concession Citations

Revision is a dangerous word. Revision should never appear, I venture to think, in the mouth of a statesman or in the policy of a Government until they are prepared to define very closely the limits within which they think revision should take place. The long history of this country has in one sense been a history of the revision of Treaties. We have revised and revised and what have we got for

it? What concession once made has any longer kept the value it had before it was revised? Of which of these concessions can it be said at this present moment that it has tempered feeling in Germany, that it has produced that friendly spirit that those who made it desired to promote? What is passing in Germany seems to me to render this a singularly inopportune moment to talk about the revision of

Treaties.

Radical Islam has seen us for what we are: a soft touch. It sees that political correctness is like a drug that we just can't stop injecting, even though we know it's going to kill us. And they're taking full advantage of that, turning our sense of fairness against us, and making us despise ourselves for one of our best qualities. And any concession made will be seen as a sign of weakness to be

exploited further, because there is no dialogue with radical Islam. It doesn't want to be agreed with, it wants to be obeyed. It thinks it has the God-given right, aptly enough, to make the rules, not just for Muslims, but for everyone, and some of us, frankly, think that's a little bit too much to ask.

I used to be a lot more critical of Israel, and I used to believe there was a fairly simple two-state solution, because I used to believe the Arabs were acting in good faith. I still want to believe that, but the evidence tells me I'd be a fool to believe it, because I've seen that every concession Israel makes is met with more demands and more excuses not to negotiate. They could have had peace

ten times over if they wanted it, but they don't want peace, they want victory, and they won't be happy until Israel is wiped from the map. A member of Fatah central committee said as much on television recently, but as he said, they keep that to themselves, and tell the rest of the world a different story.

The term "ideographic" has been used not only by those who espouse its basic meaning but also by others who do not necessarily accept the concept but use the term out of mere force of habit as an established popular designation for Chinese characters. I find, to my chagrin, that in my previous publications I have been guilty of precisely this concession to popular usage without being aware of the

damage it can cause. As a repentant sinner I pledge to swear off this hallucinogen. I hope others will join in consigning the term to the Museum of Mythological Memorabilia along with unicorn horns and phoenix feathers.

The fact is that for complex systems like the bacterial flagellum no biologist has or is anywhere close to reconstructing its history in Darwinian terms. Is Darwinian theory therefore falsified? Hardly. I have yet to witness one committed Darwinist concede that any feature of nature might even in principle provide countervailing evidence to Darwinism. In place of such a concession one is instead

always treated to an admission of ignorance. Thus it's not that Darwinism has been falsified or disconfirmed, but that we simply don't know enough about the biological system in question and its historical context to determine how the Darwinian mechanism might have produced it.

Deerslayer, ou Hawkeye, comme l’Indien venait de l’appeler pour la première fois, car il porta ce nom par la suite dans tout ce pays, prit la main du sauvage, qui rendit le dernier soupir en regardant avec un air d’admiration un étranger qui avait montré tant de sang-froid, d’adresse et de fermeté dans toute cette scène. Si le lecteur se rappelle que la plus grande satisfaction que

puisse éprouver un Indien, c’est de voir son ennemi montrer de la faiblesse, il en appréciera mieux la conduite qui avait extorqué à celui-ci une si grande concession à l’instant de sa mort. 

Quelle étrange fée a frappé les soeurs Brontë de sa baguette ? Car c est toujours un enchantement d entendre la voix d une de ces sirènes.Ah si elles avaient pu vivre et écrire encore et encore !
Pourtant Anne est différente de ses soeurs. Plus réaliste, moins névrosée que Charlotte, et tellement moins rebelle que la sauvage Emily. Et pourtant on se retrouve en paysages connus,

nature sombre et splendide, souffles du vent, sentiments bruts sans mélange. Pas de compromis, pas de soumission, résister, mais ici, avec Agnès, dans l'apparente douceur et le silence.
Gouvernante impuissante et humiliée par des familles déliquescentes dont elle dresse un portrait sans concession et toujours d actualité, Agnès fait l expérience de l échec d un bon sens qu elle

croyait partagé par tous et assiste, non sans une certaine cruauté, à la chute de ses pupilles ingouvernables et mal élevés. Ce faisant elle se met à rechercher dans ce monde des âmes honnêtes et fortes qui lui seraient soeurs.
Curieux mélange d analyse sociologique et de romantisme débridé, absolument moderne au style translucide et envoûtant, on quitte toujours ces chefs d

oeuvre avec un sentiment de manque, de deuil, et le désir compulsif de replonger dans le deuxième roman de la troisième mais non la moindre des génies de Haworth, la locataire de Wildfeld Hall. + Lire la suiteCommenter  J’apprécie          205

La nuit où naquit Effia dans la chaleur moite du pays fanti, un feu embrasa la forêt, jouxtant la concession de son père.
Il progressa rapidement, creusant son chemin depuis des jours.
Il se nourrissait d'air;
il dormait dans les grottes et se cachait dans les arbres;
il brûla,
se propagea ,
insensible à la désolation qu'il laissait derrière lui, jusqu'à

ce qu'il atteigne un village ashanti.
Là, il disparut, se fondant dans la nuit.

La nuit où naquit Effia dans la chaleur moite du pays fanti, un feu embrasa la forêt jouxtant la concession de son père. Il progressa rapidement, creusant son chemin pendant des jours. Il se nourrissait d’air ; il dormait dans les grottes et se cachait dans les arbres ; il brûla, se propagea, insensible à la désolation qu’il laissait derrière lui, jusqu’à ce qu’il atteigne un

village ashanti.