Fabricated Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
we-only-exist-in-terms-how-we-think-we-exist-meaning-every-cultural-development-is-fabricated-can-be-fabricated
ive-never-fabricated-plagiarized-anything
who-fabricated-another-god-with-allah-toss-him-into-intense-agony-qaf-26
to-begin-with-i-had-never-done-any-good-deeds-besides-even-if-i-had-simply-fabricated-few-i-would-not-have-enjoyed-going-on-about-them-m-ageyev
i-felt-trapped-fabricated-in-fifties-living-up-to-other-peoples-expectations-rosemary-clooney
but-when-moses-came-to-them-with-our-signs-clear-manifest-they-said-this-is-nothing-but-fabricated-magic-we-never-heard-this-from-our-ancestors-old-alqasas-36
i-dont-want-to-read-about-fabricated-version-someones-life-i-want-to-know-what-haunts-you-what-are-you-ashamed-what-embarrasses-you-what-do-you-wish-was-different
deprived-inside-your-fabricated-life-come-truth-in-time-your-basement-full-lies-die-mannequin
that-is-because-they-said-the-fire-will-not-touch-us-except-for-limited-number-days-they-have-been-misled-in-their-religion-by-lies-they-fabricated-ali-imran-24
all-proffered-evidence-that-america-was-attacked-by-muslims-on-911-when-subjected-to-critical-scrutiny-appears-to-have-been-fabricated-david-ray-griffin
you-can-point-to-alleged-miracles-bible-any-other-religious-text-but-they-are-nothing-but-old-stories-fabricated-by-man-then-exaggerated-over-time-dan-brown
the-metropolis-strives-to-reach-mythical-point-where-world-is-completely-fabricated-by-man-that-it-absolutely-coincides-with-his-desires-rem-koolhaas
in-their-stories-is-lesson-for-those-who-possess-intelligence-this-is-not-fabricated-tale-but-confirmation-what-came-before-it-detailed-explanation-all-things-guidance-mercy-for-
at-times-i-felt-that-universe-fabricated-from-power-imagination-had-stronger-more-lasting-contours-than-blurred-realm-fleshblood-creatures-isabel-allende
there-are-some-that-even-beg-for-chamber-she-could-hear-isaar-saying-in-back-her-mind-soft-minded-fools-broken-souls-that-would-rather-live-fabricated-existence-than-deal-with-re
the-best-hiding-place-was-love-thus-conversion-from-pristine-sadism-to-fabricated-hatred-to-fraudulent-love-toni-morrison
pain-without-cause-is-pain-we-cant-trust-we-assume-its-been-chosen-fabricated-leslie-jamison
by-late-twentieth-century-our-time-mythic-time-we-are-all-chimeras-theorized-fabricated-hybrids-machine-organism-in-short-we-are-cyborgs-donna-j-haraway
to-conquer-nature-is-in-effect-to-remove-all-natural-barriers-human-norms-to-substitute-artificial-fabricated-equivalents-for-natural-processes-alex-campbell
if-wars-create-vast-sums-money-for-global-elite-is-it-possible-soviets-viet-cong-muslim-extremists-were-are-also-fabricated-enemies-west-along-with-north-korea-or-at-least-exagge
usually-music-inspires-lyrics-the-lyrics-just-sort-fall-off-like-bunch-crumbs-from-melody-thats-all-i-want-them-to-be-crumbs-i-dont-want-to-work-any-kind-fabricated-message
the-people-who-knew-me-knew-my-work-trusted-me-they-knew-then-as-they-do-now-that-ive-never-fabricated-plagiarized-story-people-who-know-me-know-i-didnt-do-this
Some sleepers have intelligent faces even in sleep, while other faces, even intelligent ones, become very stupid in sleep and therefore ridiculous. I don't know what makes that happen; I only want to say that a laughing man, like a sleeping one, most often knows nothing about his face. A great many people don't know how to laugh at all. However, there's nothing to know here: it's a gift, and it can't be fabricated. It can only be fabricated by re-educating oneself, developing oneself for the better, and overcoming the bad instincts of one's character; then the laughter of such a person might quite possibly change for the better. A man can give himself away completely by his laughter, so that you suddenly learn all of his innermost secrets. Even indisputably intelligent laughter is sometimes repulsive. Laughter calls first of all for sincerity, and where does one find sincerity? Laughter calls for lack of spite, but people most often laugh spitefully. Sincere and unspiteful laughter is mirth. A man's mirth is a feature that gives away the whole man, from head to foot. Someone's character won't be cracked for a long time, then the man bursts out laughing somehow quite sincerely, and his whole character suddenly opens up as if on the flat of your hand. Only a man of the loftiest and happiest development knows how to be mirthful infectiously, that is, irresistibly and goodheartedly. I'm not speaking of his mental development, but of his character, of the whole man. And so, if you want to discern a man and know his soul, you must look, not at how he keeps silent, or how he speaks, or how he weeps, or even how he is stirred by the noblest ideas, but you had better look at him when he laughs. If a man has a good laugh, it means he's a good man. Note at the same time all the nuances: for instance, a man's laughter must in no case seem stupid to you, however merry and simplehearted it may be. The moment you notice the slightest trace of stupidity in someone's laughter, it undoubtedly means that the man is of limited intelligence, though he may do nothing but pour out ideas. Or if his laughter isn't stupid, but the man himself, when he laughs, for some reason suddenly seems ridiculous to you, even just slightly-know, then, that the man has no real sense of dignity, not fully in any case. Or finally, if his laughter is infectious, but for some reason still seems banal to you, know, then, that the man's nature is on the banal side as well, and all the noble and lofty that you noticed in him before is either deliberately affected or unconsciously borrowed, and later on the man is certain to change for the worse, to take up what's 'useful' and throw his noble ideas away without regret, as the errors and infatuations of youth.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky
some-sleepers-have-intelligent-faces-even-in-sleep-while-other-faces-even-intelligent-ones-become-stupid-in-sleep-therefore-ridiculous-i-dont-know-what-makes-that-happen-i-only-w
Rolf Ekeus came round to my apartment one day and showed me the name of the Iraqi diplomat who had visited the little West African country of Niger: a statelet famous only for its production of yellowcake uranium. The name was Wissam Zahawi. He was the brother of my louche gay part-Kurdish friend, the by-now late Mazen. He was also, or had been at the time of his trip to Niger, Saddam Hussein's ambassador to the Vatican. I expressed incomprehension. What was an envoy to the Holy See doing in Niger? Obviously he was not taking a vacation. Rolf then explained two things to me. The first was that Wissam Zahawi had, when Rolf was at the United Nations, been one of Saddam Hussein's chief envoys for discussions on nuclear matters (this at a time when the Iraqis had functioning reactors). The second was that, during the period of sanctions that followed the Kuwait war, no Western European country had full diplomatic relations with Baghdad. TheVatican was the sole exception, so it was sent a very senior Iraqi envoy to act as a listening post. And this man, a specialist in nuclear matters, had made a discreet side trip to Niger. This was to suggest exactly what most right-thinking people were convinced was not the case: namely that British intelligence was on to something when it said that Saddam had not ceased seeking nuclear materials in Africa. I published a few columns on this, drawing at one point an angry email from Ambassador Zahawi that very satisfyingly blustered and bluffed on what he'd really been up to. I also received-this is what sometimes makes journalism worthwhile-a letter from a BBC correspondent named Gordon Correa who had been writing a book about A.Q. Khan. This was the Pakistani proprietor of the nuclear black market that had supplied fissile material to Libya, North Korea, very probably to Syria, and was open for business with any member of the 'rogue states' club. (Saddam's people, we already knew for sure, had been meeting North Korean missile salesmen in Damascus until just before the invasion, when Kim Jong Il's mercenary bargainers took fright and went home.) It turned out, said the highly interested Mr. Correa, that his man Khan had also been in Niger, and at about the same time that Zahawi had. The likelihood of the senior Iraqi diplomat in Europe and the senior Pakistani nuclear black-marketeer both choosing an off-season holiday in chic little uranium-rich Niger... well, you have to admit that it makes an affecting picture. But you must be ready to credit something as ridiculous as that if your touching belief is that Saddam Hussein was already 'contained, ' and that Mr. Bush and Mr. Blair were acting on panic reports, fabricated in turn by self-interested provocateurs.

Christopher Hitchens
rolf-ekeus-came-round-to-my-apartment-one-day-showed-me-name-iraqi-diplomat-who-had-visited-little-west-african-country-niger-statelet-famous-only-for-its-production-yellowcake-u
Ultimately, the roast turkey must be regarded as a monument to Boomer's love. Look at it now, plump and glossy, floating across Idaho as if it were a mammoth, mutated seed pod. Hear how it backfires as it passes the silver mines, perhaps in tribute to the origin of the knives and forks of splendid sterling that a roast turkey and a roast turkey alone possesses the charisma to draw forth into festivity from dark cupboards. See how it glides through the potato fields, familiarly at home among potatoes but with an air of expectation, as if waiting for the flood of gravy. The roast turkey carries with it, in its chubby hold, a sizable portion of our primitive and pagan luggage. Primitive and pagan? Us? We of the laser, we of the microchip, we of the Union Theological Seminary and Time magazine? Of course. At least twice a year, do not millions upon millions of us cybernetic Christians and fax machine Jews participate in a ritual, a highly stylized ceremony that takes place around a large dead bird? And is not this animal sacrificed, as in days of yore, to catch the attention of a divine spirit, to show gratitude for blessings bestowed, and to petition for blessings coveted? The turkey, slain, slowly cooked over our gas or electric fires, is the central figure at our holy feast. It is the totem animal that brings our tribe together. And because it is an awkward, intractable creature, the serving of it establishes and reinforces the tribal hierarchy. There are but two legs, two wings, a certain amount of white meat, a given quantity of dark. Who gets which piece; who, in fact, slices the bird and distributes its limbs and organs, underscores quite emphatically the rank of each member in the gathering. Consider that the legs of this bird are called 'drumsticks, ' after the ritual objects employed to extract the music from the most aboriginal and sacred of instruments. Our ancestors, kept their drums in public, but the sticks, being more actively magical, usually were stored in places known only to the shaman, the medicine man, the high priest, of the Wise Old Woman. The wing of the fowl gives symbolic flight to the soul, but with the drumstick is evoked the best of the pulse of the heart of the universe. Few of us nowadays participate in the actual hunting and killing of the turkey, but almost all of us watch, frequently with deep emotion, the reenactment of those events. We watch it on TV sets immediately before the communal meal. For what are footballs if not metaphorical turkeys, flying up and down a meadow? And what is a touchdown if not a kill, achieved by one or the other of two opposing tribes? To our applause, great young hungers from Alabama or Notre Dame slay the bird. Then, the Wise Old Woman, in the guise of Grandma, calls us to the table, where we, pretending to be no longer primitive, systematically rip the bird asunder. Was Boomer Petaway aware of the totemic implications when, to impress his beloved, he fabricated an outsize Thanksgiving centerpiece? No, not consciously. If and when the last veil dropped, he might comprehend what he had wrought. For the present, however, he was as ignorant as Can o' Beans, Spoon, and Dirty Sock were, before Painted Stick and Conch Shell drew their attention to similar affairs. Nevertheless, it was Boomer who piloted the gobble-stilled butterball across Idaho, who negotiated it through the natural carving knives of the Sawtooth Mountains, who once or twice parked it in wilderness rest stops, causing adjacent flora to assume the appearance of parsley.

Tom Robbins
ultimately-roast-turkey-must-be-regarded-as-monument-to-boomers-love-look-at-it-now-plump-glossy-floating-across-idaho-as-if-it-were-mammoth-mutated-seed-pod-hear-how-it-backfire
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