Adventure Time Stakes Quotes

Far back in the mists of ancient time, in the great and glorious days of the former Galactic Empire, life was wild, rich and largely tax free. Mighty starships plied their way between exotic suns, seeking adventure and reward among the furthest reaches of Galactic space. In those days spirits were brave, the stakes were high, men were real men, women were real women and small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri were real small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri. And all dared to brave unknown terrors, to do mighty deeds, to boldly split infinitives that no man had split before--and thus was the Empire forged. ...In these enlightened days, of course, no one believes a word of it.

Over time, this unspoken attration continued to blossom, refusing to dwindle or fade, though they had little opportunity to foster or nourish it. Slowly and patiently, Robert's sheer persistence in the chase had revealed his heart, and Charlotte came to realize the nameless thing between them was love.

Apparently the Time Lords have a long and honourable tradition of genocide when they think the stakes are high enough

Granted it is easy at least comparatively to find pleasure in error when there's nothing at stake. But that can't be the whole story since all of us have been known to throw tantrums over totally trivial mistakes. What makes illusions different is that for the most part we enter in them by consent. We might not know exactly how we are going to err but we know that the error is coming and we say yes to the experience anyways. In a sense much the same thing could be said of life in general. We can't know where your next error lurks or what form it will take but we can be very sure that it is waiting for us. With illusions we look forward to this encounter since whatever minor price we paid in pride is handily outweighed by curiosity at first and by pleasure afterward. The same will not always true when we venture past these simple perceptual failures to more complex and consequential mistakes But nor is willing the embrace of error always beyond us. In fact this might be the most important thing that illusions can teach us: that is is possible at least some of the time to find in being wrong a deeper satisfaction then we would have found being right.

The God of revealed religions—and by this I mean religions like yours, Taker religions—is a profoundly inarticulate God. No matter how many times he tries, he can’t make himself clearly or completely understood. He speaks for centuries to the Jews but fails to make himself understood. At last he sends his only-begotten son, and his son can’t seem to do any better. Jesus might have sat himself down with a scribe and dictated the answers to every conceivable theological question in absolutely unequivocal terms, but he chose not to, leaving subsequent generations to settle what Jesus had in mind with pogroms, purges, persecutions, wars, the burning stake, and the rack. Having failed through Jesus, God next tried to make himself understood through Muhammad, with limited success, as always. After a thousand years of silence he tried again with Joseph Smith, with no better results. Averaging it out, all God has been able to tell us for sure is that we should do unto others as we’d have them do unto us. What’s that—a dozen words? Not much to show for five thousand years of work, and we probably could have figured out that much for ourselves anyway. To be honest, I’d be embarrassed to be associated with a god as incompetent as that.

Ian Fleming The CBC Interview, 1953 He doesn’t use Anglo-Saxon four-letter words, “I don’t like seeing them on the page.” When asked why his novels are so popular in light of the dirtiness of the trade (of espionage), Fleming said, “The books have pace and plenty of action. And espionage is not regarded by the majority of the public as a dirty trade. They regard it as a rather sort of ah, ah very romantic affair… Spying has always been regarded as (a) very romantic one-man job, so-to-speak. A one man against a whole police force or an army.” Regarding heroes of his time, Fleming said, “I think that although they may have feet of clay, ah, we probably all have, and all human beings have, there’s no point in dwelling entirely on the feet. There are many other parts of the animal to be examined. And I think people like to read about heroes.” BBC Interview on Desert Island Discs Question: Had the character of James Bond been growing in your mind for a long time? Ian Fleming’s response: “No, I can’t say I had, really. He sort of, ah, developed when I was just on the edge of getting married, after having been a bachelor for so long, and I really wanted to take my mind off the agony. And so I decided to sit down and write a book.” Question: How much long do you think you can keep Bond going? Ian Fleming’s response: “Well, I don’t know. It depends on how much I, how much more I can go on following his adventures.” Question: You don’t feel he’s keeping you from more serious writing? Ian Fleming’s response: “No. I’m not in the Shakespeare stakes. I’ve got no ambitions.

Thy prospects are poor. The desperate dance, in which thy fortunes are caught up, will last yet many a sinful year; we should not care to set a high stake on thy life by the time it ends. We even confess that it is without great concern we leave the question open. Adventures of the flesh and in the spirit, while enhancing thy simplicity, granted thee to know in the spirit what in the flesh thou scarcely couldst have done. Moments there were, when out of death, and the rebellion of the flesh, there came to thee, as thou tookest stock of thyself, a dream of love. Out of this universal feast of death, out of this extremity of fever, kindling the rain-washed evening sky to a fiery glow, may it be that Love one day shall mount?

Tell me about your adventures, Abigail. Any diabolical new cases to investigate?” “Yes, as a matter of fact—bones and bodies and everything. We’ll be leaving for Gad’s Valley tomorrow.” “Isn’t that where that handsome young policeman of yours got stationed? What’s his name?” I felt my cheeks flush, which made Jenny smile impishly. “Charlie is hardly my anything,” I said. “But yes, he’ll be involved. Not that there are enough flowers in the world to make that romance a reality.” “You don’t need flowers, dear. You need confidence. Next time you see him, you should just go right up to him and plant a kiss on that boy’s pretty face.” “Jenny!” “Fortune favors the bold, Abigail!” “Sure it does. The last time I was bold, I nearly got the man killed, and then he changed his name and moved a hundred miles away. That’s not exactly a strong start to a relationship.” “You silly girl. Of course it is—he risked his life for you!” “Oh, never mind about it, anyway. I’m not going to the valley looking for romance—there are more important matters at stake. I’m looking for a murderer.” “You should definitely have kissed him right after the big fight.” Jenny smiled, willfully ignoring my protests. She let her gaze drift to the window. “My fiancé got in a fight over me, once. He lost terribly, the poor man—he never was much of a pugilist. He looked like an absolute mess afterward, with gauze wadded up in each nostril and one eye all swollen, but it was still just the sweetest thing. And the stupidest. I told him as much . . . right before I kissed him.” She turned her eyes meaningfully back to me. “Because that’s what you do.

What are the stakes?" I looked at Aahz. I had been so busy trying to learn how Dragon poker was played that I had never gotten around to asking about the stakes. For some reason, my partner looked incomfortable. "Table stakes" he said. "Table stakes? " I frowned "What is that?" I halfexpected him to tell me he'd explain lter, but instead he addressed the subject with supriting euthusiasm. "In table stakes each of you starts with a certain amout of money. Then you play until one of you is out of chips or..." "I know what table stakes are." Don Bruce interuppted. "What I want to know is how much you're playing for?" Aahz hesitedted, then shugger. "A quater of a milion eatch". "A QUATER OF A MILION???" My voice had not hit that note since my voice changed. "We had not told him", my partner sighed. "I was afraid that if he knew what the stakes are he would clutch." "A quater of a milion" I repeated, a bit hoaser this time. "See?" Ahzz Grinned. "You are cluching.

King James is more famous today for his version of the Bible than for his belief in diabolical practices. But in 1597, more than a decade before the King James Bible was published, he wrote a treatise on demons and sorcery called Daemonologie, In Forme of a Dialogue. The king was obsessed with the occult, and with witches in particular, having flushed out a coven of at least 70 in 1590, when he was still known as King James VI of Scotland. The witches were tortured using devices like the “breast ripper”—which is exactly as horrific as it sounds—until they confessed. Eventually, some 4,000 people were burned at the stake in Scotland’s witch trials. In Daemonologie, the king wrote of his belief in cruentation as a way to mete out justice: In a secret murther, if the deade carcase be at any time thereafter handled by the murtherer, it will gush out of bloud, as if the bloud were crying out to the heaven for revenge of the murtherer, God having appoynted that secret super-naturall signe for tryall of that secret unnatural crime.*

But I’ve come to see easy googling as the antithesis of innovation and invention, likely pegging us back in the evolutionary stakes, because: 1) it obliterates curiosity, which is a foundation for fun, and cockups; 2) having oodles of information makes me feel like I’m about to roll out a script by the time I get to the start line, and I’m not an actor; and 3) getting to the point of something being easy means truckloads of energy has been spent gathering and scheming, and is potentially a critical waste of a lifetime if you consider mortal life to be all about bang-for-buck.

Historically time-stoppers don't have a great win-loss record, although they score high in the sentimental 'doing all the wrong things for the right reasons' stakes.

Aahz hesitedted, then shugger. "A quater of a milion eatch". "A QUATER OF A MILION???" My voice had not hit that note since my voice changed. "We had not told him", my partner sighed. "I was afraid that if he knew what the stakes are he would clutch." "A quater of a milion" I repeated, a bit hoaser this time. "See?" Ahzz Grinned. "You are cluching.

Most former Harvey Girls remembered the good times, the satisfying and happy times of their work. And when reading the reminiscences of the Harvey Girls, it is important to remember that they lived and worked in a time and a society that did not always applaud their choice to “go west” as single women, even when made out of economic necessity. They did not live in a time that admired spunk and independence in working women, despite the American West and its promises of freedom and space. That promise, historians are beginning to realize, was reserved for its male immigrants. The myth of the West was largely a male dream—an adventure of danger, risk, excitement, and high stakes. Neither women nor Indians counted.4 We have learned that both women and Indians did count; the extent of their contributions is still being uncovered. It is only recently, in a society interested in its women’s history, that women like the Harvey Girls have been hailed as contributors to the American story. Only a few decades ago, the women in this book would have told their life stories to a stranger reluctantly, questioning the premise behind so many inquiries into their daily lives. Their pride and enthusiasm for the work they did, the role they played along the Santa Fe Railway, has only now found an appreciative audience.

I have been asked many times: If I had to do it all over, would I choose the same path? My answer is yes, a thousand times, yes. I had a grand adventure. I learned to believe in myself. I was brave, and I went big. I was also reckless and selfish. I got lost along the way. I abandoned the things that mattered and traded them for wealth and statues. I lusted for power and I hurt people. But I was forced to face myself, to lose everything, to fall on my face in front of the world, and the lessons I learned on the way up were just as valuable as the ones on the way down. I know that this time I will use everything I have learned to do something that matters.

My father was handsome, charismatic, and complicated. He was a practicing psychologist and a professor at Colorado State University. The education of his children was of paramount importance to him. If my brothers and I didn’t bring home A’s and B’s, we were in big trouble. That being said, he always encouraged us to pursue our dreams. At home he was affectionate, playful, and loving, but when it came to our performance in school and athletics, he demanded excellence. He was filled with a fiery passion that at times was so intense, it was almost terrifying. Nothing was “recreational” in our family; everything was a lesson in pushing past the limits and being the best we could possibly be.