Auction Related Quotes

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Your loved ones can sympathize but never relate.
Cara Dee (Deserted (Auctioned, #3))
Yes?Someone will die at the auction! Tsk! First, the mail will be late, and next, the death alarm is related to the High Auction.
Misba (The High Auction (Wisdom Revolution, #1))
The man who wields the blood-clotted cowskin during the week fills the pulpit on Sunday, and claims to be a minister of the meek and lowly Jesus. The man who robs me of my earnings at the end of each week meets me as a class- leader on Sunday morning, to show me the way of life, and the path of salvation. He who sells my sister, for purposes of prostitution, stands forth as the pious advocate of purity. He who proclaims it a religious duty to read the Bible denies me the right of learning to read the name of the God who made me. He who is the religious advocate of marriage robs whole millions of its sacred influence, and leaves them to the ravages of wholesale pollution. The warm defender of the sacredness of the family relation is the same that scatters whole families,— sundering husbands and wives, parents and children, sisters and brothers,—leaving the hut vacant, and the hearth desolate. We see the thief preaching against theft, and the adulterer against adultery. We have men sold to build churches, women sold to support the gospel, and babes sold to purchase Bibles for the poor heathen! all for the glory of God and the good of souls! The slave auctioneer’s bell and the church-going bell chime in with each other, and the bitter cries of the heart-broken slave are drowned in the religious shouts of his pious master. Revivals of religion and revivals in the slave-trade go hand in hand together. The slave prison and the church stand near each other. The clanking of fetters and the rattling of chains in the prison, and the pious psalm and solemn prayer in the church, may be heard at the same time. The dealers in the bodies and souls of men erect their stand in the presence of the pulpit, and they mutually help each other. The dealer gives his blood-stained gold to support the pulpit, and the pulpit, in return, covers his infernal business with the garb of Christianity. Here we have religion and robbery the allies of each other—devils dressed in angels’ robes, and hell presenting the semblance of paradise.
Frederick Douglass (Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass)
On a spring day in 1988…a Massachusetts man who collected books about local history was rummaging through a bin in a New Hampshire antiques barn when something caught his eye. Beneath texts on fertilizers and farm machines lay a slim, worn pamphlet with tea-colored paper covers, titled Tamerlane and Other Poems, by an unnamed author identified simply as “a Bostonian.” He was fairly certain he had found something exceptional, paid the $15 price, and headed home, where Tamerlane would spend only one night. The next day, he contacted Sotheby’s, and they confirmed his suspicion that he had just made one of the most exciting book discoveries in years. The pamphlet was a copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s first text, written when he was only fourteen years old, a find that fortune-seeking collectors have imagined happening upon probably more than they’d like to admit. The humble-looking, forty-page pamphlet was published in 1827 by Calvin F.S. Thomas, a relatively unknown Boston printer who specialized in apothecary labels, and its original price was about twelve cents. But this copy, looking good for its 161 years, most of which were probably spent languishing in one dusty attic box after another, would soon be auctioned for a staggering $198,000.
Allison Hoover Bartlett (The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession)
○Establishment of basic plans for spectrum promotion and policies related to spectrum assignment and auctioning ○Spectrum use and spectrum fee-related policy
소라넷새주소
privatising the weaker ones, this space could become even more interesting. The government’s intention to continue with economic reforms is clear from the fact that it brought two ordinances, to clear bills relating to insurance and coal, after the legislative process was stymied by the opposition. Without going ahead with auctioning of coal blocks, India’s power sector would have been badly hit in 2015, and hence it was necessary to bring in an ordinance. What’s in store for 2015? The US will raise interest rates, which will lead to some outflow from emerging markets. But after that foreign money will return, provided that the government continues with its economic reforms. The Make in India campaign would bring back jobs with Prime Minister Narendra Modi asking all his ministries to make it easier to do business in India. A dip either caused by foreign institutional investment outflow or due to a harsher than expected budget or to a political crisis, should be an opportunity to enter the markets.  (J Mulraj is a stock market commentator and India head for Euromoney Conferences;views are personal) Now,
Anonymous
Kusha asks herself another question, making sure Taha doesn’t notice. Will death happen today? (a) Yes (b) No. No. She ignites the engine. When will it happen and where?—she thinks, but no answer comes. It’s not a yes-no question, and she has no options to choose from. So, just as her machine-bugs calculate their next moves, her mind storms, creating and canceling options: the death alarm came after looking at the mail-box ... mail has a connection … the auction entry-ticket … maybe it has something to do with the High Auction? Kusha frowns. Will anyone die in the High Auction? (a) Yes (b) No. Yes. Yes? Someone will die at the auction! Tsk! First, the mail will be late, and next, the death alarm is related to the High Auction. Is it a bad sign? (a) Yes (b) No. Yes. Of course, it’s a bad sign! Unnecessary question! Is it an omen? (a) Yes (b) No. Yes. Is it only one death? Kusha keeps asking questions one after another...
Misba
Regardless of who “owned” Gazprom, Vyakhirev controlled it. In the absence of effective law enforcement and with powerful allies in the Kremlin, Vyakhirev and other Gazprom executives bought shares in the company through rigged auctions. They exported gas through intermediaries owned by their relatives, selling gas to shell companies at below-market prices and allowing the company to resell gas at the full price, pocketing the difference. In theory, the company was partially private and partially state-controlled.
Chris Miller (Putinomics: Power and Money in Resurgent Russia)
In general, outside of the auction cycle, 2 Year Notes accumulate the most shorts when the market expects the Fed to raise rates or there are a lot of yield curve flattening trades. “Flatteners” mean the Street is expecting short-term rates to rise relative to long-term rates. Proprietary trading groups will short-sell the 2 Year Note and buy the 10 Year Note against it. Given that the duration of the 10 Year Note is about five times greater than the 2 Year Note, it means that they are short-selling about five times as many 2 Year Notes as 10 Year Notes to be correctly risk weighted. When big hedge funds are in this trade, the 2 Year Note can get extremely Special.
Scott E.D. Skyrm (The Repo Market, Shorts, Shortages, and Squeezes)
There’s Tom,” Becky says. He’s been tromping around the city half the day, but I don’t see a speck of mud on him. Though he dresses plain, it always seems he rolls out of bed in the morning with his hair and clothes as neat and ordered as his arguments. We walk over to join him, and he acknowledges us with a slight, perfectly controlled nod. He’s one of the college men, three confirmed bachelors who left Illinois College to join our wagon train west. Compared to the other two, Tom Bigler is a bit of a closed book—one of those big books with tiny print you use as a doorstop or for smashing bugs. And he’s been closing up tighter and tighter since we blew up Uncle Hiram’s gold mine, when Tom negotiated with James Henry Hardwick to get us out of that mess. “How goes the hunt for an office?” I ask. “Not good,” Tom says. “I found one place—only one place—and it’s a cellar halfway up the side of one those mountains.” Being from Illinois, which I gather is flat as a griddle, Tom still thinks anything taller than a tree is a mountain. “Maybe eight foot square, no windows and a dirt floor, and they want a thousand dollars a month for it.” “Is it the cost or the lack of windows that bothers you?” He pauses. Sighs. “Believe it or not, that’s a reasonable price. Everything else I’ve found is worse—five thousand a month for the basement of the Ward Hotel, ten thousand a month for a whole house. The land here is more valuable than anything on it, even gold. I’ve never seen so many people trying to cram themselves into such a small area.” “So it’s the lack of windows.” He gives me a side-eyed glance. “I came to California to make a fortune, but it appears a fortune is required just to get started. I may have to take up employment with an existing firm, like this one.” Peering at us more closely, he says, “I thought you were going to acquire the Joyner house? I mean, I’m glad to see you, but it seems things have gone poorly?” “They’ve gone terribly,” Becky says. “They haven’t gone at all,” I add. “They’ll only release it to Mr. Joyner,” Becky says. Tom’s eyebrows rise slightly. “I did mention that this could be a problem, remember?” “Only a slight one,” I say with more hope than conviction. “Without Mr. Joyner’s signature,” Becky explains, “they’ll sell my wedding cottage at auction. Our options are to buy back what’s ours, which I don’t want to do, or sue to recover it, which is why I’ve come to find you.” If I didn’t know Tom so well, I might miss the slight frown turning his lips. He says, “There’s no legal standing to sue. Andrew Junior is of insufficient age, and both his and Mr. Joyner’s closest male relative would be the family patriarch back in Tennessee. You see, it’s a matter of cov—” “Coverture!” says Becky fiercely. “I know. So what can I do?” “There’s always robbery.” I’m glad I’m not drinking anything, because I’m pretty sure I’d spit it over everyone in range. “Tom!” Becky says. “Are you seriously suggesting—?” “I’m merely outlining your full range of options. You don’t want to buy it back. You have no legal standing to sue for it. That leaves stealing it or letting it go.” This is the Tom we’ve started to see recently. A little angry, maybe a little dangerous. I haven’t made up my mind if I like the change or not. “I’m not letting it go,” Becky says. “Just because a bunch of men pass laws so other men who look just like them can legally steal? Doesn’t mean they should get away with it.” We’ve been noticed; some of the men in the office are eyeing us curiously. “How would you go about stealing it back, Tom?” I ask in a low voice, partly to needle him and partly to find out what he really thinks. He glances around, brows knitting. “I suppose I would get a bunch of men who look like me to pass some laws in my favor and then take it back through legal means.” I laugh in spite of myself. “You’re no help at all,” Becky says.
Rae Carson (Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy, #3))
As we’ll discuss in more detail in chapter 6, a platform’s ability to monetize the value of the exchanges it facilitates is directly related to the types of currency exchange it can capture and internalize. A platform that can internalize the flow of money may be well placed to charge a transaction cut—for example, the fee of 10 percent of the sale price typically charged by eBay after a successful auction. A platform that can capture only attention may monetize its business by collecting payments from a third party that considers the attention valuable—for example, an advertiser willing to pay Facebook for “eyeballs” attracted by posts related to a particular topic. The platform’s goal, then, is to bring together producers and consumers and enable them to engage in these three forms of exchange: of information, of goods or services, and of currency. The platform provides an infrastructure that participants plug in to, which provides tools and rules to make exchanges easy and mutually rewarding.
Geoffrey G. Parker (Platform Revolution: How Networked Markets Are Transforming the Economy and How to Make Them Work for You: How Networked Markets Are Transforming the Economy―and How to Make Them Work for You)
When he had ate his fill, and proceeded from the urgent first cup and necessary second to the voluntary third which might be toyed with at leisure, without any particular outcry seeming to suggest he should be on his guard, he leant back, spread the city’s news before him, and, by glances between the items, took a longer survey of the room. Session of the Common Council. Vinegars, Malts, and Spirituous Liquors, Available on Best Terms. Had he been on familiar ground, he would have been able to tell at a glance what particular group of citizens in the great empire of coffee this house aspired to serve: whether it was the place for poetry or gluttony, philosophy or marine insurance, the Indies trade or the meat-porters’ burial club. Ships Landing. Ships Departed. Long Island Estate of Mr De Kyper, with Standing Timber, to be Sold at Auction. But the prints on the yellowed walls were a mixture. Some maps, some satires, some ballads, some bawdy, alongside the inevitable picture of the King: pop-eyed George reigning over a lukewarm graphical gruel, neither one thing nor t’other. Albany Letter, Relating to the Behaviour of the Mohawks. Sermon, Upon the Dedication of the Monument to the Late Revd. Vesey. Leases to be Let: Bouwerij, Out Ward, Environs of Rutgers’ Farm. And the company? River Cargos Landed. Escaped Negro Wench: Reward Offered. – All he could glean was an impression generally businesslike, perhaps intersown with law. Dramatic Rendition of the Classics, to be Performed by the Celebrated Mrs Tomlinson. Poem, ‘Hail Liberty, Sweet Succor of a Briton’s Breast’, Offered by ‘Urbanus’ on the Occasion of His Majesty’s Birthday. Over there there were maps on the table, and a contract a-signing; and a ring of men in merchants’ buff-and-grey quizzing one in advocate’s black-and-bands. But some of the clients had the wind-scoured countenance of mariners, and some were boys joshing one another. Proceedings of the Court of Judicature of the Province of New-York. Poor Law Assessment. Carriage Rates. Principal Goods at Mart, Prices Current. Here he pulled out a printed paper of his own from an inner pocket, and made comparison of certain figures, running his left and right forefingers down the columns together. Telescopes and Spy-Glasses Ground. Regimental Orders. Dinner of the Hungarian Club. Perhaps there were simply too few temples here to coffee, for them to specialise as he was used.
Francis Spufford (Golden Hill)