orthodoxy

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

poem

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my last exam is on friday...hollah!!!! (no, I don't actually say that in real life) This semester has been in palliative care and loads ...
Wednesday, 27 February 2013

maybe....

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recently a brother of mine posted about social justice...and the fairness of God...he ended his post with fairness is ours to make...which r...
Wednesday, 13 February 2013

the soundtrack for the past few years

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First year of nursing school when I was still trying to get in....well I went back to the 80's and early 90's... Tina Turner Whit...
Tuesday, 5 February 2013

I want them to know...

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I want them to know you take pride in keeping crazies out of your country. I want them to know you sometimes (well, actually really most of ...
Monday, 4 February 2013

words

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the other day i was telling a doctor something and said the word peeing. apparently doctors don't understand what peeing is in relation ...
Thursday, 6 December 2012

A Magical Christmas

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Once, a very long time ago, a little girl along with her Father, Mother and 2 sisters and brother arrived in a busy airport. Across the grea...
Thursday, 29 November 2012

prosaic

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I was reading a news article in class and came across the term prosaic; the article was about the phone hacking scandle in England and how i...
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middie
we have already peered into the depths of that conscience and must now do so again, although we cannot do so without trembling. Nothing is more terrifying than contemplation of this kind. Nothing discernible to the eye of the spirit is more brilliant or obscure than man; nothing is more formidable, more complex, mysterious and infinite. There is a prospect greater than the sea, and it is the sky; there is a prospect greater than the sky, and it is the human soul. Conscience is the labyrinth of illusion, desire and pursuit, the furnace of dreams, the repository of thoughts of which we are ashamed; it is the pandemonium of sophistry, the battlefield of passions. To peer at certain moments into the wide drawn face of a human being in the act of reflection, to see something of what lies beyond their outward silence, is to discern struggle on a Homeric scale, conflicts of dragons and hydras, aerial hosts as in Milton, towering vistas as in Dante. The infinite space that each man carries within himself, wherin despairingly he contrasts the movements of his spirit with the acts of his life, is an overpowering thing.-Victor Hugo
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