Ace Of Clubs Quotes

I don't belong anywhere. I am neither a heart, a diamond, a club, nor a spade. I am neither a King, a Jack, an Eight, nor an Ace. As I am here - I am merely the Joker, and who that is I have had to find out for myself. Every time I toss my head, the jingling bells remind me that I have no family. I have no number - and no trade either. I have gone around observing your activities from the outside. Because of this I have also been able to see things to which you have been blind. Every morning you have gone to work, but you have never been fully awake. It is different for the Joker, because he was put into this world with a flaw: he sees too deeply and too much. Truth is a lonely thing.

Watch for the ace of spades, which is the sign of death, and the ace of clubs, which designates the official of the night. Happy, happy young men!” he added.

That was the best thing about this club and something I'd always craved growing up. You might fuck up, but the brothers wouldn't ever act like you weren't welcome. They'd punish you, but then it would be over, forgotten. You'd be back in the fold.

I don't belong anywhere. I am neither a heart, a diamond, a club, nor a spade. I am neither a King, a Jack, an Eight, nor an Ace. As I am here - I am merely the Joker, and who that is I have had to find out for myself.

Chapter 1: Fan Number One Chapter 2: A Portrait of the Author as a Young Girl Chapter 3: Mystery Man Chapter 4: City Kid Chapter 5: The Plot Thickens Chapter 6: Reality Attack Chapter 7: Business Lesson Chapter 8: A Portrait of the Bulldog as a Young Girl Chapter 9: The Agent Chapter 10: The Chosen Grown-Up Chapter 11: Welcome to the Club Chapter 12: In or Out? Chapter 13: Open for Business Chapter 14: Judgment Day Chapter 15: A New Island Chapter 16: Poker, Anyone? Chapter 17: High Stakes, Aces Wild Chapter 18: The Long Arm of the Law Chapter 19: The Red Pencil Blues

Danny was a matador. Other cast members included a chubby Italian chef, a mime, and, for some reason, a mummy. I found that offensive on behalf of living Egyptian people, but I also knew that Parker McHune’s mother couldn’t sew, so wrapping her son in Ace bandages was the best she could do.

was left wondering what I was supposed to do with the wall I’d built around my heart, because there was no way Deck could scale that sucker, and it probably wasn’t fair to ignore him because of what all his club brothers had done to me. That would be the pot calling the kettle black for sure.

- Have you thought about joining any clubs on your college campus as a mean to build a support system for yourself? Engaging with others who identify as you do could help bring about a level of comfort that will enable you to speak freely." Alice resisted the urge to sort. "Nah. I think those are great for some people, especially if you're the right color, not bi, and certainly not ace. So.

Finally, as this vision of sexual liberation dominated the feminist platform, not having sex—or only wanting vanilla sex or only having sex within the confines of monogamous, heterosexual relationships—becomes a sign that someone is allied with backward, conservative political beliefs. Sexuality, which is already a maturity narrative where sex leads to adulthood, then becomes a political maturity narrative as well, an evolution in thought and practice. An imaginary line runs from “immature,” both sexually and politically, to “fully realized.” On one end is our old friend, the sexually repressed woman. She is heterosexual, probably a Republican, maybe a WASP. She is blonde and stays at home with her kids and clutches her pearls when she’s not clutching a cross. On the other end is a woman who is down for anything: threesomes, polyamory, kink, sex clubs. She has multiple orgasms and multiple partners and wants to abolish ICE.

I definitely do not like the Law," said Simple, using the word with a capital letter to mean police and courts combined. "Why?" I asked. "Because the Law beats my head. Also because the Law will give a white man One Year and give me Ten." "But if it wasn't for the Law," I said, "you would not have any protection." "Protection?" yelled Simple. "The Law always protects a white man. But if I holler for the Law, the Law says, 'What do you want, Negro?' Only most white polices do not say 'Negro.' " "Oh, I see. You are talking about the police, not the Law in general." "Yes, I am talking about the polices." "You have a bad opinion of the Law," I said. "The Law has a bad opinion of me," said Simple. "The Law thinks all Negroes are in the criminal class. The Law'll stop me on the streets and shake me down—me, a workingman—as quick as they will any old weed-headed hustler or two-bit rounder. I do not like polices." "You must be talking about the way-down-home-in-Dixie Law," I said, "not up North." "I am talking about the Law all over America," said Simple, "North or South. Insofar as I am concerned, a police is no good. It was the Law that started the Harlem riots by shooting that soldier-boy. Take a cracker down South or an ofay up North—as soon as he puts on a badge he wants to try out his billy club on some Negro's head. I tell you police are no good! If they was, they wouldn't be polices.

I’m stacking days, building a house of cards made from nothing but days. Monday is the Ace of Hearts. Saturday is the Four of Spades. Wednesday is the Seven of Clubs. Thursday night is, I suspect, the Seven of Diamonds, and it might be heavy enough to bring the whole precarious thing tumbling down around my ears. I would spend an entire hour watching cards fall, because time would stretch, the same way it stretches out to fill in awkward pauses, the way it stretched thin in that thundering moment of a car crash. Or at the edges of a wound.

We were a deck of cards, a club, a heart, a diamond and a spade, all of us made for dealing in death. I had my Joker, my Jack, my King, and my scruffy little pooch of an Ace. Somehow, I’d become the Queen of all that, and together we made a full house, even if it didn’t look like anyone else’s version, even if it was a jumble of suits and colours. It didn’t make us any less real.

I don't belong anywhere. I am neither a heart, a diamond, a club, nor a spade. I am neither a King, a Jack, an Eight, nor an Ace. As I am here - I am merely the Joker, and who that is I have had to find out for myself. Every time I toss my head, the jingling bells remind me that I have no family. I have no number - and no trade either. I have gone around observing your activities from the outside. Because of this I have also been able to see things to which you have been blind. Every morning you have gone to work, but you have never been fully awake. It is different for the Joker, because he was put into this world with a flaw: he sees too deeply and too much.

You know, I hope it works out with Floyd and your mom. It’d be the best thing for everybody. Especially you.” “Why?” Florence asked. “For starters? You’d be the future owner of the Lakeside Inn.” “No,” was all she could manage to say in the moment. “I want to be a teacher. Like you said.” Archie looked at her as if she’d just failed a test she was expected to ace. “You could do a lot worse than own a popular restaurant. Coming from your background, that’s an incredible stroke of luck.” “I know, but I didn’t ask for all that. I just want to do what I want to do.” “That’s a selfish attitude.” “I’m not selfish.” She tried to return his disappointed glare. “If I know one thing, it’s that if I don’t get what I want for myself, no one will.” “Floyd told me about how hard your life was before you came here. And if that’s the only thing you’ve learned from it, I feel sorry for you.

He stepped out the door into the brilliant sunshine. George laid down his cards thoughtfully, turned his piles of three. He built four clubs on his ace pile. The sun square was on the floor now, and the flies whipped through it like sparks. A sound of jingling harness and the croak of heavy-laden axles sounded from outside.

As part of an orchestrated PR follow-up, a Las Vegas Sun editorial of April 3, 1964, assured us that “Anybody who has been around Nevada very long knows that [casinos welcome] players with a system.” “Edward O. Thorp…obviously doesn’t know the facts of gambling life. There has never been a system invented that overcomes…the advantage the house enjoys in every game of chance.” And for the clincher: “ ‘Dr. Thorp may be qualified at mathematics, but he is sophomoric on gambling,’ is the way Edward A. Olsen, Gaming Control Board chairman, put it.” In a nonconfrontational vein, Gene Evans of Harrah’s Club explained that “…the club believes the player may have a better chance when the deck is shuffled every time, because all the Aces and face cards could come up on each deal.

She made a humph noise and played another card. She got the ace of diamonds up to the top line. “The ace of clubs is buried, darn it. I’m not going to get it out in time.” “Kind of slide it out,” I said, “when you’re not looking,

It had taken her a while to figure it out, skirting around the Queer Club at school and going to virtual talks with Neela and in-person events with May, but once she tried the ace label on, she felt it fit her like a well-worn T-shirt. She didn't need a label to explain herself, but having 'ace' felt like armor; it was easy to drop a word, to be somewhat understood.

ACES they called them. Adverse Childhood Experiences. Iris has a pocket full of ACES.

Eve taught me to look at the overall picture, to read the cards as art and intuition as much as a science. Women were more in touch with that innate sense than men. Women resonated with the cards. Rather than read the cards in order, I let the entire pattern seep in. I understood the 8 of Clubs and the Ace of Spades. The Queen of Diamonds, I sensed, would be a real person to provide the essentials of life. Then my heart sank when I saw the two Jacks, the Pretenders, the Liars who would upset my balance on the one hand, and try to exert power over me on the other. They framed the 2 of hearts. The Jacks would jeopardize my love life. I’d have to be wary in that domain. It had been quite a while since I had taken a lover. With this news, I would wait. I’d return to New York City, and meet two people who would be my Ace and my Queen. I took the calendar from the wall near the telephone, and sat down on Nestor’s chair. I stared at it, unbelieving; it had been six months since Nestor’s passing. I had spent half a year sorting through Nestor’s things, working, making no new friends, and taking no lovers. I had performed my duties, including marking the calendar mechanically. I operated in a daze. Several people had asked me if they could help. I didn’t understand, but now I knew. I had lost all sense of time and of myself, and I needed to rejoin life. My nineteenth birthday was just six months away. I would stay in Key West until then. In the interim, I would decide what I wanted to keep from Nestor’s legacy and, as he wished, place the rest.

This is why people are chasing their aces all over the poorest bays. Not because they've some genuine belief that they will catch the card. They can barely catch a break at all. A century of impoverishment and industry collapse, pillaging and recrimination, has taught them not to hope for much but a bit of fun when the cards are cut.

I instantly fell in love with the unfamiliarity and uncertainty involved in being in a foreign place. Everything was a discovery, a riddle to solve. Suddenly my world became a lot bigger than seeking my father’s approval. Somewhere, someone else was winning a blue ribbon in women’s moguls, or acing an exam, but frankly I didn’t care.