Added Intro.txt

Author: prabhavad

Slide/Advanced Linux.html

@@ -131,7 +131,7 @@ <h2>I/O Redirection</h2>
 						<h4>Pipe</h4>
 						<p>Symbol used to provide output of one command as input to another command</p>
 
-						<h4>&lt;</h4>
+						<h4>&gt;</h4>
 						<p>Used to direct the output to a file.</p>
 						<h4>&gt;&gt;</h4>
 						<p> Used to append the output to a file</p>

Slide/Intro.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,51 @@
+I am writing a history of the things men do. I have written three such histories
+and I am but a young man. Already I have written three hundred, four hundred thousand words.
+My wife is somewhere in this house where for hours now I have been sitting and writing.
+She is a tall woman with black hair, turning a little grey. Listen, she is going
+softly up a flight of stairs. All day she goes softly about, doing the housework in our house.
+I came here to this town from another town in the state of Iowa. My father was a
+workman, a house painter. He did not rise in the world as I have done. I worked
+my way through college and became an historian. We own this house in which I sit.
+This is my room in which I work. Already I have written three histories of peoples.
+I have told how states were formed and battles fought. You may see my books standing
+straight up on the shelves of libraries. They stand up like sentries. I am tall like
+my wife and my shoulders are a little stooped. Although I write boldly I am a shy man.
+I like being at work alone in this room with the door closed. There are many books here.
+Nations march back and forth in the books. It is quiet here but in the books a great
+thundering goes on.
+
+My wife has a serious, almost stern look. Sometimes the thoughts I have concerning
+her frighten me. In the afternoon she leaves our house and goes for a walk. Sometimes
+she goes to stores, sometimes to visit a neighbor. There is a yellow house opposite
+our house. My wife goes out at a side door and passes along the street between our
+house and the yellow house. The side door of our house bangs. There is a moment of
+waiting. My wife's face floats across the yellow background of a picture.
+
+Little things are growing big in my mind. The window before my desk makes a little
+framed place like a picture. Every day I sit staring. I wait with an odd sensation
+of something impending. My hand trembles. The face that floats through the picture
+does something I don't understand. The face floats, then it stops. It goes from the
+right hand side to the left hand side, then it stops. The face comes into my mind
+and goes out--the face floats in my mind. The pen has fallen from my fingers. The
+house is silent. The eyes of the floating face are turned away from me. My wife is a
+girl who came here to this town from another town in the state of Ohio. We keep a
+servant but my wife often sweeps the floors and she sometimes makes the bed in
+which we sleep together. We sit together in the evening but I do not know her.
+I cannot shake myself out of myself. I wear a brown coat and I cannot come out of
+my coat. I cannot come out of myself. My wife is very gentle and she speaks softly
+but she cannot come out of herself. My wife has gone out of the house. She does
+not know that I know every little thought of her life. I know what she thought when
+she was a child and walked in the streets of an Ohio town. I have heard the voices of
+her mind. I have heard the little voices. I heard the voice of fear crying when she
+was first overtaken with passion and crawled into my arms. Again I heard the voices
+of fear when her lips said words of courage to me as we sat together on the first
+evening after we were married and moved into this house. It would be strange if I
+could sit here, as I am doing now, while my own face floated across the picture
+made by the yellow house and the window. It would be strange and beautiful if I
+could meet my wife, come into her presence. The woman whose face floated across
+my picture just now knows nothing of me. I know nothing of her. She has gone off,
+along a street. The voices of her mind are talking. I am here in this room, as
+alone as ever any man God made. It would be strange and beautiful if I could float
+my face across my picture. If my floating face could come into her presence, if
+it could come into the presence of any man or any woman--that would be a strange
+and beautiful thing to have happen.