Charles Bridge ( German die Karlsbrücke , originally the Stone Bridge ) is the oldest standing bridge over the Vltava River in Prague and the second oldest surviving bridge in the Czech Republic .
Construction of the bridge began in 1357 under the auspices of King Charles IV. and was completed in 1402 . Thanks to the stone bridge, Prague became an important stop on European trade routes .
A reporter asked a 120 year old man the secret of his long life.
Old man: "I didn't argue with anyone."
Reporter: "Can you really say that?"
Old man: "You're right, you can't."
“Man reacheth perfection through good deeds, voluntarily performed, not through good deeds the doing of which was forced upon him. And sharing is a personally chosen righteous act: that is, the rich should extend assistance to the poor, they should expend their substance for the poor, but of their own free will, and not because the poor have gained this end by force. For the harvest of force is turmoil and the ruin of the social order. On the other hand voluntary sharing, the freely chosen expending of one’s substance, leadeth to society’s comfort and peace. It lighteth up the world; it bestoweth honor upon humankind." --Abdu’l-Baha
(Steve Renfro)
The story read something like this: "A kitten was found on the streets of Japan. The vet said he probably wouldn’t live. A boy named him 'Koma' and decided this was a job for Ultraman".
On my walk before dawn, I was thinking about how many Persian Baha'is I have been blessed to have known over the years. Rather than the extermination, the effect of the persecutions at home has been the spreading of the Faith around the world by the beloved sons and daughters of Iran who so gloriously mirror the love of Baha'u'llah.
For steadfastness and protection, I pray each morning for the imprisoned and persecuted Baha'is and their families, and have done so since the imprisonment of the Yaran* (Friends).
So to my great surprise, I found a birthday greeting posted by Mahvash Sabet Shahriari, a distant friend on Facebook who had been imprisoned for ten years as a member of the Yaran and for whom I have prayed daily.
*Circumstances related to the forming of the Yaran.
3 Sep 1983
In response to the Iranian authorities banning all Bahá'í administrative and community activities and the making of membership in a Bahá'í assembly a criminal offence, as their last act the National Spiritual Assembly of Iran sent an open letter to the Prosecutor General of the Islamic Revolution refuting the false charges made against the Bahá’ís and informing him of their willingness to obey the government and disband the Bahá'í administration. [BW19:43]
In a gesture of good will and in accordance with their law of obedience to the government the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá'ís of Iran and all local assemblies were dissolved. In its place, they formed groups of three persons in cities and villages called Khadimeen (“Servants”), and on the national level named the Yaran-e Iran to address the immediate needs of the community such as births, marriages, divorces, burial ceremonies and other services. [BW19:62] LINK
The Yaran prior to arrest and imprisonment in 2008
Mahvash upon release after ten years imprisonment.
19 Sep 2017
"Mahvash Sabet, one of the seven members of the former leadership group of the Bahá'ís in Iran known as the Yaran, was released after 10 years of confinement in Iran's notorious Evin and Raja'i Shahr prisons.
She had been arrested in March 2008 and was now 64 years old. Mrs. Sabet distinguished herself by the loving care and kindness she extended to her fellow prisoners. As has occurred with prisoners of conscience, writers, thought-leaders, and poets who have been wrongly imprisoned throughout history, the power of Mrs. Sabet's ideas and beliefs was only amplified by her persecution. The plight of its author attracted attention to this deeply moving collection of poetry, inspiring PEN International to feature Mrs. Sabet in a campaign to defend persecuted writers. Her poems also inspired a musical composition by award-winning composer Lasse Thoresen, performed at an international music festival in Oslo earlier this year. " [BWNS1198]
A dangling participle walks into a bar. Enjoying a cocktail and chatting with the bartender, the evening passes pleasantly.
A bar was walked into by the passive voice.
An oxymoron walked into a bar, and the silence was deafening.
Two quotation marks walk into a “bar.”
A malapropism walks into a bar, looking for all intensive purposes like a wolf in cheap clothing, muttering epitaphs and casting dispersions on his magnificent other, who takes him for granite.
Hyperbole totally rips into this insane bar and absolutely destroys everything.
A question mark walks into a bar?
A non sequitur walks into a bar. In a strong wind, even turkeys can fly.
Papyrus and Comic Sans walk into a bar. The bartender says, "Get out—we don't serve your type."
A mixed metaphor walks into a bar, seeing the handwriting on the wall but hoping to nip it in the bud.
A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink and then leaves.
Three intransitive verbs walk into a bar. They sit. They converse. They depart.
A synonym strolls into a tavern.
At the end of the day, a cliché walks into a bar—fresh as a daisy, cute as a button, and sharp as a tack.
A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.
Falling slowly, softly falling, the chiasmus collapses to the bar floor.
A figure of speech literally walks into a bar and ends up getting figuratively hammered.
An allusion walks into a bar, despite the fact that alcohol is its Achilles heel.
The subjunctive would have walked into a bar, had it only known.
A misplaced modifier walks into a bar owned by a man with a glass eye named Ralph.
The past, present, and future walked into a bar. It was tense.
A dyslexic walks into a bra.
A verb walks into a bar, sees a beautiful noun, and suggests they conjugate. The noun declines.
An Oxford comma walks into a bar, where it spends the evening watching the television getting drunk and smoking cigars.
A simile walks into a bar, as parched as a desert.
A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to forget.
A hyphenated word and a non-hyphenated word walk into a bar and the bartender nearly chokes on the irony.
