50 Shades Quotes

Just think how many books I could've sold if Harry had been a bit more creative with his wand." -[On the success of 50 Shades of Grey]

I don’t think I have the right parts to appreciate '50 Shades of Grey'.

The only man I’ve ever been attracted to, and he comes with a bloody contract, a flogger, and a whole world of issues.

There´s something about you and I´m finding it impossible to stay away

You really are a bastard, aren't you? Christian Grey has nothing on you. My name might be similar, but I'd never say "Laters, baby.

My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.

I can't help but wonder, if 50 SHADES OF GREY is supposed to be sexually empowering to women how come the girl isn't the one holding the whip?

How could he mean so much to me in such a short time?

Try asking sometime. Not all women will stand for that 50 Shades crap, you know.

I need him to want me like I want and need him, and deep down I know that's not possible.

I am completely caught up in your spell...

I have fallen for someone who's so emotionally shut down, I will only get hurt.

When I learned about the gray existing between the black and white of absolute terms, I began to experience more peace. The more I expanded my gray areas (more than 50 shades), the more peace I experienced in my life.

Take your filthy paws off my son, you whore, and get out of my house-now!" She hisses through gritted teeth.

it was better written than 50 Shades of I Can’t Write for Shit.

Let me in.' 'Come to the door.' You always demanding like that? No wonder she isn't answering. Try asking sometime. Not all women will stand for that 50 Shades crap, you know.

The scene we stepped into was straight out of 50 Shades of Grey - Geriatric Edition.

It’s about gaining your trust and your respect, so you’ll let me exert my will over you.

I could gaze at him all day, but I have needs. Bathroom needs.

In life you use what you know, Anastasia.

Just because everyone CAN publish a book these days, doesn't mean everyone SHOULD. The world doesn't need 1000 knock-offs of 50 Shades of Grey. I'm not so sure the world even needed ONE 50 Shades of Grey.

Ana, honey, you've always had a tendency to overanalyse everything. Go with your gut.

My face is 50 shades of hot pink, which I’m not embarrassed to know is Emerson’s favorite color.

Angry Trish had changed all his contacts to characters from Fifty Shades of Grey. He knew this because Al’s Auto Shop, usually listed first, was now “50 Shades of Grey gave me more orgasms than you.” After that he had Anastasia Steele and A Helicopter. Worst of all, his mom—whose number he could thankfully remember—was listed as The Red Room of Pain.

I suppose falling in love is finding that one person who can appreciate and understand why you want the things you want and do the things you do.

Fairgood love ain’t nice. It’s instant, relentless, and rough. 50 Shades of Hillbilly,

How easily such a thing can become a mania, how the most normal and sensible of women once this passion to be thin is upon them, can lose completely their sense of balance and proportion and spend years dealing with this madness.

Recuerdos torturantes destellan a través de mi mente, el planeador, estrechar manos, besar, la bañera, su gentileza, su humor y su oscura, amenazante, sexy mirada. Lo extraño. Han sido cinco días, cinco días de agonía que se han sentido como una eternidad.

The temerity of [Christian Grey] is astounding. E.L. James has managed to create one of the most blatantly antagonistic sociopaths I've ever seen, yet women everywhere are gobbling it up like he's the best thing since the vibrator.

I am care free by nature but that doesn't mean that I am careless or that I care less. I simply pass on passive-aggressive. Why dodge bullets? This world is not a place for cowards. If we are going to shoot then let's freaking shoot straight. Energy is easily recognized and understood. I don't make time anymore for people that I have to interpret beyond what they say and what they are really saying. It's not my Aspie nature. It is my angel nature. I know every thing isn't always black or white, but I am so over engaging with people who are 50 shades of grey. Be real with me or be gone....because if we aren't Really present with others then we are disconnected anyway.

It is estimated that Josef Stalin killed more than twenty million people during his reign of terror. The Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia, and Estonia lost more than a third of their population during the Soviet genocide. The deportations reached as far as Finland. To this day, many Russians deny they ever deported a single person. But most Baltic people harbor no grudge, resentment, or ill will. They are grateful to the Soviets who showed compassion. Their freedom is precious, and they are learning to live within it. For some, the liberties we have as American citizens came at the expense of people who lie in unmarked graves in Siberia. Like Joana for Lina, our freedom cost them theirs. Some wars are about bombing. For the people of the Baltics, this war was about believing. In 1991, after 50 years of brutal occupation, the three Baltic countries regained their independence, peacefully and with dignity. They chose hope over hate and showed the world that even through the darkest night, there is light. Please research it. Tell someone. These three tiny nations have taught us that love is the most powerful army. Whether love of friend, love of country, love of God, or even love of enemy - love reveals to us the truly miraculous nature of the human spirit.

50 shades of Christian Grey

Women are each other’s Wonderbras: uplifting, supportive, making each other look bigger and better. (50 shades of feminism)

Damn, Self, do you have to be all 50 shades of batshit crazy?

Knowledge has the power to destroy fear.

The boy reported - after the Sergeant had slept for a few hours, which was not nearly enough - that YouTube had actually gone down for ten minutes under the weight of traffic. The story was truly global, truly immense: not Obama, not Justin Bieber, not Psy and not Bin Laden had ever touched this, he said. Not Khaled Saeed and not Mohamed Bouazizi, either. If Pippa Middleton and Megan Fox had announced their intention to marry during a live theatrical production of 50 Shades of Grey starring Benedict Cumberbatch, and then taken off their clothes to reveal their bodies tattooed with the text of the eighth Harry Potter novel, they might have approached this level of frenzy. But probably not, the boy said, because not everyone liked Benedict Cumberbatch.

In my mind, no other flower can compete with the perfection and the fragrance of the Peony. The silky petals, delicate shape, romantic shades and graceful foliage make this flower my all time favorite and I’m not alone. Brides plan their wedding dates around peony season. Flower enthusiasts plant them all through their gardens. Florists go crazy over all the different shades available from white, to coral, yellow to reds and every imaginable pink!  Sadly, this bloom can only be enjoyed in nature for a very short time each year. That’s the reason their paper counterparts have become such a hit!

I am the wild, free-spirited lady Who is often scorned! I don't care about suntan, I don't bother whether my hair is well combed, Or there's a wrinkle on my dress!

It's true if you love someone, You love him just the way he is, Not by changing that person's identity!

Tyneside Ships of Steel, built by Iron Men, old skills now lost forever, hang your heads... and weep for them.

Testing quote

Grace is the supernatural power that enables us to live out the true Christian life, as God supernaturally forms Christ inside of us.

it is possible to do good works and have zero relationship with God. It’s not the works that matter. It’s the personal love-relationship with Jesus Christ.

When we see God as the lawgiver instead of a loving Father, we tend to live our lives as orphans rather than sons and daughters.

Remember that God’s grace is not pardon for sin, but power to overcome sin. Then, it makes sense that He will never withdraw from you, knowing grace is your only hope for righteousness.

I was born with the idea that I had to be perfect in all things because deep down I felt like one big fat nothing at everything. All my life, my brain has sent out false warning signals. It constantly tells me that if I'm not perfect, I have failed. My brain is color-blind. It sees the world in black or white, yes or no, right or wrong, all or nothing .The gray matter between my ears can't discern that there are shades of gray coloring everything in life, that the world isn't a class you take pass-fail.

They came to a destroyed cabin and he pulled up and then went inside. Broken cups and pieces of dress material torn on a nail. A doll’s body without a head. He dug a .50-caliber bullet out of the wall with his knife and then carefully placed it on the windowsill as if for a memento. Here were memories, loves, deep heartstring notes like the place where he had been raised in Georgia. Here had been people whose dearest memories were the sound of a dipper dropped in the water bucket after taking a drink and the click of it as it hit bottom. The quiet of evening. The shade of the Devil’s trumpet vine over a window, scattered shadows gently hypnotic. The smell of a new calf, a long bar of sun falling into the back door over worn planks and every knot outlined. The familiar path to the barn walked for years by one’s father, grandfather, uncles, the way they called out, Horses, horses. How they swung the bucket by the handle as they went at an easy walk down the path between the trees, between here and there, between babyhood and adulthood, between innocence and death, that worn path and the lifting of the heart as the horses called out to you, how you knew each by the sound of its voice in the long cool evening after a day of hard work. Your heart melted sweetly, it slowed, lost its edges. Horses, horses. All gone in the burning.

The Florida side of my family is huge. People married young. Were Fruitful. Multiplied. As a kid a family fish fry might see 50 gather in someone's First District yard. A great-uncle frying mullet. Adults in the shade as kids played. Games of tag with complex rules. Jumping Live Oak roots. Flinging Chinaberries. You'd limp to the shade bruised and breathless. Hear a story about a cousin caught stealing hogs. Quickly get sent away – "Go play! This is Grown People Business!" We'd head back out. Climb trees. Make palm frond swords. Years passed. I grew up and found that most of those relatives were gone. I had missed the Grown People Business.

The Florida side of my family is huge. People married young. Were Fruitful. Multiplied. As a kid a family fish fry might see 50 gather in someone's First District yard. A great-uncle frying mullet. Adults in the shade as kids played. Games of tag with complex rules. Jumping Live Oak roots. Flinging Chinaberries. You'd limp to the shade bruised and breathless. Hear a story about a cousin caught stealing hogs. Quickly get sent away – "Go play! This is Grown People Business!" We'd head back out. Climb trees. Make palm frond swords. Years passed. I grew up and found that most of those relatives were gone. I had missed the Grown People Business.

But to sell Flush was unthinkable. He was of the rare order of objects that cannot be associated with money. Was he not of the still rarer kind that, because they typify what is spiritual, what is beyond price, become a fitting token of the disinterestedness of friendship; may be offered in that spirit to a friend, if one is so lucky enough as to have one, who is more like a daughter than a friend; to a friend who lies secluded all through the summer months in a back bedroom in Wimpole Street, to a friend who is no other than England’s foremost poetess, the brilliant, the doomed, the adored Elizabeth Barrett herself? Such were the thoughts that came more and more frequently to Miss Mitford as she watched Flush rolling and scampering in the sunshine; as she sat by the couch of Miss Barrett in her dark, ivy-shaded London bedroom. Yes; Flush was worthy of Miss Barrett; Miss Barrett was worthy of Flush. The sacrifice was a great one; but the sacrifice must be made. Thus, one day, probably in the early summer of the year 1842, a remarkable couple might have been seen taking their way down Wimpole Street—a very short, stout, shabby, elderly lady, with a bright red face and bright white hair, who led by the chain a very spirited, very inquisitive, very well-bred golden cocker spaniel puppy. They walked almost the whole length of the street until at last they paused at No. 50. Not without trepidation, Miss Mitford the bell.

Before I walked into the door, the room got shades darker as a cloud did a summersault in front of the sun. I turned my head up to the sky and saw Gauss in the glass smirking down at me. In that moment I was reminded of a story about Gauss. 
 When he was in the fifth grade, his teacher wanted some quiet, so he asked his class to add up all the numbers from 1-100. Thinking he had plenty of time to relax, he was shocked that within minutes Gauss had an answer. Gauss had cleverly noticed that the numbers 1 and 100 added up to 101, and 2 and 99 also added up to 101 and on down until you hit 50 and 51. So there are 50 pairs of 101, and a simple multiplication problem by Gauss left his teacher perplexed.
 The recollection of this story reminded me about my own fifth grade experience. Thor was the volunteer at my school for the “Math Superstar” program. After each assignment, stars of various colors signifying degrees of excellence were stuck on all the papers handed in. Like the Olympics, gold was the highest honor. 
 Wendy, the girl who sat next to me, was baffled that no matter how many wrong answers I got (usually all of them), I consistently had gold stars on my papers. She thought Thor was showing a personal bias towards me, but the truth is that I knew where he kept his boxes of stars, so I simply awarded myself what I thought I deserved. Hey, Gauss, how’s that for clever?

Trust His Promises This is my comfort in my affliction: Your promise has given me life. Psalm 119:50 HCSB God’s promises are found in a book like no other: the Holy Bible. It is a roadmap for life here on earth and for life eternal. As Christians, we are called upon to trust its promises, to follow its commandments, and to share its Good News. As believers, we must study the Bible daily and meditate upon its meaning for our lives. Otherwise, we deprive ourselves of a priceless gift from our Creator. God’s Holy Word is, indeed, a transforming, life-changing, one-of-a-kind treasure. And, a passing acquaintance with the Good Book is insufficient for Christians who seek to obey God’s Word and to understand His will. God has made promises to mankind and to you. God’s promises never fail and they never grow old. You must trust those promises and share them with your family, with your friends, and with the world. Joy is not mere happiness. Nor does joy spring from a life of ease, comfort, or peaceful circumstances. Joy is the soul’s buoyant response to a God of promise, presence, and power. Susan Lenzkes Claim all of God’s promises in the Bible. Your sins, your worries, your life—you may cast them all on Him. Corrie ten Boom We have ample evidence that the Lord is able to guide. The promises cover every imaginable situation. All we need to do is to take the hand He stretches out. Elisabeth Elliot Do not be afraid, then, that if you trust, or tell others to trust, the matter will end there. Trust is only the beginning and the continual foundation. When we trust Him, the Lord works, and His work is the important part of the whole matter. Hannah Whitall Smith Brother, is your faith looking upward today? / Trust in the promise of the Savior. / Sister, is the light shining bright on your way? / Trust in the promise of thy Lord. Fanny Crosby The meaning of hope isn’t just some flimsy wishing. It’s a firm confidence in God’s promises—that He will ultimately set things right. Sheila Walsh

Five cards, two dice, and an outside deck. A Domino’s pickup with a reality check. Testing: 1, 2, 3. Are you there? Static. Lay the mic brick work for another thought wreck. Perhaps a pantomime would work in this rhyme. So I’ll take an old penny, and wash off the grime. I’ll wash another 9, and then I’ll have a dime. The thought before the dime was the pantomime. Perhaps you can see it through the window I made. But the thoughts have been trashed like a 50’s grey shade. Yeah, I just said a whole lot. Don’t forget this is Wade. I just pull out the pen and I throw the grenade.

Some Tomorrows Never Come. I opened my eyes. I cried. I walked. Then stumbled. Then walked some more. I learned to read. Did homework. Complained. Fought with my parents. Went to college after losing the fight. My friend Randy came to college with me. I did homework. Complained. Met Marcia. Smiled. Understood my parents had been right. Didn’t tell them. Marcia betrayed me. Randy betrayed me. I never actually said goodbye to either one. I figured they didn’t deserve even that. Dropped out of school. "For a while," I said. Cancer took Dad quickly. I never told him he had been right all along. I realized I should at least tell Mom. I didn’t. Went back to college. Graduated. Got a job. Got fired. My boss didn’t like me. There was nothing I could do. I wasted a year. I wanted to prove to them that I wouldn’t be affected by losing my job. I got another job. I left that job to start a business with Ed. We were successful. Ed never respected me like I deserved. I sold my share. His loss, I told myself. I married Pam. We were happy. Pam and I had Elisa. She was happy. I didn’t hurt for the need of money. But Pam still wanted me to go back to work. We weren’t happy. She didn’t respect me like I deserved. Pam and I divorced. She expected me to do all the work when it came to seeing Elisa. I resented her for it. I was not going to let her force me into things anymore. I didn’t see Elisa that often. Mom died. I never did have that conversation with her. I grew old. I didn’t have that much money anymore. Maybe Pam wasn’t entirely wrong. She seemed pretty happy with George. I heard Elisa call him “Dad” one day. Cancer came for me quickly. “I’m sorry, I can’t get over to the hospital after all, something came up. Maybe this weekend?” Elisa said. She had no idea how far away that weekend really was to me. It might as well have been an eternity. From a certain perspective, it was. She hung up without saying goodbye. Later, it was hard to breathe. I looked around the empty room. Oh, God, I wish I hadn’t carried the anger with me. I closed my eyes.

one reviewer called the first version of this book “the new Over-50 Shades of Grey”). But

The Gigolo is what 50 Shades tried to be, but failed!

I am not here to please you by adapting myself to your rotten norms, I am here to live my best life, And make the most of my time,

Being a badass is better than being An ablaa naari, Whom the world only wants to crush and finish!

Yes, to heal the pain, We must feel it.

I love breaking the rules of society, And making my own! I hate conforming to the high standards of morality, Set exclusively for women!

When I am told by you, What to do, what not to do, How to do, how not to do, All I say in my mind is f... You!

I am a queen ruling my life, I make my own rules, And love breaking those made by you, For you I may be a bitch, And a witch! But seriously, I don't care!

I am the fierce lioness, Not meant to be tamed! You say 'I like strong independent women', But the truth is that you can't handle them, You can't handle me!

But the catch in life is, Unless you shed the inhibitions chaining you down, Unless you take the leap of faith, Unless you push yourself from the edge of your comfort zone, Unless you get ready to embrace the uncertainties of life, And risk everything you already have, You can't live the life of your dreams!

My kindness is my strength. It makes me who I am, It raises me above the likes of you.

Fill your own cup with happiness, Pour a little in others as well, And say cheers to life!

Sonnet 1178 Five little rich tourists sink in a sub, Wallets open without limit on a search-n-rescue op. A 1000 migrants die each year tryna cross the sea, Borders tighten in sheer fear with no show of mercy. People are only worth saving if their savings is super healthy. 50 Shades would be a Hitchcock film if the sicko had no money. Empathy is a far cry, life is never the issue. While next-door-neighbor cries of hunger, Netflix wets more tissue.

In 2017, researchers reconstructed the diets of Neanderthals, cousins of modern humans who went extinct approximately 50,000 years ago. They found that an individual with a dental abscess had been eating a type of fungus – a penicillin-producing mould – implying knowledge of its antibiotic properties. There are other less ancient examples, including the Iceman, an exquisitely well-preserved Neolithic corpse found in glacial ice, dating from around 5,000 years ago. On the day he died, the Iceman was carrying a pouch stuffed with wads of the tinder fungus (Fomes fomentarius) that he almost certainly used to make fire, and carefully prepared fragments of the birch polypore mushroom (Fomitopsis betulina) most probably used as a medicine. The indigenous peoples of Australia treated wounds with moulds harvested from the shaded side of eucalyptus trees. Ancient Egyptian papyruses from 1500 BCE refer to the curative properties of mould, and in 1640, the King’s herbalist in London, John Parkinson, described the use of moulds to treat wounds.

you up. Please go back to bed,” he says and kisses me thoughtfully. I hug him, feeling concerned.

For me, this summer will be pure gray, 50 Shades of Grey. To me, this is the big statement for this summer. Then we have 101 shades of Arabian pink, from ‘Initiation’ Pink to ‘Unbridled’ Pink. To me, these are fashion statements for all seasons.” Bernard Tristan Foong

Narrators can make or break your audiobook experience. Make sure your read first. always remember who's voice you can stand and try to stick to these people other wise your will end up hating the book. 50shades worst narrator ever. wined the whole book. enjoyed it much more in my head

Sin is no longer your master, for you no longer live under the requirements of the law. Instead, you live under the freedom of God's grace (Rom 6:14 NLT).

In domestic reindeer the coloration is much more variable within herds—fur of many shades and the occasional pinto, a pattern never seen in wild reindeer.50 Such high variability, as we have seen, is an indicator of relaxed natural selection.

The behavior of a less mature believer might not be as impressive as yours, but their heart might be more sincere.

Sow Small, Reap Big You sow and reap constantly, but are you sowing intentionally? If you speak discouragement over your spouse, you just sowed discouragement. The same is true for encouragement, prophecy or wisdom, for example. Sow favor and blessing into others’ lives, and you can bet that you’ll reap favor and blessing back.

SHADE Riddle Type: Literal clues.

Shade 34: A Simple Strategy For we are fellow workmen (joint promoters, laborers together) with and for God (1 Cor 3:9 AMP). You know that you can do nothing apart from Him. You know that “we were all given the one Spirit to drink” (1 Corinthians 12:13 NIV), and when we drink from His Spirit He abides in us and we abide in Him. With that as our foundation, we can talk about collaborating with God.

I imagine that writing about erotica is just about the most boring thing in the world. Your timing has to be just right. Men and women have to fall in love with your characters. Your characters have to be believable. That's why the 50 Shades trilogy intrigued both men andwomen across the world. It was a rubbish book that had a phenomenal following amongst mostly women whose partners were physically, mentally, verbally towards them. Does this include sodomy, and rape? We must, MUST ask ourselves that question. What happens to men when they are wounded (for their transgressions or otherwise). What happens when a man is wounded by gender abuse. Is that what happened to his partner in another life. This raises more questions about transcendental meditation, questions about Siddhartha (the Buddha), the occult and sacrifice. 50 shades covers arousal, stimulation, the woman being submissive, role play (much like the roles both men and women play in society, don't you think). Men behaving badly or men behaving like women (like the homosexual also known as gay). 50 shades (no, I don't watch rubbish like that but I do understand that a lot of couples, heterosexual and homosexual watch pornography and pornography is not meant for children, look out for censorship here again when it comes to the sexual impulse, sexuality, gender bias and gender discrimination).

Yo, you ever read 50 Shades of Grey? My stomach clenches. Something that always happens when he asks questions that feel outside my box. No. I’ve heard of it though. It’s a good story. You should read it.

An artist should choose a paper weight that is durable so the artwork will last—usually 50 lbs. or more depending on the medium and the project

The Pitjantjatjara and Pintupi don’t wash with water—for one thing because there isn’t much water in the desert, but for another because they don’t want to bother the Rainbow Serpent, the all-powerful creator god who lives around the water holes. Instead they use ashes from their fires to wash themselves, and it doesn’t deodorize them. The thing that fascinated me most was that they have absolutely no possessions. This is connected to the fact that they don’t believe in tomorrow; there is only today. For example, it is very rare to find a kangaroo in the desert. When they find one, they have food to eat, which is a big deal for them. But after they kill and cook the kangaroo, they can never finish it: there’s always lots of meat left. But since they’re always moving from place to place, when they wake up the next morning, they don’t take the meat with them. They just leave everything—the next day is the next day. Ulay and I separated, because among the Aborigines, the men stay with men and the women with women. The two sexes only make love during nights with a full moon, then they separate again. This creates total harmony—they don’t get a chance to bother each other! My main job with the women was watching them present their dreams. Every morning we would go to a field somewhere, and in hierarchical order, starting with the oldest women and moving down to the youngest, they would show us, using a stick to make drawings in the dirt, what they’d dreamed the night before. Each woman would then assign the rest of us roles to act out the dream as they interpreted it. They all had dreams; they all had to show them—dreams playing all day long! As spring turned to summer, the heat would rise to 50 degrees Celsius or more—130-plus degrees Fahrenheit. It’s like a hot wall. If you just stand up and walk a few paces, your heart feels like it’s going to hammer through your chest. You can’t. There are very few trees; there’s very little shade of any kind. So you literally have to be motionless for long periods of time. You function before sunrise and after sunset—that’s it. To stay motionless during the day, you have to slow down everything: your breathing, even your heartbeat. I also want to mention that Aboriginals are the only people I know who don’t take drugs of any kind. Even tea is much too strong a stimulant for them. That’s why they don’t have any kind of resistance to alcohol—it completely wipes out their memory. In the beginning, there were flies everywhere. I was covered with them—in my nose, in my mouth, all over my body. It was impossible to chase them away. Then after three months, I woke up one morning without a single fly on me. It was then that I understood that the flies had been drawn to me because I was something strange and different: as I became one with my surroundings, I lost my attraction.

Ben Franklin was renowned in his time for snatching “lightning from the sky and the scepter from tyrants.”49 Until he invented the lightning rod, ringing church bells specially baptized with water from the Jordan River were used to ward off lightning.50 This practice, which required humans to grasp a connection to a hunk of metal atop the highest structure in a town, killed more than 120 bell-ringers from 1750 to 1784, but was still believed to be effective.51 Many Christians did not believe humans had a right to defend themselves from divine attacks. Abbe Nollett, a man of the church, deemed it “as impious to ward off Heavens’ lightnings as for a child to ward off the chastening rod of its father.”52 Franklin retorted that “the Thunder of Heaven is no more supernatural than the Rain, Hail, or Sunshine of Heaven, against the Inconvenience of which we guard by Roofs & Shades without Scruple.”53 When organized Christianity failed to stop the spread of the useful invention, it blamed other natural phenomena, such as the 1755 Boston earthquake, on Franklin’s rods.54 John Adams condemned the religious opposition to Franklin’s rods, writing that they “met with all that opposition from the superstition, affectation of Piety, and Jealousy of new Inventions, that Inoculation to prevent the Danger of the Small Pox, and all other useful Discoveries, have met with in all ages of the World.”55 Franklin’s unholy invention was a blessing to humanity from the mind of a man, and religion fought it at every step.

By the sacred earth on which I kneel, by the shades that wander near me, by the deep and eternal grief that I feel, I swear; and by thee, O Night, and the spirits that preside over thee, to pursue the daemon who caused this misery, until he or I shall perish in mortal conflict.

when you put yourself ‘out there’, way beyond your comfort zone, when you indulge in endeavours that cause your heart to beat fast and your chest to tighten – amazing things happen. Doors open, opportunities arise and, most importantly, the painful chinks in your armour heal. The cracks that threaten to make you fall apart, they seal over. You become far stronger than you’d ever imagined. You stop waiting for permission to start living a life that allows your heart to sing and your mind to soar, and instead you set about building it yourself – shade by shade, piece by piece.

She has an amazing talent,” the man commented.

Education occurs in the mind of the willing.

Mental illness sucks.

Vaughn Manor rose in front of them: a three-story monstrosity of white stucco, gleaming windows and terracotta tile. Palm trees lined the drive on either side, providing little shade but lots of glam. Neighboring homes were at least 50 yards apart. Some of them might have been closer, but there was a good chance this house ate them.

I never wavered from the mission: getting the best possible number and price on every game. And no matter the obstacles, via trial and error, I became the best in the world at finding that number and concealing the source. The business of sports betting might seem like quantum physics to the general public. At the highest level, it is closer to psychological warfare between bettor and bookmaker—cat and mouse, hunter and prey. The posted line is just a way to trigger the game. Some cynics assume that my goal was to put every bookie out of business—but nothing could be further from the truth. Bookmakers strive for balance. They never want to tilt too far on one side of the action. Bookies breathe easiest in the middle, taking equal money and profiting off the 10 percent juice. If a bookie was destroyed, it meant he either closed his shop or reduced his limits. Neither scenario did me any good. My goal was to keep the bookmakers in business and expand their limits. This served to increase the size of the market, which meant more potential profit for me. The smartest bookies had solved this riddle and wanted to do business with me directly. They wanted to know straight from the horse’s mouth what games I liked. If they were smart, they took my information and profited by shading their line and forcing customers to the other side, extending limits. A smart bookmaker knows there will be winners and losers. They also understand that there is no business if there are no winners. Translated: the smartest bookmakers are open to all comers—just like baccarat, blackjack, and craps. The brightest bookmakers know they can use smart money for their own benefit. Early in my career, the major-league bookmakers were Bob Martin, Johnny Quinn, Gene Maday, and Scotty Schettler. Following in their footsteps are Nick Bogdanovich, Jimmy Vaccaro, Richie Baccellieri, Matt Metcalf, and Chris Andrews. They are grand masters of the art. They know how to book. How smart are they? Well, Nick ran the William Hill U.S. sportsbook operation and then oversaw Caesars Sports trading for nearly a decade before being hired as sportsbook manager at Circa. Jimmy is the senior linemaker at the sports-betting network VSiN and vice president of sports marketing at the South Point Hotel, Casino & Spa. Richie B., who ran the counter at the MGM, Caesars, and the Palms, now works as the director of product development at Circa alongside Nick. Chris Andrews, legendary oddsmaker Jack “Pittsburgh Jack” Franzi’s nephew, is the sportsbook director and Jimmy’s sidekick at the South Point, owned and operated by Michael Gaughan, another Las Vegas legend. In 1992, Jack Binion was Nick Bogdanovich’s boss at the Horseshoe. I could bet $25,000 on a game of college football at eight o’clock Monday morning, and $50,000 on a pro football game.