#sale

Increasingly prices are set by sellers to raise their prices without a loss of sales sufficient to wipe out the gain. ↗

— William Vickrey

#increasingly #loss #out #prices #raise

Although lynchings have steadily increased in number and barbarity during the last twenty years, there has been no single effort put forth by the many moral and philanthropic forces of the country to put a stop to this wholesale slaughter. ↗

— Ida B. Wells

#barbarity #been #country #during #effort

In fact, for all kinds of offenses - and, for no offenses - from murders to misdemeanors, men and women are put to death without judge or jury; so that, although the political excuse was no longer necessary, the wholesale murder of human beings went on just the same. ↗

— Ida B. Wells

#beings #death #excuse #fact #human

From 1971 onwards, the Memorial Day holiday was officially observed on the last Monday in May and became the unofficial start of the summer, with barbecues, blockbuster movie openings and mattress sales. ↗

— Allen West

#became #blockbuster #day #holiday #last

Where are the Muslim people's sponsors? Where are its kings? Where are its leaders? The Muslim people is calling upon you, Jerusalem is appealing to you, will anyone answer? ↗

— Ahmed Yassin

#anyone #appealing #calling #jerusalem #kings

I never got to call myself a door-to-door salesman, because, regrettably, I only ever went to one door. But one day I just might knock on another door, to be able to proudly say that I was once a door-to-door salesman. ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#funny #humor #pride #salesman #funny

As much as people are griping about the Internet taking sales away from artists, it's been a huge promotional tool for me. ↗

— Al Yankovic

#artists #away #been #huge #internet

Jerusalem! My Love,My Town I wept until my tears were dry I prayed until the candles flickered I knelt until the floor creaked I asked about Mohammed and Christ Oh Jerusalem, the fragrance of prophets The shortest path between earth and sky Oh Jerusalem, the citadel of laws A beautiful child with fingers charred and downcast eyes You are the shady oasis passed by the Prophet Your streets are melancholy Your minarets are mourning You, the young maiden dressed in black Who rings the bells at the Nativity Church, On sunday morning? Who brings toys for the children On Christmas eve? Oh Jerusalem, the city of sorrow A big tear wandering in the eye Who will halt the aggression On you, the pearl of religions? Who will wash your bloody walls? Who will safeguard the Bible? Who will rescue the Quran? Who will save Christ, From those who have killed Christ? Who will save man? Oh Jerusalem my town Oh Jerusalem my love Tomorrow the lemon trees will blossom And the olive trees will rejoice Your eyes will dance The migrant pigeons will return To your sacred roofs And your children will play again And fathers and sons will meet On your rosy hills My town The town of peace and olives ↗

— Nizar Qabbani

#bible #christ #jerusalem #muhammad #olives

I remember first learning about death quite vividly. I'm not sure how old I was, but I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. My grandfather had died, and my mother was trying to explain it to me. 'Sometimes, when someone gets ill, and they're very very old, they don't get better again. They just get iller and iller and then... then their body stops working.' 'I don't understand.' 'What's in them just goes away, and doesn't come back.' 'Grandpa isn't coming back?' 'No,' she said. 'Not ever again.' 'Grandpa said he was going away and not ever coming back after he held Grandma's head in that cotton-dump outside of town and kicked Skeeter seventy-three times.' 'Grandpa was very drunk. That's not the same as being dead. Grandpa's dead, son. He's not there anymore.' And I remember saying, 'Hold everything right fucking THERE. 'You went to all the trouble of conceiving me, and giving birth to me, and raising me and feeding me and clothing me and all-- and, YEAH, whipping me from time to time, and making me live in a house that's freezing fucking cold all the goddamn time-- and you make me cry and things hurt so much and disappointments crush my heart every day and I can't do half the things I want to do and sometimes I just want to scream-- and what I've got to look forward to is my body breaking and something flipping off the switch in my head-- I go through all this-- and then there's death? 'What is the motherfucking deal here? ↗

— Warren Ellis

#death

I had lied to myself from the very beginning, deceived myself into believing that I was being fanciful and overly imaginative. Surely such monstrosities only existed in nightmares? Yet I had lived through a nightmare these past months, and that was no dream at all.        I was still fighting against the awful truth, not wanting to give in, searching my mind for a logical explanation—but there was none. And the most horrible realization of all was that I had known, somewhere deep inside, ever since the day I first set eyes on Vladec Salei.        Plague carrier.        Living death.        Drainer of life.        The phrasing did not matter. No euphemism could strike fear into the hearts of men the way that single word could.        Vampire.         And for me, the uninitiated, that single word meant death. ↗

— Melika Dannese Lux

#blood-drinkers #corcitura #drainer-of-life #eric-bradburry #fear