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911- was sound asleep when i woke up with a sense of dread.. was like all of a sudden every sound around me fell silent. with a rush. then my wife comes in and says someone attacked NY.
challenger- 7th grade in the library at school. I was the only one that knew for certian that it blew up. i started crying and our prinicpal look at me and said whats wrong son. I say the boosters exploded or something. everyone turned to the one kid that never said anything and was an outcast and for once i was the center of thier world answering questions as the events unfolded about how the space shuttles work. (background my uncles father helped design the seats for the early space shuttles) i new alot about them even back then.
and i quote *its gone sir, they died. well never get to mars now*
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It means only one thing, and everything: Cut. Once committed to fight, Cut. Everything else is secondary. Cut. That is your duty, your purpose, your hunger. There is no rule more important, no commitment that overrides that one. Cut. The lines are a portrayal of the dance. Cut from the void, not from bewilderment. Cut the enemy as quickly and directly as possible. Cut with certainty. Cut decisively, resoultely. Cut into his strength. Flow through the gaps in his guard. Cut him. Cut him down utterly. Don't allow him a breath. Crush him. Cut him without mercy to the depth of his spirit. It is the balance to life: death. It is the dance with death. It is the law a war wizard lives by, or he dies.
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