Breeze strolled over to the table and chose a seat with his characteristic decorum. The portly man raised his dueling cane, pointing it at Ham. 'I see that my period of intellectual respite has come to an end.'Ham smiled. 'I thought up a couple beastly questions while I was gone, and I've been saving them just for you, Breeze.''I'm dying of anticipation,' Breeze said. He turned his cane toward Lestibournes. 'Spook, drink.'Spook rushed over and fetched Breeze a cup of wine.'He's such a fine lad,' Breeze noted, accepting the drink. 'I barely even have to nudge him Allomantically. If only the rest of you ruffians were so accommodating.'Spook frowned. 'Niceing the not on the playing without.''I have no idea what you just said, child,' Breeze said. 'So I'm simply going to pretend it was coherent, then move on.'Kelsier rolled his eyes. 'Losing the stress on the nip,' he said. 'Notting without the needing of care.''Riding the rile of the rids to the right,' Spook said with a nod.'What are you two babbling about?' Breeze said testily.'Wasing the was of brightness,' Spook said. 'Nip the having of wishing of this.''Ever wasing the doing of this,' Kelsier agreed.'Ever wasing the wish of having the have,' Ham added with a smile. 'Brighting the wish of wasing the not.'Breeze turned to Dockson with exasperation. 'I believe our companions have finally lost their minds, dear friend.'Dockson shrugged. Then, with a perfectly straight face, he said, 'Wasing not of wasing is.
Discipline allows magic. To be a writer is to be the very best of assassins. You do not sit down and write every day to force the Muse to show up. You get into the habit of writing every day so that when she shows up, you have the maximum chance of catching her, bashing her on the head, and squeezing every last drop out of that bitch.
I can't forget things, or ignore them-bad things that happen," I said. "I'm a lay-it-all-out person, a dwell-on-it person, an obsess-about-it person. If I hold things in and try to forget or pretend, I become a madman and have panic attacks. I have to talk.
Corrival looked around. 'So is this it? Is everyone here? Erskine, maybe you should start the ball rolling. I have places to go and things to do.''Me?' Ravel asked. 'Why do I have to start it? You're the most respected mage here. You start it, or Skulduggery.'Skulduggery shook his head. 'I can't start it. I don't like most of these people. I might start shooting.
The joke was that President Bush only declared war when Starbucks was hit. You can mess with the U.N. all you want, but when you start interfering with the right to get caffeinated, someone has to pay.
How initially 'to get her in the sack' and subsequently to avoid 'her giving you the sack' are not identical dilemmas faced by the male species, but they sure have a bizarre habit of being bedfellows
To some believers, being on the pill or using a condom is a nonverbal way of telling God to go to hell.
It goes without saying that even those of us who are going to hell will get eternal life—if that territory really exists outside religious books and the minds of believers, that is. Having said that, given the choice, instead of being grilled until hell freezes over, the average sane human being would, needless to say, rather spend forever idling in an extremely fertile garden, next to a lamb or a chicken or a parrot, which they do not secretly want to eat, and a lion or a tiger or a crocodile, which does not secretly want to eat them.
Among other possibilities, money was invented to make it possible for a foolish man to control wise men; a weak man, strong men; a child, old men; an ignorant man, knowledgeable men; and for a dwarf to control giants.
Being rich or famous is the only profound thing that some people have ever said.
For a sane person to sincerely be happy that someone has succeeded, they have to either be profiting or likely to profit from that person’s success, or be that person.
Self-observation is simply the observation of an internal state and an external event. It is pure awareness, which gives one the ability to choose one's actions. Only by having the choice can one perform what is right.
LIFE - Death's Very Emissary
Everybody needs to be good-natured with a good heart, because in this way we can solve our own problems as well as those of others, and we can make our human life meaningful.
We do not recognize that we are addicted to some negative psychological habit, some terribly self-destructive patterns of thinking...
We are living a fantasy life in our heads, and our real life is passing by, moment by moment.Life is only lived in moments: anything else is a fantasy, a lie, an illusion.
Karma is a balance sheet of life which debits and credit all your deeds.YourWhich is audited by our creator and actions are based on what we accumulated in it.
Karma is the balance sheet of life which debits and credit all your deeds.YourWhich is audited by our creator and actions are based on what we accumulated in it.
We create karma by all kinds of selfish actions.The first thing we must understand is that we are psychologically asleep.It is very difficult for us to be conscious of ourselves. We are not very aware. We must come to recognize that we do not pay attention.
Desires and Karma are the worst enemies living in the same soul together. It depends on us whom we choose and feed.
Love wins when reflections win over reflexes.
In the end, you will realize most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Every person has his secret; in reverie, unbeknown to others, he finds peace, freedom, sorrow and love.
I'm infatuated with you, I cannot deny it. Physically speaking, you're a very attractive man. But I don't like you, the vast majority of the time. So far as I can gather, you behave abominably in public and are only marginally better in private. I only find you remotely tolerable when you're kissing me.
Listen. Just because we got a mutual hankering, doesn't mean we have to act on it. Aside from the hankering, there isn't much about you that I like. So far, you've been a pain in the behind. And I might as well tell you, I've followed through on one hankering and getting shot was more of an enjoyable experience. I didn't like it.
Not a few millions of parents strongly hope that their own children will step in by instantly becoming their own parents’ foster parents, if and when the parents reach their second childhood.
But unless we determine to take action,' said the old man querulously, as if struggling against something deeply insouciant in his nature, 'then we shall all be destroyed, we shall all die. Surely we care about that?' 'Not enough to want to get killed over it,' said Ford.
Graham Chapman, co-author of the "Parrot Sketch", is no more. He has ceased to be. Bereft of life, he rests in peace. He's kicked the bucket, hopped the twig, bit the dust, snuffed it, breathed his last, and gone to meet the great Head of Light Entertainment in the sky. And I guess that we're all thinking how sad it is that a man of such talent, of such capability for kindness, of such unusual intelligence, should now so suddenly be spirited away at the age of only forty-eight, before he'd achieved many of the things of which he was capable, and before he'd had enough fun. Well, I feel that I should say: nonsense. Good riddance to him, the freeloading bastard, I hope he fries. And the reason I feel I should say this is he would never forgive me if I didn't, if I threw away this glorious opportunity to shock you all on his behalf. Anything for him but mindless good taste. (He paused, then claimed that Chapman had whipered in his ear while he was writing the speech):All right, Cleese. You say you're very proud of being the very first person ever to say 'shit' on British television. If this service is really for me, just for starters, I want you to become the first person ever at a British memorial service to say 'fuck'.
Many obese people spend a significant amount of their energy on suppressing the urge to tell some of the people who are staring at them that they do not eat as much and as frequently as they seem to.
He had had a severe shock some weeks earlier, when, having narrowly failed to capture a large grey-brown hare for his dinner, it had stopped at the edge of the forest, looked at him with disdain, and said, 'Well, I hope you're proud of yourself, that's all,' and had scampered off into the long grass
Most sane human beings who are over the age of six usually act or react not as per what they genuinely feel or really think but in accordance with the expectations of those around them.
The most upsetting thing about Society’s attitude towards disabled people is that many millions of disabled people became disabled while trying to please Society, the very same bitch that secretly regards them as subhuman.
Some of us were brought into this troubled world primarily or only to increase our fathers’ chances of not being left by our mothers, or vice versa.
Patriotism is the narcissism of countries.
Greed is a contagious mental illness without which civilization as we know it would not have been possible.
Many a survivor of a plane crash who is or was against cannibalism and had never eaten human flesh once found themselves in a situation where they had to either eat human flesh, or go the way of all flesh.
Many if not most slaves would have each readily jumped, and many if not most slaves would each readily jump, at the opportunity to be a master, if such an opportunity presents or had presented itself.
Just like how most if not all poor boys look up to and aspire to someday be rich men, most if not all underdeveloped and developing countries look up to and aspire to someday be developed countries.
To ask a man whether or not he has a girlfriend is to talk about his sex life. If you disagree with that, then how in the name of God do you differentiate between a man’s girlfriend and a girl that is a friend to the man?
The last time everyone loved or at least liked everyone was when the world had a population of about 4.
As we all know, as if forever exploiting or attempting to exploit each other were not enough, a group of sane human beings who have just reached the end of a war against a common enemy of theirs will sooner or later start or continue killing and/or fighting against each other.
In reality most human beings are not, to most human beings, more important than money.
For their never-ending endeavours to obtain or retain wealth, countries desperately need companies, because they—unlike most human beings—have the means of production, and human beings, because they—unlike all companies—have the means of reproduction.
Most sane human beings who have managed to attain and retain fame each uses it to dramatically increase their name’s chances of being remembered until Jesus comes back, since their heart cannot do what they consciously or unconsciously lust for, that is to say, for it to beat until Jesus returns.
The average adult has had sex innumerable times more than they have formed an opinion of their own.
Although they probably know that some children were used and some children are used as miners, most adults are ignorant of the chocolate industry’s use of minors.
There is nothing morally wrong with buying stolen goods, unless you know that they were stolen.
Millions of business people are each constantly forced to choose between their desire to not be a bad person and their desire to be a good business person, that is to say, to make as much money as they possibly can by maximizing their revenue while minimizing the cost of producing whatever it is that they sell.
We, in the interest of the so-called progress, have been persuaded to leave the production and at times the cooking of our food to companies whose owners and employees make a living by exploiting our busyness or laziness and our innate hunger to continue living.
Many millions of pregnancies—many if not most of which have each led to the birth of at least one child—were each used as nothing but a conspicuous means to a secret end called the evasion of abortion.
The world economy would collapse if a significant number of people were to realize and then act on the realization that it is possible to enjoy many if not most of the things that they enjoy without first having to own them.
Many a parent, sad to say, has used their child as an opportunity for them, the parent, to do, through their child, something or some of the things that they, the parent, did not do or did not do successfully.
When selecting a one-night stand, a heterosexual woman who is materialistic is a trillion times more likely to choose a sexually unattractive poor man who seems rich over a sexually attractive rich man who seems poor.
Loneliness tortures many if not most of the elderly more intensely and more frequently than it torments many if not most of us who will never be or have not yet been pushed or pulled into old age.
As an unavoidable result of the inevitable loss of some physical and/or some mental abilities, many a man who has been alive for many years has become a boy again.
Millions of sane people would each be sexually attracted to their own parent or child if they were not related to them.
Life is a process during which one initially gets less and less dependent, independent, and then more and more dependent.
Some people avoid thinking deeply in public, only because they are afraid of coming across as suicidal.
Some people hate people who are overconfident, only because their overconfidence reminds them of their underconfidence.
A premature death does not only rob one of the countless instances where one would have experienced pleasure, it also saves one from the innumerable instances where one would have experienced pain.
If we were not impressed by job titles, suits, and jargon, we would demand that financial advisors show us their personal bank statements before they tell us what we could or should do with our own money.
Boredom is probably more frequent and more tormenting if you do not have sight or hands.
In some cases, you can tell how somebody is being treated by their own boss from the way they are treating someone to whom they are a boss.
Some people are each holding on to a lover of theirs who no longer loves them and/or who they no longer love, only because they do not want to have a reason or another reason to be jealous of the person who would eventually be their lover if they let go of them.
Most men would no longer enjoy conversing with most women if they stopped bringing their vaginas along.
A relationship is likely to last way longer, if each partner convinces or has convinced themselves that they do not deserve their partner, even if that is not true.
More often than not, an inspirational or motivational speaker is someone who makes money from telling us that we can do all of the things that we can do … and pretty much all of the things that we cannot do.
Adults who use big words in order to seem intelligent are annoying, especially those who are not intelligent.
Most of us cling to life as if our existence were a result of our deed or choice.
Bigheadedness is usually a symptom of small-mindedness.
Some people will hate you for not loving them.
We are way less likely to love someone just because they love us than we are to hate someone just because they hate us.
The fact that the person who you are sleeping with is also sleeping with another person or other people does not necessarily mean that he or she does not love you. And the fact that you are the only person who someone is sleeping with does not necessarily mean that he or she loves you.
A seemingly simple task like taking a bath or wearing a condom feels like multitasking to someone who suffers from hemiplegia or has only one hand.
Most human beings strongly believe that money is way less important than the life of a human being, but in reality five hundred, fifty, or even five dollars are way more important to the lives of most human beings than the lives of most human beings.
Most human beings would have never been pained by the death of a human being if they had never seen a human being or pretending to be pained by that.
More often than not, expecting to lose weight without first losing the diet that made the weight loss necessary is like expecting a pig to be spotless after hosing it down while it was still rolling in mud.
It is usually unbearably painful to read a book by an author who knows way less than you do, unless the book is a novel.
You are more likely to find three TVs inside a randomly selected house than you are to find a single book that is or was not read to pass an exam, to please God, or to be a better cook.
Memories of the past are what drive us, whether to a life of beauty or a life of insanity is up to us.
In the end all the puzzles of your life will be solved ,until then... laugh at the scepticism, live for the moment and remember everything happens for a reason.
Strong people don't put others down. They lift them up and slam them on the ground for maximum damage.
Every interaction is an opportunity to learn, Only if we are interested in improving rather than proving.
Life is a university, you will keep learning new things all the time. The tombstone will be your degree.Make sure it's worth a fortune for those who admire you.
Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, So ... Love the people who treat you right and pray for the ones who don't. Life is 10% what you make it 90% how you take it.
Life is about the moments you create, that you can keep it with you FOREVER. After everything is over,That is what we have or what we are left with.
A person with good heart is always happy. However its a myth because most of the time his heart is full of wounds as it except only good thing from others still he love the people who treat it right & pray for the ones who don't
Life is about the moments you create,that you can keep with you forever.After everything is over,That is what we have or what we are left with.
Love is what makes two people sit in the middle of a bench when there is plenty of room at both ends. Love means nothing in tennis,But it's everything in life
If someone talks bad about us, we feel bad. If someone talks good about us we feel good. The question is ,Have we given our remote to others for the way we feel?Live your life in your way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For a happy life,it's best we should ignore &overlook things,people,incidents,affairs & matters.It is not necessary that we show a reaction to everything. Step back & ask yourself if the matter is really worth responding to.
If we try to see something positive in everything we do, life won't necessarily become easier but it becomes more valuable.
A lot of pain that we are dealing with are really only THOUGHTS.
The most important subject in the curriculum in the future years will be how to love ourselves and be content.
Literacy rate tells us about the section of society who can read and write, but do we have a tool which can share the stats about out how many educated illiterates we have in our society.
Tenderhearted people are silent sufferers they just learn the art to fly with broken wings.
There's a story behind every "I don't believe in love""Period
Its not your fault for not being there.Its my fault for thinking you would be
We live in a society where every business has a huge scope. Even if you open a shop selling snakes people will buy it. Thinking they will direct them to their neighbors house.
Tanith frowned. Did people still go on DATES any more? She was sure they did. They probably called it something different though. She tried to think of the last date she'd been on. The last PROPER date. Did fighting side by side with Saracen Rue count as a date? They ended up snuggling under the moonlight, drenched in gore and pieces of brain - so it had PROBABLY been a date. If it wasn't, it was certainly a fun time had by all. Well, not ALL. But she and Saracen had sure had a blast.
Create your own path.Don't blindly follow the massess... because most of the time the "M" is silent.
Your friends can be double-edged knife thy can either nurture you or destroy you. Choose them Wisely......
Growing older doesn't mean that you are more mature than everyone who is younger than you. Maturity is a lot of things, and age has nothing to do with it.
A smile is the best way to get oneself out of a tight spot, even if it is a fake one. Surprisingly enough, everyone takes it at face value. I read that in a book.""If you keep staring at me, I'll hit you.""I only became part of your team recently when I replaced Sasuke, so I don't know everything that's going on. I don't really understand people either. But even I can tell that Naruto really loves you. Naruto's been shouldering that promise for a long time...I think he means to shoulder it for the rest of his life. I don't know what you said to him, but it's just like what's been done to me - it feels like a curse. Sasuke causes Naruto pain, but I think you do too.""Sasuke is only helping spread his darkness across the world. Letting him live will only sow the seeds of another war. He's just another criminal now. Sasuke lost all hope of coming back when his group, Akatsuki, attacked our village. Your fellow Konoha shinobi would never accept him now. Sakura's not stupid, either. She understands the position he's put us all in. That's why she came out here, to tell you herself.
Valkyrie walked to the back door, which hadn't been closed properly, shut it and locked it. There was now a baby in the house, after all. She couldn't take the chance that a wild animal might wander in and make off with Alice, like those dingoes in Australia. She was probably being unfair to both dingoes and Australia, but she couldn't risk it. Locked doors kept the dingoes out, and that's all there was to it, even if she didn't know what a dingo actually was. She took out her phone, searched the Internet, found a picture of a baby dingo and now she really wanted a baby dingo for a pet.
Sam's phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket, checked the screen, and cursed. "I have to go.""You just got here.""Valkyrie business. Possible code three-eight-one: heroic death in progress.""You're making that up.""I'm not.""So...what, somebody thinks they're about to die and they text you 'Going down! Need Valkyrie ASAP!' followed by a bunch of sad-face emojis?
Austin and I proceeded to knock back a couple of Ketel One and grapefruit juices, which happened to be my drink of the moment. Someone told me that grapefruit was a great detoxifier and I decided I wanted to start cleaning out my liver WHILE I was having a cocktail.
While looking at a website for liposuction, I learned that it was a six-to eight-week recovery period, the clincher being that, during that time, I would under no circumstances be able to use street drugs. Obviously I had to think of a more realistic approach.
I don't appreciate people who celebrate their dog's birthdays with "dog parties," and then invite their friends who don't even have dogs. I understand why people like dogs, and I think they definitely bring more to the table than cats or those godforsaken ferrets, but I don't think it's healthy for people to treat their dogs like they are real people.
Looking but not seeing is the hearing but not understanding of the eye.
Attacking a provincial lord in his manor house, surrounded by guards...Honestly, Kell, I'd nearly forgotten how foolhardy you can be."Foolhardy?" Kelsier asked with a laugh. "that wasn't foolhardy - that was just a small diversion. You should see some of the things I'm planning to do!Dockson stood for a moment then he laughed too. "By the Lord Ruler, it's good to have you back, kell! I'm afraid I've grown rather boring during the last few years""We'll fix that" Kelsier promised.
There were, however, a few exceptions.One was Norma Dodsworth, the poet, who had not unpleasantly drunk but had been sensible enough to pass out before any violent action proved necessary. He had been deposited, not very gently, on the lawn, where it was hoped that a hyena would give him a rude awakening. For all practical purposes he could, therefore, be regarded as absent.
It is still cheating, even if nobody comes.
Stella explained that when he had arrived, because of his English accent, she had assumed that he was me, and had asked where his fridge was. She didn't tell me what his reply was, and we can only hazard a guess, but I was impressed that he had been prepared to stay the night. It is surely a brave man who goes ahead and checks into an establishment where the first question is 'Where's your fridge?'. Especially if, as he had done, you had arrived by motorcycle.
A professional headshot in front of a bookshelf says you're an intellectual. A professional headshot peeking though a bookshelf says you're probably under a restraining order.
I picked up one of the books and flipped through it. Don't get me wrong, I like reading. But some books should come with warning labels: Caution: contains characters and plots guaranteed to induce sleepiness. Do not attempt to operate heavy machinery after ingesting more than one chapter. Has been known to cause blindness, seizures and a terminal loathing of literature. Should only be taken under the supervision of a highly trained English teacher. Preferably one who grades on the curve.
Most people do not mind having a house that is smaller and/or a car that is cheaper than their neighbours’, as long as they each earn and have more money than their neighbours, and, equally important, their neighbours know that.
We have glorified wealth and freedom so much that it is impossible for most of us to truly believe that a man can truly be happy in a shack or within the confines of a prison cell.
Even those who want to go to heaven would rather kill than be killed.
We love being mentally strong, but we hate situations that allow us to put our mental strength to good use.
Gideon laughed. "I like to be direct.""Okay," I said. "But I warn you, I like to be evasive, inserutable and generally send mixed messages." "I doubt it.""Human interaction is not my strong point," I told him. "Not seriously.""Seriously," I said. Thinking: There is so much about me he doesn't know. Gideon put his hand on my leg. "What's your strong point, then?""Goats," I told him. "I am excellent with goats.
It commenced raining one day and did not stop for two months. We went through ever different kind of rain they is, cep'n maybe sleet or hail. It was little tiny stinging rain sometimes, an big ole fat rain at others. It came sidewise an straight down an sometimes even seem to stand up from the ground. Nevertheless, we was expected to do our shit, which was mainly walking upland down the hills an stuff looking for gooks.
Well?" said Loki. "What about you, Heimdall? Do you have any suggestions?""I do," said Heimdall. "But you won't like it."Thor banged his fist down upon the table. "It does not matter whether or not we like it," he said. "We are gods! There is nothing that any of us gathered here would not do to get back Mjollnir, the hammer of the gods. Tell us your idea, and if it is a good idea, we will like it.""You won't like it," said Heimdall."We will like it!" said Thor."Well," said Heimdall, "I think we should dress Thor as a bride. Have him put on the necklace of the Brisings. Have him wear a bridal crown. Stuff his dress so he looks like a woman. Veil his face. We'll have him wear keys that jingle, as women do, drape him with jewels -""I don't like it!" said Thor. "People will think... well, for a start they'll think I dress up in women's clothes. Absolutely out of the question. I don't like it. I am definitely not going to be wearing a bridal veil. None of us like this idea, do we? Terrible, terrible idea. I've got a beard. I can't shave off my beard.""Shut up, Thor," said Loki son of Laufey. "It's an excellent idea.
The average adult hates being treated like a child, unless it suits them.
We would not be ashamed of doing some of the things we do in private, if the number of sane human beings who do them in public were large enough.
There would definitely be way fewer instances of cheating, if the average couple did not have sex only when the woman feels like it.
Some men would not still be HIV negative or alive, if they had managed to sleep with some of the women with whom they want or wanted to have sex.
Death would not surprise us as often as it does, if we let go of the misbelief that newborns are less mortal than the elderly.
Because he has finally realized that it is it and not him that is loved by the woman he loves, many a man is jealous of his own car, house, wardrobe, or salary.
Attending a funeral would leave the average person insane, if they truly believed that sooner or later they are also going to die.
Every single person is a fool, insane, a failure, or a bad person to at least ten people.
We are sometimes dragged into a pit of unhappiness by someone else’s opinion that we do not look happy.
Nothing is as irritating to a shy man as a confident girl.
Even the world’s greatest actor cannot fake an erection.
Whenever they are condemning weaves or breast implants, some people speak so passionately that their false teeth almost fall out.
Marketing is so powerful that it can make even an extremely untalented musician a one-hundred-hits wonder.
Some women have kissed—and some are kissing—a lot of frogs, even though the very first man that they have each kissed was and is still a prince.
Whenever He answers prayers, God usually prioritizes those by people who, instead of their mouths, have prayed with their hands and/or feet.
Most priests wish they were as righteous as they seem to most members of their congregations.
There probably was a time when the idea of having a toilet inside a house was repulsive.
There would be fewer absent fathers, if straight men were turned on only by women with whom they would not mind having children.
An arrogant man whose arrogance we see from his own behaviour is more tolerable than a humble man whose humility we hear of from his own mouth.
Some people ate less food less often when they each had a home than they now do as hobos.
We the living are to blame for the painfulness of being dead.
Finding out that you are not your lover’s only lover hurts, but not as much as discovering that you are the side chick … or the side dick.
We sometimes try to impress people we just met by not trying to impress them.
Being bigheaded can be as irritating and as dangerous as being small-minded.
Most people who are would each not be in love with their partner, if they did not have the kind of genitals they have.
The fact that you have just buried your parent or parents and/or sibling or siblings does not make you less likely to die today.
The only real reason that some relationships and marriages have not yet been ended is because in each case one of the partners has not yet found their ideal partner or someone they love or at least like.
Some people’s self-esteem was secretly improved when they discovered that their then-lovers had killed themselves over them.
Some men’s chests are more buttlike than some women’s butts.
Some people wish they were as happy as or happy like some people think they are.
Some disabled people spend a significant amount of their energy on trying to come across as abled or as not that disabled.
Death would be an extremely bad thing like most of us paint it, if being dead were painful.
Unless it is you, finding out who your lover’s dream lover is is a nightmare.
All I have is me, myself and I and we are all getting really tired of each other.
I suspect he's sweet on Sophie and doesn't like to see her work too hard.'Tessa was glad to hear it. She'd felt awful about her reaction to Sophie's scar, and the thought that Sophie had a male admirer - and a handsome one like that- eased her conscience slightly. 'Perhaps he's in love with Agatha', she said.'I hope not. I intend to marry Agatha myself. She may be a thousand years old, but she makes an incomparable jam tart. Beauty fades, but cooking is eternal.
But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face. The moment one sits down to think, one becomes all nose, or all forehead, or something horrid. Look at the successful men in any of the learned professions. How perfectly hideous they are! Except, of course, in the Church. But then in the Church they don't think.
The only principle which will make you more content, less bitter is to live a life that has "Less excuses, more results. Less distraction, more focus. Less me, more we. Live with "Gratitude" not with "Greytitude
I gave Henry a supscription [sic] to the Book of the Month club that tells you the book you have to read every month to make your individuality stand out. And it really is remarkable, because it makes over 50,000 people read the same book every month.
Stop explaining to others, people will only understand from their level of discernment.
Fear is the most prodigious enemy of our soul
Respect is reverence out of love, Fear is reverence out of hate.Choose Wisely
He left not knowing where he was going, he got there not knowing where he was, and he came back not knowing where he had been. But history books will point out Columbus as the person who made the Americas available for exploitation. I guess I can make the same kind of ridiculous claim.
Does the work get easier once you know what you are doing?""Your lungs grow thick with stone dust and your eyes bleary from the sun and fragments thrown up by the chisel. You pour your lifeblood out into works of stone for Romans who will take your money in taxes to feed soldiers who will nail your people to crosses for wanting to be free. Your back breaks, your bones creak, your wife screeches at you, and your children torment you with open begging mouths, like greedy baby birds in the nest. You go to bed every night so tired and beaten that you pray to the Lord to send the angel of death to take you in your sleep so you don't have to face another morning. It also has its downside.
Sometimes even a "Yes" can be fatal for our Souls
Its all about perception in life, For some One minus One = One & for some its Zero.That's the only difference.
In the end it will be your “Actions” “Convictions” & “Thoughts” which will determine how you shaped your life.
How long you will live in your dreams? The time is now, it's better to go and follow them..
Opportunity comes to everyone it depends on you whether you take it or leave it. Learn to take risks and play hard because at the end you'd be thankful for your struggle.
When you are stressed and challenged by hardships just smile through it as frowning won’t help in changing the situation
We all have this perfect little image of who we want to be, but it is unnecessary. Throw the image away. You're already you just be the best version of yourself.
No matter how much struggle you face in your journey towards success, someday you will look back and realize your struggles changed your life for the better.
Don’t keep those people in your life who are completely negative in approach. Eventually these people will stress you out and be the source of your downfall.
Don't ask creator to guide your footsteps if you're not willing to move your feet.
You won't enjoy it," sighed Crowley. "It's been in the car for more than a fortnight." A heavy bass beat began to thump through the Bentley as they sped past Heathrow. Aziraphale's brow furrowed. "I don't recognize this," he said. "What is it?" "It's Tchaikovsky's 'Another One Bites the Dust'," said Crowley, closing his eyes as they went through Slough. To while away the time as they crossed the sleeping Chilterns, they also listened to William Byrd's "We Are the Champions" and Beethoven's "I Want To Break Free." Neither were as good as Vaughan Williams's "Fat-Bottomed Girls.
Love is the reflection of a broken heart in a shattered mirror...
Smiling is not a choice It’s a Lifestyle Pass it on
To be successful in life , Plan, Implement, Revise, Update, and Build on Change.
Passion + Vision +Skill + Mentoring = Success.
Start wherever you are! Low hanging fruit really tastes as good as the high stuff.
A lie near to truth is always difficult to catch
Pray GOD by HEART, Not by HABIT.
To enjoy a peaceful & Beautiful Life We should open our 'EYE' and Close our 'I
Have and show motivation to do and learn. That's the key for a good career. Everything else is an extrapolation of that.
Theres no competition in DESTINY. Run your own RACE and wish others WELL!!!
The only enemy which stands between the talent you posses and success you achieve is known as "EGO" in our Society
The most important principle for self discovery and to taste success is rather than changing other's attitude changes your own. And always remember same sun which melts the butter also hardens the clay
The only way to be content in life is to make sure your NEED don't become GREED.
No body is a looser either he is a Winner or a Learner
Being Wise & Being Smart are two different things anyone can be smart but those who master the art of knowing what to overlook in this journey called life deserves to be called Wise
The only goal in life is to be happy, genuinely, intensely and consistently , regardless of what it looks like to others.
Find answers in your weakness and surprise in your strength and always remember the golden rule every failure has HOPES
The only principle of Success in Life :"You must be present to win.
It’s all about “Priorities” There's No Such Thing as "Busy
Don’t be afraid of failures it takes courage to try new things & only those who try create History.
Live a life that leaves a memory, nobody can steal.
If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future. If you are at peace, you are living in the present.
The only unreachable dream is the one you don’t reach for.
The thing about our choices is that after we have made them, they turn around and make us.
True Relations never break and relation which breaks were never true
Living your life is a task so difficult it has never been attempted before.
What seems like the right thing to do could also be the hardest thing you have ever done in your life
Always follow your dreams with confidence and conviction, don’t fall for the trap of dream killers
Life is too short to be anything but happy. So kiss slowly. Love deeply. Forgive quickly. Take chances and never have regrets. Forget the past but remember what it taught you.
Time change - Moments don't.
Life is a do-it-yourself project.
THE Biggest enemy of Truth is known as Facts in our Society
A wise man is someone who knows how to convert obstacles into resources.
For all those who say its a Man world. Respect Women Its their World we are just guest here
MISUNDERSTANDING" arises only when you see the things with Closed Eyes
The only difference between success and failure is Lack of Vision
Two powerful factors which creates difference between destroying your relationship and deepening it are EGO and Attitude
TAKE Risk because you never know how absolutely perfect something could turn out to be..
As long as we have MEMORIES, yesterday REMAINS and as long as we have HOPE, tomorrow AWAITS...
YOU have to design your own Price tag for the world.
Only Boiled Seeds are afraid of failure.
No matter what goals you set to accomplish always remember there is a thing known as Life which you should never forget to live and enjoy
Don’t be afraid of failures it takes courage to try new things & only those who try create miracles.
If you are depressed, you are living in the past. If you are anxious, you are living in the future
IF you want to be a winner than follow one simple rule and feed it in your mind. Take each task and work as " Do it yourself project.
Sometimes life is like living in a chamber of Liquid Oxygen. Liquid don't allow you to live and Oxygen don't let you die.
All kidding aside…” I focus back on Pyke, genuine sincerity in my tone.“Thank you…for everything. For dragging my ‘clueless ass’ through the ocean, andover hill and vale, when you knew it was futile and stupid—but that I’d still try to do it, with or without your help. Thanks for tracking me down when I was alone and helpless; and for giving me a voice when I thought all hope was lost—”“Ugh, for crying out loud…Enough already,” Pyke squirms, a nauseatedgrimace twisting his hairy face. “Now you’re going way overboard with thegratitude…That kind of gushy crap is meant to be dished out in small doses,” he gripes. “Please make it stop…before I have to snap my own neck, just to end the suffering.” He backs away into the crowd, giving Tristan’s shoulder one more slap with a sly wink. “Hurry up, Man, and do something. Kiss her, muzzle her…shove a sock in her mouth—
Adventuring turned out to be boring. Zach thought back to all the fantasy books he'd read where a team of questers traveled overland, and realized a few things. First he'd pictured himself with a loyal steed that would have done most of the walking, so he hadn't anticipated the blister forming on his left heel or the tiny pebble that seemed to have worked its way under his sock, so that even when he stripped off his sneaker he couldn't find it.He hadn't thought about how hot the sun would be either. When he put together his bunch of provisions, he never thought about bringing sunblock. Aragorn never wore sunblock. Taran never wore sunblock. Percy never wore sunblock. But despite all that precedent for going without, he was pretty sure his nose would be lobster-red the next time he looked in the mirror.He was thirsty, too, something that happened a lot in books, but his dry throat bothered him more than it had ever seemed to bother any character.And, unlike in books where random brigands and monsters jumped out just when things got unbearably dull, there was nothing to fight except for the clouds of gnats, several of which Zach was pretty sure he'd accidentally swallowed.
He crouched at the care window and looked in. "What a lovely family you have. What a charming family. They're all lovely. Except for that one." His finger jabbed the glass. "That one's a bit ugly."The American stepped towards him. "What? What did you say?""Oh, don't worry. I'm sure his personality makes up for his face.
Of all the things in the world, I'm particularly amazed at, is the conviction with which the MIND, endorses an Idea, which is phenomenal, as it differentiates the Genius from Mediocre, or not to forget the human stupidity in particular!
A question that always makes me hazy is it me or are the others crazy'Albert Einstein
Some people stride toward a better future. Others have chauffeurs.
I wanted to write in Kitchenese, the secret language of cooks, instantly recognizable to anyone who has ever dunked french fries for a summer job or suffered under the despotic rule of a tyrannical chef or boobish owner.
This is the sixty-nine," I told him, presenting the magazine in front of him. I put my fingers -- two of them -- on the action, so that he would not overlook it. "Why is it dubbed sixty-nine?" he asked, because he is a person hot on fire with curiosity. "It was invented in 1969. My friend Gregory knows a friend of the nephew of the inventor." "What did people do before 1969?" "Merely blowjobs and masticating box, but never in chorus.
The tiny space, the toilet, two hundred strangers just a few inches away, it's so exciting, the lack of room to maneuver, it helps if you're double-jointed. Use your imagination. Some creativity and a few simple stretching exercises and you can be knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door. You'll be amazed how time flies.
Nigromanta took him to her room, which was lighted with false candlesticks, to her folding cot with the bedding stained from bad loves, and to her body of a wild dog, hardened and without a soul, which prepared itsself to dismiss him as if he were a frightened child, and suddenly it found a man whose tremendous power demanded a movement of seismic readjustment from her insides.
You'll let me put a total stranger's piss hose in my mouth while my knees scream in agony on the hard floor? Right here in from of everyone? Gosh, such a hard thing to pass up. But you know, I'd rather eat Ebola pudding than let your sad little dick near me." She wiggled her fingers as she slipped past him. "Toodles" Oh, he needed to tap that.
It is a curious fact that small boys are more terrified of their babysitters than small girls are. In part, this is because small girls and babysitters, who are usually slightly larger girls, belong to the same species, and therefore understand each other. Small boys, on the other hand, do not understand girls, and therefore being looked after by one is a little like a hamster being looked after by a shark. If you are a small boy, it may be some consolation to you to know that even large boys do not understand girls, and girls, by and large, do not understand boys. This makes adult life very interesting.
And here is my sweet little Annamaria,’ she added, tenderly caressing a little girl of three years old, who had not made a noise for the last two minutes; ‘And she is always so gentle and quiet—Never was there such a quiet little thing!’ But unfortunately in bestowing these embraces, a pin in her ladyship’s head dress slightly scratching the child’s neck, produced from this pattern of gentleness such violent screams, as could hardly be outdone by any creature professedly noisy. The mother’s consternation was excessive; but it could not surpass the alarm of the Miss Steeles, and every thing was done by all three, in so critical an emergency, which affection could suggest as likely to assuage the agonies of the little sufferer. She was seated in her mother’s lap, covered with kisses, her wound bathed with lavender-water, by one of the Miss Steeles, who was on her knees to attend her, and her mouth stuffed with sugar plums by the other. With such a reward for her tears, the child was too wise to cease crying.
So where does the name Adam's apple come from? Most people say that it is from the notion that this bump was caused by the forbidden fruit getting stuck in the throat of Adam in the Garden of Eden. There is a problem with this theory because some Hebrew scholars believe that the forbidden fruit was the pomegranate. The Koran claims that the forbidden fruit was a banana. So take your pick---Adam's apple, Adam's pomegranate, Adam's banana. Eve clearly chewed before swallowing.
You're the guy who tried to get my cab. I knew I knew you! You scared the bejesus out of me. Come to think of it it was easy to get a cab during rush hour? I am sorry. I had no idea it was your cab. Let me make it up to you. How about a nice hot dog and a beer.Just a hot dog then.Some coffee?Milk?Soda?Tea?LifeSavers?Slurpee?Just let me know. I'm here. I knew I knew ya!
You're the guy who tried to get my cab. I knew I knew you! You scared the bejesus out of me. Come to think of it it was easy to get a cab during rush hour? I am sorry. I had no idea it was your cab. Let me make it up to you. How about a nice hot dog and a beer.Just a hot dog then.Some coffee?Milk?Soda?Tea?LifeSavers?Slurpee?Just let me know. I'm here. knew I knew ya!
Why should I trust you?” Her eyes narrowed. “All I really know about you is that you’re not loyal to your girlfriends, you treat one-night stands like crap, and apparently you’ve made quite a name for yourself not only in the business world, but also in the bedroom since we last met.
I am never one to judge others; I am so eccentric myself that I have no right to cast aspersions. A person may or may not like a thing, and I have little to say other than I love it too or how could you dare not like it please die promptly, but I leave everyone to find their own niches in time. We are all avid about certain things; I happen to rave over many subjects, all of which have a place in the Kingdom of Nerdonia, and whenever I hear someone unjustly disparage a thing I consider sacred, I lay it down that the person is either mistaken or a dunderwhelp, the latter being the likeliest of the two. There is a great difference between knowledge accompanied by bias and ignorance accompanied by gallantry, and while all tastes may be what they are, there are bare necessities that will immediately define a character and relationship, these things usually being how many Monty Python lines one knows and whether or not they know what Iocaine is.The strength of lasting friendships rests on whether one can sing the theme to Neverending Story.
I turned on the television and watched a movie about a girl who’d fallen in love with both a vampire and a werewolf. I’d already seen it a million times, so my eyelids grew heavy, fairly quickly. Ten minutes later I was out cold in my bed and dreaming of Duncan, who turned into a werewolf and was trying to kill my own vampire boyfriend. Every time I tried to see the vampire’s face, however, it was a blur.
I'm hoping you end up happily married to the man of your dreams and have a hoard of beautiful kids that'll keep you on your toes by turning your neighbours into various types of pond-life." He then shot her his signature grin. "But if it happens to be me, then I wouldn't say no."(Karl to Elena in The Witching Pen)
I realized that I was okay with myself. I was quirky and withdrawn and loud, but I liked that. I smiled at strangers without thinking they were going to attack me and drag me into their cars. I went to doctors’ offices and touched magazines that had been touched by sick people.
Thanks,” I muttered and added under my breath, “Douchebag.”He laughed, deep and throaty. “Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”I whipped around. “Don’t ever call me that,” I snapped.“It’s better than calling someone a douchebag, isn’t it?” He pushed out the door. “This has been a stimulating visit. I’ll cherish it for a long time to come.”Okay. That was it. “You know, you’re right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you,” I said, smiling sweetly. “You’re a dickhead.”“A dickhead?” he repeated. “How charming.”I flipped him off.
My dear Reaper," Vlad said, still laughing. 'Did you just check out our-''No!' I interrupted at once, almost lunging toward the staircase. 'I'm tired and still dazed from the Remanats and ... fuck it, I'm taking a shower. I mean, not a cold shower, because I don't need that.' -oh Jesus I was only making this worse- 'because I am cold already, and I need to get hot. I mean, warmer. Oh just shut up!' " -Pg 280
Much slower, I turned around to see Vlad examining his fingernails, as if his hands weren't still ablaze in the flames that had blasted the ghoul's head off moments before.'what the hell was that?' I gasped.'Premature inflammation,' He replied. 'Happens sometimes. Very embarrassing, I don't like to talk about it.'
Bones didn’t share any of my qualms about suddenly holding an arm that wasn’t attached to a body anymore. He just grabbed the ghoul by his other arm and began thumping him over the head with the loose limb. I’d heard Bones threaten to beat someone with their own limb before, but I’d always assumed that was a figure of speech. Apparently not.
She shrugged and flipped her glossy hair behind her shoulders. "What else do you have to do with your time besides think about stuff like this? It's not like you're real heavy into extracurriculars. Besides, you're all, like, goth and into the dead, right?"Alona Dare, queen of the insult-compliment. "Wow. Thanks. Anyone ever tell you you're good with people?"She frowned. "No.""Good. I'm not goth.""Your hair is black, you have piercings, you wear black all the time and act all freaky-""My hair is naturally this color. I have three earings in one ear, that's it. This shirt" -I tugged at the fabric across my chest- "is navy blue, and if I act weird all the time, it's because of ghosts like you.
I doubt you’ve ever been forced to nonstop bang a woman hyped up on the undead voodoo version of Spanish fly, have you?”His chuckle was soft. “Can’t say that I have, Kitten.”“Yeah, well, consider me an original.”This time, when his lips brushed across my skin, it lasted more than a moment.“I always have.
But the three siblings were not born yesterday. Violet was born more than fifteen years before this particular Wednesday, and Klaus was born approximately two years after that, and even Sunny who had just passed out of babyhood, was not born yesterday. Neither were you, unless of course I am wrong, in which case, welcome to the world, little baby, and congratulations on learning to read so early in life.
Looking out of the window at the infinite sky, I prayed out, 'Dear Baby Jesus, I am sorry for my sin, even though I do not know what they are, which seems a bit unfair if it is going to be held against me. But that is your way. And I am not questioning your wisdomosity. In future, however, would it be possible for my life to be not so entirely crap? Thank you.
What did Finnick Odair want?” he asks.I turn and put my lips close to Peeta's and drop my eyelids in imitation of Finnick. “He offered me sugar and wanted to know all my secrets,” I say in my best seductive voice.Peeta laughs. “Ugh. Not really.”“Really,” I say. “I'll tell you more when my skin stops crawling.
It’s alright, Kitten,” Bones said. “He won’t shoot.” Tate lowered his gun, even as the sudden dizziness from blood-loss made me sway. Bones took my gun and casually handed it to Juan, who gapped at him in amazement. “You called her Kitten? And she let you? She put me in a coma for three days when I called her that. My balls never recovered from her smashing them into my spine.” “And well she should have,” Bones agreed. “She’s mine. Kitten, and no one else’s.
Moreover, if great men are the only hope of the Evolutionary Process, they are morally bound to rule over the masses for their own good -- we are all here on earth to help others: what on earth the others are here for, I don't know -- and the masses have no right whatsoever to resist them.
Jane: "Look, Dave Chandler left me on the ninth floor of our university research library without my panties after we lost our virginity together. He never called me again and actually turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction whenever he saw me on campus. Unless you're going to do that, I don't think were gonna have a problem. Gabriel?"Gabriel: "Sorry. Something strange happened inside my head when you said the word "panties". The overwhelming urge to kill Dave Chandler combined with a simultaneous loss of blood to the brain.
I lifted my wand, hoping she would see this as a dramatic move, not a threat. “Why once, in my bunker at Charing Cross Station, I stalked thedeadly prey known as Jelly Babies.”Neith’s eyes widened. “They are dangerous?”“Horrible,” I agreed. “Oh, they seem small alone, but they always appear in great numbers. Sticky, fattening—quite deadly. There I was, alonewith only two quid and a Tube pass, beset by Jelly Babies, when…Ah, but never mind. When the Jelly Babies come for you…you will find out onyour own.”She lowered her bow. “Tell me. I must know how to hunt Jelly Babies.”I looked at Walt gravely. “How many months have I trained you, Walt?”“Seven,” he said. “Almost eight.”“And have I ever deemed you worthy of hunting Jelly Babies with me?”“Uh…no.
With a regrettable sigh he shook his head."I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out.""What the hell are you doing, Trevor?" Hankdemanded anxiously. No doubt the manwouldn't be getting laid tonight, but Trevorcouldn't help it. He had his standards andthis woman failed them."Maybe we could go grab a cup of coffeesomewhere and get to know-"He held up his hand, stopping her before shemade an even bigger fool out of herself."Please stop.""But, I was only-""Don't beg.""I wasn't. I was just-""Begging?" Trevor guessed, sighing. "I know,but you're going to have to accept that thiswould never work out."She frowned up at him. "I wasn't begging. Iwas just going to suggest that we should-""Look," he said, reaching for the door, "thiss just getting sad. I'm just going to go beforethings get out of hand.
In the middle of the night I am awakened by a sound. I sit up abruptly in bed. I hear it again. It's music. Wait, it sounds like the ice cream man, in our house. Is this some kind of twisted nightmare? The flipping ice cream man, breaking in to chop us all up in our beds to the tune of 'Zippity Do Dah'?... My heart slows. I remember. There is no psycho ice cream man here. It is just our new musical soap dispenser...
Here you go, dear."" The corners of Mrs. Colbert's mouth curled up. "You like meat, don't you?"Emily blinked. Was it her, or did that statement seem...loaded? She checked Issac for his reaction, but he was innocently selecting a roll from a wicker basket. "Uh, thanks." Emily said, pulling the platter toward her. She did like meat. The kind you, um, eat.
Even if you haven't had the exclusivity conversation, they're still going to be mad if they find out you're dating someone they know and you haven't mentioned it. It's a dating rule." "Well, how am I supposed to know that rule?" "Everyone knows that rule." "I thought you were supposed to be on my side." "I am on your side!
It wasn’t until someone kicked his legs that Nik woke up. Alek, snoring beside him, his head resting on his shoulder. Ban snoring on the other couch, the noise rivaled only by the dog. He looked into the impossibly cranky face of Zach Sheridan. “Y’all get food?” “We had a full refrigerator before you three got here.” “Where I come from, we don’t let the refrigerator get empty.” “Where you come from, you marry your sister.
And you’re kind of like a snowflake.’Oh, Jesus Christ.He masked his fleeting surprise with a quirked eyebrow. ‘Excuse me?’‘Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘I didn’t say anything.’‘No, no,’ he said, rounding on me so his face was too close, his eyes too searing, his smile too irritating. ‘I’m a snowflake, am I?
I jerk around and see Sister Dora, a portly woman who's the head cook in the kitchen, staring daggers at me. This is nothing new. She stares daggers at everyone who walks through the lunch line holding a tray, as though our needing sustenance is a personal affront.
literally: This word should be deleted. All too often, actions described as “literally” did not happen at all. As in, “He literally jumped out of his skin.” No, he did not. Though if he literally had, I’d suggest raising the element and proposing the piece for page one. Inserting “literally” willy-nilly reinforces the notion that breathless nitwits lurk within this newsroom. Eliminate on sight—the usage, not the nitwits. The nitwits are to be captured
The nursery rhyme ends when a spider comes along and frightens Miss Muffet straight off her tuffet. I have wondered about what kind of lesson this is for a young girl. If you're eating your curds and whey and a spider comes along, I don't think there's anything wrong with picking up a newspaper, smashing it, and going back to your breakfast.
Speaking of tongues, they are the main reason I'm a nervous wreck. Ryan is a senior and well, sadly, I'm not all that experienced with boys. I mean, I'm a freshman and have been to dances with boys my age and even have gone out with boys, but I've never really kissed them. Not like I hope to kiss Ryan anyway. Bobby Robinson did shove his tongue into my mouth one time, when we were kissing under the bleachers at a football game, but it didn't feel so good. I'm pretty sure he didn't have it exactly right. So I talked to my friends, Katie and Lisa, about how to properly make out. But, well, here is just a bit of their unhelpful advice.Just let him take the lead, do what ever he does.Um, couldn't that get me into a lot of trouble?Just sort of kiss his tongue, but try not to drool.Don't open your mouth too wide.And then, just open your mouth wide.See?Stupid, conflicting information.And this from girls who supposedly know how to do this!I feel like I'm an undercover CIA agent trying to wrestle vital information out of a ruthless double agent, and the fate of the free world depends upon it. All the while, the President is yelling at me in a panic, saying, Somebody! Anybody! Just get me the truth!
Once upon a time, there was a little creature that was rather small and rather wicked and it lived all alone in the woods. The little creature lived in a little den, at the bottom of a little ravine, filled with not-at-all little brambles and on the edge of a forest that could only be described as really freakin' huge.
Sergeant Colon owed thirty years of happy marriage to the fact that Mrs. Colon worked all day and Sargent Colon worked all night. They communicated by means of notes. They had three grown-up children, all born, Vimes had assumed, as a result of extremely persuasive handwriting.
Could it be? Samantha Kingston? Home? On a Friday?” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. Did you do a lot of acid in the sixties? Could be a flashback.” “I was two years old in 1960. I came too late for the party.” He leans down and pecks me on the head. I pull away out of habit. “And I’m not even going to ask how you know about acid flashbacks.” “What’s an acid flashback?” Izzy crows. “Nothing,” my dad and I say at the same time, and he smiles at me.
A cupcake temple?' Her chest still tight with anxiety, Bertie forced herself to imagine it: bricks of pound cake mortared with buttercream and chocolate ganache, torches like striped birthday candles set into the walls, pilgrims upon the Path of Delectable Righteousness delivering daily tributes of almond paste and raspberry filling. . . .
She was the only doctor's wife in Branford, Maine, who hung her wash on an outdoor clothesline instead of putting it through a dryer, because she liked to look out the window and see the clothes blowing in the wind. She had been especially delighted, one day, when one sleeve of the top of her husband's pajamas, prodded by the stiff breeze off the bay, reached over and grabbed her nightgown around the waist.
It was as if God himself saw that my intention was to make my outer self match my inner fabulosity and didn't think the world could handle such an explosion of amazingness. So instead of letting me get to the gym where I would have transformed myself into a walking sex god, he created a Dunkin' Donuts out of nothing and then gave them away for free. I didn't make it to the gym. I had a bear claw instead. And a maple bar. And some donut holes. And then some more donut holes.
Elvis!" Min shoved herself off the couch to shoo him away. "Stay away from there. There's broken glass.""He did that on purpose," David said, outraged."Yes, David, the cat is plotting against you." Min fished the base out of the water and glass shards and put it on the table. Then she went to get her wastebasket and began to put the glass pieces in it.
Mister Rob Anybody and sundry others?" said one of the figures in a dreadful voice."There's naebody here o' that name!" shouted Rob Anybody. "We dinna know anythin'!""We have here a list of criminal and civil charges totaling nineteen thousand, seven hundred and sixty-three separate offenses-""We wasna there!" yelled Rob Anybody desperately. "Isn't that right, lads?""-including more than two thousand cases of Making an Affray, Causing a Public Nuisance, Being Found Drunk, Being Found Very Drunk, Using Offensive Language (taking into account ninety-seven cases of Using Language That Was Probably Offensive If Anyone Else Could Understand It), Committing a Breach of the Peace, Malicious Lingering-""It's mistaken identity!" shouted Rob Anybody. "It's no' oour fault! We wuz only standing there an' someone else did it and ran awa'!""-Grand Theft, Petty Theft, Burglary, Housebreaking, Loitering with Intent to Commit a Felony-""We wuz misunderstood when we was wee bairns!" yelled Rob Anybody. "Ye're only picking on us 'cause we're blue! We always get blamed for everythin'! The polis hate us! We wasna even in the country!
[Mrs. Allen was] never satisfied with the day unless she spent the chief of it by the side of Mrs. Thorpe, in what they called conversation, but in which there was scarcely ever any exchange of opinion, and not often any resemblance of subject, for Mrs. Thorpe talked chiefly of her children, and Mrs. Allen of her gowns.
When I left high school with my diploma, it felt like I was holding a key that would unlock the door to a better world. Every teacher I passed on my way down to the parking lot—the ones who suspended me for questioning them both earnestly and in jest, suspended me for using a contumacious hip-shake as my hallway gait, suspended me for me being me—the ones who would roll their eyes if my behavior was, on the whole, unpatriotic, unjustified, and immature—well, on the way down that long black declivity, their faces seemed so contorted as if lurking shadows had vice grips locked on their kidneys, wrenching it every time a teacher didn't want to remain upright and respectful. Yes, they didn’t want to me to succeed either! I pledge allegiance to the flag that united every authority in that indefensible school looked at me, even treated me, as if I was a terrorist, or at the very least, unpatriotic. But God—didn’t the red blood, white skin, and blue balls that flagged my physical existence suffice for me to have a little liberty and justice?
Is this spirited man the cook?" she shouted. "Are you responsible for this delightful feast? What a piece of luck! … What is it you say, Mr. Apples?""Like shittin' with the pope.""No, the other thing, less vulgar.""Whistlin' donkey.""Quite! A surprise and a delight like a whistling … How is it that these phrases make sense when you say them? Anyway, bring him along.
Another Chief remembered that since the Great Father promised them that they would never be moved they had been moved five times. "I think you had better put the Indians on wheels," he said sardonically, "and you can run them about whenever you wish.
If only, I thought, I could talk to Eugene just one more time. This was before I came to understand that you cannot make someone fall in love with you But here's what you can do. By arguing and pleading and screaming and crying and throwing plates and phoning a lot and bringing hot food and sending flowers and buying gifts and doing unsolicited favors and remembering a birthday and being nice and declaring your abiding love and trying hard or sometimes merely by being present, you can make someone who was hitherto lukewarm really detest you.
Do you know why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief God uses it to serve his own Rigteous purposes.""So God uses wicked people as his tools?""God gives us the freedom to to do great evil, if we choose, then He uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what He chooses.""So, in the long run, God always wins?""Yes, in the short run though it can be uncomfortable.
Despite the fact that he loves books and owns a bookstore, A.J. does not particularly care for writers. He finds them to be unkempt, narcissistic, silly, and generally unpleasant people. He tries to avoid the ones who've written books he loves for fear that they will ruin their books for him.
You'll call me a damned Jew, a Christ murderer, a secret worshipper of pigs and a kidnapper of christian children.” This was all said cheerfully. “How absurd! Who would want to kidnap children, Christian or otherwise? Vile things. The only mercy of children is that they grow up, as my son has but then, tragically, they beget more children. We do not learn life's lessons.
Hat head is a sad affliction wherein the chosen hat and the selected hairstyle are grossly incompatible. The unfortunate combination results in a condition that can be hidden only with the application of another hat.
Jericho stopped him before he left. He slid the ring off his finger and handed it to him. "Take this."Asmodeus curled his lip as he shrank back from it. "I'm not about to marry your ugly ass, boy. No offense, but you ain't my type. I like my dates with less body hair... and with female parts attached by nature."Jericho let out an aggravated growl. "It's not a wedding ring, asshole. It's Berith's ring. You get into trouble you can summon him to help you get out of there."That completely changed his attitude. "Oh, hey, that could be worth an engagement to you." Asmodeus grinned as he palmed it. "If I'm back in a few hours... well, I don't want to think about that. I might change my mind about doing this. I'm thinking happy thoughts. Creamed dog innards and rotten steak. Yeah. Yum." He vanished.
It's a hat," said Jess.Manx stretched. "Yes.""A hat with - just to be clear - a lizard on it. A real, dead lizard.""An iguana, yea. It's been stuffed.""I can see that. Any idiot can see that, but it doesn;t address the issue.""The issue being?""Manx, you're wearing a goddamn reptile! On your head! With pride! It's like you're the lovechild of Carmen Miranda and a taxidermist!
There is something called the rapture of the deep, and it refers to what happens when a deep-sea diver spends too much time at the bottom of the ocean and can't tell which way is up. When he surfaces, he's liable to have a condition called the bends, where the body can't adapt to the oxygen levels in the atmosphere. All of this happens to me when I surface from a great book.
Himmlisch ist's wenn ich bezwungen Meine irdische Begier; Aber doch wenn's nich gelungen Hatt' ich auch recht huebsch Plaisir!Loosely translated:It is heavenly, when I overcomeMy earthly desiresBut nevertheless, when I'm not successful,It can also be quite pleasurable.
Stupid deer," I said, embarrassed about being startled. "We need a ladder.""I think they're easier to shoot with a rifle.""I'm not talking about the deer," I said, hitting Milo on the back of his shoulder. "We need a ladder to look over the wall.""Or a catapult," Milo said seriously.
AN ACADEMIC DEFINITION of Lynchian might be that the term "refers to a particular kind of irony where the very macabre and the very mundane combine in such a way as to reveal the former's perpetual containment within the latter." But like postmodern or pornographic, Lynchian is one of those Porter Stewart-type words that's ultimately definable only ostensively-i.e., we know it when we see it. Ted Bundy wasn't particularly Lynchian, but good old Jeffrey Dahmer, with his victims' various anatomies neatly separated and stored in his fridge alongside his chocolate milk and Shedd Spread, was thoroughgoingly Lynchian. A recent homicide in Boston, in which the deacon of a South Shore church reportedly gave chase to a vehicle that bad cut him off, forced the car off the road, and shot the driver with a highpowered crossbow, was borderline Lynchian. A Rotary luncheon where everybody's got a comb-over and a polyester sport coat and is eating bland Rotarian chicken and exchanging Republican platitudes with heartfelt sincerity and yet all are either amputees or neurologically damaged or both would be more Lynchian than not.
I am concussed,' I announced, entirely sure of my self-diagnosis.''You're fine,' Takumi said as he jogged back towards me. ''Let's get out of here before we're killed.''''I'm sorry,' I said. ''But I can't get up. I have suffered a mild concussion.''Lara ran out and sat down next to me.''Are you OK?''''I am concussed,'' I said.Takumi sat down with me and looked me in the eye. ''Do you know what happened to you?''''The beast got me.''''Do you know where you are?''''I'm on a triple-and-a-half date.''''You're fine,'' Takumi said. ''Let's go.''And then I leaned forward and threw up on Lara's pants.
That widow’s peak is preposterous. God. It really makes you feel the sad dearth of widow’s peaks in daily life. We could, like, use him as breeding stock to seed widow’s peaks into the populace.”“My god. What’s with all the mating and seed talk?”“I’m just saying,” Zuzana said reasonably. “I’m crazy about Mik, okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do my part for the proliferation of widow’s peaks. As a favor to the gene pool. You would, too, right? Or maybe…” She shot Karou a sidelong glance. “You already have?
Tom leaned in and spoke in a low, confidential voice, "Sir. You have a little something..." He lifted his forefinger surreptitiously to his own upper lip. Harrison brought his hand to his mustache to brush something off it, his eyes questioning. "What is it?""Carpet remnant?" Tom suggested.
What would you tell her about me?”He did not just ask that.“You did not just ask that.” She chuckled.“I’m serious,” he smiled.“Very well, if you must know, I would say that you are arrogant and foolish, too handsome for your own good and far too cognizant of your own intellect. Unbending, unsympathetic, dogmatic, pig-headed—”“Handsome?” he interrupted, unable to keep the smile from his face. “And intelligent?”“Don’t forget arrogant.
Let me guess," Brynn said from across the room. "Another brother, right?"Keegan glanced at Brynn, who was staring at Ronin with an expression of disbelief. He switched back to English. "This is our younger brother, Ronin.""Of course he is." Brynn let out an incredulous chuckle. "Did they specifically breed you guys in a lab or something?"He exchanged a confused look with Ronin. What did that mean?Bryn must have caught the look, because she explained, "Since you're all so hot, I mean.
What are you working on?" Elizabeth asked. Nate could hear her tapping a pencil on her desk. She took notes during their conversations. He didn't know what she did with the notes, but it bothered him."I have a lecture at the sanctuary in four days." Why, why had he told her? Why? Now she'd rattle down the mountain in her ancient Mercedes that looked like a Nazi staff car, sit in the audience, and ask all the questions that she knew in advance he couldn't answer.
There's something not quite Christian about it," Tony said. He sat back in his chair and looked up to where his Bible sat on the shelf. "I can't put my finger on why exactly, but it doesn't seem right for a couple of young ladies to be out there in the middle of the night, obsessing over their telescopes.
On Decoration Day, while everyone else in town was at the cemetery decorating the graves of our Glorious War Dead, Willie Beaner and me, Robert Burns Hewitt, took Mabel Cramm's bloomers and run them up the flagpole in front of the town hall. That was the beginning of all my troubles.
I could still see that Pauline was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever met, but of the ancient fire which had caused me to bung my heart at her feet that night at the Plaza there remained not a trace. Analysing this, if analyzing is the word I want, I came to the conclusion that this changed outlook was due to the fact that she was so dashed dynamic. Unquestionably an eyeful, Pauline Stoker had the grave defect of being one of those girls who want you to come and swim a mile before breakfast and rout you out when you are trying to snatch a wink of sleep after lunch for a merry five sets of tennis.
Casting my eyes on Mr. Wemmick as we went along, to see what he was like in the light of day, I found him to be a dry man, rather short in stature, with a square wooden face, whose expression seemed to have been imperfectly chipped out with a dull-edged chisel. There were some marks in it that might have been dimples, if the material had been softer and the instrument finer, but which, as it was, were only dints. The chisel had made three or four of these attempts at embellishment over his nose, but had given them up without an effort to smooth them off.
He said that it was very difficult to become an astronaut. I said that I knew. You had to become an officer in the air force and you had to take lots of orders and be prepared to kill other human beings, and I couldn't take orders. Also I didn't have 20/20 vision, which you needed to be a pilot.
One year I went as a pirate, but from then on I went as a hobo. It's a word you don't hear anymore. Along with 'tramp,' it's been replaced by 'homeless person,' which isn't the same thing. Unlike someone who was evicted or lost his house in a fire, the hobo roughed it by choice. Being at liberty, unencumbered by bills and mortgages, better suited his drinking schedule, and so he found shelter wherever he could, never a bum, but something much less threatening, a figure of merriment, almost.
Are you calling us pigs?’ Froi asked, watching as Rafuel winced for the tenth time at the formality of Froi’s Charyn.Rafuel thought for a moment and then nodded.‘Actually yes, I am. Pig-like.’Froi turned back to Trevanion and Perri, who were discussing the need for longbow training in the rock village.‘What is it?’ Perri asked Froi.‘He said we eat like pigs.’Trevanion and Perri thought about it for a moment and then went back to their conversation.
It seems - and who so astonished as they? - that they had held back material facts; that they were guilty of both suppressio veri and suggestio falsi (well-known gods against whom they often offended); further, that they were malignant in their dispositions, untrustworthy in their characters, pernicious and revolutionary in their influences, abandoned to the devils of wilfulness, pride, and a most intolerable conceit. Ninthly, and lastly, they were to have a care and to be very careful.
You came up this gut-wrenching road yesterday by yourself?" Cassie exclaimed. "You deserve a good cuffing just for driving this goat path on your own.""It's not so bad once you get used to dodging the ruts.""You've got some nerve calling these canyons ruts.""Cassandra Hudson, where is your sense of adventure?""I dropped it off going over that last rut-crossing when only two wheels were on the ground.""Those ones are a bit exhilarating, aren't they?" Alexandra shot Cassie a quick look and wink. "Keep your eyes on the road!""What road?""Exactly!
Every week seems to bring another luxuriantly creamy envelope, the thickness of a letter-bomb, containing a complex invitation – a triumph of paper engineering – and a comprehensive dossier of phone numbers, email addresses, websites, how to get there, what to wear, where to buy the gifts. Country house hotels are being block-booked, great schools of salmon are being poached, vast marquees are appearing overnight like Bedouin tent cities. Silky grey morning suits and top hats are being hired and worn with an absolutely straight face, and the times are heady and golden for florists and caterers, string quartets and Ceilidh callers, ice sculptors and the makers of disposable cameras. Decent Motown cover-bands are limp with exhaustion. Churches are back in fashion, and these days the happy couple are travelling the short distance from the place of worship to the reception on open-topped London buses, in hot-air balloons, on the backs of matching white stallions, in micro-lite planes. A wedding requires immense reserves of love and commitment and time off work, not least from the guests. Confetti costs eight pounds a box. A bag of rice from the corner shop just won’t cut it anymore.
He'd never asked for an exciting life. What he really liked, what he sought on every occasion, was boredom. The trouble was that boredom tended to explode in your face. Just when he thought he'd found it he'd be suddenly involved in what he supposed other people - thoughtless, feckless people - would call an adventure. And he'd be forced to visit many strange lands and meet exotic and colourful people, although not for very long because usually he'd be running. He'd seen the creation of the universe, although not from a good seat, and had visited Hell and the afterlife. He'd been captured, imprisoned, rescued, lost and marooned. Sometimes it had all happened on the same day.
The one that sang, old Janine, was always whispering into the g***** microphone before she sang. She'd say, 'And now we like to geeve you our impression of Vooly Voo Fransay. Eet ees the story of leetle Fransh girl who comes to a beeg ceety, just like New York, and falls een love wees a leetle boy from Brookleen. We hope you like eet.' Then, when she was all done whispering and being cute as hell, she'd sing some dopey song, half in English and half in French, and drive all the phonies in the place mad with joy.
Falon stared at Del intently, trying to figure out what was different. As usual, Del was impeccably dressed in a lavender dress that revealed her curves. Her nail polish and shoes matched her clothing perfectly. Del’s shoulder-length blond hair looked the same. “Smile at me,” Falon said suddenly, and Del showed her teeth. “You got Botox again.” “Yeah, my dentist does it at his office now. I can get my teeth cleaned and my lines erased at the same time. If I could get him to do collagen injections, I’d be set. I wish these doctors would work together. If my gynecologist worked in the same office as my dentist, I’d look like a race car in the pit. I’d get it all done in one appointment and be back on the road in no time.” Del glanced at her watch. “That reminds me, I’m going to see a plastic surgeon for a consultation tomorrow, so I’ll be late getting here in the morning.” “Would you leave your face alone? Del, you look fine.” “It’s not my face, I’m thinking about having my vagina reshaped. The other day when I was being lasered, I was staring at it in the big mirror. You can really see all your girl junk in it, but it’s kind of magnified, so I wasn’t really sure if things were as out of proportion as they seemed. When I got home, I looked at it with a hand mirror, and it still doesn’t look right to me.” Del stood and began pulling up her dress. “You’ve seen a shitload of vaginas, so I want you to tell me—” “Don’t you dare whip that out in here!” Falon covered her eyes with her hand. “I’m not looking at it, Del. I’m not!” “Come on, really?” Del looked completely taken aback. “You looked at my boobs.” “That’s because you turned them loose before I realized what you were doing.” Falon waved her hand. “Your lady junk is far more personal than boobs.” “How so?” “Cleavage,” Falon blurted out. “You wear shirts that show cleavage, that’s like a little preview. Your lady junk is a total mystery, and I want it to stay that way...
...You agreed we would be fearless together. I’m gonna need you to keep your promise,” Haley said a little loudly. Falon’s office door opened, and Del stepped inside. “I heard a raised voice,” she said and gave Haley the eye. “Were you out there listening to our conversation?” Falon snapped. “Yes,” Del said unabashedly with her gaze locked on Haley. “I’m Falon’s bodyguard. Don’t let my manicure, impeccable high and lowlighted hair, and makeup fool you. I can have a shoe off my foot in less than half a second and peck you full of holes with the heel before you even know what hit you.” “Del!” Falon exclaimed as she hopped off her stool. “Honey, that might’ve scared me before I met Falon, but I’ve let monkeys climb in my shirt, and I’m about to get a tattoo.” Haley stepped up to Del. “Bring. It. On.
...Do you need a hug?” Payton asked with a smile. Ryann chuckled as Payton walked around the kitchen cabinet and held open her arms. “Come on in.” Ryann wrapped her arms around Payton’s waist and set her chin on her shoulder. “I made that stupid Silent of the Lambs threat again, and she corrected me. That made me furious.” Payton snorted with laughter as she wrapped her arms snugly around her. “Did you ever see the movie?” “No, I don’t like serial killer flicks. Shelly told me about it.” “I didn’t think so. The killer didn’t make meat suits, he took their skin. So when you want to sound really vicious, you say something like… ‘I’ll skin you and wear one of your ass cheeks like a beanie.’” “That’s really gross,” Ryann said as she continued to hold on. “But I suppose ‘I’ll snap you like a broomstick’ doesn’t have the same effect.
It’s SpongeBob, Eleanor,” he said, speaking very slowly and clearly as though I were some sort of idiot. “SpongeBob SquarePants?” A semi-human bath sponge with protruding front teeth! On sale as if it were something completely unremarkable! For my entire life, people have said that I’m strange, but really, when I see things like this, I realize that I’m actually relatively normal.
No, my eldest brother. He was named after our father. Our parents died when the Romans first invaded, and Stephano then became the "head of the family". " She grimaced. "He and I are like oil and water. Or we were. We get along well enough now, though." She grinned. "But boy did he pitch a fit over the concubine thing. He even called in Uncle Lucian to deal with me."Harper's eyebrows rose. "I'm surprised Lucian bothered to intervene."..."Yes, well..." Drina grimaced. "I'm afraid while I was een as a concubine, I was really playing puppet master with my lover and kind of ruling the country though him. At least until Uncle Lucian caught wind of it and came to give me hell.
I'll send three of Harnet's Di'taken. I have it on good authority that they think the sun shines out of my ass."Pole leaned forwards just enough to bring the major into his line of sight.Pole - "All of them?" Torrin - "Some of them are officers and thus blinded by the sun shining out of their own asses."Pole - "Did you just say that?"Torrin - "Yeah," Torrin offered him her hand. "Get over it.
Demane: "Gods could only carry away Homo celestialis with them, you see, because the angels had already learned to make their bodies light. But most sapiens—even those of us with fully expressed theogenetica—haven’t yet attained the psionic phylogeny necessary to sublimnify the organism.”"Do doubt," Comalo nodded mellowly. "No doubt. I'd always maybe thought it was something like that.
The first thing they would do would be to open my mouth and extract the soggy ball of my handkerchief, and as they spread it out flat on the table beside my white remains, an orange stamp—a stamp belonging to the King—would flutter to the floor: It was like something right out of Agatha Christie.
Displeased is too mild a word, Pauline. I would rather use the word "vexed". I would be most discomforted to know that you were "vexed" my lord, Halt said, with just the slightest trace of mockery in his tone. The Baron turned a piercing glare on him, don't take this too far, it warned him. Then we shall make it "extremely vexed", lady Pauline, he said meaningfully. I leave it to you to put it in the right form. He looked from her to Halt. You will receive the official notification of my displeasure tomorrow, Halt. I tremble in anticipation my lord, said Halt.
For our radically misnamed “materialistic” civilization must above all cultivate the love of material, of earth, air, and water, of mountains and forests, of excellent food and imaginative housing and clothing, and of cherishing our artfully erotic contacts between human bodies. Certainly, all these so–called “things” are as impermanent as ripples in water, but what life, what love, what energy is there in a perfectly pure abstraction or a totally solid and eternally indestructible rock?
I took my line straight away. I knew I was staking everything, but I jumped there and then. "We're on absolutely the biggest thing that has ever been invented," I said, and put the accent on "we." "If you want to keep me out of this, you'll have to do it with a gun. I'm coming down to be your fourth labourer to-morrow.
The sound of an English accent distracted her and lifted her spirits. She associated English accents with singing teapots, schools for witchcraft, and the science of deduction. This wasn't, she knew, terribly sophisticated of her, but she had no real guilt about it. She felt the English were themselves to blame for her feelings. They had spent a century relentlessly marketing their detectives and wizards and nannies, and they had to live with the results.
Americans can't stand any stranger looking them in the face. They take it as an insult. It's something they don't forgive. And every American carries a gun. If they catch you, a stranger, looking them in the face, they will shoot.
It is 32c today, and the only thing keeping me from hanging myself is the small sense of relief I glean from attaching my body to the vents of my delicious cooling piece. It is a stunning unit, exquisite in all its forms, exceptional in its application, and effective in all its functions. I would marry it, if only I knew it would not die on me sometime within the next five years. Appliances, like obedient children or silent extroverts, cannot last forever, and while my unbidden affection kept my other air conditioner alive for the better part of ten years, not all inanimate objects can be fueled by my love.
So you're getting back together with her? Just like that? Muriel asks."Not 'just like that'..." "How then?" Muriel enjoys playing devil's advocate. "For starters, it will have to be long distance for a while..." She doesn't let up. "For a while? Have you booked the U-Haul already?
Her sample drawings were clipped, rather subordinately, to her photograph. All of them were arresting. One of them was unforgettable. The unforgettable one was done in florid wash colors, with a caption that read: 'Forgive Them Their Trespasses.' It showed three small boys fishing in an odd-looking body of water, one of their jackets draped over a 'No Fishing!' sign. The tallest boy, in the foreground of the picture, appeared to have rickets in one leg and elephantiasis in the other--an effect, it was clear, that Miss Kramer had deliberately used to show that the boy was standing with his feet slightly apart.
Tas had been teasing Flint unmercifully all morning, calling him "Seamaster" and "Shipmate" asking him the price of fish, and how much he would charge to Ferry them back across the lake. Flint finally threw a rock at him, and Tennis sent ass down to the lake to scrub out the pans.
‘Shall we go down and have a closer look?’ Hum asked.“ ‘All right. I think we have time — wait! What day is this?’“Hum calculated silently, then said, ‘The fifth day of Luggat.’“ ‘Damn,’ Cordovir said. ‘I have to go home and kill my wife.’“ ‘It’s a few hours before sunset,’ Hum said. ‘I think you have time to do both.’“Cordovir wasn’t sure. ‘I’d hate to be late.’“ ‘Well then. You know how fast I am,’ Hum said. ‘If it gets late, I’ll hurry back and kill her myself. How about that?’“ ‘That’s very decent of you.’ Cordovir thanked the younger man and together they slithered down the steep mountainside.
all the time complaining at me that she could have had a career dancing topless at the Orbital Grill and Rendezvous Parlor. Her and her perky breasts. Yasmin, I told her, all the girls have perky breasts in zero-g, you were nothing special, you’re lucky a good man took you away from all that.
They love each other, marry (in order to love each other better, more conveniently). He goes to the wars, he dies at the wars. She weeps (with emotion) at having loved him, at having lost him. (Yep!) Marries again (in order to love again, more conveniently again). They love each other. (You love as many timesas necessary - as necessary in order to be happy.) He come back (the other comes back) from the wars: he didn't die at the wars after all. She goes tothe station, to meet him. He dies in the train (of emotion) at the thought of seeing her again, having her again. She weeps (weeps again, with emotionagain) at having lost him again. (Yep!) Goes back to the house. He's dead - the other is dead. The mother-in-law takes him down: he hanged himself (with emotion) at the thought of losing her. She weeps (weeps louder) at having loved him, at having lost him.
Patients, beings who want to be rehabilitated, send me questions See? I answer them real fast, 1 2 3 done Like so You get?' Toby said, his pale green fingers clattering across the keyboard. 'I think so,' I said, shifting in my chair.'Okay hear we go First question: I just moved to a new city and there's a school next door All the kids, every last student, wear the same clothes Are they all related Is this one of those mafia families I need to be careful around You know the answer? Toby asked, swiveling to face me.'Perhaps,' I said after thinking a moment. It took a second to distinguish when the question ended and when Toby's remarks started. 'You sure, I can check real quick 1 2 3 I check that fast,' Toby said, his words zooming out of his mouth while Google search engine popped up on his computer screen.
The orchestra had ceased and were now climbing onto their chairs, with their instruments. The floral offerings flew; the coffin teetered. "Catch it!" a voice shouted. They sprang forward, but the coffin crashed heavily to the floor, coming open. The corpse tumbled slowly and sedately out and came to rest with its face in the center of a wreath. "Play something!" the proprietor bawled, waving his arms; "play! Play!
Most of the machinery of modern language is labour-saving machinery; and it saves mental labour very much more than it ought. Scientific phrases are used like scientific wheels and piston-rods to make swifter and smoother yet the path of the comfortable. Long words go rattling by us like long railway trains. We know they are carrying thousands who are too tired or too indolent to walk and think for themselves. It is a good exercise to try for once in a way to express any opinion one holds in words of one syllable. If you say “The social utility of the indeterminate sentence is recognized by all criminologists as a part of our sociological evolution towards a more humane and scientific view of punishment,” you can go on talking like that for hours with hardly a movement of the gray matter inside your skull. But if you begin “I wish Jones to go to gaol and Brown to say when Jones shall come out,” you will discover, with a thrill of horror, that you are obliged to think. The long words are not the hard words, it is the short words that are hard. There is much more metaphysical subtlety in the word “damn” than in the word “degeneration.
I saw the statue completely different now. I'd decided that he wasn't pointing to anything or anyone. Now all I could see was that he was reaching out his hand to someone. For me that explained the expression on his face that I'd never quite been able to understand before. He was hopeful and nervous and scared and a little bit proud of himself for doing it - extending his hand to someone, not knowing if they'd take it. This was, I had realized, one of the scariest things of all, requiring much more courage than sailing across an ocean and landing on an unknown shore At least that's what I saw. Clark and Tom's new theory was that he was a time traveler who'd somehow been transported to the past and was just trying to hail a cab.
To see Ramses, at fourteen months, wrinkling his brows over a sentence like 'The theology of the Egyptians was a compound of fetishism, totem-ism and syncretism' was a sight as terrifying as it was comical. Even more terrifying was the occasional thoughtful nod the child would give....the room was dark except for one lamp, by whose light Emerson was reading. Ramses, in his crib, contemplated the ceiling with rapt attention. It made a pretty little family scene, until one heard what was being said. '...the anatomical details of the wounds, which included a large gash in the frontal bone, a broken malar bone and orbit, and a spear thrust which smashed off the mastoid process and struck the atlas vertebra, allow us to reconstruct the death scene of the king.' ... From the small figure in the cot came a reflective voice. 'It appeaws to me that he was muwduwed.'...' a domestic cwime.'...'One of the ladies of the hawem did it, I think.' I seized Emerson by the arm and pushed him toward the door, before he could pursue this interesting suggestion.
Never underestimate the audacity of the small minded and slightly crapulous.A rather bleezed young neighbour decided to have a grammar battle with me. It lasted all of two seconds.I said something slightly amicable, and he responded with, “You sure that's how you use that word?”I put down my laundry basket and turned to him slowly and deliberately.“Do you really want to have this discussion with me, son, or do you want to go home and rethink your life?”He grumbled and vanished.
Mary leaned back, exhaled, and watched her smoke rise. 'What sort of man do you want anyway?'"Tall. Funny. Never came top of his class or pulled the wings off bees.""Yes, but I mean really? When all of this is over, and assuming we win -" ...Hilda snorted. "(I) just want a tall man and a stiff drink. You could even swap the adjectives.
Cup of JoeThere's nothing like a cup of joe,when the morning's grey and grim and slow,when the streets collide with the world outside,when litter lies where lilies grow.Just drink that smoking cup of blackand feel your feelings surging back.Plus, spill a drop and a coffee shopwill sprout up from a sidewalk crack!
Now, how do you suppose this queen will react when you turn up with your begging bowl in hand and say, 'Good morrow to you, Auntie. I am your nephew, Aegon, returned from the dead. I've been hiding on a poleboat all my life, but now I've washed the blue dye from my hair and I'd like a dragon, please...and oh, did I mention, my claim to the Iron Throne is stronger than your own?
She had no idea how she was supposed to act, no idea how to feel. Julian had just made incredible love to her, but he wasn't *in love* with her. He'd stamped himself forever on her--body, heart, and soul--but a year from now he probably wouldn't remember who she was. He'd rocked her world, and yet he was only temporarily a part of it. What was a woman supposed to say? "Thanks, stud"?
The carrier's horse was the laziest horse in the world, I should hope, and shuffled along, with his head down, as if he liked to keep people waiting to whom the packages were directed. I fancied, indeed, that he sometimes chuckled audibly over this reflection, but the carrier said he was only troubled with a cough." -Chapter 3
The demon trapped in the summoning circle screamed, slamming its crablike pincers against the unseen barrier, hurling its chitinous shoulders from side to side in an effort to escape the confinement. It couldn't. I kept my will on the circle, kept the demon from bursting free."Satisfied, Chauncy?" I asked it.The demon straightened its hideous form and said, in a perfect Oxford accent, "Quite. You understand, I must observe the formalities.
Owning a drone does not a pilot make.
Bessie was News, Leaders, and Gossip; Enid was Features, Make-up and general Sub. Whenever they were at a loss for copy they would mercilessly pillage ancient copies of Punch or Home Chat. An occasional hole in the copy was filled with a ghoulish smudge - local block-making had clearly indicated that somewhere a poker-work fanatic had gone quietly out of his mind. In this way the Central Balkan Herald was made up every morning and then delivered to the composition room where the chain-gang quickly reduced it to gibberish. MINISTER FINED FOR KISSING IN PUBIC. WEDDING BULLS RING OUT FOR PRINCESS. QUEEN OF HOLLAND GIVES PANTY FOR EX-SERVICE MEN. MORE DOGS HAVE BABIES THIS SUMMER IN BELGRADE. BRITAINS NEW FLYING-GOAT.
The lawbreaking itch is not always an anarchic one. In the first place, the human personality has (or ought to have) a natural resistance to coercion. We don't like to be pushed and shoved, even if it's in a direction we might choose to go. In the second place, the human personality has (or ought to have) a natural sense of the preposterous. Thus, just behind my apartment building in Washington there is an official sign saying, Drug-Free Zone. I think this comic inscription may be done because it's close to a schoolyard. And a few years back, one of our suburbs announced by a municipal ordinance that it was a "nuclear-free zone." I don't wish to break the first law, though if I did wish to do so it would take me, or any other local resident, no more than one phone call and a ten-minute wait. I did, at least for a while, pine to break the "nuclear-free" regulation, on grounds of absurdity alone, but eventually decided that it would be too much trouble.
That brow arched once more. "Does it? You think people will believe it when the truth is that I ruined you on an abandoned estate before your father stormed the house with a rifle?"She hesitated. "I would not call it storming.""He fired several rounds at my house. If that isn't storming, I don't know what is.
You never know what you will find in your pants!
I cried and I cried and I cried. I wasn't crying because I was happy. I wasn't crying because I was sad. I wasn't crying because of my mother or my father or Paul. I was crying because I was full...I didn't feel like a big fate idiot anymore. And I didn't feel like a hard-ass motherfucking Amazonian queen. I felt fierce and humble and gathered up inside, like I was safe in this world too.
I said to my friend, "Why do you smoke (cigarettes)?"He replied, "Because I like to put myself on the line for the welfare and safety of others."I astonishingly said, "Sorry, I didn't get your point."He replied, "I want a cigarette-free world. Therefore, I am trying my best to end all the cigarettes from the world.
THE UNOFFICIAL AND UNWRITTEN(but you better follow them or you’re going to get beaten twice as hard)SPOKANE INDIAN RULES OF FISTICUFFS:1. IF SOMEBODY INSULTS YOU, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HIM.2. IF YOU THINK SOMEBODY IS GOING TO INSULT YOU, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HIM.3. IF YOU THINK SOMEBODY IS THINKING ABOUT INSULTING YOU, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HIM.4. IF SOMEBODY INSULTS ANY OF YOUR FAMILY OR FRIENDS, OR IF YOU THINK THEY’RE GOING TO INSULT YOUR FAMILY OR FRIENDS, OR IF YOU THINK THEY’RE THINKING ABOUT INSULTING YOUR FAMILY OR FRIENDS, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HIM.5. YOU SHOULD NEVER FIGHT A GIRL, UNLESS SHE INSULTS YOU, YOUR FAMILY, OR YOUR FRIENDS, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT HER.6. IF SOMEBODY BEATS UP YOUR FATHER OR YOUR MOTHER, THEN YOU HAVE TO FIGHT THE SON AND/OR DAUGHTER OF THE PERSON WHO BEAT UP YOUR MOTHER OR FATHER.7. IF YOUR MOTHER OR FATHER BEATS UP SOMEBODY, THEN THAT PERSON’S SON AND/OR DAUGHTER WILL FIGHT YOU.8. YOU MUST ALWAYS PICK FIGHTS WITH THE SONS AND/OR DAUGHTERS OF ANY INDIANS WHO WORK FOR THE BUREA OF INDIAN AFFAIRS.9. YOU MUST ALWAYS PICK FIGHTS WITH THE SONS AND/OR DAUGHTERS OF ANY WHITE PEOPLE WHO LIVE ANYWHERE ON THE RESERVATION.10. IF YOU GET IN A FIGHT WITH SOMEBODY WHO IS SURE TO BEAT YOU UP, THEN YOU MUST THROW THE FIRST PUNCH, BECAUSE IT’S THE ONLY PUNCH YOU’LL EVER GET TO THROW.11. IN ANY FIGHT, THE LOSER IS THE FIRST ONE WHO CRIES.
In this, then, lies their power of understanding--understanding, without words, what is authentic or inauthentic. Thus it was the grimaces, the histrionisms, the false gestures and, above all, the false tones and cadences of the voice, which rang false for those wordless but immensely sensitive patients. It was to these (for them) most glaring, even grotesque, incongruities and improprieties that my aphasic patients responded, undeceived and undeceivable by words.This is why they laughed at the President's speech.
Let's not play games, Mr. Cratchett," I replied. "I wanted to let you know that I'll be coming in for an appointment with Mr. Raisin on Tuesday morning at eleven o'clock. I shall need about an hour and would prefer it if we were not disturbed during that time. I hope that he will be free at that hour but just so you both know, if he is not, then I am perfectly willing to sit in your office until he is free. I shall bring a book with me to pass the time. I shall bring two, if need be. I shall bring the complete works of Shakespeare if he insists on keeping me waiting interminably and those plays will get me through the long hours. But I will not leave until I have seen him, are we quite clear on that? Now, I wish you a very pleasant Sunday, Mr. Cratchett. Enjoy your lunch, won't you? Your breath smells of whisky.
For instance, a fireman is a brave fellow! He fears nothing, least ofall fire! Well, the fireman in question, who had gone to make a roundof inspection in the cellars and who, it seems, had ventured a littlefarther than usual, suddenly reappeared on the stage, pale, scared,trembling, with his eyes starting out of his head, and practicallyfainted in the arms of the proud mother of little Jammes.[1] And why?Because he had seen coming toward him, AT THE LEVEL OF HIS HEAD, BUTWITHOUT A BODY ATTACHED TO IT, A HEAD OF FIRE! And, as I said, afireman is not afraid of fire.The fireman's name was Pampin.
Living on pills, phone calls unmade, people unseen, pages unwritten, money unmade, pressure piling up all around to make some kind of breakthrough and get moving again. Get the gum off the rails, finish something, croak this awful habit of not ever getting to the end- of anything.
How many more nights and weird mornings can this terrible shit go on? How long can the body and the brain tolerate this doom-struck craziness? This grinding of teeth, this pouring of sweat, this pounding of blood in the temples… small blue veins gone amok in front of the ears, sixty and seventy hours with no sleep.
A vine from one tree shot out, tripping Blaise. He and Merewyn rolled to the ground. Varian stood between them and the trees, which shot blast after blast at him. He deflected them, but even so the heat from the fire was scorching. 'Go, Blaise,' he said. 'Get Merewyn out of here.'Blaise nodded before he crawled to Merewyn under the barrage.'Hold!'The blast stopped as the three of them froze into place.Again the woman appeared in the fire to stare at them maliciously. 'What is it you do?''I'm crawling,' Blaise answered.
All those pathetically eager acid freaks who thought they could buy Peace and Understanding for three bucks a hit. But their failure is ours, too. What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped to create... a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody-or at least some force-is tending that Light at the end of the tunnel.This is the same cruel and paradoxically benevolent bullshit has kept the Catholic Church going for so many centuries. It is also the military ethic...a blind faith in some higher and wiser “authority.” The Pope, The General, The Prime Minister... all the way up to “God.
Howie: "What if the whole thing was just an accident?"Jazz: "And what? Accidentally cut off three fingers postmortem? 'Oops, oh no, my girlfriend just died! Clumsy me, in trying to perform CPR, I chopped off some fingers! Guess I'll take them with me…Oh, darn, where did that middle finger go?
ROSA MET ME at the door with a shotgun. Strictly speaking, not aimed at me, but you don’t really have to aim a sawed-off shotgun. She swung it toward me. “You, get in there.” She turned her attention to the crowd. “The rest of you will take a number and have a seat.” Her paperwork skills might have been lousy, but her personal touch was something I aspired to.
Once she even successfully argued on behalf of my older brother, Dan, getting a BBGun, a weapon which he promptly turned against his younger siblings, outfitting us in helmet and leather jacket and instructing us to run across Eaton Park while he practiced his marksmanship. Today he is a colonel in the army and the rest of us are gun-shy.
Shergahn and friend lay like poleaxed steers, and the Daranfelian's greasy hair was thick with potatoes, carrots, gravy, and chunks of beef. His companion had less stew in his hair, but an equally large lump was rising fast, and Brandark flipped his improvised club into the air, caught it in proper dipping position, and filled it once more from the pot without even glancing at them. He raised the ladle to his nose, inhaled deeply, and glanced at the cook with an impudent twitch of his ears."Smells delicious," he said while the laughter started up all around the fire. "I imagine a bellyful of this should help a hungry man sleep. Why, just look what a single ladle of it did for Shergahn!
Well, thank the gods,' he sighed.'Oh? And what would it be you're thanking them for?' Bahzell inquired, and Brandark grinned.'For making roads and letting us find one. Not that I'm complaining, you understand, but this business of following you cross-country without the faintest idea where I am can worry a man.
Mary Farquhar, who always flirts with her own husband across the dinner-table. That is not very pleasant. Indeed, it is not even decent . . . and that sort of thing is enormously on the increase. The amount of women in London who flirt with their own husbands is perfectly scandalous. It looks so bad. It is simply washing one's clean linen in public...
ALGERNON. I really don't see anything romantic in proposing. It is very romantic to be in love. But there is nothing romantic about a definite proposal. Why, one may be accepted. One usually is, I believe. Then the excitement is all over. The very essence of romance is uncertainty. If ever I get married, I'll certainly try to forget the fact.JACK. I have no doubt about that, dear Algy. The Divorce Court was specially invented for people whose memories are so curiously constituted.ALGERNON. Oh! there is no use speculating on that subject. Divorces are made in Heaven-...
SNEER. But, what the deuce, is the confidante to be mad too?PUFF. To be sure she is. The confidante is always to do whatever her mistress does- weep when she weeps, smile when she smiles, go mad when she goes mad.-Now, Madam Confidante! But keep your madness in the background, if you please.
The "word" did not "offer itself" in a take-it-or-leave-it fashion, any more than Caesar's heralds would have said, "If you'd like a new kind of imperial experience, you might like to try giving allegiance to the new emperor.
Goodness, that stuff rips like paper,” she exclaimed, reaching to pull her tank top off. She was halfway through the action when the door opened and Alec walked into the room.“Izzy, are you—” he began. His eyes flew wide, and he backed up fast enough to smack his head into the wall behind him. “What is he doing here?”Isabelle tugged her tank top back down and glared at her brother. “You don’t knock now?”“It—It’s my bedroom!” Alec spluttered. He seemed to be deliberately trying not to look at Izzy and Simon, who were indeed in a very compromising position.
I'm pretty well. So's the family, and so's the boys, except for a sort of rash as is a running through the school, and rather puts 'em off their feed. But it's a ill wind as blows no good to nobody; that's what I always say when them lads has a wisitation. A wisitation, sir, is the lot of mortality. Mortality itself, sir, is a wisitation. The world is chock full of wisitations; and if a boy repines at a wisitation and makes you uncomfortable with his noise, he must have his head punched. That's going according to the Scripter, that is.
He broke off and eyed with dignified surprise a fine piece of wireless telegraphy between husband and wife. It appeared that Mr. Negget sent off a humorous message with his left eye, the right being for some reason closed, to which Mrs. Negget replied with a series of frowns and staccato shakes of the head, which her husband found easily translatable. Under the austere stare of Mr. Bodfish their faces at once regained their wonted calm, and the ex-constable in a somewhat offended manner resumed his inquiries.
She was a most wonderful woman for prowling about the house. How she got from story to story was a mystery beyond solution. A lady so decorous in herself, and so highly connected, was not to be suspected of dropping over the banisters or sliding down them, yet her extraordinary facility of locomotion suggested the wild idea. Another noticeable circumstance in Mrs. Sparsit was, that she was never hurried. She would shoot with consummate velocity from the roof to the hall, yet would be in full possession of her breath and dignity on the moment of her arrival there. Neither was she ever seen by human vision to go at a great pace.
Mr. Wopsle's great-aunt kept an evening school in the village; that is to say, she was a ridiculous old woman of limited means and unlimited infirmity, who used to go to sleep from six to seven every evening, in the society of youth who paid two pence per week each, for the improving opportunity of seeing her do it.
To-day well, my Utopia, if ever I framed one, would be a land where the laws demanded that people should be vicious. Then one would be able to count at any rate on a little virtue. If no man might live with a woman in any but an irregular union, there would be at once quite a run on honest matrimony and the Law Courts would be full of desperately wicked monogamists; while if every one was expected to steal and swindle, there would soon be an extensive criminal class who respected property.
I walked back by way of the sea-lions' enclosure to refresh my eyes with the King Penguin's perfect ecclesiastical tailoring. He was pacing moodily about as usual, in what one felt to be the interval between a marriage ceremony and a funeral service. Much better, I thought, to have left the 2000 a year to him. No harm would then be done, and what perfect episcopal garden-parties he could give with it!
A mere wilderness, as you see, even now in December; but in summer a complete nursery of briers, a forest of thistles, a plantation of nettles, without any live stock but goats, that have eaten up all the bark of the trees. Here you see is the pedestal of a statue, with only half a leg and four toes remaining: there were many here once. When I was a boy, I used to sit every day on the shoulders of Hercules: what became of him I have never been able to ascertain. Neptune has been lying these seven years in the dust-hole; Atlas had his head knocked off to fit him for propping a shed; and only the day before yesterday we fished Bacchus out of the horse-pond.
Raven: The Honourable Mr Listless is gone. He declared that, what with family quarrels in the morning, and ghosts at night, he could get neither sleep nor peace; and that the agitation was too much for his nerves: though Mr Glowry assured him that the ghost was only poor Crow walking in his sleep, and that the shroud and bloody turban were a sheet and a red nightcap.
Of course I can read", he said. "Jesus Christ.""Well, then, what are you trying to tell me? That you don't want to?" "No. I-" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. "-I don't know why I'm trying to tell you anything. I can read. I just can't read book.""So pretend it's a really long street sign and muddle through it.
Flirt with the old ladies and you’ll be fine,” I muttered, shoving my stuff into the cubby. He hung his green hoodie on the hooks right beside me. “Is that how you get by?” “Doesn’t work on the old ladies for me, but the old men on the other hand?” I paused and glanced at my nails. “Yeah, doesn’t work on them either.
Dad said I had no respect for money and that if I didn't learn when I was little when was I going to learn? Kids who get Bart Simpson dolls at the drop of a hat turn into punks who steal from convenience stores, ‘cos they wind up thinking they can have whatever they want, just like that. So instead of a Bart doll he bought me an ugly porcelain pig with a slot in its back, and now I'll grow up to be okay, now I won't turn into a punk.
The photographer was lost for riposte, obvious though it should have been; instead he turned to run. At least his mind did. In fact, his mind had already scooted down the Broad Walk and was clambering over the railings at the end, whereas his body had remained rooted to the spot. With some effort he looked down at his feet as if to reprimand them. They refused to take notice.
One of the fundamental axioms of masculine self-regard is that the tools and appurtenances of a man's life must be containable within the pockets of his jacket and pants. Wallet, keys, gum, show or ball game tickets, Kleenex, condoms, cell phone, maybe a lighter and a pack of cigarettes: Just cram it all in there, motherfucker.
When they see the light at the end of the tunnel, some people run towards it. I, however, run from it as fast as I can because I know that it's attatched to a speeding train coming in our direction. And if I were you, staring at that light drooling and saying "Ooh, pretty," I would run as fast as my legs could carry me, because I don't plan on dying early with the rest of you fools.
You don't even know if she really likes you, Oberon said as we exited and I unlocked my bike. She could be doing her customer service routine and stringing you along in hopes of a big tip the next time you come in. With dogs you just go up and smell their asses and you know where you stand, it's so much easier. Why can't humans do that?
Ryker, you ride with Orlando,” Ryker mocked in a snarky voice as he turned to the other man. He gestured toward the Pinto with a look of revulsion on his rugged face. “How the hell does he expect both of us to fit into that tiny metal trap? Even if we could squeeze in, the tires will probably pop. In fact, let's just carry it over. It'll be faster that way.
May my hands fall from my wrists before I kill an artist like yourself," said the man in black. "I would as soon destroy da Vinci. However"—and here he clubbed Inigo's head with the butt of his sword—"since I can't have you following me either, please understand that I hold you in the highest respect.
Hello there," Inigo hollered when he could wait no more.The man in black glanced up and grunted."I've been watching you."The man in black nodded."Slow going," Inigo said."Look, I don't mean to be rude," the man in black said finally, "but I'm rather busy just now, so try not to distract me.""I'm sorry," Inigo said.The man in black grunted again."I don't suppose you could speed things up," Inigo said."If you want to speed things up so much," the man in black said, clearly quite angry now, "you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find some other helpful thing to do.
Oh golly, Brer Fox, your forthright assertion—that evolutionary biology disproves the idea of a creator God—jeopardises the teaching of biology in science class, since teaching that would violate the separation of church and state!' Right. You also ought to soft-pedal physiology, since it declares virgin birth impossible
Earlier maps had underestimated the distances to other continents and exaggerated the outlines of individual nations. Now global dimensions could be set, with authority, by the celestial spheres. Indeed, King Louis XIV of France, confronted with a revised map of his domain based on accurate longitude measurements, reportedly complained that he was losing more territory to his astronomers than to his enemies.
Diligence and attention soon gave him the knack of it, and he strode down the street with his mouth full of harmony and his soul full of gratitude. He felt much as an astronomer feels who has discovered a new planet—no doubt, as far as strong, deep, unalloyed pleasure is concerned, the advantage was with the boy, not the astronomer.
I have considered the impudent accusations of Mr Dawkins with exasperation at his lack of serious scholarship. He has apparently not read the detailed discourses of Count Roderigo of Seville on the exquisite and exotic leathers of the Emperor's boots, nor does he give a moment's consideration to Bellini's masterwork, On the Luminescence of the Emperor's Feathered Hat. We have entire schools dedicated to writing learned treatises on the beauty of the Emperor's raiment, and every major newspaper runs a section dedicated to imperial fashion ... Dawkins arrogantly ignores all these deep philosophical ponderings to crudely accuse the Emperor of nudity ... Until Dawkins has trained in the shops of Paris and Milan, until he has learned to tell the difference between a ruffled flounce and a puffy pantaloon, we should all pretend he has not spoken out against the Emperor's taste. His training in biology may give him the ability to recognize dangling genitalia when he sees it, but it has not taught him the proper appreciation of Imaginary Fabrics.
It is a tedious cliché (and, unlike many clichés, it isn't even true) that science concerns itself with how questions, but only theology is equipped to answer why questions. What on Earth is a why question? Not every English sentence beginning with the word 'why' is a legitimate question. Why are unicorns hollow? Some questions simply do not deserve an answer. What is the colour of abstraction? What is the smell of hope? The fact that a question can be phrased in a grammatically correct English sentence doesn't make it meaningful, or entitle it to our serious attention. Nor, even if the question is a real one, does the fact that science cannot answer it imply that religion can.
For his part, Mendeleev scanned Lecoq de Boisbaudran’s data on gallium and told the experimentalist, with no justification, that he must have measured something wrong, because the density and weight of gallium differed from Mendeleev’s predictions. This betrays a flabbergasting amount of gall, but as science philosopher-historian Eric Scerri put it, Mendeleev always “was willing to bend nature to fit his grand philosophical scheme.” The only difference between Mendeleev and crackpottery is that Mendeleev was right: Lecoq de Boisbaudran soon retracted his data and published results that corroborated Mendeleev’s predictions.
There are times when every act, no matter how private or unconscious, becomes political. Whom you live with, how you wear your hair, whether you marry, whether you insist that your child take piano lessons, what are the brand names on your shelf; all these become political decisions. At other times, no act--no campaign or tract, statement or rampage--has any political charge at all. People with the least sense of which times are, and which are not, political are usually most avid about politics. At six one morning, Will went out in jeans and a frayed sweater to buy a quart of milk. A tourist bus went by. The megaphone was directed at him. "There's one," it said. That was in the 1960's. Ever since, he's wondered. There's one what?
He (Lincoln) differed from fanatical moralists primarily in that he was always perplexed. No sooner did he believe he was doing God's will that he began to admit that God's purposes might be different from his own. In short, he never forgot the men's contrast between the absolute goodness of God and the faltering goodness of all who are in the finite predicament.
I poke at my skull with a finger. It didn't feel soft or anything. I didn't feel insane. But if you'd really lost it, would you have enough left to know? Crazy people never thought they were crazy. "I've always talked to things," I said. "And to myself." "Good point," myself agreed with me. "Unless that means you've been nuts all along." "I don't need wiseass remarks," I told myself severely. "There's work to do. So shut up.
Princess. By S. Morgenstern. It's a kids' classic. Tell him I'll quiz him on it when I'm back next week and that he doesn't have to like it or anything, but if he doesn't, tell him I'll kill myself. Give him that message exactly please; I wouldn't want to apply any extra pressure or anything.
He's gaining on us," the Turk said. "That is also inconceivable," the Sicilian said. "Before I stole this boat we're in, I made many inquiries as to what was the fastest ship on all of Florin Channel and everyone agreed it was this one." "You're right," the Turk agreed, staring back. "He isn't gaining on us. He's just getting closer, that's all.
For a moment the rank felt as though they had just returned from single-handedly conquering a distant province. They felt, in fact, tremendously bucked-up, which was how Lady Ramkin would almost certainly have put it and which was definitely several letters of the alphabet away from how they normally felt.
I once met an RAF pilot who told me of what he called a "bird strike". This, rather unfairly in my view, made it sound as if it was the bird's fault; as if the little feathered chap had deliberately tried to head-butt twenty tons of metal travelling in the opposite direction at just under the speed of sound, out of spite.
Mummy can we keep him?" Madeleine asked with the wide eyes of a burgeoning crush."Darling, little boys make terrible pets," Mrs. Masterson offered with a wink."That's not true at all, Mummy. They're hypoallergenic, much easier than dogs," Madeleine said cheekily, "and they almost never have fleas.
They'd paid some madman who thought he was a decorator a lot of money to make the place look hip and unique. Maybe it's my lack of fashion sense talking, but I thought they should have held out for one of these gorillas who has learned to paint. The results would have been of similar quality, and they could have paid in fresh produce.
Nobody should have to put their boxers in a half rotted chest of drawers.”“Hey. I’ll have you know that the rustic look is very popular in the burbs.”“Rustic?” Chase snorted. “Is that your way of saying termite infested?”“This furniture does not have termites. Mice maybe, even moths, but not termites.”“Great, I can look forward to having a swiss cheese wardrobe.
Pray, what's the nature of his trouble?" Prudence asked solicitously."Oh, cursed bad news, my boy. That old aunt of his from whom he has expectations has rallied, and they say she'll last another ten years. Poor old Devereux, y'know! Must try and raise his spirits.
Mothers of America let your kids go to the movies! get them out of the house so they won't know what you're up to it's true that fresh air is good for the body but what about the soul that grows in darkness, embossed by silvery images and when you grow old as grow old you must they won't hate you
A woman calls from Seaview to say her linen closet is missing. Last September, her house had six bedrooms, two linen closets. She's sure of it. Now she's only got one. She comes to open her beach house for the summer. She drives out from the city with the kids and the nanny and the dog, and here they are with all heir luggage, and their towels are gone. Disappeared. Poof. Bermuda triangulated.
The fireworks continued to burn and spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much."Dear, dear," said Professor McGonagall sardonically, as one of the dragons soared around her classroom, emitting loud bangs and exhaling flame. "Miss Brown, would you mind running along to the headmistress and informing her that we have an escaped firework in our classroom?""Thank you so much, Professor!" said Professor Flitwick in his squeaky little voice. "I could have got rid of the sparklers myself, of course, but I wasn't sure whether I had the authority..."Beaming, he closed the classroom door in Umbridge's snarling face.
Oh, that's just Thud! That's easy!" yapped a voice.Both men turned to look at Horsefry, who had been made perky by sheer relief."I used to play it when I was a kid," he burbled. It's boring. The dwarfs always win!"Gilt and Vetinari shared a look. It said: While I loathe you and every aspect of your personal philosophy to a depth unplummable by any line, I'll credit you at least with not being Crispin Horsefry.
What's your name?""What?" I asked, squinting at the light."Your name." I recognized Dr. Olendzki peering over me."You know my name.""I want you to tell me.""Rose. Rose Hathaway.""Do you know your birthday?""Of course I do. Why are you asking me such stupid things? Did you lose my records?"Dr. Olendzki gave an exasperated sigh and walked off.
A table for TONIGHT should certainly have been booked years before-perhaps, it was implied, by Richard's parents. A table for TONIGHT was impossible: if the pope, the prime minister, and the president of France arrived this evening without a confirmed reservation, even they would be turned out into the street with a continental jeer.
And are you going to explain why you consider competing with me to be the most sincere form of compliment?” “Of course I am,” Lightsong said. “My dear, have you ever known me to make an inflammatorily ridiculous statement without providing an equally ridiculous explanation to substantiate it?” “Of course not,” she agreed. “You are nothing if not exhaustive in your self-congratulatory made-up logic.” “I am rather exceptional in that regard.
Loeser's favourite book in Blimk's shop, where he spent most of his afternoons, was still Dames! And how to Lay them. He referred to it constantly, like a psalter, with an inexhaustible excitement at the notion that it was possible to seduce a woman just by following a rigorous system of instructions. The problem was, there wasn't much in it that he felt he could put to practical use. 'Want to impress a dame with morning after the night before? Run to the kitchen while she's still snoozing fit to bust, and come back with what I like to call the Egg Majestique. That's one of every type of egg on a tray: a soft-boiled egg, a hard-boiled egg, an egg over easy, an egg sunny side up, a poached egg, a devilled egg, a pickled egg, a coddled egg, a scrambled egg, a one-egg omelette, and a shot of egg nog for the hangover. No dame will be able to believe you know so many ways to cook eggs. Egg protein is good for the manly function, and after you've pulled off the Egg Majestique, you'll probably need it, if you know what I mean.' This sounded pretty authoritative to Loeser but he just wasn't quite sure.
To exemplify, -a beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with original strength, has outlived all the storms of autumn. Not a puncture, not a weak spot any where. -This nut... while so many of its brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, is still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel-nut can be supposed capable of.
So...have you ever thought about dyeing your hair punk-rocker-chick black? As I'm sure you've heard, I have a thing for brunettes and always avoid blondes." "I've heard. And no." "Too bad. Because you're making me rethink my stance about doing my friends' exes." I snorted, not even trying to hide my...incredulity? Surely I wasn't amused. "Your making me rethink my stance on cold-blooded homicide
The on and off thing is kind of annoying, isn't it? First with Cole, now with Gavin. "Maybe you need a tune up." I rolled my eyes. "I'll just pop into the supernatural ability repair shop sometime tomorrow." He grinned, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw.
Who's going to take care of it? You?. . . Son, you came in the house yesterday with sh*t on your hands. Humansh*t. I don't know how that happened, but if someone has shit on their hands, it's an indicator that maybe the whole responsibility thing isn't for them. -Dad
For a time he read his Neil Diamond bible by the firelight. He paused, twisting nervously at his goatee, considering the law in Deuteronomy that forbade clothes with mixed fibers. A problematic bit of Scripture. A matter that required thought."Only the devil wants man to have a wide range of lightweight and comfortable styles to choose from," he murmured at last, trying out a new proverb. "Although there may be no forgiveness for polyester. On this matter, Satan and the Lord are in agreement.
If people fainted from too much thinking I’d scarcely ever be conscious,” Tabitha began at once. “I think and think all the time, and I’ve never fainted – not once.” She looked over at Barney enviously. “Why do the best things always happen to other people and not to a promising writer?
[Artemis] returned to the aft bay for Mulch's version of a briefing. The dwarf had drawn a crude diagram on a backlit wall panel. In fairness, there were more artistic chimpanzees. And less pungent ones. Mulch was using a carrot as a pointer, or more accurately, several carrots. Dwarfs liked carrots. 'This is Koboi Labs,' He mumbled around a mouthful of vegetable. 'That?' exclaimed Root. 'I realize, Julius, that it is not an accurate schematic.'The Commander exploded from his chair. 'An accurate schematic? It's a rectangle for heaven's sake!'Mulch was unperturbed. 'That's not important. This is the important bit.' 'That wobbly line?' 'It's a fissure,' pouted the dwarf. 'Anybody can see that.''Anybody in kindergarten maybe. So it's a fissure, so what?''This is the clever bit. Y'see that fissure is not usually there.'Root began strangling the air again. Something he was doing more and more lately.
Indeed! I am truly glad to hear it. I always always fond of Osborne; and, do you know, I never really took to Roger; I respected him and all that, of course. But to compare him with Mr. Henderson! Mr. Henderson is so handsome and well-bred, and gets all his gloves from Houbigant!
I think that I was too self-centered to ever develop good skills as a peacemaker. In my younger days, I assumed that it was because I was smarter than everyone else, with no patience for explaining things in short words for mouthbreathers who just didn't get it.
I really am a little afraid, my dear,” hinted the cherub meekly, “that you are not enjoying yourself?”“On the contrary,” returned Mrs. Wilfer, “quite so. Why should I not?”“I thought, my dear, that perhaps your face might—““My face might be a martyrdom, but what would that import, or who should know it, if I smiled?”And she did smile; manifestly freezing the blood of Mr. George Sampson by so doing. For that young gentleman, catching her smiling eye, was so very much appalled by its expression as to cast about in his thoughts concerning what he had done to bring it down upon himself.
Save yourselves!" Percy warned. "It is too late for us!" Then he gasped and pointed to the spot where Frank was hiding. "oh no! Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin!" Nothing happened. "I said," Percy repeated, "Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin." Frank stumbled out of nowhere, making a big show of grabbing his throat. "oh no," he said, like he was reading from a teleprompter, "I am turning into a crazy dolphin.
Listen up, Mount High-Hair," Gustav barked. "Say what you want about me, but lay off the rest of the team. I've been through a lot of stuff with these people. Nobody can tell me that Fancy Dancer and Lady Slick-Pants aren't heroes. Captain Gloom-Cape over there, too. And even Shrimp Charming has his moments." Briar leaned back in her chair. "I admire your ability to insult your friends *while* you defend them. It's a rare talent.
Bast crouched down and began making weird chittering noises. Uh-oh. She was imitating birds. I'd seen enough cats do this when they were stalking. Suddenly my own obituary flashed in my head: Carter Kane, 14, tragically died in Paris wen he was eaten by his sister's cat, Muffin.
One thing I’d realized in the last year was that there were some things no one could give you permission to do. All the same, it didn’t mean you couldn’t or shouldn’t do them— particularly when it came to the big things, like saving the world, or journeying to a supernatural seam between realities, or bringing your boyfriend back from the dead.
May we do it again? She sounds remarkably bright and cheerful. 'And I didn't bleed. My mother said I would experience great agony.''Half an hour.''I beg your pardon? Your mumbling.'Eyes closed, I attempt to enunciate a little more clearly. 'In half an hour or so. Probably. And your mother was misinformed.''What am I suppose to do in the meantime?''Oh. Read a Sermon. Embroider something
Being a monk was the strangest and most perverted way of life imaginable. Monks spent half their lives putting themselves through pain and discomfort that they could easily avoid, and the other half muttering meaningless mumbo jumbo in empty churches at all hours of the day and night. They deliberately shunned anything good—girls, sports, feasting and family life.
... It wasn't my finest moment, but I rolled my eyes and actually huffed. "Fine, don't answer. I don't even know why I asked.""No, I am not having sex with anyone.""Oh." I shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason his response filled me with glee. It was as if a unicorn had appeared beneath a double rainbow and started tap dancing.
Two gorgeous guys slaving in the kitchen. Doesn't get any better than this.''You have low standards,' Chait grinned over his shoulder and dropped bread into the toaster. 'If I had two hot girls in my kitchen, I'd want them naked.' I stood immobile, seeing Chait and Hayden in my minds eye. Naked, cooking for me.Hayden glanced my way and chuckled as I dashed away.
Our guy has a property office, John. And I don't mean the Property Office here in One PP. I mean the huge fucking storage facility. A guy in there, with access to thousands of fucking handguns. Even the ones that other people would be keeping an eye on, like Son of Sam's piece, for fuck's sake - a guy in there who'll just boost them and give them to our guy to kill people with. And if the guns are too famous, he'll cut his own slugs out of the bodies and walk away. This guy, our guy, he's actually starting to scare me a bit right now.""A couple of hundred kills to his name didn't do that?""Meh. I dream about killing two hundred people every fucking night.""You know," said Tallow, "whenever I'm in danger of forgetting you're CSU, you always find a way to remind me.
Sophie raised her head. Light filtering through the trees dappled her face. “Hawk.”Charlotte looked up as well. A bird of prey soared above the treetops, circling around them.“It’s dead,” Sophie said. “George is guiding it. He is very powerful.”The realization washed over Charlotte in a cold gush of embarrassment. “Is George spying on Richard and me?”“Always,” Sophie said. “All those perfect manners are a sham. He spies on everyone and everything. Declan hasn’t been able to conduct a single business meeting in the past year without George’s knowing all the details. He does let go when you make love. He is a prude.”“‘Prude’ is a coarse word. He has a sense of tact,” Charlotte corrected before she caught herself.“A sense of tact,” Sophie repeated, tasting the words. “Thank you. The other one is somewhere around here, too.”“The other one?”Sophie surveyed the woods. “I can smell you, Jack!”“No, you can’t,” a distant voice answered
You have a visitor, my lord." I frowned, "What?" "That is why I came in here. You have a visitor waiting for you." I stood up, exasperated. "Why didn't you say so?" Lacuna looked confused. "I did. Just now. You were there." She frowned thoughtfully. "Perhaps you have brain damage." "It would not shock me in the least," I said."Would you like me to cut open your skull and check, my lord?" she asked. Someone that short should not be that disturbing.
I'm going to use them to track him down and thwart him." "Thwart?" Sarissa asked."Thwart." I said. "To prevent someone from accomplishing something by means of visiting gratuitous violence upon his smarmy person.""I'm pretty sure that isn't the definition," Sarissa said."It is today.
I'm not helping any of you freaks!" she shouts. "I'm not the Witch of Wayland, you hear me? I'm sick of all you mutants pounding on my door for love spells and all the like! I told you, I don't do that backwoods modern-day, wannabe Wiccafuck stuff! You hear me?
People don't tend to employ me. I'm the wrong personality type. Or rather, people do tend to employ me for a short time and then they sack me. A film broker once told me, as she terminated my contract, that I have a misleading sort of face. "You're pretty", she complained. "Your features are symmetrical and there was an article in Grazia that says human beings are programmed to find those with symmetrical features more pleasing to they eye. So this isn't my fault, I was simply responding to a biological imperative. You've even teeth, so when you smile, you look...sweet, I suppose. But you're not, are you?""I hope not," I said."You see, there you go again. You're a smart-arse and you've no ability to filter your thoughts---""And my thoughts are often abrasive.""Exactly.""I'll just get my brushes and sponges and leave.""If you would.
I need you to get inside Wayne's head. I need someone who thinks a bit left field and in your own unpleasant way, Helen Walsh, you're a genius.He had a point. I'm lazy and illogical. I've limited people skills. I'm easily bored and easily irritated. But I have moments of brilliance. They come and they go and I can't depend on them but they do happen.
Sorry," I said. There was little healing power in the word, but maybe the Inspectre wasn't looking to heal. Maybe he didn't want someone to fix it. It had been broken too long for me to think anything I said would actually help. It was like trying to put a Band-Aid on a shark bite. Sometimes people just needed to vent and get it out of their system.
He would not object, he said, to accepting a post as a librarian. But as Cecilia was unable to imagine that her father or her brother would feel any marked degree of satisfaction in giving her in marriage to a librarian, this very handsome concession on Mr Fawnhope's part merely added to her despondency.
Quadruple crap. Why couldn’t I control myself? Why did he have this effect on me? “Are you compelling me right now?”To my surprise, his smile held an edge of sadness. “That would give you a much needed excuse, but I am afraid I am not.”Curse my body for reacting to his. As long as I kept him out of my heart, I would be okay.“I think it a bit too late for that, my dear.”“You’re using old man speak again.” I made a face. “It’s creepy.”He chuckled. “I’ll try to remember that, but I haven’t been around humans much in the past hundred years. It’s hard to keep up with the changes in common dialect.”“Let’s keep on topic, Jett. You were going to teach me how to control my mind.
His attention caught, her companion raised his eyes from the book which lay open beside him on the table and directed them upon her in a look of aloof enquiry. 'What's that? Did you say something to me, Venetia?''Yes, love,' responded his sister cheerfully, 'but it wasn't of the least consequence, and in any event I answered for you. You would be astonished, I daresay, if you knew what interesting conversations I enjoy with myself.
John and I have made this stuff our hobby, in the way that an especially attractive prisoner makes a hobby out of not getting raped. Jesus, that’s a terrible analogy. I apologize. What I’m saying is that it’s self-preservation. We didn’t choose this, we just have talents that makes us the equivalent of that new guy in the cell block who has a slim, hairless body and kind of looks like a woman from behind, and has an incredibly realistic tattoo of boobs on his back. He may have no desire at all to ever even touch a penis, but it’s going to happen, even if it’s just in the process of frantically slapping them away. Jesus, am I still talking about this? [John—please delete the above paragraph before it goes off to the publisher].
Kalina remained paralyzed in her seat. “Oh, crap. Aaron was a vampire.” She straightened up. Remain calm, Kalina. Breathe. “You're not going to eat me, are you?”“No,” said Stuart. “Not all vampires feed on humans. I choose not to. I drink Vampire Wine.”“Vampire Wine.” Kalina put the pieces together. “Jaegar...I thought he was kidding...”“And Aaron drank Vampire Wine, too. To avoid succumbing to temptation. To avoid drinking blood whenever he got too...excited....”Kalina's eyes widened. “So you mean...”“Vampire Wine wasn't the problem, Kalina. It was the only solution.
There lived a redheaded man who had no eyes or ears. He didn’t have hair either, so he was called a redhead arbitrarily. He couldn’t talk because he had no mouth. He had no nose either. He didn’t even have arms or legs. He had no stomach, he had no back, he had no spine, and he had no innards at all. He didn’t have anything. So we don’t even know who we’re talking about. It’s better that we don’t talk about him any more.
Asshole," Ephraim muttered as he turned back around.Chris chuckeled. "Is that really any way to talk to your favorite child?""You're not my favorite," Ephraim argued, but they both knew that was bullshit. "I don't have any favorites.""Puhlease," Chris said. "You fucking adore me...
Why in the name of God do you wear these ugly ass granny panties? I swear it looks like you could parachute from the Dallas Lincoln Plaza with these and have a nice soft landing! Why don’t you get on the internet and apply your online shopping skills while purchasing some panties that do not look like they came from your Grans drawer?
You should go." "I can't." "Because you want to stare at the monster?" Alec's green eyes blaze, but with a wholly human fire now. "Or because you pity me?" I couldn't guess which possibility he loathes more. I fold my arms. "I can't leave because the door's locked. Believe me, I would've gone hours ago if I could have." "Oh. Of course." Then he looks so abashed--so boyish, and so handsome--that I almost want to laugh.
Listen carefully, Lucas Steele, because I will only say this once. I am NOT your mate, I will never be your mate, and if you ever put your hands on me again I will cut them off along with other body parts you might want to use one day. Got it?" Jacque told him with as much force as she could put behind her words.
It would take more than long-stemmed roses to change my view that you're a despicable cowardy custard and a disgrace to a proud family. Your ancestors fought in the Crusades and were often mentioned in despatches, and you cringe like a salted snail at the thought of appearing as Santa Claus before an audience of charming children who wouldn't hurt a fly. It's enough to make an aunt turn her face to the wall and give up the struggle.
He dragged me back - just in time. A tree had crashed down on to the side walk, just missing us. Poirot stared at it, pale and upset. "It was a near thing that! But clumsy, all the same - for I had no suspicion - at least hardly any suspicion. Yes, but for my quick eyes, the eyes of a cat, Hercule Poirot might now be crushed out of existence - a terrible calamity for the world. And you, too, mon ami - though that would not be such a national catastrophe." "Thank you," I said coldly.
What do they say about meeting a bear in the woods? Oh right, you shouldn't. And to make sure you don't, you should make a lot of noise so that they'll will know where you are and keep their distance because, supposedly, they're as nervous of us as we are of them. Which is all goo, except this bear doesn't seem the least bit nervous. He's giving me a look like I'm Goldilocks, ate his porridge, broke his chair, slept in his bed, and now it's payback time."- Widdershins
Where did you get that assault weapon?""Assault weapon?" Zach turned his head to look at her. "Well, lookey there. You're cute when you blush."Maddie's face grew hotter, but at least he'd mistaken the reason for her embarrassment.Zach turned his face back toward the ceiling. "That there's standard equipment, darlin'.""There's nothing standard about that.""I didn't hear you complaining.""Of course not. You sprang it on me when I was mentally incompetent."Zach laughed out loud. "That you were, sweet Maddie that you were." Maddie and Zach
Are you by any chance acquainted with the words 'steel toe'? Or do the words 'permanent dent' mean anything to you?"My locker door is not intimidated. "My grandfather was a vault at Fort Knox, and if you try to dent me with a kick you will only tear some ligament that will never mend.
What do you mean, is that it? I just saved his career and the CIA from ruin and he calls me a perfidious ass.""What's perfidious mean?" Ace asked from the driver's seat."You deceived him and stole his girlfriend out from under his nose," Julia said to Conrad. "I think technically 'ass' is a pretty mild revilement.""Revilement?" Ace looked at one and then the other in his rearview. "This is some kind of spy talk, isn't it? Okay, I'm down with it. Just tell me what it means.
He done his level best.Was he a mining on the flat..He done it with a zest..Was he a leading of the choir..He done his level best.If he'd a reg'lar task to do,He never took no rest..Or if 'twas off and on the same..He done his level best.If he was preachin' on his beat,He'd tramp from east to west,And north to south ..in cold and heat..He done his level best.He'd Yank a sinner outen (Hades),And land him with the blest;Then snatch a prayer'n waltz in again,And do his level best.He'd cuss and sing and howl and pray,And dance and drink and jest,He done his level best.Whate'er this man was sot to doHe done it with a zest;No matter what his contract was,He'd do his level best...
As Stephanie and Lula were going after the bad guys, Lula was making preparations from the trunk of her Firebird. Stephanie looked inside and stopped breathing for a beat. "That's a rocket launcher!" "Yep," Lula said. "It's a big boy. I got it at a yard sale in the projects.
That’s crazy,” Gabriel said. “We must be seventy million years in the past.”“Nearly a hundred and twenty-five million,” Ohin said. “It seems far, but time is really interrelational. Every moment is just as far from every other.“Right,” Gabriel said. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.” Sema was right. He was at a breaking point. And he broke right past it. His eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out, falling back into the mattress of the bed.
The surgeon tells me that you're a sorcerer," Pym said. "Is that so?"Jaki looked to the captain with the glare of the masts in his eyes. "Yes."Pym weighed this disclosure. "You speak with the dead?""Yes."The captain's eyes screwed up intently. "What do they say to you?""They don't talk back."Pym and Mister Blackheart laughed in unison...The captain said, "Mister Blackheart wants to know what kind of sorcerer you are."Jaki pondered a response and finally said, "I was learning to catch souls before my teacher was killed.""Souls, eh? And what do you do with them after you catch them?""I put them back in their bodies.""Ah, then you're telling us you're a surgeon.
Shayna thinking about Jensen:" ....From my first glance I knew he was atleast three or four inches taller than me and I could tell his lightweight sweater hid a well muscled chest and arms, but lean, not meaty. I was aware of an excess of saliva in my mouth and forced myself to swallow, trying not to blush when I heard Jodi snicker quietly next to me.
The lieutenant’s fooling around again with the telegraph girl at the station,” said the corporal, after he had gone. “He’s been running after her for a fortnight and he’s always frightfully furious when he comes from the telegraph office and he says about her: “She’s a whore. She won’t sleep with me!
In my opinion, the person who created the torture device called gym class should be clobbered with an enormous frozen cucumber. Not to mention, the person who decided it would be a great idea to schedule me in first period gym every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday also deserves a heavy-handed whacking with the same frozen cucumber.
Renee: “The Greek government doesn’t know that I found anything that day in the temple. And they for sure wouldn’t want to know about the little mess I left behind.” She grimaced.Trout: “Little mess? You started a freakin’ cave in, you moron. Nice work by the way. Way to keep up international relations. ‘Uh, yeah, hi, I’m Renée, I’m an American. I’m here to, you know, like, drink all your wine, trash the joint, steal all your valuable shit and then bolt the country.’ Why didn’t you just drop your shorts and pee in the Parthenon?
I dinnae get people, like they all want to be watched, to be seen, like all the time. They put up their pictures online and let people they dinnae like look at them! And people they’ve never met as well, and they all pretend tae be shinier than they are – and some are even posting on like four sites; their bosses are watching them at work, the cameras watch them on the bus, and on the train, and in Boots, and even outside the chip shop. Then even at home – they’re going online to look and see who they can watch, and to check who’s watching them!
You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you?” he murmured.“No.”His chuckle rasped over her senses. “I like begging, Reagan.”“I’m not going to beg.”He was silent for a moment, his fingers still playing, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Then he said softly, “Damn.
Mr Kingsley begins then by exclaiming- 'O the chicanery, the wholesale fraud, the vile hypocrisy, the conscience-killing tyranny of Rome! We have not far to seek for an evidence of it. There's Father Newman to wit: one living specimen is worth a hundred dead ones. He, a Priest writing of Priests, tells us that lying is never any harm.'I interpose: 'You are taking a most extraordinary liberty with my name. If I have said this, tell me when and where.'Mr Kingsley replies: 'You said it, Reverend Sir, in a Sermon which you preached, when a Protestant, as Vicar of St Mary's, and published in 1844; and I could read you a very salutary lecture on the effects which that Sermon had at the time on my own opinion of you.'I make answer: 'Oh...NOT, it seems, as a Priest speaking of Priests-but let us have the passage.'Mr Kingsley relaxes: 'Do you know, I like your TONE. From your TONE I rejoice, greatly rejoice, to be able to believe that you did not mean what you said.'I rejoin: 'MEAN it! I maintain I never SAID it, whether as a Protestant or as a Catholic.'Mr Kingsley replies: 'I waive that point.'I object: 'Is it possible! What? waive the main question! I either said it or I didn't. You have made a monstrous charge against me; direct, distinct, public. You are bound to prove it as directly, as distinctly, as publicly-or to own you can't.''Well,' says Mr Kingsley, 'if you are quite sure you did not say it, I'll take your word for it; I really will.'My WORD! I am dumb. Somehow I thought that it was my WORD that happened to be on trial. The WORD of a Professor of lying, that he does not lie!But Mr Kingsley reassures me: 'We are both gentlemen,' he says: 'I have done as much as one English gentleman can expect from another.'I begin to see: he thought me a gentleman at the very time he said I taught lying on system...
Her Majesty to the theatre. The performance took place on a stage erected in the courtyard, and Her Majesty closed in one part of her veranda for the use of the guests and Court ladies. During the performance I began to feel very drowsy, and eventually fell fast asleep leaning against one of the pillars. I awoke rather suddenly to find that something had been dropped into my mouth, but on investigation I found it was nothing worse than a piece of candy, which I immediately proceeded to eat. On approaching Her Majesty, she asked me how I had enjoyed the candy, and told me not to sleep, but to have a good time like the rest. I never saw Her Majesty in better humor. She played with us just like a young girl, and one could hardly recognize in her the severe Empress Dowager we knew her to be.
One day in 1948 or 1949, the Brentwood County Mart, a shopping complex in an upscale neighborhood of Los Angeles, California, was the scene of a slight disturbance that carried overtones of the most spectacular upheaval in twientieth-century music. Marta Feuchtwanger, wife of émigré novelist Lion Feuchtwanger, was examining grapefruit in the produce section when she heard a voice shouting German from the far end of the aisle. She looked up to see Arnold Schoenberg, the pioneer of atonal music and the codifier of twelve-tone composition, bearing down on her, with his bald pate and burning eyes. Decades later, in conversation with the writer Lawrence Weschler, Feuchtwanger could recall every detail of the encounter, including the weight of the grapefruit in her hand. “Lies, Frau Marta, lies!” Schoenberg was yelling. “You have to know, I never had syphilis!
The eccentric passion of Shankly was underlined for me by my England team-mate Roger Hunt's version of the classic tale of the Liverpool manager's pre-game talk before playing Manchester United. The story has probably been told a thousand times in and out of football, and each time you hear it there are different details, but when Roger told it the occasion was still fresh in his mind and I've always believed it to be the definitive account. It was later on the same day, as Roger and I travelled together to report for England duty, after we had played our bruising match at Anfield. Ian St John had scored the winner, then squared up to Denis Law, with Nobby finally sealing the mood of the afternoon by giving the Kop the 'V' sign. After settling down in our railway carriage, Roger said, 'You may have lost today, but you would have been pleased with yourself before the game. Shanks mentioned you in the team talk. When he says anything positive about the opposition, normally he never singles out players.' According to Roger, Shankly burst into the dressing room in his usual aggressive style and said, 'We're playing Manchester United this afternoon, and really it's an insult that we have to let them on to our field because we are superior to them in every department, but they are in the league so I suppose we have to play them. In goal Dunne is hopeless- he never knows where he is going. At right back Brennan is a straw- any wind will blow him over. Foulkes the centre half kicks the ball anywhere. On the left Tony Dunne is fast but he only has one foot. Crerand couldn't beat a tortoise. It's true David Herd has got a fantastic shot, but if Ronnie Yeats can point him in the right direction he's likely to score for us. So there you are, Manchester United, useless...'Apparently it was at this point the Liverpool winger Ian Callaghan, who was never known to whisper a single word on such occasions, asked, 'What about Best, Law and Charlton, boss?'Shankly paused, narrowed his eyes, and said, 'What are you saying to me, Callaghan? I hope you're not saying we cannot play three men.
Darcy rolled the quill between his fingers and looked with benign pity upon his cousin. “You should, you know. It’s a wonderful feeling to be the head of your home, with a wife who adores you and whom you adore in return.”Fitzwilliam whipped out his pocket watch. “Oh, look at that. I have to run."Ignoring him, Darcy turned his face to the fire, a besotted look in his eyes and a smile on his lips. “It’s a good feeling to care for your family and their well-being. It makes you finally grow up, I can tell you.” He sighed deeply and began attacking his figures once more, his mind filled with unlimited love and joy, thinking on his upcoming paternal responsibilities. “I myself find women to be unbelievably wonderful creations.”“I suppose you will continue with this treacle even as I beg you to stop.”“Well, think about it…” Darcy continued, looking up from his work.Fitzwilliam groaned.“They give back to you double and triple whatever little you hand them.”“I think I’m going to be ill, Darcy. Please stop.”“You hand them disparate items of food, and they give you back a wonderful meal. You provide them with four walls and a floor, and they give you back a loving home. You give them your seed,” Darcy’s eyes misted, his voice choked with emotion. “You give them your seed, and they give you back the most precious thing of all—a child…” They sat in silence together.“And God help you if you give them shit.” Fitzwilliam was calmly packing tobacco into his pipe, and his eyes met Darcy’s for a moment. Understanding flashed between them.“Amen to that, Cousin.” Darcy crashed down to earth, quickly resuming his work
David: “How the hell did you get dressed so fast?”Renee: “How do you know I didn’t streak naked through the lobby and had clothes waiting for me in the car?” David: “Heh. Good thing the archaeological paparazzi didn’t have a team on duty.”Renee: “I’d have taken ’em out. My whole body is a weapon.
Darcy’s hand suddenly rammed angrily into a bowl of fruit and grasped an innocent, unsuspecting orange. “Enough. The woman is demented. Our marriage is simply something to which she must become adjusted. She insulted Elizabeth and her family, and in so doing, she insulted me.” With an expression as black as pitch, Darcy commenced to vivisecting the orange. By the time he finished with said orange, it was completely dead, thoroughly dead, with no semblance remaining of its prior orange existence.
Chris smiled at me, showing two ridiculously cute dimples and a few feet away a waitress dropped an empty cup she had cleared from a table. Blushing, she muttered an apology and hurried inside.I scowled at him, refusing to be swayed by his charm.“I see,” he murmured, nodding slightly as if he had just solved a puzzle.“See what?” Ignoring my question, he pulled out a cell phone, hit a number and held the phone out to me. I hesitated for a few seconds then took the phone and put it to my ear.“What’s up, Chris?” said a familiar deep voice on the other end.“Good question,” I responded tersely.“I told Chris you’d recognize him if he got too close.” Was that amusement in his tone?“Great. You won the bet. Buy him a beer or whatever.” I glanced at Chris, saw that he looked amused now, too and I grew even more agitated. “I thought we had an understanding when you left here last week.”“And what understanding would that be?” I gritted my teeth. “The one where you go your way and I go mine and we all live happily ever after.”“I don’t recall that particular arrangement,” he replied in his infuriatingly easy manner. “I believe I told you I’d be seeing you again.”I opened my mouth but words would not come out. People say ‘I’ll be seeing you’ all the time when they say good bye. It doesn’t mean anything. It certainly doesn’t mean they will send their friends to stalk you.“Sara?”“What do you want from me, Nikolas? I told you I just want to be left alone.”There was a brief silence then a quiet sigh on the other end. “We got word of increased activity in Portland and we have reason to believe the vampire might be searching for you.”It felt like an icy breath touched the back of my neck. Eli’s face flashed through my mind and my knees wobbled.Roland stepped close to me. “What’s wrong, Sara? What is he saying to you?”I smiled weakly at Roland and put up a hand to let him know I’d fill him in when I got off the phone. “I don’t know anyone in Portland so there is no way he can trace me here, right?”“There is more than one way to track someone.” Nikolas’s voice hardened. “Don’t worry, we will keep you safe. Chris will stay close by until we handle this situation.”Great, I was the ‘situation’ again. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not a child.”“No you’re not,” he replied gruffly and warmth unfurled in my stomach. “But you are not a warrior either. It is our duty to protect you even if you don’t want it.”I felt like stomping my feet like a two year old. Didn’t I get any choice in this? My eyes fell on Chris as I spoke. “How close is he planning to stay? He’s kind of conspicuous and I can’t have my uncle or anyone else asking questions.”Chris peered in confusion down at his form-fitting blue jeans and black sweater as Nikolas said, “Conspicuous?”I looked heavenward. “If you guys wanted to blend in you shouldn’t have sent Dimples here. The way some of the women are staring at him, I might end up having to protect him instead.”There was a cough on the other end and Nikolas sounded like he was grinning when he said, “Ah, I’m sure Chris can take care of himself. He will be in town in case we suspect any trouble is coming that way.
Alright. So how are we getting down there? Can you turn invisible or something?”“What do I look like? A magician?”“Well, can you fight?”“Can you?”“No,” said Thalcu with a sad laugh. “Zonbiri women aren’t allowed to handle anything bigger than a butter knife. Not legally, anyway. Besides, I could never shoot a gun. My hands are used to pushing remote control buttons, pounding game controllers . . . picking the good chips from the bag.
But what do you care about Qorlec?” went on Dr. Zorgone. “I heard you escaped Alsa Sif V, and immediately upon your departure,” he frowned, “you set coordinates for Earth?” He laughed softly, nastily, and Quinn felt anger shiver through her to see the twinkling mockery in his eyes. “What would your people think to know that, I wonder?” continued Dr. Zorgone, tilting his head. “The first place you ran to wasn’t Qorlec, wasn’t the ancient home of your ‘mighty’ ancestors, but the polluted shit-ball of ape people? The true home of the true empress is Earth.” His eyes danced over her, searching, hungry. “You speak Roknal and English fluently, but I bet you don’t know a damn lick of Aviye. The entirian princess isn’t even entirian --”“What do you want?” Quinn said abruptly.“What do I want?” repeated Dr. Zorgone, rolling his eyes to the starry sky. “Let’s see . . . What do I want? I always wanted an indoor pool.”Quinn’s lips tightened.
There’s no point running anyway. In t-minus ten minutes, you will have no where to run to.”Quinn tensed at the triumphant look in his eyes. “. . .what have you done?”“I have entered launch codes in the computer. In exactly ten minutes, Alpha Star 9 will be a black stain in the middle of Utah.”Quinn’s lips part in shock.“Yes,” said. Dr. Zorgone in amusement. “Dramatic gasp!
McDonald, who was known to hate policemen, was once approached by two cops for a two-dollar donation. “We’re burying a policeman,” one of them said, to which Mike responded, “Here’s ten dollars. Bury five of them.
Clarence Hurt was driving, and he got lost. “Does anyone know where the Post Office Building is?” Hurt asked at one point. “I can tell you,” Karpis said. “How do you know where it is?” asked Clyde Tolson, who sat in the backseat with Hoover. “We were thinking of robbing it,” Karpis said.
World opinion, though sharply divided on nuclear tests and the risk of atmospheric pollution, could congratulate itself on being united in its opposition to cannibalism. No country in the world was prepared to support the custom of eating the dead, though the right of governments to kill people, individually or by hundreds of thousands, was not questioned for a moment.
Of course. Anyway, do you want to get together sometime this week? I haven’t seen your face in a few days; I’m starting to forget what you look like.” She snorted. “What a tragedy.” “I’m serious, let’s do something.” “You mean, like a date?” she asked skeptically. “Well I wasn’t going to give it an official title, but sure.” “I don’t know how to date.” This time, I snorted. “It’s easy, we decide on something to do, set a place and time, and then….we follow through with it. Sometimes food is involved.” “I like the sound of food.” “I thought you might. So, what do you say? Will you go on a date with me?” She had paused a few seconds before she spoke and for a second I actually thought she’d say no. “Okay, I will go on a date with you. But I expect food.
Excellent. Aristotle will introduce you to the employees at the desk,' Dr. Creamintin beamed.'What what? I shall do no such thing!" the fluffy little owl argued. 'Cease your complaining Aristotle. Until Dave and Frey return, you haven't any work to do. Now go introduce the poor girl,' Dr. Creamintin ordered. 'Nevah, I say, nevah!' the owl decided, shaking his little butt. 'Too bad, I say, too bad,' Dr. Creamintin mocked before snatching the little bird off his stand on Felisha's desk and throwing him out of the office.
If polar bears live at the North Pole, why doesn’t Santa use them to pull the sleigh?” Brogan asked, licking mustard off his thumb with the air of someone who thought they’d won the argument, which was dumb, because he never won. Embry was the uncontested champion of arguing in their house.“Are you high?” Embry asked. “Have you seen a fucking polar bear? There’s no way they’re as aerodynamic as reindeer.”“Polar bears make about as much sense as reindeer, seeing as neither of them can actually fly,” Brogan pointed out. “Polar bears are stronger, too. You’d only need half as many to get the job done.”“Polar bears aren’t pack animals. You’d never get all of them attached to the sleigh at once.”“Think how cool it would be, though. A whole troop of polar bears pulling a sleigh. There should be fire somewhere. A secondary propulsion system in case the bears get tired. Like a jet engine.” His eyes went wide with awe, presumably at his own genius. “There should be a jet engine, Embry.
After the new information had been sent out and everyone knew what was going on, Onmvar and Herilda went back to working but what happened next surprised them the most unlikely person to walk through their doors did, Jevlei Onmvar looked up “What brings you here?” Jevlei simply shrugged “I want to become a trainer.” he announced what!? “Who are you and what have you done with the real Jevlei!” Herilda shouted “I am being serious.” but Onmvar and Herilda were not taking this whole thing seriously at all.
Tate and Marty exchanged indignant looks. Tate pointed to the kitchen door behind Marty, then hooked a thumb at the back door and gave Marty a nod. Before Mel could figure out what they were up to, they were both lying on the floor of the kitchen, blocking the exits. “What is this? Occupy Fairy Tale Cupcakes?!” Angie asked. “What do you think you’re doing?” “We’re in protest mode.” Tate said. “We’re going to limp and we’re going to lie here until you agree to let us come along.” “Are you kidding me?” Mel asked. “What if I don’t give in? Are you going to hold your breath until you turn blue?” She watched Tate lift his head and look at Marty. He raised his eyebrows in silent question, and Marty gave him a small nod. “Thanks for the idea,” The kitchen door slammed into his side, and Marty grunted but still held his ground. The kitchen door didn’t budge. “Hey, the door is stuck,” Oz yelled from the other side.
This was different. He didn't want a woman. He wanted her. And he supposed that if he had to spend the afternoon being strange, sad, and disfigured just to be in her company, it would be well worth it. Then he remembered the wart. He turned to Miss Wynter and said firmly, "I am not getting a wart."Really, a man had to draw the line somewhere.
He started to hand her a fork but paused, glancing at her and then it, and back. Wariness narrowed his eyes."For real? Seriously?" She held out her hand, palm up. "What do you think? I'm going to try to prong you to death? I don't know who that would be more embarrassing for - you dying by fork or me needing to use something so silly to take you out.
Joe Lon and Willard slipped out of their shirts. Willard flipped over and walked around in the dirt on his hands. Joe Lon took the bottle of whiskey out of his back pocket, set it carefully on the step of the Winnebago, checking out Susan Gender's red pants again as he did. Then he went into a steady handstand and did six dips, his nose just short of the dirt each time he went down. They both came off their hands and looked at Duffy."I'm impressed," said Duffy, shortly. "What the hell are you, gymnasts?""Drunks," said Joe Lon picking up the bottle.
He started to hand her a fork but paused, glancing at her and then it, and back. "For real? Seriously?" She held out her hand, palm up. "What do you think? I'm going to try to prong you to death? I don't know who that would be more embarrassing for - you dying by fork or me needing to use something so silly to take you out.
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My second meeting with Vincent Starrett began on a cool Sunday afternoon in May of 1962. After a short interlude, he returned from the kitchen precariously balancing a large cup of tea on a very small saucer. It was the largest tea cup I had ever seen, large enough to startle, I am inclined to suspect, even the Mad Hatter in 'Alice in Wonderland.
Do you mean disrespectful? Blasphemous?" he asks. " Like Jesus, Jesus, bo-beesus, banana fanana fo-feesus, mo meesus...blasphemous to Jesus?" I just stand there like an idiot, not sure what to say to this strange man. He seems more of a wise guy than a wise man. After all, he just Name-Gamed a Third of the Trinity.
Add your typical shower and claw feetOwners claw foot tub, consider incorporating the most traditional sense of joy in the ease and comfort revolutionary shower, governments are mainly engaged in the race just to check in early for power within very ready. Clawfoot tubs wear’s now includes a shower; there are many strategies to use the shower in the bathroom now. Even if a person must be determined in those particular individual hairs, can be costly and impractical. Although the site has a separate shower grow, keep in mind that you want the products and save more modern maintenance. Value management easier and more efficient to add a shower curtain and bath address.The information is not expensive, there are some ideas that you can include in the acquired shower. Contractor or plumber can provide ideas and even to make for you. The original can take water heater shower bath in the direction of the feet and the creation of a rod with an en suite shower room, and when the curtain. Shower curtains apartment surrounded significantly reduces splash of water leaks. Another option would be surplus tiles on the long term, the use of H2O "enemy" and shower rod and curtain also furnished, "L" of the aspects described in determining the bath. What will be more expensive and bathroom alone for a long time, some people are afraid of this option.On the way to the drain in the shower, you could be the cables hidden in the bathroom near the wall. The second course in the HVAC responsible for pre-tube immediately describes the bath to the option in the direction of the traditional classical appearance. There are several different types of decorative lighting and lids which are made in such a way that appears to choose in the hoses pin and presented a lot of good taste on the market.For those who are willing to deal with their own tasks, traders improving the registered owner of the Depot and Lowe's contain a number of "do it yourself" kits are unique measurements. Such kits are barrels and other containers, as defined above use’s shower built for joint legs. Everything requires a few simple policies and lower resistance to the purchase is detected. This kind of "precursors" of the water, you can judge for yourself in the shower longitudinal shower, shower curtains and thoughts. If you take even more concerned that the easiest only independent bathroom each provider in the health of office workers only in the direction of the support of others and crank implementing rules. Have a good friend or spouse and children of a member who keep an eye on your health, as it is commonly known.No need for the resolution, that the decision to migrate to an item in the shower of his classic bathroom was somewhat effortlessly came to rise. It goes in the direction of maximizing claw foot tub, or take an impressive ease of use aerosol own desire. Many decisions wonderful shower curtain in the direction of the changes the rest of the room was coming towards a holistic view of their cosmetics, and a lot of fun to drive in the direction of your claw foot tub.
When just a kid, moved back to Canada and looking for a taste of England, I’d picked up a book of my Gram’s, a dog-eared romance from the ’sixties about English hospital ‘sisters’ trying to get it on with the doctors, and thought it very shocking behaviour for nuns.
I wonder why Steven wasn’t at swimming club tonight?” Archie asked. “He’s caught bronchitis,” Mrs Akran said. Imran thought for a second before replying. “I would like to catch a dinosaur too. I wonder what he feeds it?” Archie looked at his friend his face looked as if he was in pain before he burst out laughing. “Imran you’re tragic. Bronchitis is like a bad cold it’s not a type of dinosaur.
Both of you be safe," Nessa said, looking to Turner. "Welcome to my messed up home, by the way.""Messed up?" Turner asked. "They seem like a loving bunch, all willing to kill each other off. What's family if there isn't any drama?" Turner winked at Nessa, and she nodded in reply. Drama was what the sidhe were all about.
Oh. Dane. That's his name, right?" she asked. "He took our phones and put the shackles on us, but said we could use the phone on the table. I'm not sure if it's some kind of dominance posturing," she trailed off for a moment. "Actually yeah, having been around him for more than thirty seconds, I'm relatively certain that this is one hundred percent, testosterone-laden alpha male posturing. Is Jake like this?""I might be an idiot," I said, "but even I wouldn't fall for this sort of thing. A guy who goes to this length to seem awesome must have a dick the size of a gherkin.
If Yo Mama and Yo Daddy got a divorce, they'd still be brother and sister.
Yo Mama's like mustard, she spreads easy.
Yo Mama sucks so much d***, her lips went double platinum.
What’s the difference between Yo Mama and a 747?-About 20 pounds.-Yo mama carries more passengers.-Not everyone's been on a 747.
Yo Mama's like a library, open to the public.
Yo Mama's so fat, her ass has its own congressman!
Yo Mama's so fat her butt cheeks have different area codes.
It's not a remarkable note except for one thing. The typeface Tony used to print it is the exact typeface Kubrick used for the posters and title sequences of 'Eyes Wide Shut' and '2001'.'It's Futura Extra Bold,' explains Tony. 'It was Stanley's favorite typeface. It's sans serif. He liked Helvetica and Univers too. Clean and elegant.''Is this the kind of thing you and Kubrick used to talk about?' I asked.'God, yes,' says Tony. 'Sometimes late into the night. I was always trying to persuade him to turn away from them. But he was wedded to his sans serifs.
There was only one thing about his own appearance which really pleased Hercule Poirot, and that was the profusion of his moustaches, and the way they responded to grooming and treatment and trimming. They were magnificent. He knew of nobody else who had any moustache half as good.
If you’ve never been in a men’s room, and have only set foot in the ladies’ room at most fine (and not so fine) establishments, you need to know this: store owners hate men. No, really—this is the one area where women get treated better. We may earn seventy-seven cents on the dollar compared to men, but, by God, our public bathrooms don’t look like something out of a Soviet-era prison. Or worse—a Sochi hotel during the Olympics.
There is a safety mechanism in place [to ensure the perambulator doesn't turn back into a purse with a baby in it] : if anything weighing more than a pound and a half-about the weight of a three-volume novel-is in the carriage of the perambulator, it will not transform.
He may wear what he likes in the future, for I shall never drive with him again. His conduct was shocking. When we passed Highgate Archway, he tried to pass everything and everybody. He shouted to respectable people who were walking quietly in the road to get out of the way; he flicked at the horse of an old man who was riding, causing it to rear; and, as I had to ride backwards, I was compelled to face a gang of roughs in a donkey-cart, whom Lupin had chaffed, and who turned and followed us for nearly a mile, bellowing, indulging in coarse jokes and laughter, to say nothing of occasionally pelting us with orange-peel.
I told Sarah not to bring up the blanc-mange again for breakfast. It seems to have been placed on our table at every meal since Wednesday… In spite of my instructions, that blanc-mange was brought up again for supper. To make matters worse, there had been an attempt to disguise it, by placing it in a glass dish with jam round it...I told Carrie, when we were alone, if that blanc-mange were placed on the table again I should walk out of the house.
So what are you supposed to do with it?"He eyed her incredulously. "For real? It's called a butt plug. What do you think you're supposed to do with it?"She scratched her nose and nodded, trying not to let the apprehension show. "Okay. I'll do it. But if it hurts, just let me know and I'll take it out, stat. Don't be a hero."He gaped at her and shook his head. "Aw, no. Sweetie. That's not for me.
Raney flipped the book over and looked at the jacket cover, realized it was one of the books Bo had left at her house the first summer he'd been in Quentin--one of the few he hadn't read. "It's a novel, Grandpa. ENDER'S GAME by a man named Card. Orson Card," and she continued reading through the first page until he interrupted her again. "I just got out of the hospital--I don't want to hear a story about people having operations." "Well, what DO you want? LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE? "At least I'd learn something useful.
The Pepto?” I asked.“The Pepto,” he sighed and read the label. “Yes, the Pepto. This, yes. The candies. They’re in here. I found them, yes. I found them here. You. You were sleeping. I found these. They’re yours, yes? I want them. If I can have them. These. These Pepto. Oh… yes. If I can have them I’d be grateful, yes… I’d follow you. I’d follow you now until the day you die. From now until then, yes. I’d follow you and I would be your one true compatriot. The Don Quixote to your Sancho Panza, the Batman to your Robin, the Huckleberry Finn to your Nigger Jim. Yours. You. And… hm… yes. From then on I’d do what you ask of me. As your one true ally to do what you need. I’d be the best friend you have. Best. All I ask for, to be yours until forever, is that you bestow upon me these delightful morsels I have found of yours for my consumptive pleasure.”“Yes,” I said, not thinking twice. “Take it. Eat’em.”“Eat’em, great,” he said. “Yes. A strange name, but I like it. That’s what you will call me then. Eat’em. Thank you for this.
You have to come downstairs now!" panted Alice."What's wrong?""Everything! Izzy's floating, Melanie ran into the wall, my hand made a silver ball and Colleen smashed my keys though the wall!" Alice huffed."Wait, what? Slow down, I didn't catch a word you said," said Jenn."Come on!
Ruric clung to me and shouted, "Your father." Looking down below I saw my father running after us, several alarmed guards trailing him. As I watched, the High Lord's slight demon shape began to shimmer in a remarkable transformation that stretched him out and out and up into a huge and long, black serpentine dragon. It was a glorious sight, one I'd never thought to see. He launched himself gracefully into the air amidst shouted protests from his guards, a large dragon smile on his face that showed more free and delighted emotion than I'd ever seen on his face. ..."His poor guards. An eight-member team set out at a dead run after us. They must be having a hissy fit over my father taking off like that, alone, unguarded. Although I couldn't imagine what could possibly be of threat to a four-ton, fire-breathing dragon.
You can do this (this thing, where your body will cease to produce hormones and your skin, hair, muscles and bones... basically every part of you will notice, go into withdrawals, and stage a coup). Be prepared for this mentally, and you'll own this "thing.
Before we got married we asked our grandfathers, whose own marriages had lasted forty years or more, "What is the secret to a happy marriage? And they paused, looked down at their chicken salad, and said, 'You really have to like each other. After the attraction, you really have to like the person.'" ...our mothers tolds us...ask him how his day was. Take an interest in his profession.
It felt like an eternity before he gingerly lifted himself from the table and staggered backwards. Glass shards protruded from chest to groin. The guy looked like a bloody porcupine. A cute, tall bloody porcupine. I’m tall too. Five foot ten. But he had at least four inches on me, even with my thick-heeled boots.“What’s your name?” he slurred. While visions of reckless homicide charges danced in my head, I contemplated using an alias. Finally, I said my real name, “Sam.”“Nice to meet you, Sammers. I’m Jake,” he said.
It was the job of people like me to make up reasons, to spin a plausible yarn. And it’s amazing what people will believe. Heavy selling out of the Middle East was an old standby. Since no one ever had any clue what the Arabs were doing with their money or why, no story involving Arabs could ever be refuted. So if you didn’t know why the dollar was falling, you shouted out something about Arabs.
He shouted into the phone, “That is fuckin’ awesome. I mean fuckin’ awesome. I fuckin’ mean fucking awesome. You are one Big Swinging Dick, and don’t ever let anybody tell you different.” It brought tears to my eyes to hear it, to be called a Big Swinging Dick by the man who, years ago, had given birth to the distinction and in my mind had the greatest right to confer it upon me.
Buy potatoes,” he said. “Gotta hop.” Then he hung up. Of course. A cloud of fallout would threaten European food and water supplies, including the potato crop, placing a premium on uncontaminated American substitutes. Perhaps a few folks other than potato farmers think of the price of potatoes in America minutes after the explosion of a nuclear reactor in Russian, but I have never met them.
Allan praised Herbert for a job well done and for acting the part well. Herbert blushed, while dismissing the praise, saying it wasn't hard to play stupid when you are stupid. Allan said that he didn't know how hard it was, because the idiots Allan had met so far in his life had all tried to do the opposite.
if I decide to help you, I want only two things in return. Freedom for my people" - it was what he planned to bargin for all along, and one bargain was good as any other - "and possessiom of the girl.""I'm afraid she's not on the table," Blue eyes said."Of course she isn't on the table," he said confused. "She's right in front of you.
Sitting up, Jocelyn rolled her head from side to side. “Been better.” “Heard you’re a doctor now.” She grabbed the thermometer.“Yes, a veterinarian.”Placing her fist on her ample hip, Mia scoffed, “You go to that fancy school in Washington State and now you don’t eat meat?” “Good Lord! I’m not a vegetarian—
He stands confidently in his hot pink mankini. When I told him it was the only suit left, he literally shrugged and put it on. Tan skin, ripped abs and stylish wayfarers- he instantly looked cool even wearing that damn thing. And the girls playing water volleyball even gawked at his ass
Look, I wanted to mention something to you," I said. Play it off as casual. Play it off as no big deal. Be cool.Her lips curled up in an amused smile. "Okay?""You know what a horrible prankster Will can be." She nodded and I continued: "I may have just done something to get back at him and I swear," I said, resting a hand on her shoulder, "I swear, Hanna, you'll think it's hilarious... eventually.""Eventually?""Absolutely. Eventually."She considered me through narrowed eyes. "This is just a prank, right? No shaved heads or scars?"I pulled back to study her. "That was a very specific question. Scars?" I shook my head, clearing it. "And no, no, no, no. Just a silly little prank." I gave Hanna my best smile, the one Chloe said made panties drop. But apparently it only made Hanna more suspicious.Her eyes narrowed further. "What would I need to do?""Nothing," I said. "You'll probably see some weird stuff but just... go along with it.""So, basically be oblivious.""Exactly," I said."And this will be funny?""Hilarious."She thought about it for a full ten seconds before reaching out to shake my hand. "You're on.
What is even happening here?" Will said, looking to each of us and the back to wherever the cougars had wandered off to."Am I drunk? Hanna, they just pinched my ass and this one"- he motioned to George- "wants to claim me for his own. A little help?"Hanna took a drink off her frilly drink, complete with big pink umbrella and some sort of neon glow stick. "I don't know, you seem to be doing pretty well on your own there," she said, then took another long pull of her straw.
Asher taps his fingers on his lips and I catch Amy licking her own as she eyes his mouth. "What exactly are Rocky Mountain Oysters?" he asks her.I restrain a laugh as Amy's face twists in confusion."Well...I think they're kind of meat. I'm not sure what kind, but I like them." She presses the end of the pen against her chin.I shake my head at Asher. "You don't want those. Trust me.
McG: 11:39 PM: Tease. A: Bushy prehistoric looking veggies frighten me.Lilliana: 11:41 PM: WTH are we talking about here? McG: 11:42 PM: Fucking auto correct. VAGINAS! Bushy vaginas put the fear of God in me. Seriously, Lilly, if you’ve got one, groom that shit unless you want to see a grown alpha male curl into the fetal position and cry. It won’t be pretty. Just sayin
Where in the Bible are we told in one verse not to do a thing and in the next to do it?‘Answer not a fool according to his folly, lest thou also be like unto him.’ Prov. xxvi. 4.‘Answer a fool according to his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit.’ Prov. xxvi. 5.
Sherlock: They came out of EROC with $33 million dollars in small bills. They loaded their haul into an ambulance, American-made, in the late '90s. They haven't been gone more than an hour.Joan: The driver has a lazy eye, the other two met in basketball camp and one has canine lupus. You see how it feels? Just tell me how you know.Elementary Season 1Snow Angels
I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s something quite different about you, from the last time we were together, what could it be….”Was this my ultra-dose of Intoxicated taking effect?“I know!” said the prince happily. “You’re a national disgrace!”“And do you know what else is interesting,” I replied. “In America, Prince is a dog’s name.
I think I’m coming up on the ess curve, so I’m going to hang up and concentrate on driving. In the snow. Which wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow afternoon.Gee, Kels, I didn’t know you believed in the weatherman. Do you still believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy, too? How about the Easter Bunny?All right. Point taken.
Today was my forty-fifth birthday. Impending old age and a problem marriage were staring me in the face. Not a good place to be. I figured that right now, I had two choices — crawl out of the pit, or wallow and die. To wallow or not to wallow? That was the question. Look at Scarlett O’Hara. Did she cry and whine when Rhett walked out the door not giving a damn? Well, okay, she did. But not for long, I’ll bet. Not Scarlett. Same story here, baby, same story here.
In truth, he had always considered the sight of men eating croissants slightly ridiculous, especially at the beginning, when for the first bite they had to maneuver the point of the crescent into their mouths. No matter what a person did, he ended up with an asymmetrical mouthful of pastry, which he then had to relocate with his tongue to a more central location. This made him look less purposive than he might. Also, croissants were more apt than other breakfast foods to spray little flakes all over one’s clean dark suit. Art himself had accordingly never ordered a croissant in any working situation, and he believed that attention to this sort of detail was how it was that he had not lost his job like so many of his colleagues.
You may want to reconsider. Cheese sticks will take residency on your ass," I respond with a sarcastic smile, tilting my head to the side. "You would know," she snorts. "Actually, I wouldn't. I don't eat this shit since I see the tons of grease that it fries in every day. But be my guest, I'm sure you wouldn't mind adding to the cottage cheese factory on your thighs.
Jim: Green and red. (pulls on green lever which closes a door)Artie: Very impressive. (stops Jim from pulling the red lever). Uh...did it ever occur to you that red might mean danger?Jim: For instance?Artie: For instance, red for fire. Fire of explosion.Jim: What would they want to explode?Artie: Those who fool around with their levers.Wild Wild West Season 4Night of the Big Blackmail
God, I’ve just figured out what’s missing – you ditched the hallowed Albermarle Teddy Bear!’ I nodded. ‘Banished to a dark cupboard for all eternity.’ ‘You cold-hearted bastard.’ ‘Give me a hot water bottle any day. At least they have some appreciable function. Not like that pathetic pile of overpriced fake fur and anthropomorphic bullshit I locked in the wardrobe.’‘You have serious teddy bear issues.
...the concept of marketing is almost as old as humanity itself...suffice it to say here that it took almost no time for a wily serpent to sell Adam and Eve on a shiny apple from the Tree of Knowledge, at which point they became not only the first humans but also the first marketing demographic, and God expelled them from the Garden of Eden for being total consumerist dupes. (p. 40)
The ark was like a portable computer hard drive and Noah was a one-man Geek Squad, and he dumped God's most important files onto it before he zorched the virus-ridden computer that was the world.
An Irishman walks into a pub,” she begins and the bar went silent. “The bartender asks him, ‘What'll you have?’” Her Irish accent was spot on. “The man says, ‘Give me three pints of Guinness, please.’ The bartender brings him three pints and the man proceeds to alternately sip one, then the other, then the third until they're gone. He then orders three more.“The bartender says, ‘Sir, no need to order as many at a time. I’ll keep an eye on it and when you get low, I'll bring you a fresh one.’ The man replies, ‘You don't understand. I have two brothers, one in Australia and one in the States. We made a vow to each other that every Saturday night we'd still drink together. So right now, me brothers have three Guinness stouts too, and we're drinking together.’“The bartender thought this a wonderful tradition and every week the man came in and ordered three beers.” January’s playing and voice became more solemn, dramatic. “But one week, he ordered only two.” The crowd oohed and ahhed. “He slowly drank them,” she continued darkly, “and then ordered two more. The bartender looked at him sadly. ‘Sir, I know your tradition, and, agh, I'd just like to say that I'm sorry for your loss.’“The man looked on him strangely before it finally dawned on him. ‘Oh, me brothers are fine - I just quit drinking.
He shifted his attention back to me and leaned in closer. “I told you to behave. I don’t want to have to arrest you ever again.”“Um . . . okay.”I felt him slide something under my hand. He leaned in even closer, his mouth by my ear, and whispered, “Although I wouldn’t mind handcuffing you.”Oh. My. God.
I love fortune readings! because when I get in troubles, if the reading says that I am in a lucky day, I can think my troubles are just some kind of mistakes, and if the reading says that I am in the unlucky day, I can think that my troubles are just because of my bad luck. Either ways, I can know the reason of my troubles.
He’s sort of a homeless horse,” I said.“I’m leaving for the airport in two seconds, and I won’t be back for a couple days. You can put the horse in the garage, but I don’t want that horse in my apartment.”“Who would put a horse in an apartment? That’s dumb.”“Where’s the horse staying now?”“My apartment.”“I can always count on you to brighten my day,” Ranger said. And he disconnected.
We fell to wrestling again. We rolled all over the floor, in each other's arms, like two huge helpless children. He was naked and goatish under his robe, and I felt suffocated as he rolled over me. I rolled over him. We rolled over me. They rolled over him. We rolled over us.
The Deliverator's car has enough potential energy packed into its batteries to fire a pound of bacon into the Asteroid Belt. Unlike a bimbo box or a Burb beater, the Deliverator's car unloads that power through gaping, gleaming, polished, sphincters. When the Deliverator puts the hammer down, shit happens.
Are you certain they never cut your member off?" Tormund gave a shrug, as if to say he would never understand such madness. "Well, you are a free man now, but if you will have the girl, best find yourself a she-bear. If a man does not use his member it grows smaller and smaller, until one day he wants to piss and cannot find it.
One of the classier features of this home was the padded toilet seat. It was high-mileage puffy brown vinyl-colored foam and made that weird sigh when you sat down on it. I'm not a germaphobe or anything like that, but it is weird to think about all the ass time this seat had seen before we moved in. This is a horrible invention. What's the plan? You want to create a toilet seat so comfortable that you can fall asleep while you're taking a shit? You're going to show up late for work or end up like Elvis.
He was rather a low sort of pony. The fact is, he had been originally jobbed out by the day, and he never quite got over his old habits. He was clever in melodrama too, but too broad--too broad. When the mother died, he took the port-wine business.''The port-wine business!' cried Nicholas.'Drinking port-wine with the clown,' said the manager; 'but he was greedy, and one night bit off the bowl of the glass, and choked himself, so his vulgarity was the death of him at last.
To-morrow I will begin," thought Katy, as she dropped asleep that night. How often we all do so! And what a pity it is that when morning comes and to-morrow is to-day, we so frequently wake up feeling quite differently; careless or impatient, and not a bit inclined to do the fine things we planned overnight.
Jessamine blew out her cheeks in exasperation. "I think you ought to let me take poor Tessa into town to get some new clothes. Otherwise, the first time she takes a deep breath, that dress will fall right off her."Will looked interested. "I think she should try that out right now and see what happens.
We took a right at the fork, heading farther north. The charred houses continued. To the right, a large sign nailed to an old telephone post shouted DANGER in huge red letters. Underneath in crisp black letters was written:IM-1: Infectious Magic AreaDo Not EnterAuthorized Personnel OnlyA second smaller sign under the first one, written on a piece of plastic with permanent marker, read:Keep out, stupid.“We aren’t going to keep out, are we?” Ascanio asked.“No.”“Awesome.
But you want to know about the influence of books on my life, and as I’ve said, there was only one. Seneca. Do you know who he was? He was a Roman philosopher who wrote letters to imaginary friendstelling them how to behave for the rest of their lives.. Maybe that sounds dull, but the letters aren’t – they’re witty. I think you learn more if you’re laughing at the same time.
And I'll have you know that if you hurt my son again, if he so much as sighs sadly over his coffee, I will hire a man, a Russian, probably, to hunt you down and rip all that shiny black hair from your head, then break your skinny arms and legs, and set you on fire, and then put you out with a hammer. And should there be children from your beastly rutting, I shall have the Russian man cut them to tiny pieces and feed them to Madame Jacob's dog. because, although he may be only a worthless, simpleminded, libertine artist, Lucien is my favorite, and I will not have him hurt. Do you understand?
The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror."Is your head all right?"I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans."Er...fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just..."Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment."It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger.""A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger.""Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat.
Aw, come on, admit it—you feel like Cinderella, don’t you?” “No, Darren, I don’t. And do you know why?” “No, sugar, you tell me why.” “Because I’m a man. I’ve got a big fat one and I like to fuck other guys.” Darren was laughing over the phone now, and it made Reece grin. “And Ben isn’t a prince, he’s a cop. A big, sexy cop who fucks like a machine. He’s a man. I’m a man. We’re men.” He nodded sharply. “Now fuck off. I’m arranging flowers.
There were two books I remember changing my life as a introverted, bookish 14 year old. The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand and The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien. One was set in a fantastic world, populated by outlandish characters,tired prose, foul monsters, evil incarnate and a message about losing one's humanity. The other book was about hobbits.
Today, Aaron decided, he would begin to grieve in earnest. He would walk the lonely beach, mocked by gulls, uncaring, his every step a stately rebuke to the malign forces that had blighted his fate. His was the tragedy of a man who couldn't have his own way, and he intended to make known his anguish in the solemn solitude that only a stretch of sand, a suspiring sea, and a beetling cliff could provide.