. . . there are four women in every man’s heart. The Maid in the Meadow, the Demon Lover, the Stouthearted Woman, the Tall and Quiet Woman.
I have been a multitude of shapes, Before I assumed a consistent form.
Reaper of enemies; strong of grip; One kind with his fathers.
I praise the Lord, the Sovereign of the royal realm, Who has extended his sway over the tract of the world.
Monks congregate like dogs in a kennel, From contact with their superiors they acquire knowledge, Is one the course of the wind, is one the water of the sea? Is one the spark of the fire, of unrestrainable tumult? Monks congregate like wolves, From contact with their superiors they acquire knowledge. They know not when the deep night and dawn divide. Nor what is the course of the wind, or who agitates it, In what place it dies away, on what land it roars.
From warriors ravens grew red And with their leader a host attacked.
Let them make their war. Whence come night and day? Whence will the eagle become gray? Whence is it that night is dark? Whence is it that the linnet is green? The ebullition of the sea, How is it not seen?
Patricia Sun is a solar light of consciousness whose wisdom rays cover the world. Everywhere I travel through out the earth, I find people whose lives have been enhanced and transformed by her luminous work.
So sometime the expectation of the female by a high expectation. Because peoples think that female were weak in term of, like, of the physically and compared to the men.
Boxing is sort of an inevitability. We know they are going to be pounding each other.
Anything that has to do with money, I want to be in that business.