voice, "And he's not an arse." Using such rough language made her feel daring and bold.
The scowl on Eve's face eased. "Then…he was good to you?"
Rose nodded, leaning closer. "It was ~ Kathryn Smith

Here we are - despite the delays, the confusion, and the shadows en route - at last, or for the moment, where we always intended to be. ~ Julia Glass

When love has left us in the lurch and nothing ever strikes a chord anymore, we may come to realize a vacuum of the lost vibrations of happiness and an absence of the ethereal and exalting feel of harmony that we only become aware of, after time passes by and everything has expired. ("Amour en friche") ~ Erik Pevernagie

YOU
You are that song that plays rarely on the radio,
But when it does I have to sing it out loud…
You are the water that formed a puddle on a rainy day,that I played in,
When I was only eight years old.
You are the first snowfall of the season,
And the reason I like the morning...
You're a single seashell that washed up onto the shore.
You are my set of old medals
Hidden deep in a drawer…
You are the sun, the moon, the stars, and all the planets.
You are the first breath of a baby just born.

Eres una dandelion que encuentro,
I pull, make a wish, then blow.
You are the sunrise that I tried to paint
after I woke up in Eilat.
You give the nights its meaning…
to dream, while others just sleep.
You are my 3rd grade valentine,
Read, frayed and loved a thousand times.
Eres perfección envuelto en humildad…

Eres oro, plata, y diamantes…
Eres mi querido viejito Pooh, que nunca lo abandonare.
You are my first time driving my brother's Impala,
When I was just fourteen.
You are the name hidden deep inside my name…
And I'm the fingers interlaced with yours.
Eres el PS: I love you at the end la carta,
Y yo soy el PS: I love you too.
Somos el principio, el medio y la ultima palabra
De mi libro final.

Eternamente nosotros, nosotros, nosotros…
Porque nosotros siempre es mejor
Que solamente… yo…
YOU ~ Jose N Harris

I knew even then that she was right. An en is a karmic bond lasting a lifetime. Nowadays many people seem to believe their lives are entirely a matter of choice; but in my day we viewed ourselves as pieces of clay that forever show the fingerprints of everyone who has touched them. Nobu's touch had made a deeper impression on me than most. No one could tell me whether he would be my ultimate destiny, but I had always sensed the en between us. Somewhere in the landscape of my life Nobu would always be present. But could it really be that of all the lessons I'd learned, the hardest one lay just ahead of me? Would I really have to take each of my hopes and put them away where no one would ever see them again, where not even I would ever see them? ~ Arthur Golden

But what is equally important, and sobering, is how often we fool ourselves. And we fool ourselves not only individually but en masse. The tendency of a group of human beings to quickly come to believe something that its individual members will later see as obviously false is truly amazing. Some of the worst tragedies of the last century happened because well-meaning people fell for easy solutions proposed by bad leaders. ~ Lee Smolin

Do not be mad because someone is more successful than you are. What have you done lately to (en.hance), enhance your own success? ~ Jon Jones

Yes - en I's rich now, come to look at it. I owns myself, en I's wuth eight hund'd dollars. I wisht I had de money, I wouldn' want no mo'. ~ Mark Twain

Seulement la terre qui obéit,
sait bien qu'elle tourne en rond,
tandis que nous vers l'infini
nous précipitons.

Translation:
But the obedient Earth well knows
that she moves round and round,
whereas we hurtle down
toward infinity. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Mÿnna tachton gernast spuho somen gelen Emÿna daÿda"

[modern: Minä tahdon kernaasti puhua suomen kieltä, [mutta] en minä taida]
("I willingly want to speak Finnish, [but] I am not able")

(found in a German travel journal c.1450) ~ Christine Wulff

En voiture, Monsieur,' said the Wagon Lit conductor. ~ Agatha Christie

Whenever he was en route from one place to another, he was able to look at his life with a little more objectivity than usual. it was often on trpis that he thought most clearly, and made the decisions that he could not reach when he was stationary. ~ Paul Bowles

And policemen. They were obliged to sneak past two en route to Kampa. Thomas was a contentedly law-abiding child, with fond feelings toward policemen. He was also afraid of them. His notion of prisons and jails had been keenly influenced by reading Dumas, and he had not the slightest doubt that little boys would, without compunction, be interred in them. He began to be sorry to have come along. He wished he had never come up with the idea of having Josef prove his mettle to the members of the Hofzinser Club. It was not that he doubted his brother's ability. This never would have occurred to him. He was just afraid: of the night, the shadows, and the darkness, of policemen, his father's temper, spiders, robbers, drunks, ladies in overcoats, and especially, this morning, of the river, darker than anything else in Prague. ~ Michael Chabon

I prefer Christmas, which is everybody's holiday. It's just my nature. I don't like to be zeroed in on en masse. ~ Joni Mitchell

Edilio lay on the steps of town hall feeling as weak as a kitten. He had barely heard Caine's big speech. He couldn't have cared less. There was nothing he could do, not with delirium spinning his head.
He coughed hard, too hard. It wracked his body each time he did it so that he dreaded the next cough. His stomach was clenched in knots. Every muscle in his body ached.
He was vaguely aware that he was saying something in between coughs.
"Mamá. Mamá. Sálvame."
Save me, mother.
"Santa María, sálvame," he begged, and coughed so hard he smashed his head against the steps.
Death was near, he felt it. Death reached through his swimming, disordered mind and he felt its cold hand clutching his heart.
Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. ~ Michael Grant

Our knowing - even of the most unexceptional kind - is always too big, too rich, too an cient, and too connected for us to be the source of it individually. At the same time, our knowing - even of the most elevated kind - is too en gaged, too precise, too tailored, too active, and too experiential for it to be just of a generic size. The experience of knowing is no less unique, no less creative, and no less extraordinary for being one of participa tion. As a matter of fact, on the face of it, it would probably not amount to much otherwise. ~ Etienne Wenger

The obligation of the judge in the circuit is to follow the previous decisions in the circuit unless those decisions are overruled by an en bloc panel of the court. ~ Merrick Garland

Everything in Australia is trying to kill you, haven't you heard? Half of the ten deadliest snakes in the world live in Queensland. And then there are the poisonous spiders and the jellyfish. Not to mention the crocs and the great white sharks. Another point in favor of New Zealand. Very benign place, En Zed. ~ Rosalind James

For over a decade,
She stood there once a while,
Gazing at the Infinite sea,
On-call to engulf whoever jumps,
And then, a day,
She dived into it,
With fragmented emotions,
And worn-out soul,
To a novel desire,
To an unseasoned growth,
En route a superior essence. ~ Irfa Rahat

What was the battle? What were the aims of the romantics? Why was the subject
the focus of such violent interest?
Hugo and his generation were all 'enfants du siècle', all, give or take a year or
two, born with the century. Brought up amidst the dramas of Napoleon's wars,
they had reached manhood to the anticlimax of peace and Bourbon rule. Restless
and dissatisfied, their dreams of military glory frustrated, they had turned them-
selves instead towards the liberation of the arts, their foes no longer the armies of
Europe but the tyrannies of classical tradition.

For thirty years, while the nation's energies had been absorbed in politics and
war, the arts had virtually stood still in France, frozen, through lack of challenge, in
the classical attitudes of the old régime. The violent emotions and experiences of
the Napoleonic era had done much to render them meaningless. 'Since the cam-
paign in Russia,' said a former officer to Stendhal, 'Iphigénie en Aulide no longer
seems such a good play.'

By the 1820s while the academic establishment, hiding its own sterility behind
the great names of the past, continued to denounce all change, the ice of clas-
sicism was beginning to crack. New influences were crowding in from abroad:
Chateaubriand, the 'enchanter', had cast his spell on the rising generation; the po-
etry of Lamartine, Hugo and Vigny heralded the spring ~ Linda Kelly

In the distance, the cat hears the sound of lobster minds singing in the void, a distant feed streaming from their cometary home as it drifts silently out through the asteroid belt, en route to a chilly encounter beyond Neptune. The lobsters sing of alienation and obsolescence, of intelligence too slow and tenuous to support the vicious pace of change that has sandblasted the human world until all the edges people cling to are jagged and brittle. ~ Charles Stross

When you enter a beloved novel many times, you can come to feel that you possess it, that nobody else has ever lived there. You try not to notice the party of impatient tourists trooping through the kitchen (Pnin a minor scenic attraction en route to the canyon Lolita), or that shuffling academic army, moving in perfect phalanx, as they stalk a squirrel around the backyard (or a series of squirrels, depending on their methodology). ~ Zadie Smith

Oh yes, technique has definitely advanced. But you never advance without losing something en passant, and you lose it because you're paying so much attention to the new thing. ~ Ninette De Valois

The narration, in fact, doubles the drama with a commentary without which no mise en scene would be possible. ~ Jacques Lacan

In space-time everything which for each of us constitutes the past, the present and the future is given en bloc ... Each observer, as his time passes, discovers, so to speak, new slices of space-time which appear to him as successive aspects of the material world, though in reality the ensemble of events constituting space-time exist prior to his knowledge of them. ~ Louis De Broglie

Hay algo más tonto en la vida
Que llamarse Pablo Neruda?

(is there anything more insane in this life
than being called Pablo Neruda?) ~ Pablo Neruda

La cuestion esta en decidirse en algo, alguna vez.

The gist is in deciding on something, at some time. ~ Marta Traba