A couple of balls found some holes and I hit a couple on the barrel. It was nice; it’s been a while.
He was throwing hard but he made a couple of mistakes and we were able to take advantage. You pop those mistakes up and it's a different ball game. Fortunately for us we were able to put good swings on the ball and get some knocks and when we had the chance to drive in runs, we were able to do it.
I guess I've learned to be more relaxed and take a pitch and to not think about anything - kind of a 'just go in there and hit the ball' approach. This is the most relaxed I've felt. Maybe it's because it's my fourth year here. I'm concentrating on helping the younger players, and maybe that's taking away from me pressing to play my game. I see how stressed they are at times, and I don't want to be stressed, too.
It took a couple of months before we were both convinced there were no rules about sexual activities in Hell and our spouses were not going to show up out of the blue. It was hard to start a sexual relationship in circumstances of such bizarre uncertainty, especially for an active Mormon and a good Christian, both lost in a Zoroastrian Hell. We were like virgin newlyweds. All my life I’d been raised to believe this kind of thing was wrong. All my life I had lived with a strong sense of morality. How do you give it up? How do you do things you thought you’d never do? Where do all the things you believed go, when all the supporting structure is found to be a myth? How do you know how or on what to take a moral stand, how do you behave when it turns out there are no cosmic rules, no categorical imperatives? It was difficult. So tricky to untangle.
As I continued to pray raggedly, prayer ceased to be an awkward and self-conscious act. It became a daily need to which I looked forward. If, for any reason, I were deprived of it, I was distressed as if I had been deprived of some life necessity, like water. I cannot say I changed. There tore through me a transformation with the force of a river, which, dammed up and diverted for a lifetime, bursts its way back to its true channel. I became what I was. I ceased to be what I was not.
Dante laughed. "No cold soup, no goat cheese. I'll make a mental note. And no Gottfried Curse.""And for you it's no food at all. No sleep. And no tunnels.""I'm low maintenance.""Is that what you are? Because I've been trying to figure it out all semester.""And what have you concluded?""A mutant. A rare disease. A creature from the inferno. Dante.""And what if you found out you were right?" he asked. "What if it meant that I could hurt you?""I would say that I'm not scared. Everyone has the ability to hurt. It's the choice that matters.
I think that, with some notable exceptions, the community of scientists was excessively optimistic about how quickly imaging would have an impact on psychiatry. In their enthusiasm, people forgot that the human brain is the most complex object in the history of human inquiry, and it's not at all easy to see what's going wrong.
Oh, good grief," said Vimes. "Look, it's quite simple, man. I was expected to go "At last, alcohol!", and chugalug the lot without thinking. Then some respectable pillars of the community" - he removed the cigar from his mouth and spat - "were going to find me, in your presence, too - which was a nice touch - with the evidence of my crime neatly hidden but not so well hidden that they couldn't find it." He shook his head sadly. "The trouble is, you know, that once the taste's got you it never lets go.""But you've been very good, sir," said Carrot. "I've not seen you touch a drop for -""Oh, that," said Vimes. "I was talking about policing, not alcohol. There's lots of people will help you with the alcohol business, but there's no one out there arranging little meetings where you can stand up and say, "My name is Sam and I'm a really suspicious bastard.
And if I am not mistaken here is the secret of the greatness that was Spain. In Spain it is men that are the poems, the pictures and the buildings. Men are its philosophies. They lived, these Spaniards of the Golden Age; they felt and did; they did not think. Life was what they sought and found, life in its turmoil, its fervour and its variety. Passion was the seed that brought them forth and passion was the flower they bore. But passion alone cannot give rise to a great art. In the arts the Spaniards invented nothing. They did little in any of those they practised, but give a local colour to a virtuosity they borrowed from abroad. Their literature, as I have ventured to remark, was not of the highest rank; they were taught to paint by foreign masters, but, inapt pupils, gave birth to one painter only of the very first class; they owed their architecture to the Moors, the French and the Italians, and the works themselves produced were best when they departed least from their patterns. Their preeminence was great, but it lay in another direction: it was a preeminence of character. In this I think they have been surpassed by none and equalled only by the ancient Romans. It looks as though all the energy, all the originality, of this vigorous race had been disposed to one end and one end only, the creation of man. It is not in art that they excelled, they excelled in what is greater than art--in man. But it is thought that has the last word.
I have my own way to walk and for some reason or other Zen is right in the middle of it wherever I go. So there it is, with all its beautiful purposelessness, and it has become very familiar to me though I do not know "what it is." Or even if it is an "it." Not to be foolish and multiply words, I'll say simply that it seems to me that Zen is the very atmosphere of the Gospels, and the Gospels are bursting with it. It is the proper climate for any monk, no matter what kind of monk he may be. If I could not breathe Zen I would probably die of spiritual asphyxiation.
You know, I'm comfortable with it and in some ways I look forward to it, ... As much as I'd like to compete, it's difficult. It gets old. You're battling; guys are big and strong and fast. You're fighting time. So in some ways, when it's over, I'll have a sense of relief. It's a lot of work and I enjoy doing it, but again I look forward to when it's over as well.
Before training camp, I had a couple of conversations on the phone and he threw some questions at me, ... In practices here, the way he wants things done is different. Like we were working the power play and penalty killing, and he has some different ideas on where he wants you to go and why he wants you to do it. So for me, I'm just trying to pay attention. ... I'm just trying not to make mistakes.
I wasn't really concerned about [other teams]. I was thinking about my own team. I've learned not to sell them short. I've learned when we're down 17 last night [to Indiana before rallying to win] the game is not over. They battle, and they like to play. We know we have some shortcomings but they try to stay organized, they move the ball, they try to play together, and when you do that, success is going to follow at some point ? it's just a matter of time.
I have a scar-a faint gouge in my knee from when I fell down on the sidewalk as a child. It's always seemed stupid to me that none of the pain I've experienced has left a visible mark; sometimes, without a way to prove it to myself. I began to doubt that I had lied through it at all, with the memories becoming hazy over time. I want to have some kind of reminder that while wounds heal, they don't disappear forever- I carry them everywhere, always, and that is the way of things, the way of scars.That is what this tattoo will be, for me: a scar. And it seems fitting that it should document the worst memory of pain I have.
I think it's always great to win, especially when you're confidence is in the balance. We've played a tough, grueling schedule. Texas A&M Corpus Christi was ranked 53 in the RPI (ratings percentage index). They may not be a household name, but they're a good team. We've played some good folks and hopefully we'll benefit. We just had more enthusiasm tonight, and we really fought hard. And it's nice when the bench comes in and produces.