“The observing self behind all our thoughts and feelings is itself a thought. That is to say when the police enters a house in which there are thieves, the thieves go up from the ground floor to the first floor. When the police arrive on the first floor, the thieves have gone up to the second—and so to the third and finally out to the roof. So, when the ego is about to be unmasked, it immediately identifies with a higher self. It goes up a level. Because the religious game is simply a refined and highbrow version of the ordinary game: ‘How can I outwit me? How can I one-up me?’ So, if I find, for example, that in the quest for the ordinary pleasures of the world: food, sex, power, possessions—all this becomes a drag and I think ‘No, it isn’t there.’ So I go in for the arts, literature, poetry, music, and I absorb myself in those pleasures—and after a while they aren’t the answer. So I go to psychoanalysis and then I find out that’s not the answer. Then I go to religion. But I’m still seeking what I was seeking when I wanted candy bars! I wanna get that goody!”

Alan Watts


hp moodboards: narcissa black vs narcissa malfoy

@nxrcissamxlfoy happy birthday! I hope this fits with your image of Narcissa

Narcissa Black is not soft, nor is she forgiving; Narcissa Black is dangerous. When she smirks her eyes and teeth glint. She has the kind of face that would drive a man to kill and a smile that says she knows it. Where others are prickly, Narcissa Black is simply sharp.

Narcissa Malfoy is refined, she is controlled. Her smirk is no longer a smirk, but a smile; gentle, calculated and beautiful. She knows what she wants and she knows how to get it. Narcissa Malfoy is dangerous, but you wouldn’t know it.

I really like the idea of teenage Narcissa being a lot less refined and a lot more obviously dangerous than adult Narcissa and as she grows up she learns that being underestimated is one of her greatest weapons and is a lot more sly about things

i’m sorry the writing is shit i didn’t mean to even write anything anyway Narcissa Malfoy is my mother and i love her

Still warm

An Embrace of Great Lengths
she was a love I never meant to find
a midnight conversation of why do you like what I’ve written
she was not prototypical blueprint Beauty
she was abstract and amorphous
she had a moniker so simple yet unique
and I was simply trying to refine parts of myself
but as the winter months turned into spring
turn into summer
turned into fall
toward into heartbreak
heart into can we start again
we continue to say our hellos
good morning
good evening
and we continue to hold on

anonymous asked:

54 your old Male Roegadyn, enjoys quiet walks and hot tea. The date would be a stroll out in Limsa with a picnic dinner, with tea and a gorgeous view. I enjoy listening to others and hearing their tales of where they come from and what they enjoy doing. I myself am a craftsman and enjoy making furniture.

“I would say I would give this gentleman a chance. I do enjoy the company of individuals with an air of maturity. Not a reference to his age, of course, but there is simply a sense of refinement I get from hearing about him! Although the activities listed might not be for everyone, I feel that they are conducive to a close, intimate atmosphere for getting to know one another. Although I confess, the intricacies of carpentry are lost on me. I have fashioned a thing or two out of a small block of wood before to stave off boredom, but that is the full extent of it. Perhaps if shows me his crafts?”

anonymous asked:

I just want you to know, I was in a huge rut, kinda thinking about stopping drawing, and seeing your art made all that vanish in an instant. Your style is so clean, executed so perfectly, and it made me realize that though I felt my style lacked pizzazz and I should stop drawing, I simply haven't refined it yet and made it my own. I hope someday I'm as good as you--and also I wish you a somewhat late happy birthday!

This has been in my askbox for a while (so thanks for the bday shout out!)

but. here.


I drew this in… gosh, middle school? I think it speaks for itself. 

Basically, you’re absolutely right. Hopefully by me posting this, it helps take me down a peg, cause it’s aaaall about that practice and time. You’ll get better before you know it ^^ 

Standstill Part Two

standstill pt. twothe x-filespost- “the truth” msr angst


This is part two of the story I’m writing that deals with Scully’s depression while she and Mulder are running & hiding out after the events following the original series finale. Part one can be found here.

TRIGGER WARNING: Brief discussion of attempted sexual assault (nothing graphic or gratuitous).

Most nights, I held myself off until after she had showered and sank into bed beside me. Kate (unlike Scully) seemed to prefer sex in bed, with the dark of night obscuring our passion. So I forced myself to wait until the lights were out before I ran my lips along that sweet spot on her neck, drew circles on her hipbones with my thumbs, pulled her thighs up around my hips so I could push into her at last. 

On the night in question, I would have been happy to wait. Sex with Scully was a gift, something I didn’t take for granted. I would never push the issue – but I had barely finished my lukewarm burger before she was leaning into me, her breasts pressing into my chest as she kissed me with an urgency I hadn’t felt from her in months. Before I knew it, she was beneath me on the bed, her jean clad thighs fervently gripping mine as she fumbled with my belt buckle.

Keep reading

I grew up in a lower-middle class urban environment without any particular social graces, and when I went to Harvard as a graduate student in the early 1950s, in a special high-class research outfit that had all sorts of prestigious elite people, I discovered that a large part of the education was simply refinement, social graces, what kinds of clothes to wear, how to have polite conversation that isn’t too serious, all the other things that an intellectual is supposed to do. I remember a couple of years later asking a distinguished English professor from Oxford, which was the model that this organization was attempting to imitate, how he thought that Harvard’s imitation compared with Oxford’s original. He thought for a while and he said that he thought it was the difference between genuine superficiality and phoney superficiality. We only had phoney superficiality, while they had genuine superficiality. This is a large part of what is called education.
—  Noam Chomsky

Via The BBC, the story of cheesemaking in the Democratic Republic of Congo: 

The rare art of cheese-making in DR Congo

A hillside village in the Democratic Republic of Congo is an unlikely site for the production of fine cheese. But here, one man continues a legacy started by Belgian priests in 1975.

Andre Ndekezi cuts carefully through thick, curdled milk with a large fork and then stirs it with his bare hands. He is making cheese in a bathtub. His workshop is a small, wooden cabin perched on the lush hills of Masisi, in the east of the DR Congo. The conditions are basic, but Ndekezi has a rare savoir-faire when it comes to dairy products.

The curd will spend a month on a shelf in a dark room in the back of the workshop and eventually become a refined cheese.

Simply known as Goma cheese - Goma is the largest town in the area - it is like a milder version of French gruyere, softer in texture. Ndekezi is 52 years old and he learned how to do his job 30 years ago. At the time, all sorts of cheese was produced in eastern DR Congo. “I know how to make camembert and mozzarella,” explains Ndekezi. “But we no longer have the necessary equipment or products to make those cheeses. During the war, everything was looted or destroyed.”

With its cool climate and abundant cattle, the area offers the ideal conditions for dairy production. That is what prompted Belgian priests to first start making cheese here in the 1970s. “The priests started in 1975, they set up factories on the hills, not only here but also in Rwanda and Uganda,” Ndekezi explains. Today, cheese from Masisi is the only local dairy product to be sold across the DRC. Cheese is not usually part of traditional food in Africa, and in fact much of the cheese found on the continent is imported from Europe.

Ndekezi was taught to make cheese by the UN Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) in Masisi, before being hired by a local dairy farm run by Belgian priests.

That’s where he acquired the skills to make more sophisticated dairy products, including the famous French camembert and Italian mozzarella but also yoghurt and butter. “I am proud to be able to say that my country DR Congo produces cheese.” He has bigger ambitions. For him, this tiny factory is only a first step back into the business. He is convinced that with his skills, he can achieve much more. “Little by little, I will build on this. I want to get equipment shipped from Europe so I can also start making camembert here. You’ll see, one day I will send some to you, in France.”

Read the full story.

(Photos ©2014

Alchemical Symbols in Torbern Bergman’s 1775 Dissertation on Elective Affinities

“I have made you a metal tester among my people, one making a thorough search; and you will take note and you must examine their way.  All of them are the most stubborn men, walking about as slanderers—copper and iron.  They are all of them ruinous.  The bellows have been scorched.  Out from their fire there is lead.  One has kept refining intensely simply for nothing, and those who are bad have not been separated.  Rejected silver is what people will certainly call them, for Jehovah has rejected them.”

-Jeremiah 6:27-30, NWT