The AIDS crisis is evidence of a world in which nothing important is regional, local, limited; in which everything that can circulate does, and every problem is, or is destined to become, worldwide.
One staff aids a traveler, but a bundle of staves is a heavy burden.--_Spurgeon._
The great work of the present for every man, and every organization of men, who would improve social conditions, is the work of education — the propagation of ideas. It is only as it aids this that anything else can avail.
Religion may be learned on Sunday, but it is lived in the week-day's work. The torch of religion may be lit in the church, but it does its burning in the shop and on the street. Religion seeks its life in prayer, but it lives its life in deeds. It is planted in the closet, but it does its growing out in the world. It plumes itself for flight in songs of praise, but its actual flights are in works of love. It resolves and meditates on faithfulness as it reads its Christian lesson in the Book of Truth, but "faithful is that faithful does." It puts its armor on in all the aids and helps of the sanctuary as its dressing-room, but it combats for the right, the noble, and the good in all the activities of practical existence, and its battle ground is the whole broad field of life.--_John Doughty._
The smallest effort is not lost, Each wavelet on the ocean tost Aids in the ebb-tide or the flow; Each rain-drop makes some floweret blow; Each struggle lessens human woe.
Nihil agit qui diffidentem verbis solatur suis; / Is est amicus qui in re dubia re juvat, ubi re est opus=--He does nothing who seeks to console a desponding man with words; a friend is one who aids with deeds at a critical time when deeds are called for.
~Politeness.~--Politeness is fictitious benevolence. It supplies the place of it among those who see each other only in public, or but little. Depend upon it, the want of it never fails to produce something disagreeable to one or other. I have always applied to good breeding what Addison, in his "Cato," says of honor: "Honor's a sacred tie: the law of kings; the noble mind's distinguishing perfection; that aids and strengthens Virtue where it meets her, and imitates her actions where she is not."--_Johnson._
The laws in a democracy are always true exponents of the character, the tastes, habits, and passions of the people. The dominant passion of our people at the present moment is the acquisition of material wealth, either for its own sake, or for the sake of the ease, independence, and distinction it is supposed to be able to secure. Take any ten thousand men at random, and ask them what they most desire of government, and they will answer you, if they answer you honestly, — Such laws as will facilitate the acquisition of wealth. The facilitating of the acquisition of wealth is at the bottom of every question which has any bearing on our elections. Let these men vote, and they will vote for such laws as they believe will most effectually secure this end. But suppose such laws to be enacted, how many out of the ten thousand will be in a condition to take advantage of them? Certainly, not more than one in a hundred. There will be, then, nine thousand and nine hundred men joining with one hundred to enact laws which in their operation are for the exclusive benefit of the one hundred. The whole action, the inevitable action, of every popular government, where wealth is the dominant passion of the people , is to foster the continued growth of inequality of property. The tendency of all laws passed, if passed by the many, will be to concentrate the property in the hands of the few, because each one who aids in passing them hopes that his will be the hands in which it is to be concentrated; — at least, such will be the tendency, till matters become so bad that the many in their madness and desperation are driven to attempt the insane remedy of agrarian laws [redistribution of landed property /so as to achieve a uniform division of land — OED ]. When, under our new system of industry, which allows little personal intercourse between landlord and tenant, proprietor and operative, which connects the operative simply with the mill and the overseer, the concentration of property in a few hands becomes general, it involves the most fatal results. [ Brownson’s Quarterly Review , January, 1846.]
If you cannot grok the overall structure of a program while taking a shower, e.g., with no external memory aids, you are not ready to code it.
"Section 2.4.3.5 AWNS (Acceptor Wait for New Cycle State). In AWNS the AH function indicates that it has received a multiline message byte. In AWNS the RFD message must be sent false and the DAC message must be sent passive true. The AH function must exit the AWNS and enter: (1) The ANRS if DAV is false (2) The AIDS if the ATN message is false and neither: (a) The LADS is active (b) Nor LACS is active" -- from the IEEE Standard Digital Interface for Programmable Instrumentation
But now the goddess mother, mov'd with grief, And pierc'd with pity, hastens her relief. A branch of healing dittany she brought, Which in the Cretan fields with care she sought: Rough is the stern, which woolly leafs surround; The leafs with flow'rs, the flow'rs with purple crown'd, Well known to wounded goats; a sure relief To draw the pointed steel, and ease the grief. This Venus brings, in clouds involv'd, and brews Th' extracted liquor with ambrosian dews, And odorous panacee. Unseen she stands, Temp'ring the mixture with her heav'nly hands, And pours it in a bowl, already crown'd With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepar'd to bathe the wound. The leech, unknowing of superior art Which aids the cure, with this foments the part; And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart. Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands: The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, Moves up, and follows of its own accord, And health and vigor are at once restor'd. Iapis first perceiv'd the closing wound, And first the footsteps of a god he found. "Arms! arms!" he cries; "the sword and shield prepare, And send the willing chief, renew'd, to war. This is no mortal work, no cure of mine, Nor art's effect, but done by hands divine. Some god our general to the battle sends; Some god preserves his life for greater ends."
During all these trials he had felt himself encouraged and even uplifted, at times, by a secret force that he possessed within himself. The soul aids the body, and at certain moments, raises it. It is the only bird which bears up its own cage.
He spake, and, downward sway'd, fell resupine, With his huge neck aslant. All-conqu'ring sleep Soon seized him. From his gullet gush'd the wine With human morsels mingled, many a blast Sonorous issuing from his glutted maw. Then, thrusting far the spike of olive-wood Into the embers glowing on the hearth, I heated it, and cheer'd my friends, the while, Lest any should, through fear, shrink from his part. But when that stake of olive-wood, though green, Should soon have flamed, for it was glowing hot, I bore it to his side. Then all my aids Around me gather'd, and the Gods infused Heroic fortitude into our hearts. They, seizing the hot stake rasp'd to a point, Bored his eye with it, and myself, advanced To a superior stand, twirled it about. As when a shipwright with his wimble bores Tough oaken timber, placed on either side Below, his fellow-artists strain the thong Alternate, and the restless iron spins, So, grasping hard the stake pointed with fire, We twirl'd it in his eye; the bubbling blood Boil'd round about the brand; his pupil sent A scalding vapour forth that sing'd his brow, And all his eye-roots crackled in the flame. As when the smith an hatchet or large axe Temp'ring with skill, plunges the hissing blade Deep in cold water, (whence the strength of steel) So hiss'd his eye around the olive-wood. The howling monster with his outcry fill'd The hollow rock, and I, with all my aids, Fled terrified. He, plucking forth the spike From his burnt socket, mad with anguish, cast The implement all bloody far away. Then, bellowing, he sounded forth the name Of ev'ry Cyclops dwelling in the caves Around him, on the wind-swept mountain-tops; They, at his cry flocking from ev'ry part, Circled his den, and of his ail enquired.
Trojans and Lycians and close-fighting sons Of Dardanus, oh now, my friends, be men; Now, wheresoever through the fleet dispersed, Call into mind the fury of your might! For I have seen, myself, Jove rendering vain The arrows of their mightiest. Man may know With ease the hand of interposing Jove, Both whom to glory he ordains, and whom He weakens and aids not; so now he leaves The Grecians, but propitious smiles on us. Therefore stand fast, and whosoever gall'd By arrow or by spear, dies--let him die; It shall not shame him that he died to serve His country, but his children, wife and home, With all his heritage, shall be secure, Drive but the Grecians from the shores of Troy.
Jean Valjean shuddered with the continual tremor of the unhappy. For them everything is hostile and suspicious. They distrust the day because it enables people to see them, and the night because it aids in surprising them. A little while before he had shivered because the garden was deserted, and now he shivered because there was some one there.
To him replied his patient father bold. I will inform thee. Mark. Weigh well my words. Will Pallas and the everlasting Sire Alone suffice? or need we other aids?
The toiling masses of the people--the workmen, the peasants, the soldiers--are thirsting for elementary and advanced instruction. But they are also thirsting for education. Neither the government nor the intellectuals nor any other power outside of themselves can give it to them. The school, the book, the theatre, the museum, etc., may here by only aids. They have their own ideas, formed by their social position, so different from the position of those ruling classes and intellectuals who have hitherto created culture. They have their own ideas, their own emotions, their own ways of approaching the problems of personality and society. The city labourer, according to his own fashion, the rural toiler according to his, will each build his clear world-conception permeated with the class-idea of the workers. There is no more superb or beautiful phenomenon than the one of which our nearest descendants will be both witnesses and participants: The building by collective Labour of its own general, rich and free soul.
To whom this answer Dolon straight returned Son of Eumedes. With unfeigning truth Simply and plainly will I utter all. Hector, with all the Senatorial Chiefs, Beside the tomb of sacred Ilius sits Consulting, from the noisy camp remote. But for the guards, Hero! concerning whom Thou hast inquired, there is no certain watch And regular appointed o'er the camp; The native Trojans (for _they_ can no less) Sit sleepless all, and each his next exhorts To vigilance; but all our foreign aids, Who neither wives nor children hazard here, Trusting the Trojans for that service, sleep.
But the eternal father throned on high With fear fill'd Ajax; panic-fixt he stood, His seven-fold shield behind his shoulder cast, And hemm'd by numbers, with an eye askant, Watchful retreated. As a beast of prey Retiring, turns and looks, so he his face Turn'd oft, retiring slow, and step by step. As when the watch-dogs and assembled swains Have driven a tawny lion from the stalls, Then, interdicting him his wish'd repast, Watch all the night, he, famish'd, yet again Comes furious on, but speeds not, kept aloof By frequent spears from daring hands, but more By flash of torches, which, though fierce, he dreads, Till, at the dawn, sullen he stalks away; So from before the Trojans Ajax stalk'd Sullen, and with reluctance slow retired. His brave heart trembling for the fleet of Greece. As when (the boys o'erpower'd) a sluggish ass, On whose tough sides they have spent many a staff, Enters the harvest, and the spiry ears Crops persevering; with their rods the boys Still ply him hard, but all their puny might Scarce drives him forth when he hath browsed his fill, So, there, the Trojans and their foreign aids With glittering lances keen huge Ajax urged, His broad shield's centre smiting. He, by turns, With desperate force the Trojan phalanx dense Facing, repulsed them, and by turns he fled, But still forbad all inroad on the fleet. Trojans and Greeks between, alone, he stood A bulwark. Spears from daring hands dismiss'd Some, piercing his broad shield, there planted stood, While others, in the midway falling, spent Their disappointed rage deep in the ground.
Then Clausus came, who led a num'rous band Of troops embodied from the Sabine land, And, in himself alone, an army brought. 'T was he, the noble Claudian race begot, The Claudian race, ordain'd, in times to come, To share the greatness of imperial Rome. He led the Cures forth, of old renown, Mutuscans from their olive-bearing town, And all th' Eretian pow'rs; besides a band That follow'd from Velinum's dewy land, And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame, And mountaineers, that from Severus came, And from the craggy cliffs of Tetrica, And those where yellow Tiber takes his way, And where Himella's wanton waters play. Casperia sends her arms, with those that lie By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli: The warlike aids of Horta next appear, And the cold Nursians come to close the rear, Mix'd with the natives born of Latine blood, Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood. Not thicker billows beat the Libyan main, When pale Orion sets in wintry rain; Nor thicker harvests on rich Hermus rise, Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the skies, Than stand these troops: their bucklers ring around; Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground.
He said; they all unanimous approach'd, Sloping their shields, and stood. On the other side His aids Æneas call'd, with eyes toward Paris, Deiphobus, Agenor, turn'd, His fellow-warriors bold; them follow'd all Their people as the pastured flock the ram To water, by the shepherd seen with joy; Such joy Æneas felt, seeing, so soon, That numerous host attendant at his call. Then, for Alcathoüs, into contest close Arm'd with long spears they rush'd; on every breast Dread rang the brazen corselet, each his foe Assailing opposite; but two, the rest Surpassing far, terrible both as Mars, Æneas and Idomeneus, alike Panted to pierce each other with the spear. Æneas, first, cast at Idomeneus, But, warn'd, he shunn'd the weapon, and it pass'd. Quivering in the soil Æneas' lance Stood, hurl'd in vain, though by a forceful arm. Not so the Cretan; at his waist he pierced Oenomaüs, his hollow corselet clave, And in his midmost bowels drench'd the spear; Down fell the Chief, and dying, clench'd the dust. Instant, his massy spear the King of Crete Pluck'd from the dead, but of his radiant arms Despoil'd him not, by numerous weapons urged; For now, time-worn, he could no longer make Brisk sally, spring to follow his own spear, Or shun another, or by swift retreat Vanish from battle, but the evil day Warded in stationary fight alone. At him retiring, therefore, step by step Deiphobus, who had with bitterest hate Long time pursued him, hurl'd his splendid lance, But yet again erroneous, for he pierced Ascalaphus instead, offspring of Mars; Right through his shoulder flew the spear; he fell Incontinent, and dying, clench'd the dust. But tidings none the brazen-throated Mars Tempestuous yet received, that his own son In bloody fight had fallen, for on the heights Olympian over-arch'd with clouds of gold He sat, where sat the other Powers divine, Prisoners together of the will of Jove. Meantime, for slain Ascalaphus arose Conflict severe; Deiphobus his casque Resplendent seized, but swift as fiery Mars Assailing him, Meriones his arm Pierced with a spear, and from his idle hand Fallen, the casque sonorous struck the ground. Again, as darts the vulture on his prey, Meriones assailing him, the lance Pluck'd from his arm, and to his band retired. Then, casting his fraternal arms around Deiphobus, him young Polites led From the hoarse battle to his rapid steeds And his bright chariot in the distant rear, Which bore him back to Troy, languid and loud- Groaning, and bleeding from his recent wound. Still raged the war, and infinite arose The clamor. Aphareus, Caletor's son, Turning to face Æneas, in his throat Instant the hero's pointed lance received. With head reclined, and bearing to the ground Buckler and helmet with him, in dark shades Of soul-divorcing death involved, he fell. Antilochus, observing Thoön turn'd To flight, that moment pierced him; from his back He ripp'd the vein which through the trunk its course Winds upward to the neck; that vein he ripp'd All forth; supine he fell, and with both hands Extended to his fellow-warriors, died. Forth sprang Antilochus to strip his arms, But watch'd, meantime, the Trojans, who in crowds Encircling him, his splendid buckler broad Smote oft, but none with ruthless point prevail'd Even to inscribe the skin of Nestor's son, Whom Neptune, shaker of the shores, amid Innumerable darts kept still secure. Yet never from his foes he shrank, but faced From side to side, nor idle slept his spear, But with rotation ceaseless turn'd and turn'd To every part, now levell'd at a foe Far-distant, at a foe, now, near at hand. Nor he, thus occupied, unseen escaped By Asius' offspring Adamas, who close Advancing, struck the centre of his shield. But Neptune azure-hair'd so dear a life Denied to Adamas, and render'd vain The weapon; part within his disk remain'd Like a seer'd stake, and part fell at his feet. Then Adamas, for his own life alarm'd, Retired, but as he went, Meriones Him reaching with his lance, the shame between And navel pierced him, where the stroke of Mars Proves painful most to miserable man. There enter'd deep the weapon; down he fell, And in the dust lay panting as an ox Among the mountains pants by peasants held In twisted bands, and dragg'd perforce along; So panted dying Adamas, but soon Ceased, for Meriones, approaching, pluck'd The weapon forth, and darkness veil'd his eyes. Helenus, with his heavy Thracian blade Smiting the temples of Deipyrus, Dash'd off his helmet; from his brows remote It fell, and wandering roll'd, till at his feet Some warrior found it, and secured; meantime The sightless shades of death him wrapp'd around. Grief at that spectacle the bosom fill'd Of valiant Menelaus; high he shook His radiant spear, and threatening him, advanced On royal Helenus, who ready stood With his bow bent. They met; impatient, one, To give his pointed lance its rapid course, And one, to start his arrow from the nerve. The arrow of the son of Priam struck Atrides' hollow corselet, but the reed Glanced wide. As vetches or as swarthy beans Leap from the van and fly athwart the floor, By sharp winds driven, and by the winnower's force, So from the corselet of the glorious Greek Wide-wandering flew the bitter shaft away. But Menelaus the left-hand transpierced Of Helenus, and with the lance's point Fasten'd it to his bow; shunning a stroke More fatal, Helenus into his band Retired, his arm dependent at his side, And trailing, as he went, the ashen beam; There, bold Agenor from his hand the lance Drew forth, then folded it with softest wool Around, sling-wool, and borrow'd from the sling Which his attendant into battle bore. Then sprang Pisander on the glorious Chief The son of Atreus, but his evil fate Beckon'd him to his death in conflict fierce, Oh Menelaus, mighty Chief! with thee. And now they met, small interval between. Atrides hurl'd his weapon, and it err'd. Pisander with his spear struck full the shield Of glorious Menelaus, but his force Resisted by the stubborn buckler broad Fail'd to transpierce it, and the weapon fell Snapp'd at the neck. Yet, when he struck, the heart Rebounded of Pisander, full of hope. But Menelaus, drawing his bright blade, Sprang on him, while Pisander from behind His buckler drew a brazen battle-axe By its long haft of polish'd olive-wood, And both Chiefs struck together. He the crest That crown'd the shaggy casque of Atreus' son Hew'd from its base, but Menelaus him In his swift onset smote full on the front Above his nose; sounded the shatter'd bone, And his eyes both fell bloody at his feet. Convolved with pain he lay; then, on his breast Atrides setting fast his heel, tore off His armor, and exulting thus began.
Where is thy courage, Hector? for thou once Hadst courage. Is it fled? In other days Thy boast hath been that without native troops Or foreign aids, thy kindred and thyself Alone, were guard sufficient for the town. But none of all thy kindred now appears; I can discover none; they stand aloof Quaking, as dogs that hear the lion's roar. We bear the stress, who are but Troy's allies; Myself am such, and from afar I came; For Lycia lies far distant on the banks Of the deep-eddied Xanthus. There a wife I left and infant son, both dear to me, With plenteous wealth, the wish of all who want. Yet urge I still my Lycians, and am prompt Myself to fight, although possessing here Nought that the Greeks can carry or drive hence. But there stand'st thou, neither employed thyself, Nor moving others to an active part For all their dearest pledges. Oh beware! Lest, as with meshes of an ample net, At one huge draught the Grecians sweep you all, And desolate at once your populous Troy! By day, by night, thoughts such as these should still Thy conduct influence, and from Chief to Chief Of the allies should send thee, praying each To make firm stand, all bickerings put away.
I see it plain, Telemachus intends Our slaughter; either he will aids procure From sandy Pylus, or will bring them arm'd From Sparta; such is his tremendous drift. Even to fruitful Ephyre, perchance, He will proceed, seeking some baneful herb Which cast into our cup, shall drug us all.
He spake, and starting far into the van Stood foremost forth; they, wheeling, faced the Greeks. Then, spear in hand, Æneas smote the friend Of Lycomedes, brave Leocritus, Son of Arisbas. Lycomedes saw Compassionate his death, and drawing nigh First stood, then hurling his resplendent lance, Right through the liver Apisaon pierced Offspring of Hippasus, his chest beneath, And, lifeless, instant, on the field he fell. He from Pæonia the deep soil'd to Troy Came forth, Asteropæus sole except, Bravest of all Pæonia's band in arms. Asteropæus saw, and to the van Sprang forth for furious combat well prepared, But room for fight found none, so thick a fence Of shields and ported spears fronted secure The phalanx guarding Menoetiades. For Ajax ranging all the ranks, aloud Admonish'd them that no man yielding ground Should leave Patroclus, or advance before The rest, but all alike fight and stand fast. Such order gave huge Ajax; purple gore Drench'd all the ground; in slaughter'd heaps they fell Trojans and Trojan aids of dauntless hearts And Grecians; for not even they the fight Waged bloodless, though with far less cost of blood, Each mindful to avert his fellow's fate.
Achilles! moderate thy dismay, fear nought. In us behold, in Pallas and in me, Effectual aids, and with consent of Jove; For to be vanquish'd by a River's force Is not thy doom. This foe shall soon be quell'd; Thine eyes shall see it. Let our counsel rule Thy deed, and all is well. Cease not from war Till fast within proud Ilium's walls her host Again be prison'd, all who shall escape; Then (Hector slain) to the Achaian fleet Return; we make the glorious victory thine.
She ceased; her Hector heard intelligent, And quick dissolved the council. All took arms. Wide flew the gates; forth rush'd the multitude, Horsemen and foot, and boisterous stir arose. In front of Ilium, distant on the plain, Clear all around from all obstruction, stands An eminence high-raised, by mortal men Call'd Bateia, but the Gods the tomb Have named it of Myrinna swift in fight. Troy and her aids there set the battle forth.
Nothing less than the frosty light of the cheerful sky, the sight of people passing beyond the bars of the court-yard gate, and the reviving influence of the rest of the bread and meat and beer, would have brought me round. Even with those aids, I might not have come to myself as soon as I did, but that I saw Estella approaching with the keys, to let me out. She would have some fair reason for looking down upon me, I thought, if she saw me frightened; and she would have no fair reason.