EDERA ABOGADOS se adhiere y suscribe íntegramente la Declaración institucional de la Junta de Gobierno del Ilustre Colegio de la Abogacía de Madrid.
Sigamos defendiendo nuestro Estado de Derecho y nuestra Constitución.
https://t.co/O6s8NuJcW1
Ojalá la ideología que ahora afirma que Maricarmen ha sido asesinada hubiera dicho lo mismo de los miles de personas que, durante siete años, murieron sin las ayudas públicas necesarias para sus cuidados enfermeros, abandonadas por el Estado del bienestar.
Para ciertos partidos —incluidos algunos que han gobernado en estos ocho años— los desahucios equivalen a terrorismo criminal, mientras que la #LeyELA merece un silencio absoluto porque odian el derecho a la vida.
Sois peor que una mi3rda pinchada en un palo.
Debemos ser mucho más conscientes de la GRAVEDAD de este asunto y difundirlo mucho más.
Mucho ánimo y mucha suerte a la Jueza Beatriz Biedma.
#GobiernoPSOEMafia
Aplauso, medalla y beso para @DanaErlich, Embajadora de Israel en España, quien en el acto por el tercer aniversario del 7 de octubre en Madrid dijo las cosas sin pelos en la lengua:
"Estoy enfadada con el mundo que me abandonó como mujer, como judía, como israelí.
¿Dónde está la ONU para hablar de nuestros derechos humanos?
¿Dónde están organizaciones como UNICEF para hablar de Kfir y Ariel Bibas?
¿Dónde están las organizaciones supuestamente feministas para hablar de la violencia sexual contra mujeres?"
¡ANIMO MAGISTRADA!!! Cuando la mafia se infiltra en el Estado, retrocedemos a la ley de la selva. Menos mal que contamos con valientes como la magistrada Biedma. ¡No está sola, señoría!!!
https://t.co/04uabuclhQ
Late one evening in 2003, Emma Thompson sat alone in her London flat, surrounded by the wreckage of a very public divorce
The press had been relentless. Her marriage to Kenneth Branagh had ended amid scandal, and the woman who'd won an Oscar for bringing Jane Austen's words to life couldn't find any of her own.
Then came a knock at the door.
Alan Rickman stood there holding a bottle of wine and nothing else—no advice, no pity, no expectations. He walked in, sat down, and stayed through the night. He didn't ask her to explain. He didn't tell her it would be okay. He just sat with her in the darkness, offering the rarest gift one human can give another: silent, judgment-free presence.
"You saved me without trying," Thompson later wrote to him. "And that's the kind of love I trust most."
Their friendship had begun years earlier during a 1980s stage production, when Thompson met a man whose fierce gaze and commanding silence intimidated most people. But she saw past the intensity to something tender underneath. "I recognized a fellow creature," she said, "one who felt deeply but rarely said as much."
By the time they filmed "Sense and Sensibility" in 1995, their bond had deepened into something rare in Hollywood—a friendship built on creative trust and emotional safety. While Thompson juggled the impossible pressure of starring in and adapting a beloved classic, Rickman quietly anchored her. "Alan had a way of being in the room that made you feel you belonged there too," she remembered.
What made their connection extraordinary wasn't grand gestures or public declarations. It was the accumulation of small, sacred moments. The long conversations about betrayal and forgiveness during "Love Actually." The way he never demanded she be strong when she was breaking. The trust that allowed complete vulnerability without fear.
Then, years later, Rickman fell ill. For a long time, he told almost no one about his cancer diagnosis. But Thompson knew. She noticed how he tired more easily, how his already quiet nature turned more introspective. One afternoon during a charity film shoot, he finally told her.
They stood in silence for several moments.
"Alright," she said simply. "Then we walk through this together."
In those final years, Rickman opened up in ways he never had before—sharing memories, regrets, and hopes with the one person he trusted completely. Thompson told him she had loved him from the beginning, though they'd never crossed the lines of friendship.
He laughed. "You would've ruined me."
"No, Alan," she replied. "I would've healed you."
When Rickman died in 2016, Thompson released a letter calling him "the truest of friends." Their bond had never been about celebrity or performance. It had been real, raw, and sacred—a story written in glances, in trust, in the knowledge that some people don't come into your life to dazzle you, but to hold a steady light.
Thompson keeps one of his handwritten notes tucked in her wallet: "Always speak the truth. It costs less."
And she still visits their favorite café, orders two teas, and talks to him like he's still listening—because the truest friendships never really end.
They just change form, becoming something even more permanent: memory transformed into grace, loss transformed into gratitude, and silence transformed into the loudest kind of love.
Lo que debe de estar pasando esta mujer leyendo las noticias y lo que se aporta a la instrucción solo lo sabe ella y su familia.
Por si me lees: te mando un abrazo enorme, mi solidaridad y total disponibilidad a echarnos unos vinos y reírnos de lo perra que es la vida 🫂💪🏽🍷
Recordemos 8 años de Pedro Sánchez:
-Caso Koldo, Ábalos, Cerdán y Tito Berni.
-Zapatero
-Caso Leire Díez
-Caso Begoña Gómez y David Sánchez
-Condena del fiscal general
-Ley del “solo sí es sí”.
-Indultos y amnistía
-Invasión de Ceuta
-Deuda pública de 1,7 billones de euros
Por Dios os lo pido @NunezFeijoo@EsterMunoz85 no mencionéis a @vox_es en vuestra campaña. No es hora de dividir ni restar. Es hora de sumar juntos.
Y pido a @vox_es que haga lo mismo con el @ppopular.
Somos diferentes, pero somos los únicos que podemos reconstruir España.
Gente que mandáis en el PP y en VOX, dos puntos. Hay que demoler. Tirar de Bulldozer y demoler. Y después fumigar hasta el último rincón. Y llevar a la cárcel a quienes se han cargado el país que levantaron nuestros padres. Todo lo que no sea eso, os hará cómplices del desastre.
Se reían de quienes siempre apostamos a que no llegaría a 2027, que votaríamos en 2026. Cuestión de olfato, no de lógica. Había señales: sus vacaciones en La Mareta, su último intento a Andorra, la beligerancia. El final será una dura campaña. Preparaos porque Sánchez está herido