Although the cooking of food presents some unsolved problems, the quick warming of cooked food and the thawing of frozen food both open up some attractive uses. ... There is no important reason why the the housewife of the future should not purchase completely frozen meals at the grocery store just as she buys quick frozen vegetables. With a quick heating, high-frequency unit in her kitchen, food preparation from a pre-cooked, frozen meal becomes a simple matter.
Chauncey Guy Suits
I remember when TiVO first came out I was all about TiVo. I came home and that thing was frozen, and I thought 'This is awful. This is the end of the world'. Then I unplugged it, and I plugged it back in, and still frozen. It was paralyzing. I called them. They said, 'Just unplug it longer.' Fixed. But it also taught me I'm an addict.
In the end I created a career of my own, concentrating on my writing and lecturing, reaching larger audiences than I would had I ended up with tenure and a full teaching load. It was Virginia Woolf who said that it is terrible to be frozen out of a sacred tradition-but even more terrible to be frozen into it.
one evangelical scientist who had felt his doubts falling away from him when he was hiking in the mountains and came upon a frozen waterfall-in fact a trinity of a frozen waterfall, with three parts to it. 'At that moment, I felt my resistance leave me. And it was a great sense of relief.
I used to like eating frozen corn straight out of the bag. But I also love microwaving frozen corn and adding butter and sugar and garlic powder and chili powder to it. And sometimes I just like to microwave it and add a little bit of hot sauce to it. My friends always laugh at me when they catch me eating it.
Everything looks stark and vivid and frozen, as though drawn precisely and outlined in ink - parents' smiles frozen, camera flashes blinding, mouths open and white teeth glinstening, dark glossy hair and deep blue sky and unrelenting light, everyone drowning in light - everything so clear and perfect I'm sure it must already be a memory, or a dream.
In my opinion, the person who created the torture device called gym class should be clobbered with an enormous frozen cucumber. Not to mention, the person who decided it would be a great idea to schedule me in first period gym every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday also deserves a heavy-handed whacking with the same frozen cucumber.
Also, Willie, I dig telling the truth. Words can be twisted but a photo never lies. Sutton laughs. What's funny? Photographer says. Nothing. Except-that's pure horseshit kid. I can't think of anything that lies more than a photo. In fact every photo is a dirty stinking lie because it's a frozen moment-and time can't be frozen. Some of the biggest lies I've ever run across have been photos. Some of them were of me.
Let's say someone has experienced a violent trauma or betrayal: a child has been raped by a parent or has witnessed the destruction of someone he loves or has been so traumatized by the possibility of beatings and punishments that he's afraid to act. If the trauma is great enough, that person's life may become frozen, emotionally frozen even though he still gets up in the morning, is busy all day, and goes to bed at night. But there's this empty space that begins to fill with rage, rage toward everyone - the perpetrator, the people in the world who haven't suffered, even toward himself. (174)
... not only is life put in new patterns from the air, but it is somehow arrested, frozen into form. (The leaping hare is caught in a marble panel.) A glaze is put over life. There is no flaw, no crack in the surface; a still reservoir, no ripple on its face. Looking down from the air that morning, I felt that stillness rested like a light over the earth. The waterfalls seemed frozen solid; the tops of the trees were still; the river hardly stirred, a serpent gently moving under its shimmering skin.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh
What was best for Charlotte? The answer was obvious. And for once he needed to overcome his selfish desires. "Go home, Charlotte." "So thats it?" She straightened, her lovely pride stiffening her frame. "You are finished with me? Finally?" He discarded the glass and moved so quickly across the room, around the furniture, that he saw the surprise that she couldnt hide. "No." He touched her chin, made her meet his eyes. "I would never be finished with you, Charlotte" Something far more contorted than simple confusion graced her face. "Roman." And her voice was soft, questioning. "Do you think you might come to love me? If you werent... giving... me back? Someday? Just a little?" He was frozen. Absolutely frozen. He couldnt speak a word. She lifted her chin a notch and pressed a soft kiss to his lips at his nonresponse. And still he remained frozen. He saw her walk to the door and grab Bills arm. Heard their footsteps filing down the hall. Leaving. Leaving. Never hearing his whisper that he already did.
Losing myself interests me. The fertile topsoil interests me, sprawling beneath a light dusting of snow, and the snow that crams the trunks and branches of the pines and elms and redwoods, having frozen up their roots, subdues me to consider life and death. What lurks beneath the ground? Surely dead seeds and frozen worms reside deep below that earth, and surely all those presentiments of life lying dormant, dead or dying, scattered and mute, like memories.
I STAND AT THE END OF TIME, ON THE SHORES OF WINTEREICH. SILENCE LAY ON THE LANDSCAPE FROZEN WITH SNOW. BEFORE ME THE MIGHTY GATES OF PURE GLASSLIKE ICE. I'M ALONE IN HEAVY SNOW IN WHITE LONELINESS. IN DISTANCE THUNDER'S RAGING AND IT'S COMING NEAR. I LISTEN TO THE ROAR AND HEAR A VOICE THAT'S CALLING ME. "COME MY CHILD DON'T FEAR TO ENTER INTO MY DOMAIN." WHITE FROZEN KINGDOM OF ICE - INTO BLINDING COLD OF LIGHT I FEEL THE FROST OF PURITY - COLD ENERGY ENTERS ME - WINTEREICH. I WALK INTO THE STORM, IN THE HEART OF WINTEREICH. I GO THROUGH THE GATES AND UP THE SNOWBOUND ICY STAIRS. FIERCE WIND BLOWS BUT I KEEP WALKING INTO HALL OF ICE. "WELCOME HOME MY CHILD I HAVE BEEN EXPECTING YOU". WHITE FROZEN KINGDOM OF ICE - INTO BLINDING COLD OF LIGHT I FEEL THE FROST OF PURITY - COLD ENERGY ENTERS ME - WINTEREICH. WHITE FROZEN KINGDOM OF ICE - INTO BLINDING COLD OF LIGHT I FEEL THE FROST OF PURITY - COLD ENERGY ENTERS ME ALLEGORY OF MY DREAM - COLD AS ICE PURE AS LIGHT I SUBMIT MYSELF TO THEE - INTO EYE OF THE STORM - WINTEREICH.
Wynter's Pass was a picturesque region in the north of Vohlfhein, where the Bleak Hills eventually collapsed into the Frozen Sea. From the back of Mr. Buckles, who had been on a slow trot since sunrise, Monch watched the light glisten off of the frozen branches of the evergreens. As the sun warmed the frozen ground, sending the evening's frost into retreat, Monch absorbed the splendor of it all and wondered how expensive the local real estate must be around here. He then contemplated attempting to find an agent that would represent his interests well. "This land is such a spectacular wonder, " the Lion of Ahriman declared. "It would be very much sought after if they could just do something about the bears, the White Orts, the wolves, the bloodthirsty cannibals, the snow manapes, the frost wizards, the northern bandit gangs, the dire lynxes, the similarly sounding but not related pygmy bloodthirsty cannibals, the demon possessed yaks, the dead-soul animated trees, the... " Monch paused for a moment. "It just occurred to me that this land is really not safe at all. It seems almost everything in it wants to kill me, " the Templar admitted.
The wild worship of lawlessness and the materialist worship of law end in the same void. Nietzsche scales staggering mountains, but he turns up ultimately in Tibet. He sits down beside Tolstoy in the land of nothing and Nirvana. They are both helpless-one because he must not grasp anything, and the other because he must not let go of anything. The Tolstoyan's will is frozen by a Buddhist instinct that all special actions are evil. But the Nietzscheite's will is quite equally frozen by his view that all special actions are good; for if all special actions are good, none of them are special. They stand at the crossroads, and one hates all the roads and the other likes all the roads. The result is-well, some things are not hard to calculate. They stand at the cross-roads.
Jill's face was hard when PE ended, and I had the feeling she was trying not to cry. I tried talking to her in the locker room, but she simply shook her head and headed off for the showers. I was about to go there myself when I heard a shriek. Those of us who were still by the lockers raced to the shower room to see what was happening. Laurel jerked the curtain back from her stall and came running out, oblivious to the fact that she was naked. I gaped. Her skin was covered in a fine sheen of ice. Water droplets from the shower had frozen solid on her skin and in her hair, though in the steamy heat of the rest of the room, they were already starting to melt. I glanced over to the shower itself and noticed that the water coming out of the faucet was also frozen solid.
I used to think I didn't need anyone. I used to think that I could be complete all alone. I tried to shut my eyes to how frozen I was becoming from the cold shards of glass, as they sank down into my heart and blinded me. I had nothing to be obsessed with, because I had no possessions. That was the only thing that comforted me against my fear of the dismal reality. But... I was lonely... I was sad. And I was desolate. I was supposed to be complete, even when alone... but I just couldn't be. I didn't even have someone's name to call out when I was all alone in the darkness. I wanted to tell that certain someone... because I only had one possession... because I was the only thing to protect or lose... I clasped it tightly to my chest. I couldn't afford to let anyone take it away from me. I wanted to tell that special person that I've only been gasping for breath on that painfully cold winter night, bundled up just like that. And I wanted to tell him that I never wanted to go back to that frozen, snow-covered world. And now, I long for our hearts to thaw together, side by side, flushed red and pulsing with love... and to soon become one.
In winter night Massachusetts Street is dismal, the ground's frozen cold, the ruts and pock holes have ice, thin snow slides over the jagged black cracks. The river is frozen to stolidity, waits; hung on a shore with remnant show-off boughs of June- Ice skaters, Swedes, Irish girls, yellers and singers-they throng on the white ice beneath the crinkly stars that have no altar moon, no voice, but down heavy tragic space make halyards of Heaven on in deep, to where the figures fantastic amassed by scientists cream in a cold mass; the veil of Heaven on tiaras and diadems of a great Eternity Brunette called night.
MOUNTAINS OF MIGHT THE STORM IS GETTING COLDER IN A PLACE OF THE FROZEN SUN ALONE ON THE MOUNTAINSIDE BREATHING THE CLEAREST WINDS THE WINDS ARE EVERBLOWING BLOWING OFF THE GLACIERS SNOW DESCEND OF THE VALLEY INTO THE HIGH IMPASSABLE DRIFTS SO RIGHTLY I AM WATCHING THESE MOUNTAINS THAT I KNOW FOREVER STANDING HERE THESE MOUNTAINS NORTHERN FACE MOUNTAINS OF MIGHT ICICLED PEEKS AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE I WILL REIGN THIS PLACE ALONE COLD WINDS BLEW INTO THE VALLEY WALL SNOW WAS DEEPER THERE THE STORM IS GETTING COLDER IN A PLACE OF THE FROZEN SUN ALONE ON THE MOUNTAINSIDE BREATHING THE CLEAREST WINDS MOUNTAINS OF MIGHT