Inspirasi Kediri Bertutur

                                    You're not alone. Being a decent sort is not enoughto guarantee good rapport with another person. In thedictionary, "rapport" is defined as "harmonious or27sympathetic communication." In our interpersonalcommunications, we go through certain routines whenwe first meet a new person. If these routines work outand rapport is established, we can begin to deliver ourcommunication with some certainty that it will beaccepted and given serious consideration. Seriousconsideration is vital because the fundamental outcomeof rapport is the perception of credibility, whichin turn will lead to mutual trust. If credibility is notestablished, the messenger and not the message maybecome the focus of attention, and that attention willharbor discomfort.
                                    Her star vehicle this fall is an early 19th-century opera, Il Turco In Italia (The Turk in Italy), written by Gioacchino Rossini prior to his masterpiece, The Barber of Seville.

                                                                    'And now,' said the Comte de Bleuville, 'what have you got to tell me that necessitated this personal visit?' He turned his fixed smile on Bond. The dark-green glass eyes were unfathomable. 'Not of course that the visit is not most welcome, most welcome. Now then, Sir Hilary.'

                                                                    Dinner ended at nine. "Now we will go over and introduce you to the Moonraker," said Drax, rising abruptly from the table. "Walter will accompany us. He has much to do. Come along, my dear Bond."


                                                                    In March, 1864, Lincoln writes to Grant: "New York votes to give votes to the soldiers. Tell the soldiers." The decision of New York in regard to the collection from the soldiers in each field of the votes for the coming Presidential election was in line with that arrived at by all of the States. The plan presented difficulties and, in connection with the work of special commissioners, it involved also expense. It was, however, on every ground desirable that the men who were risking their lives in defence of the nation should be given the opportunity of taking part in the selection of the nation's leader, who was also under the Constitution the commander-in-chief of the armies in the field. The votes of some four hundred thousand men constituted also an important factor in the election itself. I am not sure that the attempt was ever made to separate and classify the soldiers' vote but it is probable that although the Democratic candidate was McClellan, a soldier who had won the affection of the men serving under him, and the opposing candidate was a civilian, a substantial majority of the vote of the soldiers was given to Lincoln.
                                                                    'If there is a next time, it will be across your teeth,' said the thin man in bad French.
                                                                    But while I was writing La Vendee I made a literary attempt in another direction. In 1847 and 1848 there had come upon Ireland the desolation and destruction, first of the famine, and then of the pestilence which succeeded the famine. It was my duty at that time to be travelling constantly in those parts of Ireland in which the misery and troubles thence arising were, perhaps, at their worst. The western parts of Cork, Kerry, and Clare were pre-eminently unfortunate. The efforts — I may say, the successful efforts — made by the Government to stay the hands of death will still be in the remembrance of many:— how Sir Robert Peel was instigated to repeal the Corn Laws; and how, subsequently, Lord John Russell took measures for employing the people, and supplying the country with Indian corn. The expediency of these latter measures was questioned by many. The people themselves wished, of course, to be fed without working; and the gentry, who were mainly responsible for the rates, were disposed to think that the management of affairs was taken too much out of their own hands. My mind at the time was busy with the matter, and, thinking that the Government was right, I was inclined to defend them as far as my small powers went. S. G. O. (Lord Sydney Godolphin Osborne) was at that time denouncing the Irish scheme of the Administration in the Times, using very strong language — as those who remember his style will know. I fancied then — as I still think — that I understood the country much better than he did; and I was anxious to show that the steps taken for mitigating the terrible evil of the times were the best which the Minister of the day could have adopted. In 1848 I was in London, and, full of my purpose, I presented myself to Mr. John Forster — who has since been an intimate and valued friend — but who was at that time the editor of the Examiner. I think that that portion of the literary world which understands the fabrication of newspapers will admit that neither before his time, nor since, has there been a more capable editor of a weekly newspaper. As a literary man, he was not without his faults. That which the cabman is reported to have said of him before the magistrate is quite true. He was always “an arbitrary cove.” As a critic, he belonged to the school of Bentley and Gifford — who would always bray in a literary mortar all critics who disagreed from them, as though such disagreement were a personal offence requiring personal castigation. But that very eagerness made him a good editor. Into whatever he did he put his very heart and soul. During his time the Examiner was almost all that a Liberal weekly paper should be. So to John Forster I went, and was shown into that room in Lincoln’s Inn Fields in which, some three or four years earlier, Dickens had given that reading of which there is an illustration with portraits in the second volume of his life.
                                                                    Through half-closed shutters sudden radiance gleam,

                                                                                                    They watched the last bucketing lurches and then they held their breath as the aircraft, see-sawing wildly, gave a final tip to its nose and, as if the bush had been its enemy, made an angry dive through a twenty-yard curve and hurled itself and the threshing rotors into the stack of thorns.

                                                                                                                                    ???While Flatt'rers, like himself, with short-liv'd Fame,

                                                                                                                                                                                                    Henry saw, and endeavoured to avoid Oswald; but the unhappy being crossed his path, and seized on his throat with violence, reiterating, “Villain! villain! villain!” accusing him of deeds of the blackest dye, and calling upon him with threats and imprecations to restore the rights of his son! At first Henry, to do him justice, only sought to escape; next, only to defend himself: but when it became evident that the maniac’s purpose was to put him to death, and that, with that purpose, was coupled an insane glee at the immediate prospect of its fulfilment; and that, added to all this, Henry began to feel himself actually threatened with strangulation; his own angry passions kindled, and he put his strength to the struggle. Oswald,[363] however, having at first fastened on Henry’s cravat, maintained his hold with the ferocious tenacity of a bull-dog, and pursued his advantage with the supernatural force derived from phrenzy. There were moments when Henry gave himself up for lost! It was now that he forgot his assailant’s age and imbecility of mind, and with all the strength of youthful sinews clasped his arms round the old man’s waist, and, in a few seconds, brought him to the ground. Here the sight of Oswald’s grey hairs lying amid the grass and fallen leaves might have recalled better feelings; but even here the poor maniac’s fury was unabated: his countenance still expressed his horrible intention, and his hand still grasped the cravat of Henry. In the latter the instinct of self-preservation grew each moment more fierce.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    For a very long while the material resources and the biological condition of the race did remain in effect constant. To the subjects of the world empire it seemed certain that the existing order was eternal. The idea of progress, material or mental, had long since ceased to seem plausible, for society was universally regarded as perfect. On the other hand the idea of racial decline was never contemplated. But behind the appearance of stability great changes were already at work, both in the physical environment and in the constitution of the human race itself.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    We went to an hotel by the sea, where two gentlemen were smoking cigars in a room by themselves. Each of them was lying on at least four chairs, and had a large rough jacket on. In a corner was a heap of coats and boat-cloaks, and a flag, all bundled up together.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    We alighted; and followed the plain coffin to a corner I remember well, where the service was read consigning it to the dust.