Maximian essays

Maximian essays The overall impression I got of Maximian after reading Lactantiuss text On the Manner in which the Persecutors died, is that Maximian was a vulgar, menacing beast with a savage temper. Lactantius mentions Maximian as possessing an evil spirit and a bold attitude for doing bad deeds. The passage that helped shape my overall impression of Maximian as an evil Caesar, which I believe to be most reliable, was the passage from chapter eight. Lactantius mentions in this chapter things like Whenever he stood in need of more, the richest senators were presently charged, by suborned evidences, as guilty of aspiring to the empire; so that the chief luminaries of the senate were daily extinguished. And thus the treasury, delighting in blood, overflowed with ill-gotten wealth. After reading this passage it was very clear to me that Maximian was a very greedy emperor who would go to any lengths to get what he wanted. Another passage which states Maximians evil doings is also from chapter eight. I also find this passage to be reliable. Lactantius mentions here Add to all this the incontinency of that pestilent wretch, not only in debauching males, which is hateful and abominable, but also in the violation of the daughters of the principal men of the state; for wherever he journeyed, virgins were suddenly torn from the presence of their parents. This passage helped to shape my opinion on his savageness. In a passage from chapter thirty Lactantius gives more evidence of Maximians character which helps shape my initial impression of an emperor who is willing to go to any lengths to get what he wants. I believe this passage is very reliable because it highlights everything that I have already learned about Maximian. In this passage Lactantius brings to light that after Maximian was insulted by his son-in-law Constantine, he grew impatient and formed a plot to kill him by asking his ...

Using zeitgeist Coherently

Using zeitgeist Coherently Using zeitgeist Coherently Using zeitgeist Coherently By Maeve Maddox Zeitgeist is one of those lovely German borrowings that packs into a single word a thought that would require several in English. Zeitgeist: [tsÄ «tgÄ «st, zÄ «tgÄ «st] n. The spirit or genius which marks the thought or feeling of a period or age. NOTE: In German, all nouns are capitalized. The OED capitalizes Zeitgeist; Merriam-Webster does not. German Zeit means time and Geist is cognate with our word ghost, which doesnt only mean the spirit of a person who has died, but can also mean an informing spirit, as in the term the Holy Ghost. Coined by Matthew Arnold in the 19th century to put a name on the spirit of social change and uncertainty that characterized the Victorian Age, zeitgeist has crept into the popular vocabulary where it is flung about without much thought as to what it means. A special interest group and Google have co-opted the word to special uses. Zeitgeist is the name attached to a movement launched by a group of social reformers who wish to reallocate world resources under a global government. Google has a statistics function called Zeitgeist that aggregates how often particular topics are searched over time. In the web context, a zeitgeist is an idea or image that is iconic of a particular moment. Some writers use it as a mere synonym for trend, or fad. Some plant it in the (usually) redundant phrase zeitgeist of the moment. Others, perhaps wishing to create a phrase on the model of Oprahs aha moment, talk about a zeitgeist moment. Here are some examples of the questionable use of zeitgeist: If it’s true that a taste for simple rustic dishes is emerging as the culinary zeitgeist of the moment, Trattoria San Pietro is likely to become even more popular than it already is. The Zeitgeist is getting all sticky. (Headline for an article about a trend to use use bees in the production of artwork.) Favorite Zeitgeist Moments (forum thread in which a zeitgeist moment is defined as Just little moments in any song that really grab your attention, even if you dont like the rest of the song its in.) The scoreboard flashed 715, fireworks erupted, the fans celebrated. Braves radio announcer Milo Hamilton famously captured the zeitgeist of the moment†¦ (Hank Aaron hitting his 715th home run)†¨ The only time it might make sense to talk about the zeitgeist of the moment would be in comparing the present age to a previous one, as Stephen Jay Gould does in The Structure of Evolutionary Theory: By contrast, the common themes behind the reformulations defended in this book all follow froma set of integrated approaches that strongly contribute to the Zeitgeist of our moment. Gould is clearly thinking of two Zeitgeists, Darwins and ours: Whatever the contribution of a Victorian Zeitgeist to Darwins thinking, or of a contemporary Zeitgeist to our revisions, the differences are testable Some popular writers do use zeitgeist in the sense of views associated with a particular period of time. Heres a reviewer of romance novels: I’m not sure why there’s this unwillingness to go along with the zeitgeist of the time in which the book was written, but instead to apply today’s standards of fashion or technology or pop culture as markers of timelessness. Stanislav Grof, writing about the biomechanical set designs of H. R. Giger, observes that the zeitgeist of the twentieth century is characterized by staggering technological progress that enslaved modern humanity in an internecine symbiosis with the world of machines. For Matthew Arnold, the 19th century author to whom we owe the term, the zeitgeist is much more than the prevailing world view at a given time in history. Its a force that influences events. A dehumanizing zeitgeist is something to be resisted. The OED gives this illustration of Arnolds first use of the word: I..took up Obermann, and refuged myself with him..against your Zeit Geist. Obermann was a book by French author Etienne Pivert de Senancour (1770-1846). Senancour disliked the trappings of civilization and sought tranquility in nature. Obermann is full of descriptions of Nature and praise of solitude. The quotation in the OED reference is from a letter to Arnolds friend Arthur Clough, who had written a poem that Arnold felt reflected the Victorian zeitgeist. In reading Obermann, Arnold was seeking refuge from a zeitgeist from which he felt alienated. To talk about a sports zeitgeist or a culinary zeitgeist, or a fashion zeitgeist when all one means is trend, is to waste a high-powered word. Want to improve your English in five minutes a day? Get a subscription and start receiving our writing tips and exercises daily! Keep learning! Browse the Misused Words category, check our popular posts, or choose a related post below:Definitely use "the" or "a"Used To vs. Use To15 Names and Descriptions of Effects

Powerlessness in Amongst Nurses Research Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1250 words

Powerlessness in Amongst Nurses - Research Paper Example Managers have a tendency to overlook the internal conflicts that exist amongst the staff. Nurses experience intense conflicts amongst each other, and they require an arbitrative party to resolve the rivalry (Manojlovich, 2007). When the conflicts are highly persistent, the nurses develop a negative attitude towards the workplace. They feel that situations will remain conflicting. Consequently, the nurses do not anticipate changes and harmony within the workplace. The negative attitude amounts to a feeling of powerlessness in the workplace. Powerless staff will relieve their negative feelings amongst each other (Carpenito-Moyet, 2007). This is according to the oppression theory. Evidently, conflict and powerlessness have a direct affiliation in the workplace. Lateral violence is also a key attribution to powerlessness within the unit. This vice amounts to bullying. Most of the minority nurses experience much adversity from majors within the unit. In this case, the majors oppress colle agues with demeaning tasks (Russell, 2012). Consequently, the patient care is significantly deprived due to the impaired relationships that exist within the staff. Powerful groups extremely humiliate and exploit the powerless groups. Nurses invest in lateral violence in the quest for power. Consequently, they render their colleagues powerless within the workplace. ... Nursing proficiency is a source of power within the unit. Expertise has a definite positive impact to the nurses’ self-esteem. With the advancement of expertise, nurses attain a sense of authority (Manojlovich, 2007). Expertise and proficiency are attainable resources within the confines of the unit. Nurses encounter diverse challenges and experiences that enhance nurse expertise. Attainment of knowledge and skills within the unit accredits the nurse with professional influence to other workmates. In this case, the nurse with expertise will mentor and train newly recruited staff. They are in a capacity to provide a mentorship affiliation with the incoming workforce (Porter-O'Grady, 2009). Consequently, the experienced nurses gain power to induce skills to the recruited nurses. Expertise power amounts to healing supremacy. It transforms the lives of the patients significantly towards healing and recovery. Therefore, expertise elevates the power to care for the patients. Ethics and expertise are evident sources of power within the unit. Question 1c Nancy has an obligation to encourage the nurses towards empowerment. She also has an obligation to resolve the unwanted behaviors within the unit. Nancy ought to spell the impacts of negative relationships. This would involve specific and relevant examples within the nursing unit (Carpenito-Moyet, 2007). Therefore, Nancy should illustrate the ramifications of abusive relationships amongst the nurses. For example, Nancy would outline the impacts of the negative relationships to the patients. She would achieve this by showing the high mortality rate and deprived care towards the patients. Through this illustration, the nurses would be encouraged towards healthy

Mot Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Mot - Essay Example In order to help unmotivated students, a process called attribution retraining is employed that involves modeling, socialization and practice exercises among others. Moreover, other potentially helpful practices can be incorporated such as portraying effort as investment rather than risk, portraying skill development as incremental and domain specific and always focus of mastery. During early childhood development, children express their concern through curiosity and explore new things. However, as children grow, their psychosocial environment influences their learning behavior and learning frequency. Many children though physically present in the classroom remain absent mentally. They do not want to invest their mind and energy towards learning things. It is therefore, important for educators to first understand students’ attitudes and beliefs towards learning and then help minimize students’ lack of concern. Understanding student motivation is very important. In simple terms, it can be defined as the students’ desire to participate in a specific task. However, it is also directly associated with students’ academic achievement. Students can get motivated in two ways: intrinsically and extrinsically. In the former case, motivation comes from rewards inherent to a task. However, extrinsically motivated students perform task to avoid punishment such as grades, teacher approval, etc. However, the phrase, motivation to learn is mainly associated with academic achievement. It does not matter whether the task is intrinsically or extrinsically motivated or not. Well, there are various factors that influence student motivation including modeling, communication, instruction, socialization, etc. In addition, home environment also shapes the students’ attitudes and beliefs towards learning. Parental care, encouragement and explaining answers to numerous

Health and Behavioral Consequences of Binge Drinking in College Essay Example for Free

Health and Behavioral Consequences of Binge Drinking in College Essay Objective — To examine the extent of binge drinking by college students and the ensuing health and behavioral problems that binge drinkers create for themselves and others on their campus. Design — Self-administered survey mailed to a national representative sample of US 4-year college students. Setting — One hundred forty US 4-year colleges in 1993. Participants — A total of 17,592 college students. Main Outcome Measures — Self-reports of drinking behaviour, alcohol-related health problems, and other problems. Results — Almost half (44%) of college students responding to the survey were binge drinkers, including almost one fifth (19%) of the studenst who were frequent binge drinkers. Frequent binge drinkers are more likely to experience seious health and other consequences of their drinking behaviour than other students. Almost half (47%) of the frequent binge drinkers experienced five or more different drinking related problems, including injuries and engaging in unplanned sex, since the beginning of the school year. Most binge drinkers do not consider themselves to be problem drinkers and have not sought treatment for an alcohol problem. Binge drinkers create problems for classmates who are not binge drinkers. Students who are not binge drinkers at schools with higher binge rates were more liekly than students at schools with lower binge rates to experience problems such as being pushed, hit, or assualted or experiencing an unwanted sexual advance. Conclusions — Binge drinking is widespread on college campuses. Programs aimed at reducing this problem should focus on frequent binge drinkers, refer them to treatment or educational programs, and emphasize the harm they cause for students who are not binge drinkers

The Spread of Soviet-Backed Communism Across Eastern Europe after 1945

The Spread of Soviet-Backed Communism Across Eastern Europe after 1945 In seeking to provide an answer to the question, â€Å"Was the spread of Soviet-backed communism inevitable across Eastern Europe after 1945?,† I would like to point to the words of a contemporary specialist. At the end of World War II, R. R. Betts, the Masaryk Professor of Central European History at London University, asserted that much of the â€Å"revolution in central and eastern Europe† is â€Å"native and due to the efforts of the peoples and their own leaders . . . [making it] â€Å"clear that even if the Soviet Union had not been so near and so powerful, revolutionary changes would have come at the end of so destructive and subversive a war as that which ended in 1945† (Betts 212, in Mazower, 255). Though Betts points simply to the war and native efforts as the essential impetus for radical solutions where many points can be made implicating pre-war issues and outside intervention (or lack thereof) in the same causal fashion, the thrust of his argument is what I would like to echo in my paper. The radical situation following World War II in Eastern Europe was untenable and called almost uniformly for a radical solution. However, that the solution was necessarily Soviet-backed communism is not fully supported by the facts. A radical solution? Yes. Authoritarianism? Quite likely. Soviet-backed communism? Very probable, but by no means inevitable. While there is much evidence and scholarship to support the deterministic viewpoint implied by the principal query, it seems a naà ¯ve view of history to suggest that what happened absolutely could not have happened any other way. To respond in kind to the simplistic discourse of ‘in... ...ore or less might not have found a marginally different path at some point along the way. An argument of inevitability is not sufficient to understand the subtleties of history. Works Cited: Betts, R. R. ed. Central and South East Europe, 1945-1948. London, 1949. Lewis, Paul. Central Europe Since 1945. London: Longman, 1994. Mazower, Mark. Dark Continent: Europe’s 20th Century. London: Penguin, 1999. Roberts, Geoffrey. â€Å"Moscow and the Marshall Plan: Politics, Ideology and the Onset of the Cold War, 1947† Europe-Asia Studies 46:8, Soviet and East European History (1994), 1371-1386. Rothschild, Joseph and Nancy M. Wingfield. Return to Diversity: A Political History of East Central Europe since World War II. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000. Swain, Geoffrey and Nigel Swain. Eastern Europe Since 1945. 2nd ed. London: Macmillan, 1998.

A Game of Thrones Chapter Sixty-eight

Daenerys Wings shadowed her fever dreams. â€Å"You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?† She was walking down a long hall beneath high stone arches. She could not look behind her, must not look behind her. There was a door ahead of her, tiny with distance, but even from afar, she saw that it was painted red. She walked faster, and her bare feet left bloody footprints on the stone. â€Å"You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?† She saw sunlight on the Dothraki sea, the living plain, rich with the smells of earth and death. Wind stirred the grasses, and they rippled like water. Drogo held her in strong arms, and his hand stroked her sex and opened her and woke that sweet wetness that was his alone, and the stars smiled down on them, stars in a daylight sky. â€Å"Home,† she whispered as he entered her and filled her with his seed, but suddenly the stars were gone, and across the blue sky swept the great wings, and the world took flame. † . . . don't want to wake the dragon, do you?† Ser Jorah's face was drawn and sorrowful. â€Å"Rhaegar was the last dragon,† he told her. He warmed translucent hands over a glowing brazier where stone eggs smouldered red as coals. One moment he was there and the next he was fading, his flesh colorless, less substantial than the wind. â€Å"The last dragon,† he whispered, thin as a wisp, and was gone. She felt the dark behind her, and the red door seemed farther away than ever. † . . . don't want to wake the dragon, do you?† Viserys stood before her, screaming. â€Å"The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned.† The molten gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. â€Å"I am the dragon and I will be crowned!† he shrieked, and his fingers snapped like snakes, biting at her nipples, pinching, twisting, even as his eyes burst and ran like jelly down seared and blackened cheeks. † . . . don't want to wake the dragon . . . â€Å" The red door was so far ahead of her, and she could feel the icy breath behind, sweeping up on her. If it caught her she would die a death that was more than death, howling forever alone in the darkness. She began to run. † . . . don't want to wake the dragon . . . â€Å" She could feel the heat inside her, a terrible burning in her womb. Her son was tall and proud, with Drogo's copper skin and her own silver-gold hair, violet eyes shaped like almonds. And he smiled for her and began to lift his hand toward hers, but when he opened his mouth the fire poured out. She saw his heart burning through his chest, and in an instant he was gone, consumed like a moth by a candle, turned to ash. She wept for her child, the promise of a sweet mouth on her breast, but her tears turned to steam as they touched her skin. † . . . want to wake the dragon . . . â€Å" Ghosts lined the hallway, dressed in the faded raiment of kings. In their hands were swords of pale fire. They had hair of silver and hair of gold and hair of platinum white, and their eyes were opal and amethyst, tourmaline and jade. â€Å"Faster,† they cried, â€Å"faster, faster.† She raced, her feet melting the stone wherever they touched. â€Å"Faster!† the ghosts cried as one, and she screamed and threw herself forward. A great knife of pain ripped down her back, and she felt her skin tear open and smelled the stench of burning blood and saw the shadow of wings. And Daenerys Targaryen flew. † . . . wake the dragon . . . â€Å" The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door. † . . . the dragon . . . â€Å" And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. â€Å"The last dragon,† Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. â€Å"The last, the last.† Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own. After that, for a long time, there was only the pain, the fire within her, and the whisperings of stars. She woke to the taste of ashes. â€Å"No,† she moaned, â€Å"no, please.† â€Å"Khaleesi?† Jhiqui hovered over her, a frightened doe. The tent was drenched in shadow, still and close. Flakes of ash drifted upward from a brazier, and Dany followed them with her eyes through the smoke hole above. Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream. â€Å"Help me,† she whispered, struggling to rise. â€Å"Bring me . . . † Her voice was raw as a wound, and she could not think what she wanted. Why did she hurt so much? It was as if her body had been torn to pieces and remade from the scraps. â€Å"I want . . . â€Å" â€Å"Yes, Khaleesi.† Quick as that Jhiqui was gone, bolting from the tent, shouting. Dany needed . . . something . . . someone . . . what? It was important, she knew. It was the only thing in the world that mattered. She rolled onto her side and got an elbow under her, fighting the blanket tangled about her legs. It was so hard to move. The world swam dizzily. I have to . . . They found her on the carpet, crawling toward her dragon eggs. Ser Jorah Mormont lifted her in his arms and carried her back to her sleeping silks, while she struggled feebly against him. Over his shoulder she saw her three handmaids, Jhogo with his little wisp of mustache, and the flat broad face of Mirri Maz Duur. â€Å"I must,† she tried to tell them, â€Å"I have to . . . â€Å" † . . . sleep, Princess,† Ser Jorah said. â€Å"No,† Dany said. â€Å"Please. Please.† â€Å"Yes.† He covered her with silk, though she was burning. â€Å"Sleep and grow strong again, Khaleesi. Come back to us.† And then Mirri Maz Duur was there, the maegi, tipping a cup against her lips. She tasted sour milk, and something else, something thick and bitter. Warm liquid ran down her chin. Somehow she swallowed. The tent grew dimmer, and sleep took her again. This time she did not dream. She floated, serene and at peace, on a black sea that knew no shore. After a time—a night, a day, a year, she could not say—she woke again. The tent was dark, its silken walls flapping like wings when the wind gusted outside. This time Dany did not attempt to rise. â€Å"Irri,† she called, â€Å"Jhiqui. Doreah.† They were there at once. â€Å"My throat is dry,† she said, â€Å"so dry,† and they brought her water. It was warm and flat, yet Dany drank it eagerly, and sent Jhiqui for more. Irri dampened a soft cloth and stroked her brow. â€Å"I have been sick,† Dany said. The Dothraki girl nodded. â€Å"How long?† The cloth was soothing, but Irri seemed so sad, it frightened her. â€Å"Long,† she whispered. When Jhiqui returned with more water, Mirri Maz Duur came with her, eyes heavy from sleep. â€Å"Drink,† she said, lifting Dany's head to the cup once more, but this time it was only wine. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and lay back, listening to the soft sound of her own breathing . She could feel the heaviness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up once more. â€Å"Bring me . . . † she murmured, her voice slurred and drowsy. â€Å"Bring . . . I want to hold . . . â€Å" â€Å"Yes?† the maegi asked. â€Å"What is it you wish, Khaleesi?† â€Å"Bring me . . . egg . . . dragon's egg . . . please . . . † Her lashes turned to lead, and she was too weary to hold them up. When she woke the third time, a shaft of golden sunlight was pouring through the smoke hole of the tent, and her arms were wrapped around a dragon's egg. It was the pale one, its scales the color of butter cream, veined with whorls of gold and bronze, and Dany could feel the heat of it. Beneath her bedsilks, a fine sheen of perspiration covered her bare skin. Dragondew, she thought. Her fingers trailed lightly across the surface of the shell, tracing the wisps of gold, and deep in the stone she felt something twist and stretch in response. It did not frighten her. All her fear was gone, burned away. Dany touched her brow. Under the film of sweat, her skin was cool to the touch, her fever gone. She made herself sit. There was a moment of dizziness, and the deep ache between her thighs. Yet she felt strong. Her maids came running at the sound of her voice. â€Å"Water,† she told them, â€Å"a flagon of water, cold as you can find it. And fruit, I think. Dates.† â€Å"As you say, Khaleesi.† â€Å"I want Ser Jorah,† she said, standing. Jhiqui brought a sandsilk robe and draped it over her shoulders. â€Å"And a warm bath, and Mirri Maz Duur, and . . . † Memory came back to her all at once, and she faltered. â€Å"Khal Drogo,† she forced herself to say, watching their faces with dread. â€Å"Is he&mdash?† â€Å"The khal lives,† Irri answered quietly . . . yet Dany saw a darkness in her eyes when she said the words, and no sooner had she spoken than she rushed away to fetch water. She turned to Doreah. â€Å"Tell me.† â€Å"I . . . I shall bring Ser Jorah,† the Lysene girl said, bowing her head and fleeing the tent. Jhiqui would have run as well, but Dany caught her by the wrist and held her captive. â€Å"What is it? I must know. Drogo . . . and my child.† Why had she not remembered the child until now? â€Å"My son . . . Rhaego . . . where is he? I want him.† Her handmaid lowered her eyes. â€Å"The boy . . . he did not live, Khaleesi.† Her voice was a frightened whisper. Dany released her wrist. My son is dead, she thought as Jhiqui left the tent. She had known somehow. She had known since she woke the first time to Jhiqui's tears. No, she had known before she woke. Her dream came back to her, sudden and vivid, and she remembered the tall man with the copper skin and long silver-gold braid, bursting into flame. She should weep, she knew, yet her eyes were dry as ash. She had wept in her dream, and the tears had turned to steam on her cheeks. All the grief has been burned out of me, she told herself. She felt sad, and yet . . . she could feel Rhaego receding from her, as if he had never been. Ser Jorah and Mirri Maz Duur entered a few moments later, and found Dany standing over the other dragon's eggs, the two still in their chest. It seemed to her that they felt as hot as the one she had slept with, which was passing strange. â€Å"Ser Jorah, come here,† she said. She took his hand and placed it on the black egg with the scarlet swirls. â€Å"What do you feel?† â€Å"Shell, hard as rock.† The knight was wary. â€Å"Scales.† â€Å"Heat?† â€Å"No. Cold stone.† He took his hand away. â€Å"Princess, are you well? Should you be up, weak as you are?† â€Å"Weak? I am strong, Jorah.† To please him, she reclined on a pile of cushions. â€Å"Tell me how my child died.† â€Å"He never lived, my princess. The women say . . . † He faltered, and Dany saw how the flesh hung loose on him, and the way he limped when he moved. â€Å"Tell me. Tell me what the women say.† He turned his face away. His eyes were haunted. â€Å"They say the child was . . . â€Å" She waited, but Ser Jorah could not say it. His face grew dark with shame. He looked half a corpse himself. â€Å"Monstrous,† Mirri Maz Duur finished for him. The knight was a powerful man, yet Dany understood in that moment that the maegi was stronger, and crueler, and infinitely more dangerous. â€Å"Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat. When I touched him, the flesh sloughed off the bone, and inside he was full of graveworms and the stink of corruption. He had been dead for years.† Darkness, Dany thought. The terrible darkness sweeping up behind to devour her. If she looked back she was lost. â€Å"My son was alive and strong when Ser Jorah carried me into this tent,† she said. â€Å"I could feel him kicking, fighting to be born.† â€Å"That may be as it may be,† answered Mirri Maz Duur, â€Å"yet the creature that came forth from your womb was as I said. Death was in that tent, Khaleesi.† â€Å"Only shadows,† Ser Jorah husked, but Dany could hear the doubt in his voice. â€Å"I saw, maegi. I saw you, alone, dancing with the shadows. â€Å" â€Å"The grave casts long shadows, Iron Lord,† Mirri said. â€Å"Long and dark, and in the end no light can hold them back.† Ser Jorah had killed her son, Dany knew. He had done what he did for love and loyalty, yet he had carried her into a place no living man should go and fed her baby to the darkness. He knew it too; the grey face, the hollow eyes, the limp. â€Å"The shadows have touched you too, Ser Jorah,† she told him. The knight made no reply. Dany turned to the godswife. â€Å"You warned me that only death could pay for life. I thought you meant the horse.† â€Å"No,† Mirri Maz Duur said. â€Å"That was a lie you told yourself. You knew the price.† Had she? Had she? If I look back I am lost. â€Å"The price was paid,† Dany said. â€Å"The horse, my child, Quaro and Qotho, Haggo and Cohollo. The price was paid and paid and paid.† She rose from her cushions. â€Å"Where is Khal Drogo? Show him to me, godswife, maegi, bloodmage, whatever you are. Show me Khal Drogo. Show me what I bought with my son's life.† â€Å"As you command, Khaleesi,† the old woman said. â€Å"Come, I will take you to him.† Dany was weaker than she knew. Ser Jorah slipped an arm around her and helped her stand. â€Å"Time enough for this later, my princess,† he said quietly. â€Å"I would see him now, Ser Jorah.† After the dimness of the tent, the world outside was blinding bright. The sun burned like molten gold, and the land was seared and empty. Her handmaids waited with fruit and wine and water, and Jhogo moved close to help Ser Jorah support her. Aggo and Rakharo stood behind. The glare of sun on sand made it hard to see more, until Dany raised her hand to shade her eyes. She saw the ashes of a fire, a few score horses milling listlessly and searching for a bite of grass, a scattering of tents and bedrolls. A small crowd of children had gathered to watch her, and beyond she glimpsed women going about their work, and withered old men staring at the flat blue sky with tired eyes, swatting feebly at bloodflies. A count might show a hundred people, no more. Where the other forty thousand had made their camp, only the wind and dust lived now. â€Å"Drogo's khalasar is gone,† she said. â€Å"A khal who cannot ride is no khal,† said Jhogo. â€Å"The Dothraki follow only the strong,† Ser Jorah said. â€Å"I am sorry, my princess. There was no way to hold them. Ko Pono left first, naming himself Khal Pono, and many followed him. Jhaqo was not long to do the same. The rest slipped away night by night, in large bands and small. There are a dozen new khalasars on the Dothraki sea, where once there was only Drogo's.† â€Å"The old remain,† said Aggo. â€Å"The frightened, the weak, and the sick. And we who swore. We remain.† â€Å"They took Khal Drogo's herds, Khaleesi,† Rakharo said. â€Å"We were too few to stop them. It is the right of the strong to take from the weak. They took many slaves as well, the khal's and yours, yet they left some few.† â€Å"Eroeh?† asked Dany, remembering the frightened child she had saved outside the city of the Lamb Men. â€Å"Mago seized her, who is Khal Jhaqo's bloodrider now,† said Jhogo. â€Å"He mounted her high and low and gave her to his khal, and Jhaqo gave her to his other bloodriders. They were six. When they were done with her, they cut her throat.† â€Å"It was her fate, Khaleesi,† said Aggo. If I look back I am lost. â€Å"It was a cruel fate,† Dany said, â€Å"yet not so cruel as Mago's will be. I promise you that, by the old gods and the new, by the lamb god and the horse god and every god that lives. I swear it by the Mother of Mountains and the Womb of the World. Before I am done with them, Mago and Ko Jhaqo will plead for the mercy they showed Eroeh.† The Dothraki exchanged uncertain glances. â€Å"Khaleesi, † the handmaid Irri explained, as if to a child, â€Å"Jhaqo is a khal now, with twenty thousand riders at his back.† She lifted her head. â€Å"And I am Daenerys Stormhorn, Daenerys of House Targaryen, of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel and old Valyria before them. I am the dragon's daughter, and I swear to you, these men will die screaming. Now bring me to Khal Drogo.† He was lying on the bare red earth, staring up at the sun. A dozen bloodflies had settled on his body, though he did not seem to feel them. Dany brushed them away and knelt beside him. His eyes were wide open but did not see, and she knew at once that he was blind. When she whispered his name, he did not seem to hear. The wound on his breast was as healed as it would ever be, the scar that covered it grey and red and hideous. â€Å"Why is he out here alone, in the sun?† she asked them. â€Å"He seems to like the warmth, Princess,† Ser Jorah said. â€Å"His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips.† Dany kissed her sun-and-stars gently on the brow, and stood to face Mirri Maz Duur. â€Å"Your spells are costly, maegi.† â€Å"He lives,† said Mirri Maz Duur. â€Å"You asked for life. You paid for life.† â€Å"This is not life, for one who was as Drogo was. His life was laughter, and meat roasting over a firepit, and a horse between his legs. His life was an arakh in his hand and his bells ringing in his hair as he rode to meet an enemy. His life was his bloodriders, and me, and the son I was to give him.† Mirri Maz Duur made no reply. â€Å"When will he be as he was?† Dany demanded. â€Å"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,† said Mirri Maz Duur. â€Å"When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When your womb quickens again, and you bear a living child. Then he will return, and not before.† Dany gestured at Ser Jorah and the others. â€Å"Leave us. I would speak with this maegi alone.† Mormont and the Dothraki withdrew. â€Å"You knew,† Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. â€Å"You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it.† â€Å"It was wrong of them to burn my temple,† the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. â€Å"That angered the Great Shepherd.† â€Å"This was no god's work,† Dany said coldly. If I look back I am lost. â€Å"You cheated me. You murdered my child within me.† â€Å"The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust.† â€Å"I spoke for you,† she said, anguished. â€Å"I saved you.† â€Å"Saved me?† The Lhazareen woman spat. â€Å"Three riders had taken me, not as a man takes a woman but from behind, as a dog takes a bitch. The fourth was in me when you rode past. How then did you save me? I saw my god's house burn, where I had healed good men beyond counting. My home they burned as well, and in the street I saw piles of heads. I saw the head of a baker who made my bread. I saw the head of a boy I had saved from deadeye fever, only three moons past. I heard children crying as the riders drove them off with their whips. Tell me again what you saved.† â€Å"Your life.† Mirri Maz Duur laughed cruelly. â€Å"Look to your khal and see what life is worth, when all the rest is gone.† Dany called out for the men of her khas and bid them take Mirri Maz Duur and bind her hand and foot, but the maegi smiled at her as they carried her off, as if they shared a secret. A word, and Dany could have her head off . . . yet then what would she have? A head? If life was worthless, what was death? They led Khal Drogo back to her tent, and Dany commanded them to fill a tub, and this time there was no blood in the water. She bathed him herself, washing the dirt and the dust from his arms and chest, cleaning his face with a soft cloth, soaping his long black hair and combing the knots and tangles from it till it shone again as she remembered. It was well past dark before she was done, and Dany was exhausted. She stopped for drink and food, but it was all she could do to nibble at a fig and keep down a mouthful of water. Sleep would have been a release, but she had slept enough . . . too long, in truth. She owed this night to Drogo, for all the nights that had been, and yet might be. The memory of their first ride was with her when she led him out into the darkness, for the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man's life must be done beneath the open sky. She told herself that there were powers stronger than hatred, and spells older and truer than any the maegi had learned in Asshai. The night was black and moonless, but overhead a million stars burned bright. She took that for an omen. No soft blanket of grass welcomed them here, only the hard dusty ground, bare and strewn with stones. No trees stirred in the wind, and there was no stream to soothe her fears with the gentle music of water. Dany told herself that the stars would be enough. â€Å"Remember, Drogo,† she whispered. â€Å"Remember our first ride together, the day we wed. Remember the night we made Rhaego, with the khalasar all around us and your eyes on my face. Remember how cool and clean the water was in the Womb of the World. Remember, my sun-and-stars. Remember, and come back to me.† The birth had left her too raw and torn to take him inside of her, as she would have wanted, but Doreah had taught her other ways. Dany used her hands, her mouth, her breasts. She raked him with her nails and covered him with kisses and whispered and prayed and told him stories, and by the end she had bathed him with her tears. Yet Drogo did not feel, or speak, or rise. And when the bleak dawn broke over an empty horizon, Dany knew that he was truly lost to her. â€Å"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east,† she said sadly. â€Å"When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you will return, my sun-and-stars, and not before.† Never, the darkness cried, never never never. Inside the tent Dany found a cushion, soft silk stuffed with feathers. She clutched it to her breasts as she walked back out to Drogo, to her sun-and-stars. If I look back I am lost. It hurt even to walk, and she wanted to sleep, to sleep and not to dream. She knelt, kissed Drogo on the lips, and pressed the cushion down across his face.

Memory of my childhood

I wanted that journey to go on forever. Well, at the beginning anyway. We had left Belgium in the morning, all of us reluctant to arrive at our ‘final destination', but the day progressed. The atmosphere in the car became tense, and the distance on the map didn't seem to change with the passing hours. The inhabitants of the car are completely oblivious to the outside world. My parents were thinking only of their petty arguments and minor discomforts. The landscape changed with the mood, as they began to descend into the routine that they would have taken up every hour or so from now on. The tar on the road sizzled; fantasies distort vision and reflect light into a glazed eye. They only thought of themselves. My little sister, Emma, said â€Å"It's my turn on the Game Boy.† â€Å"No, it's mine.† I said. â€Å"Just give it to Emma. She's youngest.† Mother said. â€Å"Where are we on the map now?† â€Å"I WANT IT NOW!† Emma said. â€Å"I don't know; look for yourself, Mother said, â€Å"Now give Emma the game boy Naz.† â€Å"Can't you all just be quiet? I'm trying to read.† I shouted angrily. â€Å"Don't you speak to me like that young lady† That was the reaction I got from both of my parents as I asked them to keep the noise down. We hadn't moved from this spot for 2 hours. And it was Emma's turn on the Game Boy. And I only wanted to play it to get on Emma's nerves. I could have told them that, but I would have just gotten the same unreasonable reaction, that because I was 10, I didn't have a clue about anything. The noise began to settle as we listened to our repetitive music and the toneless instructions of the navigator. Each of us was thinking about an incident vivid in our own mind, but forgotten by others. We only thought of our own importance, and the mark we left on others. We were self contained and self absorbed. We were heading for Cornwall. For all of us except my dad, it was for the first time in three years. It was understandable that they spent most of the long hours lecturing us on manners while we were caged in the car- we had to make a good impression. They were our family though. Should we really have to make an impression on them? Aren't they supposed to know us better than we even know ourselves? Sometimes things aren't what they are assumed to be though. They suspect the feeling of awkwardness that undercurrents their arrival. It will be smothered by joyfulness, present giving and drink. Concern for each other's appearance makes them interfering. Hills roll past, and the hateful sun is shining straight down onto the car holding them like packed vegetables. Slowly the car crawled down the stretch of motorway, which the sun was slowly melting. The car had been a shelter from the heat at the beginning of the journey, but then we could feel the effects of it. The angrier and more frustrated we got the warmer the car grew. As the batteries ran out, everyone's books were finished, and we still didn't look like we had moved all that much further we ignored each other and concentrated on ourselves. I was thirsty, my arms were itchy with sweat, my legs were cramped, and I still didn't see why I was the one that always had to read Emma a story, ever since Emma was 5 years old. â€Å"Why can't she read it herself?† I said furiously. â€Å"Because, I asked you to do it† My mother answered me angrily. â€Å"Then ask her.† â€Å"She cannot read. And now just do it.† â€Å"Fine, Whatever† So I went on to read ‘We're going on a Bear Hunt' with as much feeling as I would read a recipe. Slowly as we got closer and closer to Cornwall we forgot every reason we had for not wanting to get there. A huge proper Sunday roast, which would no doubt be on the table when we arrived, sounded like heaven. It was our cousin Alan's birthday, and the cake would be huge and covered in chocolate. We had had experiences of birthday cakes before in Cornwall. They were always worth the journey. We had a CD on in the car. It was Robbie Williams. We always listened to Robbie Williams and Van Morrison on long car journeys. Everything seems to merge together after a while though, just drowning out the sound of the car and each other. We were separated and isolated from each other as though in separate cages. We expected no communication. We gave none. We could only think ahead. By the time that there was only about an hour to go of this pain staking driving us were all looking forward to Cornwall like it was the ‘Promised Land'. Every accident was forgotten. We only remembered the food and drink we would be given, the early Christmas and late birthday presents. We were just coming up the drive of the house when the door opened and every single relative I remember, some that I didn't remember, and some that I didn't even know came swarming down the drive. Within minutes we were all crowded round a huge dining table, ready to begin. The accidents were forgotten. They had successfully implanted themselves in this household. They would not let it out of their grasp until they left exhausted and overfed, to return to their ordinary routine of work. Believe that we had had a holiday.

Moby Dick essays

Moby Dick essays The novel Moby Dick is the story of how Ishmael the narrator came to set sail on a fateful whaling voyage. He travels to Nantucket, where he visits the docks to find a ship; he discovers the Pequod. As Ishmael and his friend Queequeg make their way to board the ship, they meet a haggard looking, wild-eyed man who calls himself Elijah. He warns them against sailing with the Pequod, and hints that there might be something to fear about their mysterious captain, Ahab. Although Ishmael has not yet met Ahab, he dismisses the Elijahs warning, and the two set sail with the Pequod on Christmas Day. Ishmael is introduced to the rest of the ships crew: the first mate, Starbuck, the second mate, Stubb, and the third mate, Flask. Finally, after several days at sea, the men meet their captain, Ahab: a fierce looking Nantucketer with a white streak in his hair leading to a scar down the side of his face, and with one false leg made of ivory. Ahab paces the deck, and does not talk to the men nearly at all ... until one day he nails a piece of Spanish gold to the main mast of the ship, announcing that whoever first spies a white whale will receive it as a reward. This white whale, called Moby Dick by Ahab, seems to cause him considerable anxiety; he reveals that it was Moby Dick who bit off his leg. The sailors seem excited at their potential reward, and vow to hunt Moby Dick to the death. Ahab, meanwhile, speaks to himself in terms that suggest his maniacal obsession with the Whale. As the Pequod continues on her course, Ahab grows more and more obsessed with finding and killing Moby Dick even holding a kind of black mass in which he uses the blood of his harpooneers to cool the blade of a new, deadly harpoon. In the closing chapters of the novel, Ahab heads the ship into a dangerous storm, allows most of her instruments to break down, and ultimately abandons any p ...

Make Paper Chromatography With Leaves

Make Paper Chromatography With Leaves You can use paper chromatography to see the different pigments that produce the colors in leaves.  Most plants contain several pigment molecules, so experiment with many species of leaves to see the wide range of colors. This is a simple science project that takes about 2 hours. Key Takeaway: Leaf Paper Chromatography Chromatography is a chemical purification method that separates colored substances. In paper chromatography, pigments may be separated based on the different size of the molecules.Everyone knows leaves contain chlorophyll, which is green, but plants actually contain a wide range of other pigment molecules.For paper chromatography, plant cells are broken open to release their pigment molecules. A solution of plant matter and alcohol is placed at the bottom of a piece of paper. Alcohol moves up the paper, taking pigment molecules with it. Its easier for smaller molecules to move through the fibers in paper, so they travel fastest and move the furthest up the paper. Larger molecules are slower and dont travel as far up the paper. What You Need You only need a few simple materials for this project. While you can perform it using only one type of leaf (e.g., chopped spinach), you can experience the greatest range of pigment colors by collecting several types of leaves. LeavesSmall  Jars with LidsRubbing AlcoholCoffee FiltersHot WaterShallow PanKitchen Utensils Instructions Take 2-3 large leaves (or the equivalent with smaller leaves), tear them into tiny pieces, and place them into small jars with lids.Add enough alcohol to just cover the leaves.Loosely cover the jars and set them into a shallow pan containing an inch or so of hot tap water.Let the jars sit in the hot water for at least a half hour. Replace the hot water as it cools and swirl the jars from time to time.The jars are done when the alcohol has picked up color from the leaves. The darker the color, the brighter the chromatogram will be.Cut or tear a long strip of coffee filter paper for each jar.Place one strip of paper into each jar, with one end in the alcohol and the other outside of the jar.As the alcohol evaporates, it will pull the pigment up the paper, separating pigments according to size (largest will move the shortest distance).After 30-90 minutes (or until the desired separation is obtained), remove the strips of paper and allow them to dry.Can you identify which pigments are pr esent? Does the season in which the leaves are picked affect their colors? Tips for Success Try using frozen chopped spinach leaves.Experiment with other types of paper.You can substitute other alcohols for the rubbing alcohol, such as ethyl alcohol or methyl alcohol.If your chromatogram is pale, next time use more leaves and/or smaller pieces to yield more pigment. If you have a blender available, you can use it to finely chop the leaves. How Leaf Paper Chromatography Works Pigment molecules, such as chlorophyll and anthocyanins, are contained within plant leaves. Chlorophyll is found in organelles called chloroplasts. The plant cells need to be torn open to expose their pigment molecules. The macerated leaves are placed in a small amount of alcohol, which acts as a solvent. Hot water helps soften the plant matter, making it easier to extract the pigments into the alcohol. The end of a piece of paper is placed in the solution of alcohol, water, and pigment. The other end stands straight up. Gravity pulls on the molecules, while alcohol travels up the paper via capillary action, pulling pigment molecules upward with it. The choice of paper is important because if the fiber mesh is too dense (like printer paper), few of the pigment molecules will be small enough to navigate the maze of cellulose fibers to travel upward. If the mesh is too open (like a paper towel), then all of the pigment molecules easily travel up the paper and its difficult to separate them. Also, some pigment might be more soluble in water than in alcohol. If a molecule is highly soluble in alcohol, it travels through the paper (the mobile phase). An insoluble molecule might remain in the liquid. The technique is used to test purity of samples, where a pure solution should only produce a single band. It is also used to purify and isolate fractions. After the chromatogram has developed, the different bands may be cut apart and the pigments recovered. Sources Block, Richard J.; Durrum, Emmett L.; Zweig, Gunter (1955). A Manual of Paper Chromatography and Paper Electrophoresis. Elsevier. ISBN 978-1-4832-7680-9.Haslam, Edwin (2007). Vegetable tannins – Lessons of a phytochemical lifetime. Phytochemistry. 68 (22–24): 2713–21. doi:10.1016/j.phytochem.2007.09.009

'Aspects of contact and negligence for business'-subject Assignment

'Aspects of contact and negligence for business'-subject - Assignment Example If any of these elements is missing, the agreement cannot be treated as a valid contract. The first element of a valid contract is an offer, which is an expression of the willingness of a party to enter into a contract and intends to be bound if the offer is accepted. The offer should include terms, which are certain and be communicated to the offeree (Bayern, n.d.). An offer should be distinguished from an invitation to treat. An invitation to treat is a declaration to enter into negotiations and cannot be accepted in the formation of a contract. They form part of preliminary negotiations and cannot be deemed an offer. The court in Harvey v Facey (1839) held that an invitation to treat is an indication by the owner that they are interested in selling an item. An offer remains open until the specified time expires or is accepted. Where there is no time limit, it is deemed to have expired after a reasonable time as passed. Death or insanity of either party terminates an offer. It can also cease to exist if it is expressly or by conduct demonstrate d that it no longer exis ts. If an offer is made to the general public, it can only be terminated by communicating through the same channel the offer was made. An offer can be rejected by the offeror or with a counter offer (Bix, 2012). In Hyde v Wrench (1840), the court held that a counter offer kills the original offer and the initial offer cannot be accepted at a future time. In Smith v Hughes (1871), the court pointed out that in determining whether there is a valid offer, the parties’ intentions are not important but rather how a reasonable person would consider the situation. The second element of a valid contract is acceptance, which is an expression of agreeing to the terms of the offer. An acceptance can only be valid if the party agreeing to it is aware of the existence of an offer. It must also be unconditional, clear and mirror the terms of the offer. Acceptance becomes