seen from South Korea
seen from Türkiye
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Switzerland
seen from China
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from South Korea
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
seen from Japan
seen from South Korea
seen from Türkiye
seen from South Korea
seen from Japan
Confident sheep overcome insecure wolves.
Matshona Dhliwayo
Invest in your dreams, not in your fears.
Matshona Dhliwayo
•
The ancient temple, carved into the heart of a colossal cave, breathed silently hundreds of meters below the ground. As the stone stairs—untouched by the erosion of time—spiraled downward alongside forgotten symbols etched into the walls, the air grew cooler and the echoes deepened with every step. The gallery opening at the end of the stairs was grand enough to defy the limits of the human mind; its soaring ceilings were supported by stalactites and masterfully carved arches.
In one section of the gallery, historical manuscript books stood lined up on stone shelves that had defied the centuries. Yellowed pages, leather bindings, and faded inks whispered of spells written in lost languages, ancient lore, and forbidden teachings. A dim light emanated from crystal lamps and phosphorescent stones embedded in the walls, making the shadows of the texts dance across the surfaces.
In another section, heavy stone tables were lined up. Upon these tables sat potion vials of ever-changing colors, amulets covered in runic marks, and strange tools crafted from metal and bone. Some objects vibrated faintly, while others emitted a weak energy as if they were alive. Here, spells had been tested, research conducted, and the boundaries of reality pushed time and again.
The entire gallery evoked the feeling of a place where knowledge and mystery, wisdom and danger were intertwined; a place where only the brave and the knowledgeable could endure for long.
The novice advisor, taking small but swift steps, hurried down the stairs, trying not to raise his voice too much as he called out to the head advisor's right-hand man "Gour-Namm Ejder, Gour-Namm Ejder..."
"Sir, His Majesty Toor-Uk Ejder is here, upstairs."
No sooner had the rookie advisor finished his words than Gour-Namm Ejder turned around and made eye contact with Toor-Uk Ejder. Toor-Uk Ejder, in his thunderous voice but in a tone that didn't want to disturb him, asked, "Gour-Uk Ejder mentioned a very important development; we need to speak in person?" Meanwhile, he's eyes running on the vast hall, his eyes scanning for the old man. The chief advisor's voice was heard from among the books: "A great progress, a great progress! Everything will be as it was before, We've finally found the solution!" The old man's voice trembled with excitement and joy.
Jean-Antoine Watteau, Fête galante, Conversation
Souphead the Cynic
A very weird change to the story which I do not see as effective, the initial observing of his little cousin's non-gallant behavior is now calling him out. It makes the next panels less sensical. And on this relationship -- What? Is Souphead Archie and Priscilla Betty?
This just might be the first and only appearance of, um, Little Souphead -- Little Jughead's preschool attending young cousin. Though it does not exactly follow the script of "Soupy the Cynic" and its clone (identical, except for that first panel and with one page added so they are no longer helping / hindering only old ladies) "Mind Over Matter", it proceeds with the same ground.
In the last Little Jughead and Littler Souphead they go on to screw with Mr. Weatherbee's hairpiece.
A Game of Thrones, Tyrion II
He took a small revenge in the matter of his riding fur, a tattered bearskin, old and musty-smelling. Stark had offered it to him in an excess of Night’s Watch gallantry, no doubt expecting him to graciously decline. Tyrion had accepted with a smile.
He had brought his warmest clothing with him when they rode out of Winterfell, and soon discovered that it was nowhere near warm enough.
It was cold up here, and growing colder.
The nights were well below freezing now, and when the wind blew it was like a knife cutting right through his warmest woolens.
By now Stark was no doubt regretting his chivalrous impulse. Perhaps he had learned a lesson.
The Lannisters never declined, graciously or otherwise. The Lannisters took what was offered.
Practice good posture and carriage. | Etiquette Tip
