Mật Mã Tây Tạng - Tập 7 tải xuống LIT miễn phí

Sara Wird raffaellisara — It was so detailed that I could not finish reading.

Ci Ci souci — Although the sexist language of the book and its scientific positivism dates it somewhat, Loren Eiseley's The Immense Journey remains a classic. He narrates a history of the human species in the context of life on this planet throughout the scope of time. Glimpsed through his eyes, we can see the improbable and amazing persistence and adaptability of life in the face of eons of inhospitable conditions and successful and failed experiments. I found it a fascinating lens with which to consider existential and ecological questions. I reveled in the descriptions of how angiosperms transformed the planet from green and brown to brilliant hues and made possible a great diversity of plant, insect, bird, mammalian and even specifically human life, finding it a very apt companion on a trip to Costa Rica's cloud forest in Monteverde. I puzzled with Eiseley over the mysterious naked bipedal prolonged adolescence and large brain of our species and how it came to be. Yet the part of the book that actually made me cry with delight came at the end. Three vignettes moved me greatly, because they were moments that moved Eiseley greatly and he marveled over them. One concerned a spider, another two sparrowhawks and the another a group of birds. The latter involved a raven who had caught a nestling and carried it to a branch to eat it. "The sound that awoke me was the outraged cries of the nestling's parents, who flew helplessly in circles about the clearing. The sleek black monster was indifferent to them. He gulped, whetted his beak on the dead branch a moment and sat still. Up to that point the little tragedy had followed the usual pattern. But suddenly, out of all that area of woodland, a soft sound of complaint began to rise. Into the glade fluttered small birds of half a dozen varieties drawn by the anguished outcries of the tiny parents. No one dared to attack the raven. But they cried there in some instinctive common misery, the bereaved and the unbereaved. The glade filled with their soft rustling and their cries. They fluttered as though to point their wings at the murderer. There was a dim intangible ethic he had violated, that they knew. He was a bird of death. And he, the murderer, the black bird at the heart of life, sat on there, glistening in the common light, formidable, unmoving, unperturbed, untouchable. The sighing died. It was then I saw....in the midst of protest, they forgot the violence. There, in that clearing, the crystal note of a song sparrow lifted hesitantly in the hush. And finally, after painful fluttering, another took the song, and then another, the song passing from one bird to another, doubtfully at first, as though some evil thing were being slowly forgotten. Till suddenly they took heart and sang from many throats joyously together as birds are known to sing. They sang because life is sweet and sunlight beautiful. They sang under the brooding shadow of the raven. In simple truth they had forgotten the raven, for they were the singers of life, not death." (174-175). I hope you will read the book for many reasons, not least of which might be to encounter the other two vignettes.

April Kappus _pril_ae_appus — fascinating story

Do D patedobaa0 — I really don't know who this book is meant for. The atheists have already chosen their course; the believers already know the "absolute" truth and won't be swayed by a book; who is left then? I think that this book is for the open-minded readers who can appreciate reason and reasonable arguments.

Fernando Santos fezsantos — back from when i wanted to be a child psychologist.

Bubble Minion pitchfever4406 — This book was so gorgeous that it broke my heart. "You were just a boy on a bed in a room, like a kaleidoscope is a tube full of bits of broken glass. But the way I saw you was pieces refracting the light, shifting into an infinite universe of flowers and rainbows and insects and planets, magical dividing cells, pictures no one else knew ... Your whole life you can be told something is wrong and so you believe it." -Wasteland