Every idea is an incitement. It offers itself for belief, and if believed it is acted on unless some other belief outweighs it or some failure of energy stifles the movement at its birth. The only difference between the expression of an opinion and an incitement is the speaker's enthusiasm for the result.
Oliver Wendell Holmes
Overprotecting intellectual property is as harmful as underprotecting it. Creativity is impossible without a rich public domain. Nothing today, likely nothing since we tamed fire, is genuinely new: Culture, like science and technology, grows by accretion, each new creator building on the works of those who came before. Overprotection stifles the very creative forces it's supposed to nurture.
In classic noir fiction and film, it is always hot. Fans whirr in sweltering hotel rooms, sweat forms on a stranger's brow, the muggy air stifles - one can hardly breathe. Come nightfall, there is no relief, only the darkness that allows illicit lovers to meet, the trusted to betray, and murderers to act.
Some people will say, "Why read a comic book? It stifles the imagination. If you read a novel you imagine what people are like. If you read a comic, it's showing you." The only answer I can give is, "You can read a Shakespeare play, but does that mean you wouldn't want to see it on the stage?
To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and releases him for ten seconds to live, to run, ten seconds of life; receives him again and again and often forever.
Erich Maria Remarque
It's really going to happen. I really won't ever go back to school. Not ever. I'll never be famous or leave anything worthwhile behind. I'll never go to college or have a job. I won't see my brother grow up. I won't travel, never earn money, never drive, never fall in love or leave home or get my own house. It's really, really true. A thought stabs up, growing from my toes and ripping through me, until it stifles everything else and becomes the only thing I'm thinking. It fills me up like a silent scream.
Of course, you don't have to have a degree to be rich. You just have to have ideas. Maybe having a degree sets you back, for it stuffs you into tick-tock [the daily grind of work], and perhaps that stifles your creative mind. But the fact is that many millionaires have few educational qualifications of any kind at all. However, they still have knowledge. The difference is, they have knowledge they can sell, and others have the "common knowledge" of tick-tock, which isn't worth as much, if anything at all.
A leadership comfort zone brings stagnancy, deprives one of innovation, stifles growth and frustrates both the leader and the team they lead. Your personal preferences like leadership style, communication style, prejudices, habits and mannerisms must be effectively managed so that they do not work against you. You have to be careful that your strengths do not end up becoming a hindering comfort zone. Seek to lead, driven by a cause.
From the earth, from the air, sustaining forces pour into us-mostly from the earth. To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and releases him fro ten seconds to live, to run, ten seconds of life; receives him again and often for ever.
Erich Maria Remarque
This system that has been created for us, stifles the mind, thus the profuse amount of mental illness among society. To hold back a fluid being from mental development is to ask for trouble. When society begins to exhibit the symptoms of this break down, the creators of this system decided to label the behavior mental illnesses, so as to ensure that blame is placed upon the individual. You cannot blame someone who might have developed into someone great, for the break down of their mental constitution; it's to be expected.
In Iraq #1 we stayed within U.N. mandates, limited our response, went home after Kuwait was freed - and were censured for allowing Shiites and Kurds to be butchered and not going to Baghdad when the road was open and the dictator tottering. In Iraq #2 we removed the tyrant at less cost than the liberation of Kuwait during the earlier war, stayed on to ensure freedom and fair representation for various groups - and are being castigated for either using too little force to ensure needed order or too much power that stifles indigenous aspirations and turns popular opinion against us.
Victor Davis Hanson
No one was ever born without that light or flame of life. Some event, some person stifles or drowns it altogether. I was always tempted to resuscitate such men by my own joyousness or luminosity. When I break glasses in a night club, as the Russians do, when my unconscious breaks out in wild rebellions, it is against life which has crippled these idealistic, romantic men. I respect these men, cold, pure, faithful, devoted, moral, delicate, sensitive, and unequal to life, more than I respect the tough-minded ones who return three blows to one received, who kill those who hurt them.
No one was ever born without that light or flame of life. Some event, some person stifles or drowns it altogether. I was always tempted to resuscitate such men by my own joyousness or luminosity.When I break glasses in a night club, as the Russians do, when my unconscious breaks out in wild rebellions, it is against life which has crippled these idealistic, romantic men. I respect these men, cold, pure, faithful, devoted, moral, delicate, sensitive, and unequal to life, more than I respect the tough-minded ones who return three blows to one received, who kill those who hurt them.
This system that has been created for us, stifles the mind, thus why some suffer from mental illness; especially those who internalize their condition. To hold back a fluid being from mental development is asking for trouble. In anticipation of this, the creators of this chaotic system, thought to create a response to such a breakdown, and when society began to display such behaviors, they created mental illness diagnoses, so as to ensure that blame could be placed on the individual for their behavior. You cannot blame someone who might have developed into someone great, for the break down of their mental constitution; it's to be expected in such a system as we have.
It's rather the possibility of friendship, unencumbered by feelings of attraction or shyness; the possibility of working on the same wavelength, as it were, with someone who understands you because he's a boy as you are, or a girl as you are. Committee work stifles the imagination, because people have to work down to the common denominator of what would be minimally acceptable to everyone. But friendship exalts the imagination. Indeed it is one of the things that the ancients said friendship was for. Plato suggests in Symposium that one of the highest forms of friendship is one whose love issues forth in beautiful and virtuous deeds, for thus "the partnership between [the friends] will be far closer and the bond of affection far stronger than between ordinary parents, because the children that they share surpass human children by being immortal as well as more beautiful.
Extremism stifles true progression in all fields of human advancement; it is a detriment to everything but war, tribalism and the personal power of Nietzschean entities, striving only for the narcissistic vindication of their ego and will. The enlightened mind knows that all is challengeable, ergo questions all and thus, learns and grows; progression. The weak and narrow mind makes its beliefs sacrosanct; fearful of challenge, their creed becomes unalterable, defended with violence. Political extremists, much like religious zealots, are the latter. They destroy what they cannot convert. They annihilate those they cannot control, or force to conform. They have found no peace in life, no love, and so promote war and division, as emotional cripples - inflicting their own pain and misery and malignant stupidity on the world. Their language binds people together, but only by stirring the darkest excesses of the soul; language of hate, and intolerance, fear and conspiracy, and the need for vengeance. In war-scarred Europe, these cripples direct mass-psychology, and would make the world in their own likeness; mutilated by violence and tribalism and hate.
Daniel S. Fletcher
to cheat your way into a job bigger than your mind can handle is to become a fear-corroded ape on borrowed motions and borrowed time, and to settle down into a job that requires less than your mind's full capacity is to cut your motor and sentence yourself to another kind of motion: decay - that your work is the process of achieving your values, and to lose your ambition for values is to lose your ambition to live - that your body is a machine, but your mind is its driver, and you must drive as far as your mind will take you, with achievement as the goal of your road - that the man who has no purpose is a machine that coasts downhill at the mercy of any boulder to crash in the first chance ditch, that the man who stifles his mind is a stalled machine slowly going to rust, that the man who lets a leader prescribe his course is a wreck being towed to the scrap heap, and the man who makes another man his goal is a hitchhiker no driver should ever pick up - that your work is the purpose of your life, and you must speed past any killer who assumes the right to stop you, that any value you might find outside your work, any other loyalty or love, can be only travelers you choose to share your journey and must be travelers going on their own power in the same direction.
Productiveness is your acceptance of morality, your recognition of the fact that you choose to live-that productive work is the process by which man's consciousness controls his existence, a constant process of acquiring knowledge and shaping matter to fit one's purpose, of translating an idea into physical form, of remaking the earth in the image of one's values-that all work is creative work if done by a thinking mind, and no work is creative if done by a blank who repeats in uncritical stupor a routine he has learned from others-that your work is yours to choose, and the choice is as wide as your mind, that nothing more is possible to you and nothing less is human-that to cheat your way into a job bigger than your mind can handle is to become a fear-corroded ape on borrowed motions and borrowed time, and to settle down into a job that requires less than your mind's full capacity is to cut your motor and sentence yourself to another kind of motion: decay-that your work is the process of achieving your values, and to lose your ambition for values is to lose your ambition to live-that your body is a machine, but your mind is its driver, and you must drive as far as your mind will take you, with achievement as the goal of your road-that the man who has no purpose is a machine that coasts downhill at the mercy of any boulder to crash in the first chance ditch, that the man who stifles his mind is a stalled machine slowly going to rust, that the man who lets a leader prescribe his course is a wreck being towed to the scrap heap, and the man who makes another man his goal is a hitchhiker no driver should ever pick up-that your work is the purpose of your life, and you must speed past any killer who assumes the right to stop you, that any value you might find outside your work, any other loyalty or love, can be only travelers you choose to share your journey and must be travelers going on their own power in the same direction.
Amy: Oh, typical bloke. Straight to fixing his motor. The Doctor: Well, that's the thing, Amy. I am not a typical bloke. Amy: Sorry, did I do something wrong? 'Cause I'm getting kind of mixed signals here! The Doctor: Mixed signals? How? Amy: Oh, come on. You turn up in the middle of the night, get me out of my bed in my nightie, which you then don't let me change out of for ages, and take me for a spin in your time machine? No, no, you're right, no mixed signals there. That is just a signal! Like a great, big Bat-signal in the sky. "Get your coat, love, the Doctor is in." The Doctor:... No! No! Nonononononono, it's... not like that. That's not what I'm like! Amy: Then what are you like? The Doctor: I dunno, Gandalf. Like a space Gandalf. Or that little green guy in Star Wars... [spins around, making a lightsaber sound effect] Amy: [stifles a chuckle] You really are not. You. Are. A bloke. The Doctor: I'm the Doctor. Amy: Every room you walk into, you laugh at all the men and show off to all the girls. The Doctor: Do not. Amy: What about Rory? [the Doctor snort-laughs, gesturing toward his nose] You laughed! The Doctor: No, that was just an involuntary snort... of... fondness! Amy: You are a bloke and you don't know it. [puts her arms around him] And here I am to help. The Doctor: [pushing her away] That is not why you're here. Amy: Then why am I here? The Doctor: Because! [lowers his voice] Because I can't see it anymore. Amy: See what? The Doctor: I'm 907. After a while... you just can't see it! Amy: See what? The Doctor: Everything! I look at a star and it's just a big ball of burning gas and I know how it began and I know how it ends and I was probably there both times. After a while, everything is just stuff! That's the problem. You make all of space and time your backyard and what do you have? A backyard. But you, you can see it. And when you see it, I see it. Amy: And that's the only reason you took me with you? The Doctor: There are worse reasons. Amy: [snorts] I was certainly hoping so. [pause] Does that mean I'm not the first, then? There've been others travelling with you? The Doctor: [chuckles nervously] Yeah, sure. Loads of 'em, but just friends. You know, chums, pals, mates, buddies-not mates, forget mates. Amy: And out of all those friends, how many would you say, just out of curiosity, were girls? The Doctor: [getting increasingly uncomfortable] Oh... some of them, I suppose. Must have been. Amy: "Some?" The Doctor: It's hard to tell. It's a grey area. Amy: Under half, over half? The Doctor: Probably... slightly... a little bit over? Amy: Hmm. Young? The Doctor: Everyone's young, compared to me. Amy: [chuckles] Hot? The Doctor: No, no no no no no no, none of them. Not really. Not at all. Probably not... [scratches his cheek nervously]... maybe one or two. I didn't really notice. Amy: Well, this big ol' machine must have some kind of visual records. The Doctor: Oh, god, I mean no-and anyway, they're voice-locked! Amy: [laughs] Oh, voice-locked. So I'd just have to say... "Show me all visual records of previous TARDIS inhabitants?" The Doctor: No, nonono, I mean voice-locked. I would have to say, "Show me all visual records of previous TARDIS inhabitants." Amy: Awww. Thank you. The Doctor: No, no! No! No! [The TARDIS makes some noises as pictures of past female companions flip by on the viewscreen] Amy: Ha-ha! Ooh, Gandalf! The Doctor: [to the TARDIS] Thanks. Thanks, dear. Miss out the metal dog, why don't you? Amy: Is that a leather bikini? [pictures of Leela start to flip by] The Doctor: Right! That's it. Rory. We're going to find Rory, and we're gonna find him now! Amy: He's at his stag night. The Doctor: Well, then. Let's make it a great one.