The couple and their children have flaxen hair.
As the escort carriers chug away south, their single 5-inch rear guns are now cleared to open fire as the range closes. Disappointed gunners on other weapons are informed, Just wait a little longer, boys; we're suckering them into 40-mm range.
Just wait a little longer, boys; we're suckering them into 40-mm range.
[They explain] that if there is no need to say that understanding things in this way is necessary for the attainment of buddahood, how much more so that it be a sine qua non for liberation from samsāra.
Are we to measure our wisdom by the Persian Schœne, or by the cubits of a child, and to write so imperfectly as not to write at all but to copy the midday shadows, or lines which meet right in front of you, whose lengths are foreshortened and which show themselves in glimpses rather than plainly, being recognized only by certain of their extremities?
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