Confusion

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Decameron (1353)

  As for Ferondo, when he recovered his senses and found himself he knew not where, the Bolognese monk came in to him with a horrible noise and laying hold of him, gave him a sound drubbing with a rod he had in his hand. Ferondo, weeping and crying out, did nought but ask, 'Where am I?' To which the monk answered, 'Thou art in purgatory.' 'How?' cried Ferondo. 'Am I then dead?' 'Ay, certes,' replied the other; whereupon Ferondo fell to bemoaning himself and his wife and child, saying the oddest things in the world. Presently the monk brought him somewhat of meat and drink, which Ferondo seeing, 'What!' cried he. 'Do the dead eat?' 'Ay do they,' answered the monk. 'This that I bring thee is what the woman, thy wife that was, sent this morning to the church to let say masses for thy soul, and God the Lord willeth that it be made over to thee.' Quoth Ferondo, 'God grant her a good year! I still cherished her ere I died, insomuch that I held her all night in mine arms and did nought but kiss her, and t' other thing also I did, when I had a mind thereto.' Then, being very sharp-set, he fell to eating and drinking and himseeming the wine was not overgood, 'Lord confound her!' quoth he. 'Why did not she give the priest wine of the cask against the wall?'

• From The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce: A 25-Year Landmark Study (2000)

  1 Moreover, 40 percent of all marriages in the 1990s involve one or both persons who have been married before. 2 So we are looking at new roles for millions of adults and millions of children. For adults, this situation means knowing what it takes to be a successful stepmother or stepfather. For children, it means dealing with the arrival of a stranger who takes up residence in the bosom of the family. Neither job is easy. Both are rife with potential for misunderstanding and misery as well as deep emotional support and unfailing love. The stepfather—child relationship is usually conceived as a duet that involves only the child and the stepparent. But it is composed of at least four voices, sometimes more, each of which has a major role in the harmony or the dissonance that ensues. The four voices are the new husband, the child, the mother, and the biological father. They are the new ensemble that has to learn to play well together. The background sometimes swells to a chamber orchestra what with stepmothers, step-siblings, and half siblings, but for now we’ll talk about the main players. It seems that we are comfortable with the idea that each person has only one biological mother in this world (egg donor technologies aside) and that stepmothers, while loved, do not usurp that special position. But fathers are different. We seem to accept the notion that a child can have two fathers of equal standing—a biological dad and a stepdad who share the same slot in the child’s mind. Some people think that stepfathers can even replace fathers, as if a father’s role is somehow blurrier or perhaps more porous than a mother’s role. But in real life this doesn’t compute. If a child maintains a close relationship with a biological father, there’s no ready role for a stepfather, no traditions to turn to, no scripts. Oddly, the fathers’ movement in this country has diminished the stepfather’s potential role in his stepchild’s life. Who is the stepfather alongside the biological father? A Dutch uncle? A friend? The man who lives with my mom? My parent? Who carries responsibility for the child’s life? Who makes the rules? Assuming that fathers and stepfathers disagree, as sometimes they must, whose values prevail? Who helps with the homework and who talks with the teacher? Does every adult in the family attend parent-teacher conferences? There’s almost no part of a child’s life that is clearly in one domain or the other because there are no rules, legal or otherwise, that lay out a stepfather’s role when the father is still around. If mother and stepfather divorce, or if the mother dies, the stepfather has no formal relationship with the child, not even the right to visit, even though the stepfather may have raised her since she was a baby. So there is ample room for conflict, misunderstanding, and competition. By the same token, there’s ample room for cooperation and creative solutions.

• From Augustine: A New Biography (2005)

  Caesarea in Mauretania (modern Cherchell) is as far from Hippo as any place to which Augustine ever traveled as bishop. He and a few other bishops went that far west in 418 on a difficult piece of business involving the choice of a new bishop.500 Officialdom had disapproved of the local choice, but the populace rioted in favor of their candidate, not least because he was a man who had been abroad to the imperial court himself and could reasonably be expected to be an effective patron. When he arrived there, Augustine found standing in the square the old Donatist bishop Emeritus, one of the spokesmen of the losing side in 411. Emeritus had never made his peace with the new order, but Augustine invited him into church, hoping for a pleasant scene. After the death of the local catholic bishop Deuterius, there must have been voices in the town that spoke of bringing Emeritus back to his throne, whether on terms Augustine would have found acceptable or not. If Emeritus played his cards right, Augustine must have thought, a great coup was possible: restoration of Emeritus to the catholic fold and the happy acceptance of him by the congregation that had long respected him. Emeritus came along. When they were inside, Augustine addressed him: “Brother Emeritus, you’re here. You were at the great conference. If you were defeated there, why have you come here? If you think you weren’t defeated, tell us how you think you were the victor. You were defeated if you were defeated by the truth. But if you think you were defeated by force and that you were yourself the victor in truth—well, there’s no force here. Let your townspeople hear you say how you think you are the victor. [Presumably there was a pause here.] But if you know that truth defeated you, why do you reject the unity of the churches?” Emeritus, the Donatist bishop, said: “The acts of the conference show whether I was loser or winner, whether I was defeated by the truth or oppressed by force.” Augustine, the Catholic bishop, said: “So why have you come here?” Emeritus, the Donatist bishop, said: “To answer your question.” Augustine, the Catholic bishop, said: “I’m asking why you’ve come here; I wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t come.” Emeritus, the Donatist bishop, said to the secretary who was taking all this down: “Do it.” The Latin for Emeritus’s last remark is one word: “Fac.” No one knows exactly what he meant, but he was probably saying something like “go on,” “just do your job,” thus dismissing the whole conversation.501 Emeritus said no more that day in church. So it came Augustine’s turn to deliver his sermon. This is how it went that day: SERMON DELIVERED BY SAINT AUGUSTINE, BISHOP OF HIPPO, TO THE PEOPLE OF THE CHURCH OF CHERCHELL WHEN EMERITUS WAS PRESENT

• From Augustine: A New Biography (2005)

  God creates a new soul for every human being coming into the world alive. This possibility is the hardest to reconcile with original sin—for how would these new souls have contact with those of their ancestors?God created souls in eternity and then sends them down to bodies as he creates the bodies. The problem is the same.God created souls in eternity but they choose in individual acts of rebellion to “lapse” into bodies. On this view, the move into a body is itself the initial rebellious and sinful act, and so each soul has in fact sinned just by coming to be in bodily form. This view is hardest to reconcile with anything in Christian tradition but quite compatible with Platonic views of spirit, matter, and the fall and rise of spirit. It also emphasizes the responsibility of the individual soul for its own plight.God created a single soul in Adam, gave Eve a piece of it, and all natural reproduction since then has passed down new souls sliced off from old ones. If Adam and Eve sinned and their souls were thus tainted, then all their children—virtuous Abel, wicked Cain, and all to follow—got a soul that had become damaged goods. This view, termed “traducianism” in the theological handbooks, is the most material and the easiest to reconcile with an advancing doctrine of original sin.Which of these views did Augustine hold? Astonishingly, he never committed himself. The last two have the most to offer for his wider doctrinal positions, but both had disadvantages. One line of modern scholarship has argued that Augustine avoided the easy path of the traducian option because he was really secretly committed to the Platonic theory of the fallen soul.591 Debate has run heatedly over the last two generations of scholars on this point, with no clear-cut resolution. The fairest and most accurate conclusion would be that Augustine’s indecision was real. He had been driven by his logic to take a public position, and then found himself genuinely torn between parts of his past. Both positions, the Platonic and the traducian, appealed to him, and both were impossible to sustain. The Platonic theory was out of line with the biblical stories, while the traducian interpretation seemed to require a material and corporeal nature of the soul that Augustine abhorred.592

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it! But the whole of their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold, how composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the last evening of their being together! In Edward’s farewell there was no distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an affectionate brother to both. Twice did I leave them purposely together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most unaccountably follow me out of the room. And Elinor, in quitting Norland and Edward, cried not as I did. Even now her self-command is invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?” CHAPTER IX. The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to themselves. The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding them, were now become familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the loss of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed. Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in spite of Sir John’s urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the neighbourhood, and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at their service, the independence of Mrs. Dashwood’s spirit overcame the wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to visit any family beyond the distance of a walk. There were but few who could be so classed; and it was not all of them that were attainable. About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow winding valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, as formerly described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered an ancient respectable looking mansion which, by reminding them a little of Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to be better acquainted with it. But they learnt, on enquiry, that its possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, was unfortunately too infirm to mix with the world, and never stirred from home.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the others, she would have described every room in the house with equal delight. CHAPTER XIV. The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon’s visit at the park, with his steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised the wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, with little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there must be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that could have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not escape them all. “Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure,” said she. “I could see it in his face. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances _now_, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.” So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion varying with every fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose. Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly away, which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides that the circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting amazement or variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise disposed of. It was engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby on the subject, which they must know to be peculiarly interesting to them all. As this silence continued, every day made it appear more strange and more incompatible with the disposition of both. Why they should not openly acknowledge to her mother and herself, what their constant behaviour to each other declared to have taken place, Elinor could not imagine.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “Oh, yes; and as like him as she can stare. I dare say the Colonel will leave her all his fortune.” When Sir John returned, he joined most heartily in the general regret on so unfortunate an event; concluding however by observing, that as they were all got together, they must do something by way of being happy; and after some consultation it was agreed, that although happiness could only be enjoyed at Whitwell, they might procure a tolerable composure of mind by driving about the country. The carriages were then ordered; Willoughby’s was first, and Marianne never looked happier than when she got into it. He drove through the park very fast, and they were soon out of sight; and nothing more of them was seen till their return, which did not happen till after the return of all the rest. They both seemed delighted with their drive; but said only in general terms that they had kept in the lanes, while the others went on the downs. It was settled that there should be a dance in the evening, and that every body should be extremely merry all day long. Some more of the Careys came to dinner, and they had the pleasure of sitting down nearly twenty to table, which Sir John observed with great contentment. Willoughby took his usual place between the two elder Miss Dashwoods. Mrs. Jennings sat on Elinor’s right hand; and they had not been long seated, before she leant behind her and Willoughby, and said to Marianne, loud enough for them both to hear, “I have found you out in spite of all your tricks. I know where you spent the morning.” Marianne coloured, and replied very hastily, “Where, pray?” “Did not you know,” said Willoughby, “that we had been out in my curricle?” “Yes, yes, Mr. Impudence, I know that very well, and I was determined to find out _where_ you had been to. I hope you like your house, Miss Marianne. It is a very large one, I know; and when I come to see you, I hope you will have new-furnished it, for it wanted it very much when I was there six years ago.” Marianne turned away in great confusion. Mrs. Jennings laughed heartily; and Elinor found that in her resolution to know where they had been, she had actually made her own woman enquire of Mr. Willoughby’s groom; and that she had by that method been informed that they had gone to Allenham, and spent a considerable time there in walking about the garden and going all over the house. Elinor could hardly believe this to be true, as it seemed very unlikely that Willoughby should propose, or Marianne consent, to enter the house while Mrs. Smith was in it, with whom Marianne had not the smallest acquaintance.

• From The City of God

  [1403] 2 Pet. iii. 3-13. The whole passage is quoted by Augustin. Chapter 19. --What the Apostle Paul Wrote to the Thessalonians About the Manifestation of Antichrist Which Shall Precede the Day of the Lord. I see that I must omit many of the statements of the gospels and epistles about this last judgment, that this volume may not become unduly long; but I can on no account omit what the Apostle Paul says, in writing to the Thessalonians, "We beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ," [1404] etc. No one can doubt that he wrote this of Antichrist and of the day of judgment, which he here calls the day of the Lord, nor that he declared that this day should not come unless he first came who is called the apostate --apostate, to wit, from the Lord God. And if this may justly be said of all the ungodly, how much more of him? But it is uncertain in what temple he shall sit, whether in that ruin of the temple which was built by Solomon, or in the Church; for the apostle would not call the temple of any idol or demon the temple of God. And on this account some think that in this passage Antichrist means not the prince himself alone, but his whole body, that is, the mass of men who adhere to him, along with him their prince; and they also think that we should render the Greek more exactly were we to read, not "in the temple of God," but "for" or "as the temple of God," as if he himself were the temple of God, the Church. [1405]Then as for the words, "And now ye know what withholdeth," i. e. , ye know what hindrance or cause of delay there is, "that he might be revealed in his own time;" they show that he was unwilling to make an explicit statement, because he said that they knew. And thus we who have not their knowledge wish and are not able even with pains to understand what the apostle referred to, especially as his meaning is made still more obscure by what he adds. For what does he mean by "For the mystery of iniquity doth already work:only he who now holdeth, let him hold until he be taken out of the way:and then shall the wicked be revealed? "I frankly confess I do not know what he means. I will nevertheless mention such conjectures as I have heard or read.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  Miss Steele was going to reply on the same subject, but the approach of her own party made another more necessary. “Oh, la! here come the Richardsons. I had a vast deal more to say to you, but I must not stay away from them not any longer. I assure you they are very genteel people. He makes a monstrous deal of money, and they keep their own coach. I have not time to speak to Mrs. Jennings about it myself, but pray tell her I am quite happy to hear she is not in anger against us, and Lady Middleton the same; and if anything should happen to take you and your sister away, and Mrs. Jennings should want company, I am sure we should be very glad to come and stay with her for as long a time as she likes. I suppose Lady Middleton won’t ask us any more this bout. Good-by; I am sorry Miss Marianne was not here. Remember me kindly to her. La! if you have not got your spotted muslin on!—I wonder you was not afraid of its being torn.” Such was her parting concern; for after this, she had time only to pay her farewell compliments to Mrs. Jennings, before her company was claimed by Mrs. Richardson; and Elinor was left in possession of knowledge which might feed her powers of reflection some time, though she had learnt very little more than what had been already foreseen and foreplanned in her own mind. Edward’s marriage with Lucy was as firmly determined on, and the time of its taking place remained as absolutely uncertain, as she had concluded it would be;—every thing depended, exactly after her expectation, on his getting that preferment, of which, at present, there seemed not the smallest chance. As soon as they returned to the carriage, Mrs. Jennings was eager for information; but as Elinor wished to spread as little as possible intelligence that had in the first place been so unfairly obtained, she confined herself to the brief repetition of such simple particulars, as she felt assured that Lucy, for the sake of her own consequence, would choose to have known. The continuance of their engagement, and the means that were able to be taken for promoting its end, was all her communication; and this produced from Mrs. Jennings the following natural remark.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “It is all very strange. So suddenly to be gone! It seems but the work of a moment. And last night he was with us so happy, so cheerful, so affectionate? And now, after only ten minutes notice—Gone too without intending to return!—Something more than what he owned to us must have happened. He did not speak, he did not behave like himself. You must have seen the difference as well as I. What can it be? Can they have quarrelled? Why else should he have shown such unwillingness to accept your invitation here?” “It was not inclination that he wanted, Elinor; I could plainly see that. He had not the power of accepting it. I have thought it all over I assure you, and I can perfectly account for every thing that at first seemed strange to me as well as to you.” “Can you, indeed!” “Yes. I have explained it to myself in the most satisfactory way;—but you, Elinor, who love to doubt where you can—it will not satisfy you, I know; but you shall not talk me out of my trust in it. I am persuaded that Mrs. Smith suspects his regard for Marianne, disapproves of it, (perhaps because she has other views for him,) and on that account is eager to get him away;—and that the business which she sends him off to transact is invented as an excuse to dismiss him. This is what I believe to have happened. He is, moreover, aware that she does disapprove the connection, he dares not therefore at present confess to her his engagement with Marianne, and he feels himself obliged, from his dependent situation, to give into her schemes, and absent himself from Devonshire for a while. You will tell me, I know, that this may or may not have happened; but I will listen to no cavil, unless you can point out any other method of understanding the affair as satisfactory at this. And now, Elinor, what have you to say?” “Nothing, for you have anticipated my answer.” “Then you would have told me, that it might or might not have happened. Oh, Elinor, how incomprehensible are your feelings! You had rather take evil upon credit than good. You had rather look out for misery for Marianne, and guilt for poor Willoughby, than an apology for the latter. You are resolved to think him blameable, because he took leave of us with less affection than his usual behaviour has shown. And is no allowance to be made for inadvertence, or for spirits depressed by recent disappointment? Are no probabilities to be accepted, merely because they are not certainties? Is nothing due to the man whom we have all such reason to love, and no reason in the world to think ill of? To the possibility of motives unanswerable in themselves, though unavoidably secret for a while? And, after all, what is it you suspect him of?”

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  Could Elinor have listened to her without interruption from the others, she would have described every room in the house with equal delight. CHAPTER XIV. The sudden termination of Colonel Brandon’s visit at the park, with his steadiness in concealing its cause, filled the mind, and raised the wonder of Mrs. Jennings for two or three days; she was a great wonderer, as every one must be who takes a very lively interest in all the comings and goings of all their acquaintance. She wondered, with little intermission what could be the reason of it; was sure there must be some bad news, and thought over every kind of distress that could have befallen him, with a fixed determination that he should not escape them all. “Something very melancholy must be the matter, I am sure,” said she. “I could see it in his face. Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances now, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.” So wondered, so talked Mrs. Jennings. Her opinion varying with every fresh conjecture, and all seeming equally probable as they arose. Elinor, though she felt really interested in the welfare of Colonel Brandon, could not bestow all the wonder on his going so suddenly away, which Mrs. Jennings was desirous of her feeling; for besides that the circumstance did not in her opinion justify such lasting amazement or variety of speculation, her wonder was otherwise disposed of. It was engrossed by the extraordinary silence of her sister and Willoughby on the subject, which they must know to be peculiarly interesting to them all. As this silence continued, every day made it appear more strange and more incompatible with the disposition of both. Why they should not openly acknowledge to her mother and herself, what their constant behaviour to each other declared to have taken place, Elinor could not imagine.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “But I thought it was right, Elinor,” said Marianne, “to be guided wholly by the opinion of other people. I thought our judgments were given us merely to be subservient to those of neighbours. This has always been your doctrine, I am sure.” “No, Marianne, never. My doctrine has never aimed at the subjection of the understanding. All I have ever attempted to influence has been the behaviour. You must not confound my meaning. I am guilty, I confess, of having often wished you to treat our acquaintance in general with greater attention; but when have I advised you to adopt their sentiments or to conform to their judgment in serious matters?” “You have not been able to bring your sister over to your plan of general civility,” said Edward to Elinor, “Do you gain no ground?” “Quite the contrary,” replied Elinor, looking expressively at Marianne. “My judgment,” he returned, “is all on your side of the question; but I am afraid my practice is much more on your sister’s. I never wish to offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I am only kept back by my natural awkwardness. I have frequently thought that I must have been intended by nature to be fond of low company, I am so little at my ease among strangers of gentility!” “Marianne has not shyness to excuse any inattention of hers,” said Elinor. “She knows her own worth too well for false shame,” replied Edward. “Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or other. If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy and graceful, I should not be shy.” “But you would still be reserved,” said Marianne, “and that is worse.” Edward started—“Reserved! Am I reserved, Marianne?” “Yes, very.” “I do not understand you,” replied he, colouring. “Reserved!—how, in what manner? What am I to tell you? What can you suppose?” Elinor looked surprised at his emotion; but trying to laugh off the subject, she said to him, “Do not you know my sister well enough to understand what she means? Do not you know she calls every one reserved who does not talk as fast, and admire what she admires as rapturously as herself?” Edward made no answer. His gravity and thoughtfulness returned on him in their fullest extent—and he sat for some time silent and dull. CHAPTER XVIII. Elinor saw, with great uneasiness the low spirits of her friend. His visit afforded her but a very partial satisfaction, while his own enjoyment in it appeared so imperfect. It was evident that he was unhappy; she wished it were equally evident that he still distinguished her by the same affection which once she had felt no doubt of inspiring; but hitherto the continuance of his preference seemed very uncertain; and the reservedness of his manner towards her contradicted one moment what a more animated look had intimated the preceding one.

• From The City of God

  that is, they who had served others, and thereby merited to be remembered by them. Just as if they used the expression so common in Christian lips, where some humble person commends himself to one of the saints, and says, Remember me, and secures that he do so by deserving well at his hand. But what that kind of life we have been speaking of is, and what those sins are which prevent a man from winning the kingdom of God by himself, but yet permit him to avail himself of the merits of the saints, it is very difficult to ascertain, very perilous to define. For my own part, in spite of all investigation, I have been up to the present hour unable to discover this. And possibly it is hidden from us, lest we should become careless in avoiding such sins, and so cease to make progress. For if it were known what these sins are which, though they continue, and be not abandoned for a higher life, do yet not prevent us from seeking and hoping for the intercession of the saints, human sloth would presumptuously wrap itself in these sins, and would take no steps to be disentangled from such wrappings by the deft energy of any virtue, but would only desire to be rescued by the merits of other people, whose friendship had been won by a bountiful use of the mammon of unrighteousness. But now that we are left in ignorance of the precise nature of that iniquity which is venial, even though it be persevered in, certainly we are both more vigilant in our prayers and efforts for progress, and more careful to secure with the mammon of unrighteousness friends for ourselves among the saints.

• From Cults Inside Out: How People Get In and Can Get Out (2014)

  Most people who join Scientology begin as “publics,” people who pay for Scientology courses and services but are not on staff.928 Celebrity Scientologists like actors Tom Cruise and John Travolta are essentially publics, but they are catered to and receive special treatment, such as special handling at Scientology’s so-called celebrity centers.929 Scientology courses and services can be quite expensive and therefore potentially represent a substantial financial burden to the average income earner and at times even for the wealthy.930 Some publics have joined Sea Org in the hope that further training and services would be available, essentially in exchange for work. Sea Org members have signed “billion year contracts” tying themselves to Scientology seemingly forever, based on a belief in past and future lives.931 After nearly thirty years as a public Scientologist, the husband wanted to do more to “clear the planet.” “Clearing the planet” is Scientology jargon that essentially means recruiting people into Scientology so they can supposedly become cleared of negativity through Scientology courses and training. The husband felt that at this point in his life he could best accomplish this task by serving Scientology as a staff person. Now that his two children were adults and not living at home, only his marriage remained as an obstacle. He must leave his wife, who had never fully embraced Scientology, and move on. After more than twenty years of marriage, the husband had never been able to convince his wife to do more than take a few Scientology courses. The couple owned a home and had raised their two children together, but now the husband was restless. He must fulfill his destiny through Scientology. And since his wife wouldn’t support this full-time mission, he must leave her and go it alone. After receiving divorce papers, the wife called her children, and a kind of family intervention took place. The wife and children cried and pleaded. They begged the husband and father not to separate from the family by going into relative seclusion in the Sea Organization. They knew that Sea Org members may cut off their families and have little, if any, meaningful communication. And if family members questioned such behavior or offered any criticism of Scientology, they might be labeled “suppressive persons,” or SPs, and then summarily be dismissed through what Scientologists calls the “disconnection” process. After the emotional catharsis of the family intervention, the husband agreed to pause and reconsider the situation. His family’s pleas affected him deeply, but he was confused and torn between his dual loyalties of Scientology and family. At this juncture the wife called her sister-in-law. The husband’s family had long been concerned about his involvement in Scientology, but much like his wife, they had kept their criticism private for fear of losing him. Now with the evidence mounting that he might submerge completely in Scientology, they decided to take immediate action and retained me to facilitate an intervention.

• From Sense and Sensibility (1811)

  “How strange this is! what can be the meaning of it! But the whole of their behaviour to each other has been unaccountable! How cold, how composed were their last adieus! How languid their conversation the last evening of their being together! In Edward’s farewell there was no distinction between Elinor and me: it was the good wishes of an affectionate brother to both. Twice did I leave them purposely together in the course of the last morning, and each time did he most unaccountably follow me out of the room. And Elinor, in quitting Norland and Edward, cried not as I did. Even now her self-command is invariable. When is she dejected or melancholy? When does she try to avoid society, or appear restless and dissatisfied in it?” CHAPTER IX. The Dashwoods were now settled at Barton with tolerable comfort to themselves. The house and the garden, with all the objects surrounding them, were now become familiar, and the ordinary pursuits which had given to Norland half its charms were engaged in again with far greater enjoyment than Norland had been able to afford, since the loss of their father. Sir John Middleton, who called on them every day for the first fortnight, and who was not in the habit of seeing much occupation at home, could not conceal his amazement on finding them always employed. Their visitors, except those from Barton Park, were not many; for, in spite of Sir John’s urgent entreaties that they would mix more in the neighbourhood, and repeated assurances of his carriage being always at their service, the independence of Mrs. Dashwood’s spirit overcame the wish of society for her children; and she was resolute in declining to visit any family beyond the distance of a walk. There were but few who could be so classed; and it was not all of them that were attainable. About a mile and a half from the cottage, along the narrow winding valley of Allenham, which issued from that of Barton, as formerly described, the girls had, in one of their earliest walks, discovered an ancient respectable looking mansion which, by reminding them a little of Norland, interested their imagination and made them wish to be better acquainted with it. But they learnt, on enquiry, that its possessor, an elderly lady of very good character, was unfortunately too infirm to mix with the world, and never stirred from home.

• From A Greek-English Lexicon (Liddell-Scott) (1957)

  Tapaxh, by syncop. τάρχη (Hesych.), 7, trouble, disorder, confusion, τῆς κοιλίης Hipp. Coac. 151. 2. of the mind, οὐ φρενῶν ταραχαΐ Pind. O. 7.55; γνώμης Isocr. 16 A (cf. ταραχώδης) ; ἐν πολλῇ ταραχῇ kat φόβῳ ὄντας Thue. 3. 79; τ. παρέχειν Plat. Phaedo 66 D, cf. Rep. 602D; ἐν οἵαις ἣν ταραχαῖς Dem. 301. 11; πολλὴν ἔχει τ, Arist. Pol. 2.8, 12; τ. μειρακιώδους μεστός Isocr. 278 E, cf. 426. 8. of an army or fleet, Thuc. 3.77, Xen. Hell. 7. 5, 27, etc.; ἐν τῇ ταραχῇ in the confusion, in the mélée, Hdt. 3. 126. 4, political confusion, tumult, and in pl, éwmults, troubles, πολλὴ τ. περὶ τῶν τιμέων ἔγένετο Id. 4. 162, cf. 6.5; ἐν τῇ τ. Id. 3. 150; αἱ τ. γίγνονται Lys. 125. 93 T. ἔγ- γίγνεταί τισι Isae. 47. 1; τ. ποιεῖν τισι Thuc. 7. 86; ἐς τ. καθιστάναι τινάς Id. 4. 75, Isocr., etc.; καθεῖναι εἰς τ. Dem. 179. 203 ἐν τ. καθε- στηκέναι Isocr. 281 Β; ἐν ταραχαῖς εἶναι Id. 69 A, Dem. 301. 11; ταραχῆς τε καὶ ἀνομίας μεστὸς εἶναι Plat. Alc. 2.146 B, cf. Isocr. 33 B; τ. γίγνεται τῶν ~vppaxwy πρὸς τοὺς Λακεδαιμονίους Thuc. 6. 25, cf. Dem. 231.103 7. ἐμπίπτει Aeschin. 65.14; τ. διαλύειν, κατασβεννύναι Isocr. 68 B, Xen. Cyr. 5.3, 55. τἄρἄχο-ποιός, dv, causing disorder or confusion, Aesop. 37. τἀρἄχος [ἃ], ὅ, --ταραχή. Xen. An. 1. 8, 2, Cyr. 7. 1, 32, Oec. 8, Io. τἀρἄχώδησ, ες, (εἶδος) roublous, fond of troubling, turbulent, τὸ θεῖόν... ἐὸν φθονερόν τε καὶ ταραχῶδες Hdt. 1.32; τύχη Isocr. 50C; ἴχνη τ. uncertain, baffling, Xen. Cyn. 5, 43 τ. ἡ κρίσις, ἡ σκέψις Arist. Pol. 2. 8, 14., 8. 2, 2; of arguments, Isocr. 247 Ε ; φάρμακον Luc. D. Mar. 2. ὩΣ 2. of political agitators, Dion. H. 6. 70. ΤΙ. troubled, disordered, κοιλίη τ. Hipp. Epid. 1. 940, Coac. 119: generally, confused, Arist. Meteor. 2. 5, 4. 2. of an army, etc., τ. ναυμαχία Thue. 1. / 493 στράτευμα, στρατιά Xen. Cyr. 3. 3, 26, Occ. 8, 4. 3. of the mind, disordered, delirious, γνῶμαι τ. Hipp. Coac. 168, cf. Foés. Oec. TIL. Ady. -δῶς, τ. ζῆν to live in a state of confusion, Isocr. 1527 g2E; τ. ἔχειν πρύς τινα to be rebelliously disposed, Dem. 1477. 7; 1. ὑπολαμβάνειν περί τινος to have confused notions, Isocr. 230 A; ταρα- χωδέστατα διακεῖσθαι Id. 148 B, 160 C, TapBadéos, a, ov, (τάρβος) frighted, fearful, h. Hom. Merc, 165, Soph. Tr. 9533; τ. δάκρυα tears of distress; Maxim. 7. καταρχ. 331. II. Jearful, terrible, χέων Nonn. D. 25. 101.

• From House of Holes: A Book of Raunch (2011)

  She tweaked his nipple, as Kathy had done, and his hand brushed her away. That was good—it was a sign of his having preferences. She wanted to know what Nedbody wanted and what he didn’t want. “I think I want you to have no clothes on,” she said to him. She pulled, and he got up, and she slipped the robe off and slipped his underpants off, and he almost lost his balance getting out of them, but she held his arm to steady him. Then she walked him over to the bed and stood behind him. His butt was his best feature, it was quite amazing—two strong bouncy male musclecakes covered in a furze of hair. She helped him bend forward, and, showing him how to place his hands, she urged him to lie on his stomach on the bed. He did so, his legs hanging out over the floor. She wanted to look at everything about him. She punched lightly at his ass cheeks, and then she looked at the back part of his balls for a while. Then she lifted the phone. Kathy answered. “Kathy,” she said, “I don’t think I can do this. I really need him to have a head.” Kathy came back in. “I’m so sorry, Reese, his head is unavailable.” She said. “You have to make do. But have a look at this body.” She pointed to him facedown on the bed. He was sleeping. He seemed to drop off easily. A slight sound of breathing escaped from his neckhole. “Can you at least give me some pointers?” “Sure,” Kathy said. “He likes to be massaged. The seat of his intelligence is his lower back, so I massage there first to get his attention. It’s like getting eye contact.” She parted his legs and stood between them, squeezing her thumbs into his back. He stirred slightly in his sleep. “Another thing is he likes you to tickle just behind his knees. Watch.” She tickled, and Nedbody’s legs jumped. She tickled again. Reese noticed that now Nedbody’s hips were grinding into the bed. She turned to Kathy. “He seems to be getting into the bed action there.” “That’s what he does, poor guy,” said Kathy. “Anytime you put any pressure on his genitals, he dry humps you.” “Oh,” said Reese. “Well, I can live with that.” “I’m going to leave you now,” said Kathy. “It’s a little traumatic for me because I take care of him. I can’t help it. Sometimes I feel jealousy. But I want him to have as good a time as he can have, and I have to do an oil change on three of the other guys.” “What’s an oil change?” “All the bodily necessities—we have to flush them out every other day to keep them healthy.” “This is pretty impressive but pretty nutty,” Reese said.

• From Cults Inside Out: How People Get In and Can Get Out (2014)

  The young mother repeatedly tried to minimize, if not negate, the central role of Master Li and whatever controversy existed regarding his teachings. But she remained respectful of her parents. The young woman endured the stressful discussion to demonstrate that respect, even though she continually refused to recognize the substance and significance of her family’s concerns. As sundown approached the young woman again tried to change the subject and focus of conversation. She pointed out that the supernatural claims made in the context of Judaism could likewise not be proved. She asked pointed questions. “Did the miracles mentioned in the Bible really occur?” “Did Moses part the Red Sea?” “What about Noah’s Ark?” “What accounts in the Bible were actually proved to be historical?” The young woman’s questions were an attempt to create an alternate argument that would engage everyone, especially her family. I then asked her if she meant to imply that the supernatural claims Falun Gong made were the equivalent of the stories found in the Bible—that they should then be understood as religious claims based on faith. She didn’t readily respond to this query. But I pursued the point and asked specifically if she meant to say that Li Hongzhi’s claims were religious claims. And if so, had that been her understanding when she first made contact with the group? Had Falun Gong been presented to her as a religion, and not just a set of exercises? Had she been recruited or proselytized by a religious group? She didn’t answer directly, but these questions seemed to intrigue her. I then made two points in quick succession. First, if Falun Gong was a religion based on faith claims, she should have been told this fact from the very beginning. It was deceptive if she had been led to believe that Falun Gong was merely a type of physical exercise. Anything less than full disclosure during the initial recruitment phase had been deceptive. Second, if Falun Gong was, in fact, a religion, how could she be expected to practice two religions simultaneously? The young woman seemed puzzled by this question, but I moved on, realizing there was limited time before sunset and the end of Sabbath restrictions. We then discussed the racist statements Li Hongzhi had made. Li has stated, “By mixing the races of humans, the aliens make humans cast off gods.” He also claims that “mixed races” are supposedly excluded from the “truth” and “have lost their roots.” He says that “they belong to nowhere, and no places would accept them…The higher levels do not recognize such a human race.”853 According to Li the offspring of mixed-race unions are somehow “intellectually incomplete” or “with an incomplete body.” According to Li only he can “take care of it” by resolving that “incomplete” state.

• From Cults Inside Out: How People Get In and Can Get Out (2014)

  I asked the husband whether he felt Landmark Education regarded its philosophy as the only meaningful and truly effective framework for resolving life’s issues or problems. And if this wasn’t the case, what alternative approach did the Forum leader specifically cite or mention that might be seriously considered as equal to the LGAT? The doctor demurred; he couldn’t recall any such alternative the Forum leader specifically discussed during his training. Finally, we discussed the fourth criterion or warning sign cited in the article. Did the Forum leader and Landmark volunteers appear to be “true believers”? Was the attitude they expressed one that researchers said essentially “sealed their doctrine off from discomforting data or disquieting results and tended to discount a poor result by ‘blaming the victim’”?1067 He admitted that someone said information posted through the Internet that was critical of Landmark should be disregarded and that a Forum participant who didn’t “get it” or was somehow resistant to the training might be labeled as “uncoachable.” We then reviewed the three basic building blocks of coercive persuasion, which Edgar Schein historically described.1068 Could these stages of coercive persuasion generally correlate with the process of training Landmark provided? Weren’t Forum participants essentially subjected to a similar three-stage process, which included what Schein described as “unfreezing,” “changing,” and “refreezing”?1069 For example, didn’t Landmark training first go through a kind of confrontational and confessional breaking or thawing phase, as Schein described? Wasn’t this then followed by a period of intense pressure focused on changing participants’ perspectives and perceptions? Did the Forum process end by locking in Erhard’s ideas through group pressure and agreement? Was it probable that this locking down or freezing at times was also further accomplished through a kind of embedding socialization within a kind of Landmark subculture? This simple, fundamental three-stage structure of classic coercive persuasion, as Schein outlined, correlates to both the eight criteria psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton used to establish the existence of a thought-reform program and the six conditions psychologist Margaret Singer used to describe “the tactics of a thought-reform program.”1070 We examined both the three stages and the detailed correlations Lifton and Singer offered to see how they might potentially parallel Landmark. Singer stated that during the unfreezing phase there is an effort to “destabilize a person’s sense of self” and that the subject is kept largely “unaware of what is going on.”1071 I asked the doctor whether he had precisely and in detail understood before he began the training what would be presented during the Landmark Education weekend seminar, known as the Forum. The doctor responded that he had actually known very little about Landmark before beginning the training other than what his son had said, which included a rather vague general description of the program. We talked about how a Forum leader typically solicited and facilitated frequently painful confessionals from participants; during this process the leader might be quite demanding, harsh, and judgmental.

• From Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953)

  And this presented her with a problem that she had refused, at home in Maryland, to think about, but from which, now, she could not escape: the problem of their life together. Reality, so to speak, burst in for the first time on her great dreaming, and she found occasion to wonder, ruefully, what had made her imagine that, once with Richard, she would have been able to withstand him. She had kept, precariously enough, what her aunt referred to as her pearl without price while she had been with Richard down home. This, which she had taken as witness to her own feminine moral strength, had been due to nothing more, it now developed, than her great fear of her aunt, and the lack, in that small town, of opportunity. Here, in this great city where no one cared, where people might live in the same building for years and never speak to one another, she found herself, when Richard took her in his arms, on the edge of a steep place: and down she rushed, on the descent uncaring, into the dreadful sea. So it began. Had it been waiting for her since the day she had been taken from her father’s arms? The world in which she now found herself was not unlike the world from which she had, so long ago, been rescued. Here were the women who had been the cause of her aunt’s most passionate condemnation of her father—hard-drinking, hard-talking, with whisky- and cigarette-breath, and moving with the mystic authority of women who knew what sweet violence might be acted out under the moon and stars, or beneath the tigerish lights of the city, in the raucous hay or the singing bed. And was she, Elizabeth, so sweetly fallen, so tightly chained, one of these women now? And here were die men who had come day and night to visit her father’s ‘stable’—with their sweet talk and their music, and their violence and their sex—black, brown, and beige, who looked on her with lewd, and lustful, and laughing eyes. And these were Richard’s friends. Not one of them ever went to Church—one might scarcely have imagined that they knew that churches existed—they all, hourly, daily, in their speech, in their lives, and in their hearts, cursed God. They all seemed to be saying, as Richard, when she once timidly mentioned the love of Jesus, said: ‘You can tell that puking bastard to kiss my big black arse.’ She, for very terror on hearing this, had wept; yet she could not deny that for such an abundance of bitterness there was a positive fountain of grief. There was not, after all, a great difference between the world of the North and that of the South which she had fled; there was only this difference: the North promised more.