United States or Kosovo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The fifty-year-old enterprise, involving the purchase of land for the construction, the exterior and interior ornamentation, and the landscaping of the grounds of the holiest House of Worship ever to be reared to the glory of the Most Great Name, the Mother Temple of the West, and involving the expenditure of over two and a half million dollars, has been consummated, in time for its dedication to public worship during the Ridván period of this Holy Year coinciding with both the fiftieth anniversary of the inception of this enterprise and the one-hundredth anniversary of the birth of Bahá’u’lláh’s ministry.
Day before yesterday evening I called on Frau von Vrintz, a sister of Meyendorf's wife; the diplomatic folks assemble every evening in her drawing-room. Countess Thun was there, a very handsome young woman, in the style of Malvinia; also the Marquis de Tallenay, French Ambassador, a polite fifty-year-old; Count Szechenyi, a gay young Magyar, full of pranks, and divers other foreign personages.
Owing to temperate habits and a strong physique, he had kept in good health, and no one would have dreamed that this strong, fifty-year-old man had passed so many years in an enervating tropical climate. The only signs it had left on his face were the dark, yellowish color of his skin, and the habit of keeping the eyes half-closed.
"Why shouldn't psychic freaks have biceps? We keep forgetting that we've dragged our fifty-year-old carcasses into an entirely new age a wireless, horseless, man-flying, star-chasing age. Why, after shock upon shock of scientific discovery, shouldn't the human brain, like a sensitive plate, be thinned down to keener, more sensitive, perceptions?"
Right, left, downward, his blood-drunkenness growing in savage abandonment with every minute. Yes, he was ready ready in his own way but past hearing. "Damn the English," was his answer to La Mothe, his mind back in the fifty-year-old tragedy.
"Never mind sending down to the club for your other clothes," Bishop was saying. "I've got several suits, such as they are, and I reckon one of them will fit ye." "This blanket is pretty good," declared the magnate. "Say, Jim, what was it you said about that fifty-year-old cider?" "I'm glad I didn't give you any more of it; I'd lost my life as well as my clothes," declared the farmer.
Word Of The Day