The creation of a world view is the work of a generation rather than of an individual, but we each of us, for better or for worse, add our brick to the edifice.
We need to recognise that the whole edifice of our fifth estate, of our journalism, has been built on a foundation of newspaper journalism and that that foundation is crumbling. The management of the media companies will deny that the end is nigh. I hope they are right.
Humility is a good estate; founded thereon, the whole spiritual edifice grows into a holy temple in the Lord. Through humility, some have even possessed the gates of their enemies. For which of the virtues is so mighty to subdue the pride of demons and the tyranny of men?
Virtually any pointed edifice is considered a candidate for alien engineering. After all, how could the Egyptians or Mayans have possibly stacked up stone blocks into pyramids?
James Bond: Another Carver building. If I didn't know better, I'd say he developed an edifice complex.
Mr. Banks: [singing] A man has dreams of walking with giants. To carve his niche in the edifice of time. Before the mortar of his seal has a chance to congeal... The cup is dashed from his lips! The flame is snuffed a-borning... He's brought to wrack and ruin in his prime.
Bert: Now this im-posin' edifice what first meets the eye is the 'ome of Admiral Boom, late of His Majesty's Navy. Likes his house ship-shape, he does. Shipe-shape and Bristol fashion at all times!
[the Admiral blows his whistle]
Admiral Boom: Time gun ready?
Mr. Binnacle: Ready and charged, sir.
Admiral
Boom: Three minutes and six seconds.
Mr. Binnacle: Aye, aye, sir.
Bert: What he's famous for is punctuality. The whole world takes its time from Greenwich, but Greenwich, they say, takes its time from Admiral Boom.
[to Admiral Boom]
Bert: Wotcher, Admiral!
Admiral Boom: Good afternoon to
you, young man. Where are you bound?
Bert: Number 17. Got some parties 'ere in town what wants to see it.
Admiral Boom: [to Binnacle] Enter that in the log.
Mr. Binnacle: Aye, aye, sir.
Admiral Boom: A word of advice, young man: storm signals are up at number 17. Bit of heavy weather brewing there.
Bert: Thanks, sir. Keep an eye skinned.
[continues walking]
Bert: Here we are, 17 Cherry Tree Lane, home of George Banks Esquire.
[screaming and shouting is heard from the house]
Bert: 'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! Admiral's right: heavy weather brewin' at number 17 and no mistake.