Aces Card Quotes

Politicians were mostly people who'd had too little morals and ethics to stay lawyers.

You need somebody to stand up for you. You're the little guy, you just don't realize it yet. The Commonwealth has all the aces, and you don't even know you're playing cards.

The three cards were the Moon, the Empress, and the Ace of Cups. Ambrose leaned over my shoulder to peer at the cards. "Ooh,' he said. "Very interesting." Rhonda glanced up at him. "Hush. You don't know what you're talking about.

She turned back to the cards and tapped the Ace of Cups. "You're on the verge of a new beginning, a rebirth of great power and emotion. Your life will change, but it will be change that takes you in the direction that, while difficult, will ultimatley illuminate the world." "Whoa," I said. Rhonda then pointed to the Empress. "Power and leadership lie ahead of you, which you will handle with grace and intelligence. The seeds are already in place, though there's an edge of uncertainty-an enigmatic set of influences that hang around you like a mist." Her attention was on the Moon as she said those words. "But my overall impression is that those unknown factors won't deter you from your destiny." Lissa's eyes were wide. "You can teel that just from the cards?" ... After several moments of heavy silence, she said, "You will destroy that which is undead." i waited about thirty seconds for her to continue, but she didn't. "Wait, that's it?" ... Her eyes flickered over the cards, looked at Dimitri, then looked back at the cards. Her expression was blank. "You will lose what you value most, so treasure it while you can." She pointed to the Wheel of Fortune card. "The wheel is turning, always turning.

How very kind of her, ' I said. 'I must remember to send her a card.' I'd send her a card alright. It would be the Ace of Spades, and I'd mail it anonymously from somewhere other than Bishop's Lacey.

There will never be another Dark-Hunter who goes free. Your happiness comes at the expense of their freedom because there’s no one else I want to barter with. No one else to pay the fee you set up centuries ago. Knowing that, I hope you sleep well at night. (Artemis) (Artemis leaves.) But what about the Dark-Hunters? (Acheron) The one thing I’ve learned most out of all this is that it’s not over until all the cards are played. She laid down her ace, thinking we can’t beat it. But there are fifty-one other cards in the deck and the game isn’t over yet. We’ll figure something out. Her little fit fight now just shows that she’s played her best hand. That was all she’s capable of doing to hurt you, which is exactly why she did it. Don’t let her ruin your day, baby, and don’t let her take from us what we have. We’ve gotten this far together. What’s another bitter goddess to us? Like my papou always says, over, under, around, or through. There’s always a way and we’ll find it. (Tory)

His neglected heart, forsaken, isolated, was more lonely than the ace of hearts in the middle of a playing card.

I never play all my cards at once. You will realise that as you read through what I tell you and you should always keep that in your mind. I am one step ahead. Always. You may have a good hand but mine will always be better (so what if the ace was hidden up my sleeve? Who said we had to engage according to a set of rules?)

She smiled with a newfound optimism. "The one thing I've learned most out of all this is that it's not over until all the cards are played. She laid down her ace, thinking we can't beat it. But there are fifty-one other cards in the deck and the game isn't over yet. We'll figure something out. Her little fit right now just shows that she's played her best hand. That was all she's capable of doing to hurt you which is exactly why she did it. Don't let her ruin your day, baby, and don't let her take from us what we have. We've gotten this far together. What's another bitter goddess to us? Like my papou always says, over, under, around or through. There's always a way and we'll find it."- Tory

Her guidebook had been wrong about one thing: the most dangerous part of the City of Sin wasn't the beckoning of the card tables or the threat of the gangs, it was the allure of Levi Glaisyer's roguish smile,

Ace-king is a fine hand. Ace-queen is a little weaker, but still good. With ace-jack, you're already sliding rapidly down a slippery slope. With ace-ten, you've slid down the slope, fallen off the cliff, and lie in wreckage at the bottom with hands like ace-five and ace-six.

A pair of aces," Daniel said with a fierce look in his eye. Justin set his cards down quietly and faceup. "Two pair.Jacks and sevens." He sat back as Caine swore in disgust. "You son of-" In frustration, Daniel broke off, shifting his eyes from his daughter to Shelby. "The devil take you, Justin Blade." "You're sending him off prematurely," Shelby commented, spreading her cards. "A straight,from the five to the nine." Alan walked over to look at her cards. "I'll be damned, she drew the six and seven." "No one but a bloody witch draws an inside straight," Daniel boomed, glaring at her. "Or a bloody Campbell," Shelby said easily. His eyes narrowed. "Deal the cards." Justin grinned at her as Shelby scooped in chips. "Welcome aboard," he said quietly and began to shuffle.

When destiny deals, you will find yourself staring at four cards. Inevitably, your hand will not change. Time passes and eventually you face three upturned aces, leaving one unknown. Deep down, you know what the fourth holds. Do you have the courage to flip one last time knowing there is no going back? Fate knows no bounds...

Category No. 3: Two aces with a low card.

Categories No. 4 and No. 5: Three small cards to a straight and two small cards with an ace.

It’s the ace of hearts,” I murmur. It is a small red heart with an A above and to the left of it, like in the corner of a playing card. “It’s Nate.

From the beginning, from the moment I stepped foot in this building, the others have held all the cards. Now I’ve got one of my own. Just one, but maybe it’s an ace. And I’m going to use it.

I love you to the moon and back - you read that in one of the picture books you brought to my house whenI was sick. It's becoming this thing with us. I melt. And you knew I would. You've got all these aces up your sleeve - a real card shark.

Fruit has been provided in the past, but not flowers. The cards attached to the arrangements offer no message, only the same name: A. Diamonds. That would be Ace of Diamonds, the handler and mission planner whom he has never seen, to whom he has never spoken.

the way, when I showed this to Leslie, I used real cards, not a bridge diagram. If you find it difficult to follow the diagrams, try using a real deck. For the first hand, you can also try dealing East the king of spades instead of West, and you will see why the finesse won't work. A finesse is a cool play that allows you to win two tricks with the ace and queen of a suit, even though one of your opponents holds the king. It has a 50 percent chance of success, depending on which one of your opponents holds that king.

What if we had born Bushmen in the Kalahari? What if our parents had been undernourished villagers in Uttar Pradesh, and we faced the problem of commanding the attention of the world on a diet of five hundred calories a day, and in Urdu? What good is an ace if the other cards in your hand are dogs from every town

The old monster, she thought incoherently, keeps his watch still. Had this terrible vigil been only a matter of hours, or had it been her whole life? Surely everything that had gone before had been a dream, little more than a short wait in the wings? The mother who had seemed to be disgusted and repulsed by all those around her, the well-meaning but ineffectual father, the schools, the friends, the dates and dances - they were all a dream to her now, as youth must seem to the old. Nothing mattered, nothing was but this silent and sunstruck dooryard where death had been dealt and yet more death waited in the cards, as sure as aces and eights. The old monster kept his watch still, and her son was slipping, slipping, slipping away.

Terrorists undertake an impossible mission: to change the political balance of power through violence, despite having no army. To achieve their aim, they present the state with an impossible challenge of its own: to prove that it can protect all of its citizens from political violence, anywhere, anytime. The terrorists hope that when the state tries to fulfill this impossible mission, it will reshuffle the political cards and hand them some unforeseen ace.

The Fool in the Tarot deck frequently depicted a boy with a dog at his heels, staring at the sky while he walked blithely off a cliff, burdened only by a bundle on a stick. The diabolist had admitted a relationship to the card. No single detail was quite right, but much as something might appear similar if one were to unfocus their vision… The young diabolist walked with the sparrow at his shoulder, eyes on the windows without looking through the windows, walking forward as if he were afraid to stop. His burden here was the gas containers. No, he was burdened not just by the gas containers, but by some notion of responsibility. A man, when facing death, aspires to finish what he started. What had the custodian of the Thorburn estate started? What drove him? She knew he sought to do good and to vanquish evil, and she could surmise that both good acts and the existence of evil had touched him deeply. The Fool card was akin to the ace. Depending on the game being played, it was often the lowest card or the highest. Valueless or highly valued. Powerless or powerful. It all depended on context. He sought to kill the demon, and he would either catastrophically fail or succeed. This Fool sought to slay the metaphorical dragon. He felt his own mortality, which was quite possibly her fault, in part, and now he rushed to finish the task he’d set for himself. To better the world. The Fool was wrought with air – the clouds he gazed at, the void beyond the cliff, the feather in his cap, even the dog could often be found mid-step, bounding, just above the ground. He was a Fool wrought with a different element. The familiar didn’t quite fit for the departure from the air, but the traditional dog didn’t conjure ideas of air right off the bat either. What was he wrought with? That was another question that begged an answer.

Dr Smart-Allick, of Narkover, gave a powerful address in the Speech Hall last night. He said that it was not always the timid fellow, with four conventional aces in his hand, who won the highest honours, '"it is often," he said, "the fifth ace that makes all the difference between success and failure." He was loudly cheered from the fifth-form benches and at the end of the address a young master swarmed up a pillar and threw playing cards down among the boys.

All over England loving hands are packing trunks and tuck-boxes for the young gentlemen of Narkover, who reassemble today. Eager young voices are heard shouting, 'Mater! Don't forget to put in that pack of cards with the nicked aces,' or 'Auntie Frances, where have you put my dud half-crowns?' From many a home the father is, alas, temporarily absent, behind bars, but the lonely mother has the consolation of seeing her boy develop in the way his father would have wished.

Ultimately, there are not fifty-six cards in the Minor Arcana of the tarot. There are only four—the four aces. The other fifty-two cards (the sixteen court cards and the thirty-six small cards), live inside the four aces. As we learned in chapter 8, if we look at the ace of any suit under a magic microscope, we first see the four court cards of that suit living comfortably inside. Let's not stop there. If we increase the magnification level of our microscope, we see that the nine small cards of the suit are nestled neatly inside in three rows of three cards. Isn't that tidy?

Truth or Care by Stewart Stafford It's not every day you find out you're going to die, A sweaty doctor hit me right between the eyes, With my body's Judas kiss and then I was prey, Life had left me without any cards to play. Reading the shocked expression on my face, The doctor played his "it's treatable" ace, Treatable is good but curable is better, Survival hinges on the placement of letters. Turns out I never had a chance, sadly, The doctor lied to me and lied badly, Flop sweat had put truth to the sword, And I'm writing all this through a ouija board. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Drax's first reaction was to lurch forward and tear Meyer's cards out of his hand. He faced them on the table, scrabbling feverishly among them for a possible winner. Then he flung them back across the baize. His face was dead white, but his eyes blazed redly at Bond. Suddenly he raised one clenched fist and crashed it on the table among the pile of impotent aces and kings and queens in front of him. Very low, he spat the words at Bond. "You're a che-" "That's enough, Drax!" Basildon's voice came across the table like a whiplash. "None of that talk here. I've been watching the whole game. Settle up. If you've got any complaints, put them in writing to the Committee.

I would like to see you cheat,” Elizabeth said impulsively, smiling at him. His hands stilled, his eyes intent on her face. “I beg your pardon?” “What I meant,” she hastily explained as he continued to idly shuffle the cards, watching her, “is that night in the card room at Charise’s there was mention of someone being able to deal a card from the bottom of the deck, and I’ve always wondered if you could, if it could…” She trailed off, belatedly realizing she was insulting him and that his narrowed, speculative gaze proved that she’d made it sound as if she believed him to be dishonest at cards. “I beg your pardon,” she said quietly. “That was truly awful of me.” Ian accepted her apology with a curt nod, and when Alex hastily interjected, “Why don’t we use the chips for a shilling each,” he wordlessly and immediately dealt the cards. Too embarrassed even to look at him, Elizabeth bit her lip and picked up her hand. In it there were four kings. Her gaze flew to Ian, but he was lounging back in his chair, studying his own cards. She won three shillings and was pleased as could be. He passed the deck to her, but Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t like to deal. I always drop the cards, which Celton says is very irritating. Would you mind dealing for me?” “Not at all,” Ian said dispassionately, and Elizabeth realized with a sinking heart that he was still annoyed with her. “Who is Celton?” Jordan inquired. “Celton is a groom with whom I play cards,” Elizabeth explained unhappily, picking up her hand. In it there were four aces. She knew it then, and laughter and relief trembled on her lips as she lifted her face and stared at her betrothed. There was not a sign, not so much as a hint anywhere on his perfectly composed features that anything unusual had been happening. Lounging indolently in his chair, he quirked an indifferent brow and said, “Do you want to discard and draw more cards, Elizabeth?” “Yes,” she replied, swallowing her mirth, “I would like one more ace to go with the ones I have.” “There are only four,” he explained mildly, and with such convincing blandness that Elizabeth whooped with laughter and dropped her cards. “You are a complete charlatan!” she gasped when she could finally speak, but her face was aglow with admiration. “Thank you, darling,” he replied tenderly. “I’m happy to know your opinion of me is already improving.” The laughter froze in Elizabeth’s chest, replaced by warmth that quaked through her from head to foot. Gentlemen did not speak such tender endearments in front of other people, if at all. “I’m a Scot,” he’d whispered huskily to her long ago. “We do.” The Townsendes had launched into swift, laughing conversation after a moment of stunned silence following his words, and it was just as well, because Elizabeth could not tear her gaze from Ian, could not seem to move. And in that endless moment when their gazes held, Elizabeth had an almost overwhelming desire to fling herself into his arms. He saw it, too, and the answering expression in his eyes made her feel she was melting. “It occurs to me, Ian,” Jordan joked a moment later, gently breaking their spell, “that we are wasting our time with honest pursuits.” Ian’s gaze shifted reluctantly from Elizabeth’s face, and then he smiled inquisitively at Jordan. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, shoving the deck toward Jordan while Elizabeth put back her unjustly won chips. “With your skill at dealing whatever hand you want, we could gull half of London. If any of our victims had the temerity to object, Alex could run them through with her rapier, and Elizabeth could shoot him before he hit the ground.” Ian chuckled. “Not a bad idea. What would your role be?” “Breaking us out of Newgate!” Elizabeth laughed. “Exactly.

I remember, one week, we all started playing strip poker. This is more like it, I thought. It wasn’t really even poker, but was more like: pick an ace and lose an item of clothing. I tried one night to rig the cards so that I could end up naked with Stephie, this girl I really fancied. I carefully counted out the cards and the aces, and rather unsubtly made sure I was sitting next to her, when we started playing. Annoyingly, she then swapped places when someone else came to join us and I ended naked next to Mick, embarrassed and self-conscious. (That will teach me to cheat.) Most of the time my attempts to get a girl fell pretty flat. In fact, whenever I really liked a girl I would always end up losing her to someone else, mainly because I found it so hard to make my feelings known and to pluck up the courage just to ask her out. I remember a friend coming down to the island to stay at the end of one summer, and within twenty-four hours he was in bed with the girl I had been chasing all holidays! I couldn’t believe it. What the hell did he have that I didn’t? I noticed that he wore these brown suede cowboy boots, so I went out and bought a secondhand pair, but I just looked stupid in them. To make matters worse, this friend then went on to describe to me in great detail what they had got up to in that bed. Aarrgh. It kind of summed up my attempts at womanizing.

The Unknown Soldier A tale to tell in bloody rhyme, A story to last ’til the dawn of end’s time. Of a loving boy who left dear home, To bear his countries burdens; her honor to sow. –A common boy, I say, who left kith and kin, To battle der Kaiser and all that was therein. The Arsenal of Democracy was his kind, –To make the world safe–was their call and chime. Trained he thus in the far army camps, Drilled he often in the march and stamp. Laughed he did with new found friends, Lived they together for the noble end. Greyish mottled images clipp’ed and hack´ed– Black and white broke drum Ʀ…ɧ..λ..t…ʮ..m..ȿ —marching armies off to ’ttack. Images scratched, chopped, theatrical exaggerate, Confetti parades, shouts of high praise To where hell would sup and partake with all bon hope as the transport do them take Faded icons board the ship– To steel them away collaged together –joined in spirit and hip. Timeworn humanity of once what was To broker peace in eagles and doves. Mortal clay in the earth but to grapple and smite As warbirds ironed soar in heaven’s light. All called all forward to divinities’ kept date, Heroes all–all aces and fates. Paris–Used to sing and play at some cards, A common Joe everybody knew from own heart. He could have been called ‘the kid’ by the ‘old man,’ But a common private now taking orders to stand. Receiving letters from his shy sweet one, Read them over and over until they faded to none. Trained like hell with his Commander-in-Arms, –To avoid the dangers of a most bloody harm. Aye, this boy was mortal, true enough said, He could be one of thousands alive but now surely dead. How he sang and cried and ate the gruel of rations, And grumbled as soldiers do at war’s great contagions. Out–out to the battle this young did go, To become a man; the world to show. (An ocean away his mother cried so– To return her boy safe as far as the heavens go). Lay he down in trenched hole, With balls bursting overhead upon the knoll. Listened hardnfast to the “Sarge” bearing the news, —“We’re going over soon—” was all he knew. The whistle blew; up and over they went, Charging the Hun, his life to be spent (“Avoid the gas boys that’ll blister yer arse!!”). Running through wires razored and deadened trees, Fell he into a gouge to find in shelter of need (They say he bayoneted one just as he–, face to face in War’s Dance of trialed humanity). A nameless sonnuvabitch shell then did untimely RiiiiiiiP the field asunder in burrrstzʑ–and he tripped. And on the field of battle’s blood did he die, Faceless in a puddle as blurrs of ghosting men shrieked as they were fleeing by–. Perished he alone in the no man’s land, Surrounded by an army of his brother’s teeming bands . . . And a world away a mother sighed, Listened to the rain and lay down and cried. . . . Today lays the grave somber and white, Guarded decades long in both the dark and the light. Silent sentinels watch o’er and with him do walk, Speak they neither; their duty talks. Lone, stark sentries perform the unsmiling task, –Guarding this one dead–at the nation’s bequest. Cared over day and night in both rain or sun, Present changing of the guard and their duty is done (The changing of the guard ’tis poetry motioned A Nation defining itself–telling of rifles twirl-clicking under the intensest of devotions). This poem–of The Unknown, taken thus, Is rend eternal by Divinity’s Iron Trust. How he, a common soldier, gained the estate Of bearing his countries glory unto his unknown fate. Here rests in honored glory a warrior known but to God, Now rests he in peace from the conflict path he trod. He is our friend, our family, brother, our mother’s son –belongs he to us all, For he has stood in our place–heeding God’s final call.

We have looked at some of the things that a female might do if she has been deserted by her mate. But these all have the air of making the best of a bad job. Is there anything a female can do to reduce the extent to which her mate exploits her in the first place? She has a strong card in her hand. She can refuse to copulate. She is in demand, in a seller's market. This is because she brings the dowry of a large, nutritious egg. A male who successfully copulates gains a valuable food reserve for his offspring. The female is potentially in a position to drive a hard bargain before she copulates. Once she has copulated she has played her ace — her egg has been committed to the male. It is all very well to talk about driving hard bargains, but we know very well it is not really like that. Is there any realistic way in which something equivalent to driving a hard bargain could evolve by natural selection? I shall consider two main possibilities, called the domestic-bliss strategy, the he-man strategy. The simplest version of the domestic-bliss strategy is this. The female looks the males over, and tries to spot signs of fidelity and domesticity in advance. There is bound to be variation in the population of males in their predisposition to be faithful husbands. If females could recognize such qualities in advance, they could benefit themselves by choosing males possessing them. One way for a female to do this is to play hard to get for a long time, to be coy. Any male who is not patient enough to wait until the female eventually consents to copulate is not likely to be a good bet as a faithful husband. By insisting on a long engagement period, a female weeds out casual suitors, and only finally copulates with a male who has proved his qualities of fidelity and perseverance in advance. Feminine coyness is in fact very common among animals, and so are prolonged courtship or engagement periods. As we have already seen, a long engagement can also benefit a male where there is a danger of his being duped into caring for another male's child.

But that’s life right? It’s just a shitty hand of cards. But then maybe somebody pulls out an Ace, and somebody else gets a four, or a ten. It’s all in the draw and how you play it.

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.

Crabtree's Parable of the Cards: “We divide the deck into numbered and face cards, and so we divide the types of men. The numbered cards are the underlings, the parasites of the world. When you play a man who is a numbered card, he looks out only for himself with no consciousness that others are in the game with him. If you wish to be kind, you can say these men are the subordinates of the world, but they are parasites all the same. They attach themselves to someone greater, learning if they are young or inexperienced enough, leeching if they are strong or experienced enough to know better but would rather remain weak. They don’t contribute to the world. They only take from it, and if a man remains in this state, he is no better than a sheep. Numbered men are as disposable and interchangeable as the animals they mimic. The face cards are men who have seen the way the world works, who know the only way to survive is to kill or be killed. These men are the cannibals. They drive and lead the parasites, bluffing them into traps and bleeding them when necessary for their own survival or for that of the parasites they have chosen to protect. Depending on what level of face card they are, they bleed them to serve those they owe allegiance to. This is the way of the world. You may find it harsh or overly simplified. But in the end you will find these are your choices. You may be a face card, or you may be a number. The power to choose is yours. Aces are unique because they can be both a face card and a numbered card. But no matter what they are, they will always be the lowest of the low or the highest of the high—and because of this, they will always be alone. An ace does not evolve, but rather he constantly explores his dual nature. When he leads, he is acutely aware of his underlings, unable to use them with the casualness that his fellow face cards will do. When he is brought low, he is equally aware of the thin veil separating him from where he is supposed to be, and he can’t forget how he and his fellows in servitude should be treated. An ace is seldom at home unless he is with his own kind, and many fall into despair and find themselves wedged quite firmly in the low side of their nature. There are few aces in the world, and so most aces, no matter who they are with, feel alone. And that, my children, is the Parable of the Cards. Take it to heart, because the secret to life lies within it.

His life seemed like a deck of cards, and in the midst of all those two’s and three’s someone had thrown him an Ace and a King, but they were still different suits. He didn’t know what to discard or what to keep, and he was scared to death to lay them down.

It was always the innocent ones you had to watch, Kim Toy thought wryly. Their strength was as the strength of ten because their hearts were pure and their sincerity made them lethal.

The tattoo I touched was of two cards. A queen. And an ace.

He told me that a king was nothing without his queen. That the two most important cards in a deck were the ace and the queen. You want the ace up your sleeve. And you need the queen at your back because women fight dirty.

Americans,” Kuzis spat. “You have it so easy, and then you come to us and preach that we should act as you act. But we’re not holding aces.” “Like I said, Kuzis, you haven’t seen my hand.” “I don’t need to.” “Let me tell you something,” Lance said, “not that it will do you much good now, but the difference between you and me isn’t that I was dealt four aces, and you weren’t.” “What is it then?” “It’s that I play like I was dealt four aces.” Kuzis let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, I see. You’re just bluffing your way to victory then.” “I’m saying, it isn’t the same as a card game, Kuzis. You’re only dealt one hand in life. One hand. And that’s the hand you play.

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.

You can hide a lot, or maybe just get away with a lot, if you play your cards right. I only hope the hand I'm about to deal myself will hold an ace or two.

The Ace of Wands is a symbol of possibility in the area of creativity, excitement, adventure, courage, and personal power.

The Ace of Swords is a symbol of possibility in the area of intelligence, reason, justice, truth, clarity, and fortitude.

An excellent example of a proactive network marketing professional is Lenny Evans. When Lenny was introduced to network marketing he was already working close to 80 hours a week, yet he knew that getting the word out to as many people as possible was the only way to see results. Lenny made a decision never to eat lunch alone and to talk to a minimum of two people each day, five days a week. After his first year, Lenny had talked to 520 people. Ninety percent of them rejected Lenny’s opportunity but 10 percent said yes. So he signed 52 people in his first year. Interestingly, 52 is the number of cards in a full deck, and like a deck of cards, there are four aces to be found. Those same numbers held true for Lenny because among those 52 people, he had four true “aces.” During the next four years, Lenny and his “four aces” brought more than 23,000 people into his business! Indeed, being proactive was the key to Lenny’s success. He took initiative and made things happen. Resourcefulness

The Wizard of Odds Stand on stiff totals of 12 to 16 when dealer's not ace up. Make insurance bets when remaining cards are ten-rich. Double when you want a ten, getting closer to 21. Surrender more in high counts, the savings will be greater. Split high cards and/or off of a weak dealer card. Blackjack player gets paid 3 to 2, dealer does not. Into the pit enters Casino ex machina ~ The s-h-u-f-f-l-i-n-g machine. The Wizard of Odds proclaims, 'All y'allz counters are fucked now!' Off from the tables to the loose slots they go bitchin' 'bout the pit boss and all things techno.

Truth is controversial today, but there must be no shying away from stage three and its insistence on the question of truth. And once again the conclusion at the end of this stage is plain. Far from an embarrassment to the Christian faith, the Bible’s insistence on truth is an ace that trumps all other cards. There is no faith that takes truth more seriously than the Christian faith, and with greater consequences for its whole view of life. Christian faith therefore stands and falls unashamedly by its claims to truth.

D’aron the Daring, Derring, Derring-do, stealing base, christened D’aron Little May Davenport, DD to Nana, initials smothered in Southern-fried kisses, dat Wigga D who like Jay Z aw-ite, who’s down, Scots-Irish it is, D’aron because you’re brave says Dad, No, D’aron because you’re daddy’s daddy was David and then there was mines who was named Aaron, Doo-doo after cousin Quint blew thirty-six months in vo-tech on a straight-arm bid and they cruised out to Little Gorge glugging Green Grenades and read three years’ worth of birthday cards, Little Mays when he hit those three homers in the Pee Wee playoff, Dookie according to his aunt Boo (spiteful she was, misery indeed loves company), Mr. Hanky when they discovered he TIVOed ‘Battlestar Galactica,’ Faggot when he hugged John Meer in third grade, Faggot again when he drew hearts on everyone’s Valentine’s Day cards in fourth grade, Dim Dong-Dong when he undressed in the wrong dressing room because he daren’t venture into the dark end of the gym, Philadelphia Freedom when he was caught clicking heels to that song (Tony thought he was clever with that one), Mr. Davenport when he won the school’s debate contest in eighth grade, Faggot again when he won the school’s debate contest in eighth grade, Faggot again more times than he cared to remember, especially the summer he returned from Chicago sporting a new Midwest accent, harder on the vowels and consonants alike, but sociable, played well with others that accent did, Faggot again when he cried at the end of ‘WALL-E,’ Donut Hole when he started to swell in ninth grade, Donut Black Hole when he continued to put on weight in tenth grade (Tony thought he was really clever with that one), Buttercup when they caught him gardening, Hippie when he stopped hunting, Faggot again when he became a vegetarian and started wearing a MEAT IS MURDER pin (Oh yeah, why you craving mine then?), Faggot again when he broke down in class over being called Faggot, Sissy after that, whispered, smothered in sniggers almost hidden, Ron-Ron by the high school debate team coach because he danced like a cross between Morrissey and some fat old black guy (WTF?) in some old-ass show called ‘What’s Happening!!’, Brainiac when he aced the PSATs for his region, Turd Nerd when he hung with Jo-Jo and the Black Bruiser, D’ron Da’ron, D’aron, sweet simple Daron the first few minutes of the first class of the first day of college.

Life is not a matter of choices! Life is handed to you, a couple of cards that have cycled through the grimy hands of hundreds of players before you. There are no aces hidden up your sleeve. There is no shortcut to success and happiness. Sleight of hand will only earn you a bloody nose and a thrashing in the alley outback. So instead, you play the few good cards you have and do what you can with the bad, and you play fair. There is no choice.

You never get one hundred percent odds, Sam. But your cards are fucking aces.

Cornelius and Iggy were in the final round and their opponents, who were from the city, displeased and spiteful, not a sound in that room until, at the very zenith, cries of disbelief as it turned out that Cornelius had the knave, the ace, and the king, each of which he threw down with a braggart air and Iggy pooled the winning cards onto his lap. They were the joint winners.

Hope turns the wheels of tomorrow's good fortune." From the Ace of Cups in Tarot D'Amour" by K. & V. Daniels & Victor Daniaels

Hope turns the wheels of tomorrow's good fortune." From the Ace of Cups in Tarot D'Amour

All right, Lord Ashton. If I win the trick, you will ask Miss Sinclair for the first dance. If you win, I will grant you my first dance when I am able to walk again. However long it takes.” He met her gaze with a sudden intensity that made her stomach flutter with nerves. “I accept the wager.” Very deliberately, she chose his weakest suit and laid down the king of hearts. She never took her eyes off him, but let him see that she had taken this quite seriously. He was not going to defeat her. “Oh dear,” Lady Penford said, following suit with a queen. “Lily, can you help?” But Lily only discarded a ten. “I’m sorry, but someone dealt me a rubbish hand once again.” She glared at Rose. All eyes turned to Iain. He withdrew a single card from his hand but did not lay it down. For a moment, they all waited for him to make his move. He didn’t smile at all, but locked his green eyes upon hers. She couldn’t read his expression, for he offered neither defeat nor triumph. “Go on, Ashton,” she urged. “If you have a card to play, then set it down. Admit your defeat.” With that, he turned over his card and laid down the ace of hearts.

You figured out the riddle, played the final hand of cards. Way to go, Ace.

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.

A Ten takes the themes introduced by an Ace to their logical conclusion.

An ace always represents positive forces. It is the standard-bearer for the best its suit has to offer.

Aces are portals between the realms of the major and minor arcanas. They allow powerful, but impersonal forces to come into your everyday life.

But Celeste doesn’t know me well enough yet. If I don’t get the cards that I need to win the hand, I fucking take them. Too many years were spent at the mercy of fucked-up dealing. I’m not the guy who makes the best of shitty hands. I’m the guy who swindles the dealer, shuffles the cards in my favor, and claims the goddamn ace. She’s mine now. Whether she accepts it or not. The thing is, I can’t simply take her. She’s too fiery and obstinate. Well, I could—and will if necessary. But she grasps for control in everything because she has none. I’d like my girl to feel empowered to choose me rather than coerced to let go of her fucked-up rescue mission—a plight her family should not be forcing on her.

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.

Comyn thought it was funny. It was very funny, indeed, that men making the second Big Jump in history, that men going faster and farther than any men but five had ever gone before, separated only by metal walls from the awfulness of infinity, should sit and play games with little plastic cards and pretend they were not where they were.

I'm mooring my rowboat / at the dock of the island called God. / This dock is made in the shape of a fish / and there are many boats moored / at many different docks. / 'It's okay,' I say to myself / with blisters that broke and healed / and broke and healed -- / saving themselves over and over. / And salt sticking to my face and arms like / a glue-skin pocked with grains of tapioca. / I empty myself from my wooden boat / and onto the flesh of The Island. 'On with it!' He says and thus / we squat on the rocks by the sea / and play - can it be true - / a game of poker. / He calls me. / I win because I hold a royal straight flush. / He wins because He holds five aces, / A wild card had been announced / but I had not heard it / being in such a state of awe / when he took out the cards and dealt. / As he plunks down his five aces / and I am still grinning at my royal flush, / He starts to laugh, / and laughter rolling like a hoop out of His mouth / and into mine / and such laughter that He doubles right over me / laughing a Rejoice-Chorus at our two triumphs. / Then I laugh, the fishy dock laughs / the sea laughs. The Island laughs. / The Absurd laughs. Dearest dealer, / I with my royal straight flush, / love you so for your wild card, / that untamable, eternal, gut-driven ha-ha / and lucky love.

she was pretty sure he was Ace Freeman because he had the name Ace tattooed onto his right bicep above an inking of the playing card. You didn’t need to be a private investigator to figure it out.

Light begins to shine out to the world, and thought emerges swiftly. She feels a smile form and her brain begins to buzz. Understanding.

Perhaps the best compromise between power and simplicity is the High–Low, or the Complete Point Count, which appears in the 1966 revised edition of Beat the Dealer. Still used today by top professionals, this is the simplest possible point count in that cards get values of −1, 0, or +1 only. You start with the count at 0. As the “small” cards 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 are used, they each add +1 to the cumulative count. The intermediate cards 7, 8, and 9 are counted as 0 so their appearance doesn’t affect the total count. Big cards—Aces and Ten-value cards—count as −1 so they each reduce the total by one. Suppose the player using the High–Low count sees these cards in the first round of play: A, 5, 6, 9, 2, 3. Then the count, which started with zero, becomes −1 + 1 + 1 + 0 + 1 + 1 = +3. With this count in a one-deck game—and with reasonably favorable rules—the player has an edge on the next deal. As cards are dealt, the count goes up and down around zero. When the count is positive the player benefits, and when it is negative it helps the casino.

I’m making no assumptions, swear,” he holds up his palms, where a heavily inked ace on his right wrist poses as a permanent top card up his sleeve. Clever. He winks, and it feels like a kiss on the cheek.

Fortunately, they had a card up their sleeve. Or rather, an entire deck made entirely of aces. As they said, if you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying hard enough.

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,

You can hide a lot, or maybe just get away with a lot, if you play your cards right. I only hope the hand I'm about to deal myself will hold an ace or two.

Alvin is working in his store when he hears a booming voice from above that says, “Alvin, sell your business!” He ignores it. The voice goes on for days saying, “Alvin, sell your business for three million dollars!” After weeks of this, he relents and sells his store. The voice says, “Alvin, go to Las Vegas!” Alvin asks why. “Alvin, just take the three million dollars and go to Las Vegas.”Alvin obeys, goes to Las Vegas, and visits a casino. The voice says, “Alvin, go to the blackjack table and put it all down on one hand!” Alvin hesitates but gives in. He’s dealt an eighteen. The dealer has a six showing. “Alvin, take a card!” “What? The dealer has …” “Take a card!” Alvin tells the dealer to hit him, and gets an ace. Nineteen. He breathes easy. “Alvin, take another card.” “What?” “TAKE ANOTHER CARD!” Alvin asks for another card. It’s another ace. He has twenty. “Alvin, take another card!” the voice commands. “I have twenty!” Alvin shouts. “TAKE ANOTHER CARD!” booms the voice. “Hit me!” Alvin says. He gets another ace. Twenty-one! And the booming voice says, “Un-fucking-believable!” Hey,

Figure 17. The court cards are elemental aspects of the ace. Table 3. Elemental Subdivisions of the Aces and Court Cards Four pentagrams, representing the ace and four court cards of each suit, are placed upon the extremities the Rose Cross of Manifestation.

The great players don’t play that way. It’s too draining, and it makes you too much the victim. And the victim doesn’t win. Bad table draw? It’s a challenging table that will force you to play well. You can’t change tables, so you may as well call on all your inner powers to play the best version of your game. See it as an opportunity to learn. Card dead? No one knows that. If your face reads card dead, everyone will walk all over you as you meekly fold. If you decide to take the opportunity to cultivate a conservative image and then make a well-timed move, suddenly you have the upper hand. The best players don’t need pocket aces to win. Everything is in how you perceive it.

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.

Somewhere, I did not make it, over there, everywhere and anywhere.

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.

Not all cards, always, in our hand will be ACE.

We both laugh, but when she gets closer and his eyes drift over her long, tanned legs, the laugh clogs in my throat. “For real, Matty, I’m gonna fuck you up you keep looking at her like that.” Our eyes connect again and I can’t even hold on to my ire, not with him. Second to Amir, he’s been my ace boom since diaper days. I’d trust him with my life. Growing up in these streets, I’ve had to more than once. Bristol reaches us at the table and stands beside me. I capture her hand and bring it to my lips. “You wanna sit?” I ask her. She looks at the full card table, smiling at the other three guys playing Spades with me. “There’s nowhere to sit.” “As long as I got a lap,” I say, patting my leg, “you got a place to sit.

Okay. So you know, you need to beat the dealer. Yeah?” he began. I nodded. “Okay. When you count cards, you have to remember; cards between 2 and 6 have a value of a plus one. Cards between seven and nine have a value of zero. Cards between ten and ace have a value of negative one.

He’s the ace. Your wild card.