Cells can be programmed to commit suicide if a tribunal of proteins determine that this is necessary. Apoptosis is then initiated and a cascade prompts caspases to begin destroying proteins in the cell. This may produce a cure for all viruses.
Below: neurotransmitters pour into the synaptic cleft after an axon has fired.
The deep danger, the only one that made him, as an idea, positively turn cold, would have been the possiblity of her seeking him in marriage, of her bringing between them that terrible issue. Here fortunately she was powerless, it being apparently so proveable against her that she had a husband in undiminished existence. She had him, it was true, only in America, only in Texas, in Nebraska, in Arizona or somewhere--somewhere that scarcely figured as a definite place at all; it showed somehow from afar as so lost, so indistinct and illusory, in the great alkali desert of cheap divorce.
But the man of age, if he plays his assigned role properly, must see life as a comedy. For his triumphs and his failures merge, and one is no more the occasion for pride or shame than the other; and he is neither the hero who proves himself against those forces, not the protagonist who is destroyed by them. Like any poor, pitiable shell of an actor, he comes to see that he has played so many parts that there no longer is himself.
Rogues can make up a quarrel after blows have been given and received, but lovers will part forever because of a look or a word. The secret of many an inexplicable separation is to be found in some memory of an all but perfect understanding that once existed. We can come to terms with a certain mistrust, so long as the past presents no picture of a pure and unclouded affection; but two beings who have once known a perfect understanding can never endure a relationship in which every look and every word must be carefully watched.
The heating system was a farce, depending as it did on registers in the floor wherefrom the tepid exhalations of a throbbing and groaning basement furnace were transmitted with the faintness of a moribund’s last breath. By occluding the apertures upstairs I attempted to give more energy to the register in the living room but its climate proved to be incurably vitiated by there being nothing between it and the arctic regions save a sleezy front door without a vestige of vestibule—either because the house had been built in midsummer by a naďve settler who could not imagine the kind of winter New Wye had in store for him, or because oldtime gentility required that a chance caller at the open door could satisfy himself from the threshold that nothing unseemly was going on in the parlor.