#proverbs class

[dwuerch-blog]

A Wisdom Diploma

What if all those students who recently graduated had taken “wisdom” courses that gave them the keys for a life of success — no matter what profession they chose? For sure, those wisdom courses would have helped us avoid the School of Hard Knocks! That’s a school we go to without realizing we enrolled. Despite all our time and effort, we still haven’t graduated. Why? Because we haven’t tapped…

[itspileofgoodthings]

one time my mom was talking about something, I don’t remember what, and she said “have you ever known the poverty of having nothing to say?” and when I say nothing has ever punctured my heart quite like that statement

[that-one-girls-blog-posts]

learning how to pray the rosary ♡

[nando161mando]

“La seule église qui illumine est celle qui brûle”

Proverbe anarchiste.

🇬🇧 “The only church that illuminates is the one that burns”

Anarchist proverb.

🇮🇹 “L’unica chiesa che illumina è quella che arde”

Proverbio anarchico.

🇪🇦 “La única iglesia que ilumina es la que arde”

Proverbio anarquista.

t.me/primalinea161

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"SCRIPTURES QUOTED AS CHATTELS LOADED BAILIFF IS DEFIED," Toronto Globe. August 15, 1933. Page 9. ---- Nothing to Prevent Removal of Seized Furniture, Is Claim Made --- GUARD VETERAN'S HOME --- "A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and all loving favors rather than silver and gold. The rich and the poor meet together: and the Lord is maker of them all."

Opening with these words, Alex. Kirkwood, leader of the Christian Workers' Brotherhood in York Township, read from Proverbs 22, as C. Blake defied a bailiff's orders not to remove furniture from his home at 523 Northcliffe Boulevard, after they had been distrained for arrears of rent claimed by the landlord. The chattels were seized on Saturday, and late on Sunday night Blake had them taken out of the house and conveyed to a city address. As the last piece was loaded on the truck Kirkwood read the Psalm in the presence of Blake, his wife and child and other members of the brotherhood, and before leaving closed with a brief prayer.

Blake was not at home when the bailiff called on Saturday, and when his wife was called upon to sign a bond undertaking not to move the articles she positively refused. She claimed that, faced with this affront, the bailiff threatened her before leaving.

Before moving the chattels Blake, had Mr. Kirkwood communicate with Joseph Sedgewick of the Attorney-General's Department. As a result, according to Kirkwood, that official declared that, inasmuch as no bond had been given, there was nothing to prevent Blake from moving the furniture.

All day yesterday two members of the brotherhood were posted at the Northcliffe Boulevard address, thinking that the bailiff might return to claim the chattels, He did not put in an appearance, however, but the men remained until nightfall, standing at either entrance with a Bible in their hands. Had the bailiff called, they told The Globe they intended to block his entrance with out-stretched arms holding an open Bible and defy him to push it aside.

[novanhistorian]

Every day I must act normal despite knowing how the contrast between Memphis’s and Sana’s views of authority all traces back to how they see the same quasi-omniscient system exploited and by whom.

[mychlapci]

i need to chill out. i'll go check it out tomorrow. if the exam's happening... then y'know. i'll take it. if she cancelled it, then i'll just sign up for the same exam on a different day. nothing's lost. it's an open book, translation exam. and even if i take it, and i fail, i can just go and take it again anyways.

[wileycap]

I completely ignore the comics because Zuko and Azula's ideal dynamic is:

AZULA [in a letter]: Brother dearest, my latest plan to depose you would involve the faction of Ozai loyalists in the 9th Province. Since the 9th Province is so crucial to rice production, destroying part of the crop and blaming it on your new tax policy concerning the upper classes would be a great way to incite unrest under your rule. This would swiftly lead to your brutal execution. Love, The Rightful Fire Lord, Azula I.

SUKI: See? This is why we should revoke her letter privileges. She's openly threatening you.

ZUKO: No, no, she's onto something. Send a division to oversee the harvest in the 9th Province.

And Zuko, not knowing what else to do but knowing it worked for him, keeps going to Azula's hospital to offer her middling tea, bad Pai Sho strategies and truly horrible proverbs.

ZUKO: So, uh, then you put the White Lotus tile here... and... anyways, you get to go to a flower shop, but. Uh. Flowers are like... people. Um. Sometimes... they take a while to... open up. But once they do, they've got... a silver sandwich inside them...

AZULA: actually i'd like to be tortured please

It's the way IT SHOULD BE.

[fiction-quotes]

At length it became high time to remember the first clause of that great discovery made by the ancient philosopher, for securing health, riches, and wisdom; the infallibility of which has been for generations verified by the enormous fortunes, constantly amassed by chimney-sweepers and other person who get up early and go to bed betimes.

  —  Martin Chuzzlewit (Charles Dickens)

[thecardiganunderthebed]

Left handed

Sirius and Regulus were both left-handed. This was seen as low class in the Black family so they both were forced taught to write with their right hand. Sirius being Sirius never really cared and wrote with his left hand because "I shall write how it is comfortable mother, and my comfort lies in writing with my left hand so.......fuck you <3". But Regulus, oh poor Regulus tried to write so neatly with his right hand to make his mom proud that he would take double the time to write down notes.

That was until he learnt it didn't matter.

On a normal Tuesday morning in his 6th year at Hogwarts Sirius black was feeling an emotion he hadn't felt since the last time he saw Moony in a suit......dumbstruck. He had stopped in his tracks, successfully causing Peter, walking behind him, to fall down.

James frantically tried to look at the subject that had caused Sirius Black to finally and uncharacteristically shut up about how amazing eyeliner was.

"Padfoot you okay?"

"He's writing with his left hand."

"What?"

"I- James, he's writing with his left hand". Offering no more of an explanation the oldest Black brother walked to the Slytherin table as if in a trance. With the determination he was walking with it would take an act of god to stop him. He reached and very deliberately did not look at anyone but his younger brother, writing his potions homework, with his left hand.

"You aren't supposed to stir that 7 times clockwise, it's 3 times clockwise and 4 times anti-clockwise. It makes the midnight blue shade appear quicker."

Regulus looked up to judge whoever had dared try and correct him when he looked up and realised.....oh. Okay.

"Hello to you too dear brother", he said with a raised eyebrow and nothing more.

"You're writing with your left hand'

"So I am."

"It would piss her off if she knew"

"So it would."

A quick flash in Sirius' face reminded Regulus of the look he gave him when Regulus stole cookies for both of them with the help of Kreacher, pure unrestrained pride.

"Well mieux vaut tard que jamais" Sirius said and quickly walked away

And that one proverb told Regulus that he was forgiven, that Sirius understood and most importantly, that he had his brother back.

[dwuerch-blog]

How About a Good Dose of Medicine to Heal What Ails You?

Oh, how I wanted to be my friend, the Class Clown. She could make any situation funny, without even trying. She was my roommate, Lois, at Canyonville Bible Academy in Oregon. She always had me, and others, in stitches. Now, I have a husband who is like that, too! BTW – please forgive me for my incessant referrals to this dear, hilariously funny man. He has surely given me lots of new content for…

[igotanidea]

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

 sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

 Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

[applesauce42069]

i would like to introduce the class to yiddish wit dot com

10/10 archive of yiddish quotes with hits like

and something i have no words for:

[to-be-a-dreamer]

I’ve been reading the Grishaverse books/watching the Netflix show for the first time over the past couple weeks or so and I just have to say that I think it's so funny whenever Kaz gets snarky about Inej's proverbs or Matthias's religious talk or Jesper’s Jesperisms or anyone else being even slightly philosophical or theatrical or whatever because Kaz Brekker is the most dramatic bitch in all of Kerch. Like. I'm pretty sure this kid graduated top of his class from the School of Dramatic One-Liners with a double major in "Commit to the Aesthetic" and "Writing Epic Love Poetry Whilst Maintaining the Bad Guy Reputation". Dude wanted to impress a girl and wasn’t sure if getting the whole ass king of Ravka to find her long-lost parents was enough so he bought an entire warship from his friend who absolutely would have just Given It To Him but noooooo Mr. Protecting-My-Investment over here had to pay a fair price otherwise it doesn’t count.

The only, and I mean the ONLY reason I don't say he's the most dramatic bitch in the entire Grishaverse is because Nikolai Lantsov exists and that man once wore his entire army uniform under his jacket to go volcra hunting in the Shadow Fold on the off chance he would get to make a dramatic reveal at the end. He put a spring-loaded curtain in front of the weapons rack on his personal ship just in case he had guests he wanted to show off for. I wouldn’t be surprised if he did the dramatic flourish every time he opened those curtains for literally no one but himself. I also wouldn’t be surprised if he made that set up after he had guests he wanted to show off for. That curtain either went up two hours before he used it or it was the first thing he built on that ship there is no in between.

I need copious amounts of Expo markers, PowerPoint slides, and glitter to figure out which one of them takes the title it is CLOSE.

[intuitive-revelations]

Headcanon: one of the reasons why Gallifreyan is a) so complex, and b) so inconsistent, is because it's less one language and more a complex mishmash of thousands of languages and dialects.

Think about how one of the reasons English can be complex to learn is because of the mix of Germanic and romance language roots, and now take it up to 11.

While one might expect Gallifrey to be monolingual, given its age and class structure, this probably isn't technically the case. After all, why limit your culture to one language when the average citizen is effectively panlingual (to the point that TARDIS translation circuits are actually dependent on their pilots' knowledge, rather than the other way round)?

Thus, if there once were distinct languages on Gallifrey, they probably have all been merged at this point into modern Gallifrey's super-Esperanto. Add in loan words from notable civilisations across all of spacetime (but likely primarily from Gallifreyan colonies and allies like Dronid, Minyos, Cartego etc.), and it quickly becomes quite unwieldy.

It's also likely that there's a lot of overlap between these sub-languages, which can make distinguishing meaning hard to an outsider. Gallifreyans likely get around this courtesy of their telepathic connections.

TBH, given Time Lord sensibilities, it's likely that every single word variation has its own delicate meanings, derived not just from their societal uses but also from the etymology and history of each one. Canonically (though I don't have a source) we know that there are 30 different words meaning "culture shock", for example, which likely have very minor distinctions in meaning. We also know, unsurprisingly, that there's at least 208 tenses to help in describing time travel.

As an example - imagine being a Sunari ambassador at an embassy gathering and accidentally offending every Time Lord in the room because you accidentally used a definite article derived from the memeovored Old High Tersuran colony dialect, now considered low-brow by association with modern Tersuran, when you intended to use a nearly identical form of the word originating from the Founding Conflict, a triumphant post-Rassilonian intervention, distinguished by a near-imperceptible glottal stop.

It's likely that some of these Gallifreyan sub-languages/dialects may still be spoken with increased frequency under certain conditions, such as in one's own House or when visiting other city complexes. We know, for example, that Arcadia seems to be associated with a "Northern English" accent (which Nine picked up subconsciously post-regeneration, with the Fall of Arcadia being one of the last things the War Doctor remembered before DOTD's multi-Doctor event - hence "lots of planets have a north") when translated, which may indicate some dialect differences in the original language. I suspect there is a societal expectation for Gallifreyans to code-switch depending on the situation, with Citadel business generally expecting the Gallifreyan equivalent of RP, though it's relatively common for Time Lords less concerned with respectability and politicking to not comply.

One nice benefit of all this complexity, and the reason I made this post, is that there's a good argument to be made that every fan attempt to construct a Gallifreyan language can be 'canon', contradictions and all.

Greencook Gallifreyan? A formal evolution of Pythian prophecy scripture into the post-Intuitive Revelation era (based on its similarities with the Visionary's scrawling in The End of Time).

Sherman Gallifreyan? A modern katakana-like phonetic alphabet for the rapid-onslaught of new loan words following President Romana's open academy policies. Recently adopted by the Fifteenth Doctor for writing human proverbs.

Teegarden Gallifreyan? An archaic but recognisable near-Capitolian dialect from the Prydonian mountains, once spoken by Oldblood houses like Lungbarrow and Blyledge.

Or, in a nutshell, the state of Gallifreyan conlangs (and maybe in-universe Gallifreyan dialects):

I guess the dream project would be to accept the complexity and create some sort of grand modular "meta-Gallifreyan" conlang, merging as many fan interpretations as possible with their own distinctions and overlaps, that can continue to be updated as new ideas come up and new stories are released...

[revelboo]

OOO I FOUND IT! I know I learned about it in history class, it was the Amago clan of ninjas 🥷 that had that saying “Those who desire only technique will never understand it's everything beyond that”. And here’s two quotes by Sensei Toshitsugu Takamatsu also known as ‘The Last Shinobi’: “How difficult is life when one is not surprised by anything and laughing, everyday.” And “Knowing that disease and disaster are natural parts of life is the key to overcoming adversity with a calm and happy spirit.”

It was one of Sensei Takamatsu’s lessons about keeping spiritual peace and balance while not letting internal darkness consume one’s life. (Hope you don’t mind me doing themed quotes, I find traditional ninjas and samurai, especially their lessons and proverbs, fascinating😅).

The Samurai Code Pt 2

IDW Drift x Reader

• You’re real, warm against his servos as he makes his way through the halls toward the medbay. He’s also painfully aware of how badly you’re shaking, the way you’re curling into yourself. “Can you understand me?” He asks, parting his servos enough he can see your eyes almost squinted shut, face drawn like you’re in pain even though he’s sure he’s not holding you tightly. Feeling of one of your tiny hands grabbing onto his servo, clinging to him.

• That prickling, fiery feeling is a tide washing over you in waves, stealing your breath when it crashes over you and leaving you trembling in agony when it washes out. “Make it stop,” you manage, pressing your face against that giant hand as the sensation tears you apart again, shredding you into nothing but suffocating pain. “Please.”

• “You’ll be okay,” he promises, lying to you, because he has no idea what’s happening. Spark twisting at the agony in your words, there’s nothing he can do but run a servo against your spine in what he hopes is a comforting touch as he enters the medbay. Ratchet looks up from where he’s sterilizing tools when he enters. “I can’t fix this,” he whispers, holding out his caged hands, because he can feel the way your heart beat shifts into something frantic and wild with every time you clench into a tighter ball. Those little, pained noises you’re making going right through him.

• “Where’d that one come from?” Ratchet groans, reaching to accept your little form and he’s almost reluctant to give you up as crazy as it is, you’re just clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you together. Hovering as Ratchet lifts you from his hands and reaches for a scanner to pass over you as the shaking gets worse. Eyes opening and finding him, little hand trembling and reaching out for him.

• There’s two of them now. You’re dimly aware of the first one explaining how you’d just appeared, but everything is so fragmented, pain breaking you apart piece by piece. And then there’s panic choking you, until you’re reaching for the first one. The one with that soft, soothing voice and gentle hands. Wanting to ask him to not leave you here, please, don’t leave you alone, but unable to focus enough to say any of it. But then he’s reaching for you as the other one frowns, extending a huge servo to you and in your fear, you latch onto him, the only thing even slightly familiar amid the pain.

• You curl yourself around his servo, pressing your face against him. Needing him and he stills as the shaking eases and you slump into an exhausted sleep. “Best guess it has to do with however they got here,” Ratchet says as he studies his scanner. “Rodimus already alerted me that he found another one, so you’ll have to look after that one.”

• “You can fix this,” he says, spark twisting uneasily as he carefully accepts you back from Ratchet, aware of how fragile you feel in his servos. “Ratchet?” That look the medic levels at him is answer enough, but it’s not the one he wants as his attention dips to you.

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