#terror

And finally, let me just say it is a fact that not every city can dedicate resources to terrorism. ↗

— Vito Fossella

#dedicate #every #fact #finally #just

Old forms of government finally grow so oppressive that they must be thrown off even at the risk of reigns of terror. ↗

— Herbert Spencer

#finally #forms #government #grow #must

Unlike most other children, - especially unlike those of today - who are eager to become men and women as speedily as possible, I had a terror of growing up, which became more and more accentuated as I grew older. ↗

— Pierre Loti

#become #children #eager #especially #grew

If Clinton had only attacked terrorism as much as he attacks George Bush we wouldn't be in this problem. ↗

— Dennis Miller

#attacks #bush #clinton #george #george bush

The true credit for our safety and security goes to our men and women who are serving in places like Iraq and Afghanistan in the global war on terrorism. ↗

— Asa Hutchinson

#credit #global #global war #goes #iraq

While there's been much progress on terrorism, there's still much work to do and it is very important that the countries work together in order to address this threat together. ↗

— Gloria Macapagal Arroyo

#been #countries #important #much #order

Freud was a hero. He descended to the Underworld and met there stark terrors. He carried with him his theory as a Medusa's head which turned these terrors to stone. ↗

— R. D. Laing

#descended #freud #head #hero #him

This war on terrorism is going to continue for an indefinite period of time. ↗

— Tom Ridge

#going #indefinite #period #terrorism #time

Art is an evolutionary act. The shape of art and its role in society is constantly changing. At no point is art static. There are no rules. ↗

— Raymond Salvatore Harmon

#graffiti #street-art #art

I shook with cold and fear, without being able to answer. After a lapse of some moments, I was again called. I made an effort to speak, and then felt the bandage which wrapped me from head to foot. It was my shroud. At last, I managed feebly to articulate, 'Who calls?' 'Tis I' said a voice. 'Who art thou?' 'I! I! I!' was the answer; and the voice grew weaker, as if it was lost in the distance; or as if it was but the icy rustle of the trees. A third time my name sounded on my ears; but now it seemed to run from tree to tree, as if it whistled in each dead branch; so that the entire cemetery repeated it with a dull sound. Then I heard a noise of wings, as if my name, pronounced in the silence, had suddenly awakened a troop of nightbirds. My hands, as if by some mysterious power, sought my face. In silence I undid the shroud which bound me, and tried to see. It seemed as if I had awakened from a long sleep. I was cold. I then recalled the dread fear which oppressed me, and the mournful images by which I was surrounded. The trees had no longer any leaves upon them, and seemed to stretch forth their bare branches like huge spectres! A single ray of moonlight which shone forth, showed me a long row of tombs, forming an horizon around me, and seeming like the steps which might lead to Heaven. All the vague voices of the night, which seemed to preside at my awakening, were full of terror. ("The Dead Man's Story") ↗

— James Hain Friswell

#graveyard #horror #terror #art