Cradle 2 the grave download torrent

Racconto di Natale megavideo parte1 , parte2. Radio America megavideo. Radiofreccia megavideo. Ran messagefromme. Rapina record a New York megavideo. Raquel sta per sposarsi zipd , youload , movshare , supernovatube , megavideo. Rat-Man e il segreto del Supereroe megavideo. Rat race megavideo. Ratatouille Walt Disney megavideo. Ratman e il segreto del supereroe wuapi.

Rendition — Detenzione illegale megavideo parte1 , parte2. Red sands — La forza oscura movshare , megavideo. Reservation road megavideo. Resident evil: Apocalypse megavideo. Resident Evil: Degeneration megavideo.

Revolutionary Road movshare parte1 , parte2 , youload parte1 , parte2 , supernovatube parte1 , parte2 , megavideo parte1 , parte2. Revolver megavideo , megavideo , megavideo. Ricordati di me megavideo. Riddik megavideo. Riflessi di paura megavideo parte1 , parte2. Ritorno al Futuro megavideo. Ritorno al Futuro 2 megavideo.

Rize — Alzati e balla zipd. Rob Roy megavideo. Robin Hood Walt Disney megavideo. Robocop megavideo. Robocop 2 megavideo. Robocop 3 megavideo. Robots megavideo. Rock star megavideo. Rocky 1 megavideo. Rocky 2 megavideo. Rocky 3 megavideo. Rocky 4 megavideo.

Rocky 5 megavideo. Rocky Balboa wuapi. Rogue — Il solitario youload , veoh. Roma violenta megavideo. Romanzo criminale kewego parte1 , parte2. Romeo deve morire movshare.

Roxanne megavideo. Rumori fuori scena megavideo. Saludos amigos Walt Disney megavideo. Salvate il soldato Ryan megavideo. Salvatore Giuliano viddler. Saw megavideo. Saw II megavideo , megavideo. Saw III megavideo. Saw IV megavideo , megavideo. Saw V wuapi , zipd , movshare , megavideo. Scarlet diva megavideo. Scary movie 1 megavideo. Scary movie 2 megavideo. Scary movie 4 megavideo. Schegge di paura megavideo. Scuola di ladri veoh.

Scuola di polizia 2 — Prima missione megavideo. Scuola di polizia 3 — Tutto da rifare megavideo. Scuola di polizia 4 — Cittadini in… guardia! Scusate il ritardo megavideo. Se mi lasci ti cancello megavideo. Seabiscuit — Un mito senza tempo megavideo.

Secret windows megavideo. Segreti e bugie megavideo. Senti chi parla veoh. Senti chi parla 2 veoh. Senza nome e senza regole megavideo. Senza tregua megavideo. Sepolto vivo megavideo. And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.

And there are those who talk, and 69 without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words. When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue. For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered.

You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons. Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing. And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space. And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?

But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,. Verily when good is hungry it seeks food even in dark caves, and when it thirsts it drinks even of dead waters.

And a ship without rudder may wander aimlessly among perilous isles yet sink not to the bottom. For when you strive for gain you are but a root that clings to the earth and sucks at her breast. Yet you are not evil when you go thither limping.

But you who are strong and swift, see that you do not limp before the lame, deeming it kindness. In your longing for your giant self lies your goodness: and that longing is in all of you. But in some of you that longing is a torrent rushing with might to the sea, carrying the secrets of the hillsides and the songs of the forest.

And in others it is a flat stream that loses itself in angles and bends and lingers before it reaches the shore. You pray in your distress and in your need; would that you might pray also in the fullness of your joy and in your days of abundance.

And if it is for your comfort to pour your darkness into space, it is also for your delight to pour forth the dawning of your heart. And if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing.

When you pray you rise to meet in the air those who are praying at that very 77 hour, and whom save in prayer you may not meet. Therefore let your visit to that temple invisible be for naught but ecstasy and sweet communion. For if you should enter the temple for no other purpose than asking you shall not receive:. Or even if you should enter into it to beg for the good of others you shall not be heard.

And I cannot teach you the prayer of the seas and the forests and the mountains. And if you but listen in the stillness of the night you shall hear them saying in silence,. It is thy urge in us that would turn our nights, which are thine, into days which are thine also.

We cannot ask thee for aught, for thou knowest our needs before they are born in us:. And I fain would have you sing it with fullness of heart; yet I would not have you lose your hearts in the singing.

Some of your youth seek pleasure as if it were all, and they are judged and rebuked. I would have them seek. Have you not heard of the man who was digging in the earth for roots and found a treasure? And some of your elders remember pleasures with regret like wrongs committed in drunkenness. They should remember their pleasures with gratitude, as they would the harvest of a summer. And in their fear of seeking and remembering 81 they shun all pleasures, lest they neglect the spirit or offend against it.

Shall the nightingale offend the stillness of the night, or the firefly the stars? Oftentimes in denying yourself pleasure you do but store the desire in the recesses of your being. And it is yours to bring forth 82 sweet music from it or confused sounds. Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower,.

And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? She speaks in our spirit. And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.

But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. But you are life and you are the veil. And that which is neither deed nor reflection, but a wonder and a surprise ever springing in the soul, even while the hands hew the stone or tend the loom? All your hours are wings that beat through space from self to self. And he to whom worshipping is a window, to open but also to shut, has not yet visited the house of his soul whose windows are from dawn to dawn.

For in revery you cannot rise above your achievements nor fall lower than your failures. And take with you all men: 89 For in adoration you cannot fly higher than their hopes nor humble yourself lower than their despair. And look into space; you shall see Him walking in the cloud, outstretching His arms in the lightning and descending in rain. The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. And Almitra the seeress said, Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken. Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him. And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck. We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us.

This type must not be regarded as a fanciful figure: it is not a nebulous hope which is to be realised at some indefinitely remote period, thousands of years hence; nor is it a new species in the Darwinian sense of which we can know nothing, and which it would therefore be somewhat absurd to strive after. But it is meant to be a possibility which men of the present could realise with all their spiritual and physical energies, provided they adopted the new values.

Could not a rejuvenated Graeco-Roman system of valuing once it had been refined and made more profound by the schooling which two thousand years of Christianity had provided effect another such revolution within a calculable period of time, until that glorious type of manhood shall finally appear which is to be our new faith and hope, and in the creation of which Zarathustra exhorts us to participate?

Sad enough; but it is unavoidable that we should look on the worthiest aims and hopes of the man of the present day with ill-concealed amusement, and perhaps should no longer look at them. I made a note of the thought on a sheet of paper, with the postscript: 6, feet beyond men and time!

That day I happened to be wandering through the woods alongside of the lake of Silvaplana, and I halted beside a huge, pyramidal and towering rock not far from Surlei.

It was then that the thought struck me. Looking back now, I find that exactly two months previous to this inspiration, I had had an omen of its coming in the form of a sudden and decisive alteration in my tastes—more particularly in music.

At all events, a very necessary condition in its production was a renaissance in myself of the art of hearing. In a small mountain resort Recoaro near Vicenza, where I spent the spring of , I and my friend and Maestro, Peter Gast—also one who had been born again—discovered that the phoenix music that hovered over us, wore lighter and brighter plumes than it had done theretofore.

During the month of August my brother resolved to reveal the teaching of the Eternal Recurrence, in dithyrambic and psalmodic form, through the mouth of Zarathustra. Just as he was beginning to recuperate his health, however, an unkind destiny brought him a number of most painful personal experiences. His friends caused him many disappointments, which were the more bitter to him, inasmuch as he regarded friendship as such a sacred institution; and for the first time in his life he realised the whole horror of that loneliness to which, perhaps, all greatness is condemned.

But to be forsaken is something very different from deliberately choosing blessed loneliness. How he longed, in those days, for the ideal friend who would thoroughly understand him, to whom he would be able to say all, and whom he imagined he had found at various periods in his life from his earliest youth onwards. Now, however, that the way he had chosen grew ever more perilous and steep, he found nobody who could follow him: he therefore created a perfect friend for himself in the ideal form of a majestic philosopher, and made this creation the preacher of his gospel to the world.

My health was not very good; the winter was cold and exceptionally rainy; and the small inn in which I lived was so close to the water that at night my sleep would be disturbed if the sea were high. In the morning I used to start out in a southerly direction up the glorious road to Zoagli, which rises aloft through a forest of pines and gives one a view far out into the sea. In the afternoon, as often as my health permitted, I walked round the whole bay from Santa Margherita to beyond Porto Fino.

This spot was all the more interesting to me, inasmuch as it was so dearly loved by the Emperor Frederick III. In the autumn of I chanced to be there again when he was revisiting this small, forgotten world of happiness for the last time. With the exception of the ten days occupied in composing the first part of this book, my brother often referred to this winter as the hardest and sickliest he had ever experienced. He did not, however, mean thereby that his former disorders were troubling him, but that he was suffering from a severe attack of influenza which he had caught in Santa Margherita, and which tormented him for several weeks after his arrival in Genoa.

Even the reception which the first part met with at the hands of friends and acquaintances was extremely disheartening: for almost all those to whom he presented copies of the work misunderstood it. I tried to leave it. I wanted to go to Aquila—the opposite of Rome in every respect, and actually founded in a spirit of enmity towards that city just as I also shall found a city some day , as a memento of an atheist and genuine enemy of the Church—a person very closely related to me,—the great Hohenstaufen, the Emperor Frederick II.

But Fate lay behind it all: I had to return again to Rome. In the end I was obliged to be satisfied with the Piazza Barberini, after I had exerted myself in vain to find an anti-Christian quarter. I fear that on one occasion, to avoid bad smells as much as possible, I actually inquired at the Palazzo del Quirinale whether they could not provide a quiet room for a philosopher.

Ten days sufficed. Neither for the second, the first, nor the third part, have I required a day longer. If not, I will describe it. If one had the smallest vestige of superstition in one, it would hardly be possible to set aside completely the idea that one is the mere incarnation, mouthpiece or medium of an almighty power.

The idea of revelation in the sense that something becomes suddenly visible and audible with indescribable certainty and accuracy, which profoundly convulses and upsets one—describes simply the matter of fact. One hears—one does not seek; one takes—one does not ask who gives: a thought suddenly flashes up like lightning, it comes with necessity, unhesitatingly—I have never had any choice in the matter.

There is the feeling that one is completely out of hand, with the very distinct consciousness of an endless number of fine thrills and quiverings to the very toes;—there is a depth of happiness in which the painfullest and gloomiest do not operate as antitheses, but as conditioned, as demanded in the sense of necessary shades of colour in such an overflow of light.

There is an instinct for rhythmic relations which embraces wide areas of forms length, the need of a wide-embracing rhythm, is almost the measure of the force of an inspiration, a sort of counterpart to its pressure and tension. Everything happens quite involuntarily, as if in a tempestuous outburst of freedom, of absoluteness, of power and divinity. The involuntariness of the figures and similes is the most remarkable thing; one loses all perception of what constitutes the figure and what constitutes the simile; everything seems to present itself as the readiest, the correctest and the simplest means of expression.

On every simile dost thou here ride to every truth. I do not doubt but that one would have to go back thousands of years in order to find some one who could say to me: It is mine also!

In the autumn of my brother left the Engadine for Germany and stayed there a few weeks. Many hidden corners and heights in the landscapes round about Nice are hallowed to me by unforgettable moments.

My most creative moments were always accompanied by unusual muscular activity. Without a suggestion of fatigue I could then walk for seven or eight hours on end among the hills.

I slept well and laughed well—I was perfectly robust and patient. The composition of the fourth part alone was broken by occasional interruptions. The first notes relating to this part were written while he and I were staying together in Zurich in September In the following November, while staying at Mentone, he began to elaborate these notes, and after a long pause, finished the manuscript at Nice between the end of January and the middle of February My brother then called this part the fourth and last; but even before, and shortly after it had been privately printed, he wrote to me saying that he still intended writing a fifth and sixth part, and notes relating to these parts are now in my possession.

This fourth part the original MS. He often thought of making this fourth part public also, but doubted whether he would ever be able to do so without considerably altering certain portions of it. At all events he resolved to distribute this manuscript production, of which only forty copies were printed, only among those who had proved themselves worthy of it, and it speaks eloquently of his utter loneliness and need of sympathy in those days, that he had occasion to present only seven copies of his book according to this resolution.

Already at the beginning of this history I hinted at the reasons which led my brother to select a Persian as the incarnation of his ideal of the majestic philosopher. Zarathustra was the first to see in the struggle between good and evil the essential wheel in the working of things.

The translation of morality into the metaphysical, as force, cause, end in itself, was HIS work. But the very question suggests its own answer. In his teaching alone do we meet with truthfulness upheld as the highest virtue—i. Zarathustra had more courage in his body than any other thinker before or after him.

Am I understood? When Zarathustra was thirty years old, he left his home and the lake of his home, and went into the mountains. There he enjoyed his spirit and solitude, and for ten years did not weary of it. But at last his heart changed,—and rising one morning with the rosy dawn, he went before the sun, and spake thus unto it:. Thou great star! What would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest! For ten years hast thou climbed hither unto my cave: thou wouldst have wearied of thy light and of the journey, had it not been for me, mine eagle, and my serpent.

But we awaited thee every morning, took from thee thine overflow and blessed thee for it. I am weary of my wisdom, like the bee that hath gathered too much honey; I need hands outstretched to take it. I would fain bestow and distribute, until the wise have once more become joyous in their folly, and the poor happy in their riches.

Therefore must I descend into the deep: as thou doest in the evening, when thou goest behind the sea, and givest light also to the nether-world, thou exuberant star! Bless me, then, thou tranquil eye, that canst behold even the greatest happiness without envy! Bless the cup that is about to overflow, that the water may flow golden out of it, and carry everywhere the reflection of thy bliss! This cup is again going to empty itself, and Zarathustra is again going to be a man.

Zarathustra went down the mountain alone, no one meeting him. When he entered the forest, however, there suddenly stood before him an old man, who had left his holy cot to seek roots. And thus spake the old man to Zarathustra:. Zarathustra he was called; but he hath altered. Then thou carriedst thine ashes into the mountains: wilt thou now carry thy fire into the valleys?

Yea, I recognise Zarathustra. Pure is his eye, and no loathing lurketh about his mouth. Goeth he not along like a dancer? Altered is Zarathustra; a child hath Zarathustra become; an awakened one is Zarathustra: what wilt thou do in the land of the sleepers?

As in the sea hast thou lived in solitude, and it hath borne thee up. Alas, wilt thou now go ashore? Alas, wilt thou again drag thy body thyself? Was it not because I loved men far too well? Now I love God: men, I do not love. Man is a thing too imperfect for me. Love to man would be fatal to me.

I am bringing gifts unto men. If, however, thou wilt give unto them, give them no more than an alms, and let them also beg for it! I am not poor enough for that. They are distrustful of anchorites, and do not believe that we come with gifts.

The fall of our footsteps ringeth too hollow through their streets. And just as at night, when they are in bed and hear a man abroad long before sunrise, so they ask themselves concerning us: Where goeth the thief? Go not to men, but stay in the forest! Go rather to the animals! Why not be like me—a bear amongst bears, a bird amongst birds? With singing, weeping, laughing, and mumbling do I praise the God who is my God.

But what dost thou bring us as a gift? Let me rather hurry hence lest I take aught away from thee! When Zarathustra arrived at the nearest town which adjoineth the forest, he found many people assembled in the market-place; for it had been announced that a rope-dancer would give a performance.

And Zarathustra spake thus unto the people:. Man is something that is to be surpassed. What have ye done to surpass man? All beings hitherto have created something beyond themselves: and ye want to be the ebb of that great tide, and would rather go back to the beast than surpass man?

What is the ape to man? A laughing-stock, a thing of shame. And just the same shall man be to the Superman: a laughing-stock, a thing of shame. Ye have made your way from the worm to man, and much within you is still worm. Once were ye apes, and even yet man is more of an ape than any of the apes. Even the wisest among you is only a disharmony and hybrid of plant and phantom. But do I bid you become phantoms or plants? The Superman is the meaning of the earth.

Poisoners are they, whether they know it or not. Despisers of life are they, decaying ones and poisoned ones themselves, of whom the earth is weary: so away with them! Once blasphemy against God was the greatest blasphemy; but God died, and therewith also those blasphemers. To blaspheme the earth is now the dreadfulest sin, and to rate the heart of the unknowable higher than the meaning of the earth!

Once the soul looked contemptuously on the body, and then that contempt was the supreme thing:—the soul wished the body meagre, ghastly, and famished. Thus it thought to escape from the body and the earth. Oh, that soul was itself meagre, ghastly, and famished; and cruelty was the delight of that soul! But ye, also, my brethren, tell me: What doth your body say about your soul?

Is your soul not poverty and pollution and wretched self-complacency? Verily, a polluted stream is man. One must be a sea, to receive a polluted stream without becoming impure.

Lo, I teach you the Superman: he is that sea; in him can your great contempt be submerged. What is the greatest thing ye can experience? It is the hour of great contempt. The hour in which even your happiness becometh loathsome unto you, and so also your reason and virtue. It is poverty and pollution and wretched self-complacency. But my happiness should justify existence itself! Doth it long for knowledge as the lion for his food? It is poverty and pollution and wretched self-complacency!

As yet it hath not made me passionate. How weary I am of my good and my bad! It is all poverty and pollution and wretched self-complacency! I do not see that I am fervour and fuel. The just, however, are fervour and fuel! Is not pity the cross on which he is nailed who loveth man?

But my pity is not a crucifixion. Have ye ever spoken thus? Have ye ever cried thus? It is not your sin—it is your self-satisfaction that crieth unto heaven; your very sparingness in sin crieth unto heaven! Where is the lightning to lick you with its tongue?

Where is the frenzy with which ye should be inoculated? But the rope-dancer, who thought the words applied to him, began his performance. Man is a rope stretched between the animal and the Superman—a rope over an abyss. A dangerous crossing, a dangerous wayfaring, a dangerous looking-back, a dangerous trembling and halting. I love those that know not how to live except as down-goers, for they are the over-goers.

I love the great despisers, because they are the great adorers, and arrows of longing for the other shore. I love those who do not first seek a reason beyond the stars for going down and being sacrifices, but sacrifice themselves to the earth, that the earth of the Superman may hereafter arrive. I love him who liveth in order to know, and seeketh to know in order that the Superman may hereafter live.

Thus seeketh he his own down-going. I love him who laboureth and inventeth, that he may build the house for the Superman, and prepare for him earth, animal, and plant: for thus seeketh he his own down-going. I love him who loveth his virtue: for virtue is the will to down-going, and an arrow of longing.

I love him who reserveth no share of spirit for himself, but wanteth to be wholly the spirit of his virtue: thus walketh he as spirit over the bridge. I love him who maketh his virtue his inclination and destiny: thus, for the sake of his virtue, he is willing to live on, or live no more.

I love him who desireth not too many virtues. I love him whose soul is lavish, who wanteth no thanks and doth not give back: for he always bestoweth, and desireth not to keep for himself. I love him who scattereth golden words in advance of his deeds, and always doeth more than he promiseth: for he seeketh his own down-going. I love him who justifieth the future ones, and redeemeth the past ones: for he is willing to succumb through the present ones.

I love him who chasteneth his God, because he loveth his God: for he must succumb through the wrath of his God. I love him whose soul is deep even in the wounding, and may succumb through a small matter: thus goeth he willingly over the bridge.

I love him whose soul is so overfull that he forgetteth himself, and all things are in him: thus all things become his down-going.

I love him who is of a free spirit and a free heart: thus is his head only the bowels of his heart; his heart, however, causeth his down-going. I love all who are like heavy drops falling one by one out of the dark cloud that lowereth over man: they herald the coming of the lightning, and succumb as heralds. When Zarathustra had spoken these words, he again looked at the people, and was silent.

Must one first batter their ears, that they may learn to hear with their eyes? Must one clatter like kettledrums and penitential preachers? Or do they only believe the stammerer? They have something whereof they are proud. What do they call it, that which maketh them proud? Culture, they call it; it distinguisheth them from the goatherds. So I will appeal to their pride.

It is time for man to fix his goal. It is time for man to plant the germ of his highest hope. Still is his soil rich enough for it.

But that soil will one day be poor and exhausted, and no lofty tree will any longer be able to grow thereon. I tell you: one must still have chaos in one, to give birth to a dancing star. I tell you: ye have still chaos in you.

There cometh the time when man will no longer give birth to any star. There cometh the time of the most despicable man, who can no longer despise himself. What is creation? What is longing? What is a star? The earth hath then become small, and on it there hoppeth the last man who maketh everything small. His species is ineradicable like that of the ground-flea; the last man liveth longest. They have left the regions where it is hard to live; for they need warmth.

Turning ill and being distrustful, they consider sinful: they walk warily. He is a fool who still stumbleth over stones or men! A little poison now and then: that maketh pleasant dreams. And much poison at last for a pleasant death. One still worketh, for work is a pastime. But one is careful lest the pastime should hurt one. One no longer becometh poor or rich; both are too burdensome. Who still wanteth to rule? Who still wanteth to obey? Both are too burdensome.

No shepherd, and one herd! Every one wanteth the same; every one is equal: he who hath other sentiments goeth voluntarily into the madhouse. Steve 19 September at Morel Villatoro 21 September at The Lowrider 26 September at Admin 28 September at Kie the an 30 September at Aethryix 30 September at Unknown 2 October at Unknown 7 October at Unknown 12 October at TheOneBeatle 13 October at Guido 19 October at Unknown 20 October at Unknown 4 November at Unknown 6 November at Ricardo Rivera 14 November at Jade Star 15 November at Unknown 15 November at Flowerbass 15 November at Unknown 16 November at Lukestar 16 November at Unknown 19 November at Admin 11 December at Unknown 20 November at Juan Luis Rey 21 November at Rich 24 November at Unknown 26 November at Unknown 6 December at Unknown 7 December at Unknown 20 December at Unknown 13 December at Anonymous 15 December at MusicLover27 19 December at Simon 24 December at Simon 25 December at J28 25 December at Unknown 27 December at David7Simon 2 January at Celka 6 January at Unknown 6 January at Unknown 9 January at Unknown 20 January at Exploding cure 20 January at Unknown 23 January at Marcos Buccella 26 January at Unknown 26 January at Unknown 27 January at Burrio 30 January at Unknown 1 February at Greyson chance portugal 1 February at Unknown 2 February at Luigi Bastardo 3 February at Unknown 4 February at El maestro 5 February at William Tewse 10 February at Morel Villatoro 13 February at Rems 15 February at Unknown 18 February at Ian Thives 18 February at XD e Os Gordinhos 18 February at Unknown 21 February at Fahd Sikandar 22 February at Winter 3 March at Sineslito 4 March at Unknown 5 March at Tucows, Inc has graciously donated a copy of this software to the Internet Archive's Tucows Software Archive for long term preservation and access.

Please check the Tucows website for all current versions of the software. Uploaded by pt on November 4, Internet Archive's 25th Anniversary Logo.