Superman comics are a fable, not of strength, but of disintegration. They appeal to the preadolescent, (sic) mind not because they reiterate grandiose delusions, but because they reiterate a very deep cry for help. Superman's two personalities can be integrated only in one thing: only in death. Only Kryptonite cuts through the disguises of both wimp and hero, and affects the man below the disguises. And what is Kryptonite? Kryptonite is all that remains of his childhood home. It is the remnants of that destroyed childhood home, and the fear of those remnants, which rule Superman's life. The possibility that the shards of that destroyed home might surface prevents him from being intimate- they prevent him from sharing the knowledge that the wimp and the hero are one. The fear of his childhood home prevents him from having pleasure. He fears that to reveal his weakness, and confusion, is, perhaps indirectly, but certainly inevitably, to receive death from the person who received that information. [... ] Far from being invulnerable, Superman is the most vulnerable of beings, because his childhood was destroyed. He can never reintegrate himself by returning to that home- it is gone. It is gone and he is living among aliens to whom he cannot even reveal his rightful name.
I wish to reiterate all the reasons which [my predecessor] has presented in favor of the policy of maintaining a strong navy as the best conservator of our peace with other nations and the best means of securing respect for the assertion of our rights of the defense of our interests, and the exercise of our influence in international matters.
William Howard Taft
But do let me reiterate the spirit of Michigan. It is based upon a deathless loyalty to Michigan and all her ways; an enthusiasm that makes it second nature for Michigan men to spread the gospel of their university to the world's distant outposts; a conviction that nowhere is there a better university, in any way, than this Michigan of ours.
Fielding H. Yost
Although we've used the concept brand communities a couple of times, it's important to reiterate that communities aren't created, they are courted. Most brands will need to court a range of different communities and travel across pools, webs, and hubs if they want to reach the full range of desired consumers.
I am extremely pleased and proud of the achievements of Round Table India. I truly believe in their cause of educating underprivileged children and giving them a new and assured future. I would like to reiterate my support to RTI in providing education to children and would like to support all their endeavors going forward. I will also try and involve my friends and family from the industry to help in this great cause wherever possible.
I'd just like to reiterate that intuition and feeling are two different things. "Feeling" describes the product of emotions while "intuition" describes a honed internal skill of knowing. While feelings will change as emotions come and go; intuition is a description of a known truth whether or not tangible to logic or reason, at the moment.
C. JoyBell C.
Lies About Love We are all liars, because The truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, Whereas letters are fixed, and we live by the letter of truth. The love I feel for my friend, this year, is different from the love I felt last year. If it were not so, it would be a lie. Yet we reiterate love! love! love! as if it were a coin with fixed value instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.
D. H. Lawrence
You are going, Jane?" "I am going, sir." "You are leaving me?" "Yes." "You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?" What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard was it to reiterate firmly, "I am going!" "Jane!" "Mr. Rochester." "Withdraw then, I consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. Go up to your own room, think over all I have said, and, Jane, cast a glance on my sufferings; think of me." He turned away, he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "Oh, Jane! my hope, my love, my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. Then came a deep, strong sob.
I need a drink. Now.' After tossing-fine, throwing-my purse and keys on the couch, I march straight into the kitchen. No more delays; it's time to forget tonight. It's been yet another night like all the other first dates that never meet a second one. When you begin to lose count, that's when it's really time for a drink. Adrian stands there, leaning against the counter in an unbuttoned dress shirt and dark wash jeans. He glances at me as I walk in. 'How was your date?' he asks, taking a swig of his scotch. I brush past him on my mission, opening the cupboard and moving a couple bottles around. I reiterate, 'I need alcohol.' Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him hiding a smile before he says, 'That bad?' My face twitches as I ignore his line of questioning. It is more like a statement he wants me to clarify, even though he already knows the answer. Instead, I ask, 'I have vodka left, don't I?' I stand on my tiptoes in hopes of spotting something in the very back. Nothing. He waltzes over and looks with me, his chin almost touching my shoulder. 'I think you polished that one off after last week's date.' His voice is low right next to my ear, very nearly causing a shiver.