The usual people tried to claim responsibility. First the ira , then the plo and the gas board. Even british nuclear fuels rushed out a statement to the effect that the situation was completely under control, that it was a one in a million chance, that there was hardly any radioactive leakage at all, and that the site of the explosion would make a nice location for a day out with the kids and a picnic, before finally having to admit that it wasn't actually anything to do with them at all.
What's that?" "it looks like something from linus... It is! He sent me a little birch-bark canoe from camp! He said he made it himself... Sometimes i think i don't deserve a nice brother like linus..." "i have often thought the same thing." "dear linus, please send me another canoe. The first one broke when i threw it at charlie brown.
I do believe that nice religious people make the world safe for extremists by teaching us [...] that faith is a virtue, teaching us that there's something good about holding beliefs without any substantiating evidence. Once you buy into that, [...] then the door is opened to extremists who defend their extremism by saying, 'oh well, it's my faith, you can't touch it, you can't criticise my faith, i don't even need to defend it because faith is faith.'
I know that when a supersexy older girl with hips and breasts and nice hair wants to take off your glasses and to paint you a smoky eye she's merely trying to enroll you in a beauty contest she's already won. It's a kind of slummy, condescending gesture, like when rich people ask poor people where they summer. To me, this smacks of a blatant, insensitive "let them eat cake" type of chauvinism.
His gold eyes grew very soft. you said you loved me. you knew that already, i reminded him, ducking my head. it was nice to hear, just the same. i hid my face against his shoulder. i love you, i whispered. you are my life now, he answered simply. there was nothing more to say for the moment. he rocked us back and forth as the room grew lighter.
Colombia was a big wheat producer in the 1950's. That was eliminated by what sounds like a nice plan, called "food for peace. " it's a plan by which us taxpayers subsidized us agribusiness to send food to poor countries. This, of course, destroyed the domestic agricultural markets of these countries, opening these markets to us agribusiness.
Wasn’t that kind of the basis of passion? i didn’t know that either. the only thing i knew for sure was that this kiss had been a lot like the last one. nice, but it didn’t blow me away. my heart sank. there was something wrong with me. everyone was always going on about how socially inept i was. did it extend to romance as well? was i so cold that i’d spend my life never feeling anything?
Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been fate. people are always a little confused about this, as they are in the case of miracles. when someone is saved from certain death by a strange concatenation of circumstances, they say that's a miracle. but of course if someone is killed by a freak chain of events -- the oil spilled just there, the safety fence broken just there -- that must also be a miracle. just because it's not nice doesn't mean it's not miraculous.