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	<description>Alchemy for Dreams</description>
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		<title>Some wise words</title>
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		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Feb 2014 10:00:54 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[A wild cry of exultation arose from the Heliumite squadron, and with redoubled ferocity they fell upon the Zodangan fleet. By a pretty maneuver two of the vessels of Helium gained a position above their adversaries, from which they poured upon them from their keel bomb batteries a perfect torrent of exploding bombs.]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>A wild cry of exultation arose from the Heliumite squadron, and with redoubled <strong>ferocity</strong> they fell upon the Zodangan fleet. By a pretty maneuver two of the vessels of Helium gained a position above their adversaries, from which they poured upon them from their keel bomb batteries a perfect <strong>torrent</strong> of exploding bombs.</p>
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		<title>I&#8217;m really not good at being glamorous.</title>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Feb 2014 12:50:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Now, mustering the spare poles from below, and selecting one of hickory, with the bark still investing it, Ahab fitted the end to the socket of the iron. A coil of new tow-line was then unwound, and some fathoms of it taken to the windlass, and stretched to a great tension. Pressing his foot upon]]></description>
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<p>Now, mustering the spare poles from below, and selecting one of <strong>hickory</strong>, with the bark still investing it, <strong>Ahab</strong> fitted the end to the socket of the iron. A coil of new tow-line was then unwound, and some fathoms of it taken to the windlass, and stretched to a great tension. Pressing his foot upon it, till the rope hummed like a harp-string, then eagerly bending over it, and seeing no strandings, Ahab exclaimed, &#8220;<em>Good! and now for the seizings.</em>&#8221;</p>
<p>
</p>
<h2>land-like feeling towards the sea </h2>
<p class="lead">At one extremity the rope was <strong>unstranded</strong>, and the separate spread yarns were all braided and woven round the socket of the harpoon; the pole was then driven hard up into the socket.</p>
<h2>What about some nice looking list?</h2>
<ul>
<li>Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet</li>
<li>Consectetur adipiscing elit</li>
<li>Integer molestie lorem at massa</li>
<li>Facilisis in pretium nisl aliquet</li>
<li>Nulla volutpat aliquam velit
<ul>
<li>Phasellus iaculis neque</li>
<li>Purus sodales ultricies</li>
<li>Vestibulum laoreet porttitor sem</li>
<li>Ac tristique libero volutpat at</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>Faucibus porta lacus fringilla vel</li>
<li>Aenean sit amet erat nunc</li>
<li>Eget porttitor lorem</li>
</ul>
<p>Ahab moodily stalked away with the weapon; the sound of his ivory leg, and the sound of the hickory pole, both hollowly ringing along every plank. But ere he entered his cabin, light, unnatural, half-bantering, yet most piteous sound was heard. Oh, Pip! thy wretched laugh, thy idle but <strong>unresting</strong> eye; all thy strange mummeries not unmeaningly blended with the black tragedy of the melancholy ship, and mocked it!</p>
<p>Penetrating further and further into the heart of the Japanese cruising ground, the <strong>Pequod</strong> was soon all astir in the fishery. Often, in mild, pleasant weather, for twelve, fifteen, eighteen, and twenty hours on the stretch, they were engaged in the boats, steadily pulling, or sailing, or paddling after the whales, or for an interlude of sixty or seventy minutes calmly awaiting their uprising; though with but small <strong>success</strong> for their pains.</p>
<div class="row">
<div class="col-md-6"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-35" alt="image-10-normal" src="http://sweetsoap.com.br/site/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/image-10-normal.jpg" width="1200" height="800"></div>
<div class="col-md-6 element-short-top">
<blockquote><p>She explained that they had as much as thirty pounds in gold, besides a five-pound note, and suggested that with that they might get upon a train at St. Albans or New Barnet.</p>
</blockquote>
</div>
</div>
<p>These are the times, when in his whale-boat the rover softly feels a certain filial, <strong>confident</strong>, land-like feeling towards the sea; that he regards it as so much flowery earth; and the distant ship revealing only the tops of her masts, seems struggling forward, not through high rolling waves, but through the tall grass of a rolling prairie: as when the western emigrants&#8217; horses only show their erected ears, while their hidden bodies widely wade through the amazing <strong>verdure</strong>.</p>
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		<title>In a wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet.</title>
		<link>https://sweetsoap.com.br/site/in-a-wardrobe-were-many-green-dresses-made-of-silk-and-satin-and-velvet-and-all-of-them-fitted-dorothy-exactly/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 20 Dec 2013 10:30:34 +0000</pubDate>
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		<title>No time for games, let&#8217;s play</title>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Nov 2013 08:24:41 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury, in the hope of getting out of danger Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the water mains near the railway]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Since then he had been skulking along towards <strong>Maybury</strong>, in the hope of getting out of danger <strong>Londonward</strong>. People were hiding in trenches and cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the water mains near the railway arch smashed, and the water bubbling out like a spring upon the road.</p>
<p>
</p>
<blockquote><p>When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my study, and I looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled now.</p></blockquote>
<p>That was the story I got from him, bit by bit. We lit no lamp for fear of attracting the <strong>Martians</strong>, and ever and again our hands would touch upon bread or meat. As he talked, things about us came darkly out of the darkness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose trees outside the window grew distinct. It would seem that a number of men or animals had rushed across the lawn. I began to see his face, blackened and haggard, as no doubt mine was also.</p>
<p>When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my <strong>study</strong>, and I looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become a valley of ashes. The fires had <strong>dwindled</strong> now. Where flames had been there were now streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of shattered and gutted houses and blasted and blackened trees that the night had hidden stood out now gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn. Yet here and there some object had had the luck to escape&#8211;a white <strong>railway</strong> signal here, the end of a greenhouse there, white and fresh amid the wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare had destruction been so indiscriminate and so universal. And shining with the growing light of the east, three of the metallic giants stood about the pit, their cowls rotating as though they were surveying the desolation they had made.</p>
<p>It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again puffs of vivid green <em>vapour</em> streamed up and out of it towards the brightening dawn&#8211;streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
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		<title>We are masters of the unsaid words.</title>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 01 Nov 2013 13:21:38 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[Now, mustering the spare poles from below, and selecting one of hickory, with the bark still investing it, Ahab fitted the end to the socket of the iron. A coil of new tow-line was then unwound, and some fathoms of it taken to the windlass, and stretched to a great tension. Pressing his foot upon]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Now, mustering the spare poles from below, and selecting one of <strong>hickory</strong>, with the bark still investing it, <strong>Ahab</strong> fitted the end to the socket of the iron. A coil of new tow-line was then unwound, and some fathoms of it taken to the windlass, and stretched to a great tension. Pressing his foot upon it, till the rope hummed like a harp-string, then eagerly bending over it, and seeing no strandings, Ahab exclaimed, &#8220;<em>Good! and now for the seizings.</em>&#8221;</p>
<p></p>
<p>At one extremity the rope was unstranded, and the separate spread yarns were all braided and woven round the socket of the harpoon; the pole was then driven hard up into the socket; from the lower end the rope was traced half-way along the pole&#8217;s length, and firmly secured so, with <strong>intertwistings</strong> of twine. This done, pole, iron, and rope&mdash;like the Three Fates&mdash;remained inseparable, and Ahab moodily stalked away with the weapon; the sound of his ivory leg, and the sound of the hickory pole, both hollowly ringing along every plank. But ere he entered his cabin, light, unnatural, half-bantering, yet most piteous sound was heard. Oh, Pip! thy wretched laugh, thy idle but <strong>unresting</strong> eye; all thy strange mummeries not unmeaningly blended with the black tragedy of the melancholy ship, and mocked it!</p>
<p>Penetrating further and further into the heart of the Japanese cruising ground, the <strong>Pequod</strong> was soon all astir in the fishery. Often, in mild, pleasant weather, for twelve, fifteen, eighteen, and twenty hours on the stretch, they were engaged in the boats, steadily pulling, or sailing, or paddling after the whales, or for an interlude of sixty or seventy minutes calmly awaiting their uprising; though with but small <strong>success</strong> for their pains.
</p>
<h2 class="bordered">Words are only painted fire a look is the fire itself.</h2>
<p>At such times, under an abated sun; afloat all day upon smooth, slow heaving <strong>swells</strong>; seated in his boat, light as a birch canoe; and so sociably mixing with the soft waves themselves, that like hearth-stone cats they purr against the gunwale; these are the times of dreamy quietude, when beholding the <strong>tranquil</strong> beauty and brilliancy of the ocean&#8217;s skin, one forgets the tiger heart that pants beneath it; and would not willingly remember, that this velvet paw but conceals a remorseless fang.</p>
<p><img class="alignright size-medium wp-image-132" src="http://omega.oxygenna.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/image-10-normal-300x200.jpg" alt="image-10-normal" width="300" height="200"></p>
<p>These are the times, when in his whale-boat the rover softly feels a certain filial, <strong>confident</strong>, land-like feeling towards the sea; that he regards it as so much flowery earth; and the distant ship revealing only the tops of her masts, seems struggling forward, not through high rolling waves, but through the tall grass of a rolling prairie: as when the western emigrants&#8217; horses only show their erected ears, while their hidden bodies widely wade through the amazing <strong>verdure</strong>.</p>
<p><!--more--></p>
<p>The long-drawn virgin vales; the mild blue <strong>hill-sides</strong>; as over these there steals the hush, the hum; you almost swear that play-wearied children lie sleeping in these solitudes, in some glad May-time, when the flowers of the woods are plucked. And all this mixes with your most mystic mood; so that fact and fancy, half-way meeting, <strong>interpenetrate</strong>, and form one seamless whole.</p>
<p>Nor did such soothing scenes, however temporary, fail of at least as temporary an effect on Ahab. But if these secret golden keys did seem to open in him his own secret golden treasuries, yet did his breath upon them prove but tarnishing.</p>
<p>Oh, grassy glades! oh, ever vernal endless landscapes in the soul; in ye,&mdash;though long parched by the dead drought of the earthy life,&mdash;in ye, men yet may roll, like young horses in new morning clover; and for some few fleeting moments, feel the cool <strong>dew</strong> of the life immortal on them. Would to God these blessed calms would last. But the mingled, mingling threads of life are woven by warp and woof: calms crossed by storms, a storm for every calm. There is no steady unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed gradations, and at the last one pause:&mdash;through infancy&#8217;s unconscious spell, boyhood&#8217;s thoughtless faith, adolescence&#8217; doubt (the common doom), then scepticism, then disbelief, resting at last in manhood&#8217;s pondering repose of If. But once gone through, we trace the round again; and are infants, boys, and men, and Ifs eternally. Where lies the final harbor, whence we unmoor no more? In what rapt ether sails the world, of which the weariest will never weary? Where is the <strong>foundling&#8217;s</strong> father hidden? Our souls are like those orphans whose unwedded mothers die in bearing them: the secret of our paternity lies in their grave, and we must there to learn it.</p>
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