Touch-me-not

English name Small balsam, small flower touch-me-not... 

F. nolitangere ( poison bun sponge or touch-me-not sponge ) owes its name to the fact that its sting provokes a much more violent reaction than the one described above. This sponge colonizes the waters of Central America. 

In the summer of 1963, I learned that I had won the American Chemical Society Award in Petroleum Chemistry for my work on Friedel-Crafts chemistry. It was a most welcome recognition for someone who only a few years earlier had fled his native country and started all over on a far-away continent. Although I have received numerous other awards and recognitions over the years, with the exception of the Nobel Prize, no other award touched me as much. 1 remember that my first ACS award carried with it a check for 5,000. My research director for some reason believed that a company employee was not... 

Perhaps you have experienced the sense of well-being that a good therapeutic relationship engenders. I know that I have. I had a doctor in New Jersey who had the most wonderful bedside manner. Dr Doubek - I called her Mamie - looked me in the eye when I spoke. She listened, she nodded, she showed concern. She did not seem the least bit hurried or rushed. And I do not know if she is aware of this, but at least once during each visit she touched me briefly on the arm while talking to me. I felt cared for, understood. 

When I consider the small span of my life absorbed in the eternity of all time, or the small part of space which I can touch or see engulfed by the infinite immensity of spaces that I know not and that know me not, I am frightened and astonished. 

Something aches inside my belly and it s not quite for Adam. These things are further beyond me even than he is they inhabit me, but I ve no hope of touching them. 

My fears for Antony never wholly left me, any more than my fear for John had the King s silent grief touched it and made my voice tremble just a little. Such a sorrow is hard to bear. And perhaps the more for those not granted time to mourn. ... 

He had not, it was true. And I found I had not forgotten how to please him in our time apart. I knew how to yield my flesh inch by slow inch to his desire, and how to command that he please me, each finger touching where I, in turn, desired it. 

Mark holds out a hand to me, palm down, the way you do when you want to touch someone just a little, at a safe distance. Yes, I stayed. . . Our eyes meet, but not with the heat of our shared past and present as they did at the castle. He looks tired and a little sad. Maybe he feels I m a safe distance away from him, safe enough to say these things, to ask for just a little help. His hand cups the back of mine for a moment. 

After a long time I feel Stephen s arm about my back, a slight touch, then a firmer one when I do not shake it off, gripping my shoulder. It brings me back, and I realize my shirt has fallen open. 

This third edition of Analytical Chemistry for Technicians is the culmination and final product of a series of four projects funded by the National Science Foundation s Advanced Technological Education Program and two supporting grants from the DuPont Company. The grant funds have enabled me to utilize an almost limitless reservoir of human and other resources in the development and completion of this manuscript and to vastly improve and update the previous edition. A visible example is the CD that accompanies this book. This CD, which was not part of the previous editions, provides, with a touch of humor, a series of real-world scenarios for students to peruse while studying the related topics in the text. 

Assisting Prof. Ferro in the preparation of this book has been for me a great honour. It is my hope that this book will be able to convey to the reader not only a systematic view of a complex matter, but also a feeling of the human touch given to it by Prof. Ferro. 

Let me conclude this chapter with one more remark. When a man looks into a mirror, he sees therein reflected an image of himself. If, however, he try to touch it, he will find that it is not palpable, and that he has laid his hand upon the mirror only. In the same way, the spirit which must be evolved from this Matter is visible, but not palpable. This spirit is the root of the life of our bodies, and the Mercury of the Philosophers, from which is prepared the liquid water of our Art - the water which must once more receive a material form, and be rectified by means of certain purifying agents into the most perfect Medicine. For we begin with a firm and palpable body, which subsequently becomes a volatile spirit, and a golden water, without any conversion, from which our Sages derive their principle of life. Ultimately we obtain the indestructible medicine of human and metallic bodies,... 

Although Nyholm had been in London previously it was not until 1955 that I met him. He had become enthused with the power of crystal field theory and had asked me to discuss certain ideas with him. I have only a hazy recollection of the meeting in so far as its chemical content was concerned but I remember clearly the brisk, Uvely and humorous manner in which he conducted the conversation. He was warm and friendly with a touch of pugnacious assertiveness in his voice. His enthusiasm carried a challenge to debate. 

Readers frequently ask me about the methods I have used to become a prolific book author. Readers also wonder how they can get published. So, in this chapter, I would like to talk about personal experiences I ve had as a writer and with the business of publishing. In the previous chapter, I mentioned that Marcel Proust was forced to pay for the publication of his masterpiece. In Search of Lost Time. Luckily, I ve not had to do that with any of my books. In contrast, no publisher would initially touch In Search of Lost Time, even though today it is hailed as one of the best novels ever written. In 1919, one of its earlier volumes. Within a Budding Grove, won France s most prestigious literary award, the Goncourt Prize. 

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