Bateman Quotes

...there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.

…there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent human being. My personality is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent. My conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Harvard) if they ever did exist. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still, though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is redeemed. Yet I am blameless. Each model of human behavior must be assumed to have some validity. Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this—and I have countless times, in just about every act I’ve committed—and coming face-to-face with these truths, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new understanding can be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any of this. This confession has meant nothing….

Why not? Give me one good reason why we shouldn't get married." Because trying to fuck you is like trying to french-kiss a very.... small and... lively gerbil? With braces?

This is true: the world is better off with some people gone. Our lives are not all interconnected. That theory is crock. Some people truly do not need to be here.

I felt lethal, on the verge of frenzy. My nightly bloodlust overflowed into my days and I had to leave the city. My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage. This was the bone season for me and I needed a vacation.

Patrick Bateman: I'm on a diet. Jean: What, you're kidding, right? You look great... so fit... and thin. Patrick Bateman: Well, you can always be thinner... look better. Jean: Then maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I wouldn't want you to lose your willpower. Patrick Bateman: That's okay. I'm not very good at controlling it anyway. Share this quote

You know," Glen Bateman said, looking out toward Grand Junction in the early light of morning, "I've heard the saying 'That sucks' for years without really being sure of what it meant. Now I think I know.

You don't know what torture is. You don't know what you're talking about. You really don't know what you're talking about.

The seals stupidly dive off rocks into swirling black water, barking mindlessly. The zookeepers feed them dead fish. A crowd gathers around the tank, mostly adults, a few accompanied by children. On the seals' tank a plaque warns: COINS CAN KILL——IF SWALLOWED, COINS CAN LODGE IN AN ANIMAL'S STOMACH AND CAUSE ULCERS, INFECTIONS AND DEATH. DO NOT THROW COINS IN THE POOL. So what do I do? Toss a handful of change into the tank when none of the zookeepers are watching. It's not the seals I hate——it's the audience's enjoyment of them that bothers me.

I could stay living in this city if they just installed Blaupunkts in the cabs.

There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that Paul's apartment overlooks the park... and is obviously more expensive than mine.

It's a powerful statement and one that Whitney sings with a grandeur that approaches the sublime. Its universal message crosses all boundaries and instills one with the hope that it's not too late for us to better ourselves, to act kinder. Since it's impossible in the world we live in to empathize with others, we can always empathize with ourselves. It's an important message, crucial really, and it's beautifully stated in this album.

Always strive to be a better parent to your children than your parents were to you. —DALEEN BATEMAN BARLOW

What do you think I do?” And frisky too. “A model?” She shrugs. “An actor?” “No,” I say. “Flattering, but no.” “Well?” “I’m into, oh, murders and executions mostly. It depends.” I shrug. “Do you like it?” she asks, unfazed. “Um… It depends. Why?” I take a bit of sorbet. “Well, most guys I know who work in mergers and acquisitions don’t really like it,” she says. “That’s not what I said,” I say, adding a forced smiled, finishing my J&B. “Oh, forget it.

If you dwell in the darkness, you can see in the dark and look into the light. But in choosing the darkness, you know you are destined to walk alone.

Books are precious things and cannot be selected like tinned peas in Tesco.

Bookselling is like prostitution, you sell your wares, you close your eyes, and you never fall in love with the clients. You also keep your fingers crossed that they won't ask for anything perverted.

But that's the thing about truth - even when you think you know it, it can still sneak up behind you and knock you down.

Is that what we come into the world for, to hurry to an office, and work hour after hour till night, then hurry home and dine and go to a theatre? Is that how I must spend my youth? Youth lasts so short a time, Bateman. And when I am old, what have I to look forward to? To hurry from my home in the morning to my office and work hour after hour after hour till night, and then hurry home again, and dine and go to a theatre? That may be worthwhile if you make a fortune; I don’t know, it depends on your nature; but if you don’t, is it worth while then? I want to make more out of my life than that, Bateman.

I have to return some video tapes." – Patrick Bateman's all-purpose exit excuse in "American Psycho

Don’t tell me he was another serial killer, Bateman. Not another serial killer.” “No, McDufus, he wasn’t a serial killer,

I try not to crave things I can't afford." "You are a world-class liar, August Bateman. Every inch of craves things you can't afford or don't feel like you're allowed to have.

I tried to speak, to tell Kit I wasn't dead. No sound came out. But I managed to lift one arm a few inches and execute a tiny wave. Hello, still alive. In a fuck ton of pain, but not dead.

He was the type of man women said they hated, they absolutely hated, they absolutely and categorically hated, and then they went to bed with him. I was the type of man women said they hated, and then they went home.

I then swept the crumbs into my palm and opened one of the empty drawers and poured them in. I was working on the theory that if I collected enough crumbs, eventually I could make my own Twix. It's good to have a purpose in life.

I don’t think it’s possible to put a time line to love. Once it’s there, it’s like there’s never been anything else. Time bends, and suddenly I knew that I’ve always loved you.

I don't need light to see you. I know what you are: a beautiful, infuriating force of nature.

Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great.

It takes some intelligence and insight to figure out you're gay and then a tremendous amount of balls to live it and live it proudly.

Cinderella never had it so good. All she got was a lousy coach and breakable shoes.

Serial Killer Week got off to an inauspicious start when the opening wine and bean evening was invaded by a former prisoner who misinterpreted the poster, but he was at least able to give us the professional's view of the genre.

… there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.

I’m so far from lucky, I’m kissing its ass from the other side.

If I ever decide to become a male tart, I'll use that quote on my trade cards. Tristan Montgomery: a hundred times better than your previous lover

I felt less like Cinderella and more like used drywall. Perpetually screwed.

I have to return some videotapes Patrick Bateman

He was like Christian Grey meets Howard Hughes meets Patrick Bateman.

They pulled their ringtabs and Bateman raised his can. “To us, Stu. May we have happy days, satisfied minds, and little or no low back pain.

They asked me how I would be paying and I told them that if past experience was anything to go by probably with my life and the thin girl with the thick spectacles reached deep into her soul for a smile and repeated the question.

Not very scientific,” Bateman said kindly. “What kind of an American are you? Show me a second dog—preferably a bitch—and I’ll accept your thesis that somewhere there is a third. But don’t show me one and from that posit a second. It won’t do.

…there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there. It is hard for me to make sense on any given level. Myself is fabricated, an aberration. I am a noncontingent human being. My personality is sketchy and unformed, my heartlessness goes deep and is persistent. My conscience, my pity, my hopes disappeared a long time ago (probably at Harvard) if they ever did exist. There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed. I still, though, hold on to one single bleak truth: no one is safe, nothing is redeemed. Yet I am blameless. Each model of human behavior must be assumed to have some validity. Is evil something you are? Or is it something you do? My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape.

If he’s alive, there will be others.” “Not very scientific,” Bateman said kindly. “What kind of an American are you? Show me a second dog—preferably a bitch—and I’ll accept your thesis that somewhere there is a third. But don’t show me one and from that posit a second. It won’t do.

There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I am simply not there.

there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.

…there is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.

there were two Patrick Batemans: there was the handsome and socially awkward boy next door whose name no one could remember because he seemed like everybody else—having conformed like everybody else—and there was the nocturnal Bateman who roamed the streets looking for prey, asserting his monstrousness, his individuality. At the end of the ’80s I saw this as an appropriate response to a society obsessed with the surface of things and inclined to ignore anything that even hinted at the darkness lurking below. The novel seemed an accurate summation of the Reagan era, with the Iran-Contra affair being obliquely referenced in the last chapter, and the violence unleashed inside was connected to my frustration, and at least hinted at something real and tangible in this superficial age of surfaces. Because blood and viscera were real, death was real, rape and murder were real—though in the world of American Psycho maybe they weren’t any more real than the fakery of the society being depicted. That was the book’s bleak thesis.

In the garden and not on the cross, Jesus saw each of us and not only bore our sins but also experienced our deepest feelings so he would know how to comfort and strengthen us.

If we truly want peace in the world, we have to do more than just dream about it.

And nobody has ever gotten emotional over a James Patterson novel.

Also, I have a mornid fear of rates, and mice, and nettles and wasps and jagged cans and rotting food and damp newspapers and the unemployed.

I’d be the first to admit it was a massively screwed-up pattern — when I was truly upset, I reverted to the habits I’d developed during the worst years of my life. When

We need to make sure we keep things in the proper perspective and put God first in our lives. We don’t want anything or anybody to come between us and God.

Loving our enemies isn’t something we can do on our own.

The more attention you pay to the behavior you want from students, the more it will happen.

Life is too short to spend an hour and a half on a mystery that will ultimately be solved by a cat.

A Personal Atonement At some point the multitudinous sins of countless ages were heaped upon the Savior, but his submissiveness was much more than a cold response to the demands of justice. This was not a nameless, passionless atonement performed by some detached, stoic being. Rather, it was an offering driven by infinite love. This was a personalized, not a mass atonement. Somehow, it may be that the sins of every soul were individually (as well as cumulatively) accounted for, suffered for, and redeemed for, all with a love unknown to man. Christ tasted "death for every man" (Hebrews 2:9; emphasis added), perhaps meaning for each individual person. One reading of Isaiah suggests that Christ may have envisioned each of us as the atoning sacrifice took its toll—"when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed" (Isaiah 53:10; emphasis added; see also Mosiah 15:10–11). Just as the Savior blessed the "little children, one by one" (3 Nephi 17:21); just as the Nephites felt his wounds "one by one" (3 Nephi 11:15); just as he listens to our prayers one by one; so, perhaps, he suffered for us, one by one. President Heber J. Grant spoke of this individual focus: "Not only did Jesus come as a universal gift, He came as an individual offering with a personal message to each one of us. For each one of us He died on Calvary and His blood will conditionally save us. Not as nations, communities or groups, but as individuals."55 Similar feelings were shared by C. S. Lewis: "He [Christ] has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created. When Christ died, He died for you individually just as much as if you had been the only man in the world."56 Elder Merrill J. Bateman spoke not only of the Atonement's infinite nature, but also of its intimate reach: "The Savior's atonement in the garden and on the cross is intimate as well as infinite. Infinite in that it spans the eternities. Intimate in that the Savior felt each person's pains, sufferings, and sicknesses."57 Since the Savior, as a God, has the capacity to simultaneously entertain multiple thoughts, perhaps it was not impossible for the mortal Jesus to contemplate each of our names and transgressions in concomitant fashion as the Atonement progressed, without ever sacrificing personal attention for any of us. His suffering need never lose its personal nature. While such suffering had both macro and micro dimensions, the Atonement was ultimately offered for each one of us.

God doesn’t give you the spirit of fear. If you are fearful, that fear comes from the enemy. Remind yourself the spirit that comes from God is of power, love, and a sound mind. God empowers you through His love.

For me, it felt like a ploy to somehow shut me down, to get me to hide, to be quiet, to erase myself, all at the exact moment in my life when I had gained the most intelligence, the most wisdom, and the most confidence.

Students frequently misbehave because they (1) want and need attention from adults and peers, (2) are trying to avoid a difficult or unpleasant task (too difficult, too easy, too boring), or (3) for some older students, revenge.

And despite the connections provided by the internet and social media, many people felt even more isolated and increasingly aware that the idea of interconnectivity was itself an illusion. This seems particularly painful when you’re sitting alone in a room and staring at a glowing screen that promises you access to the intimacies of countless other lives, a condition that mirrors Bateman’s loneliness and alienation: everything’s available to him, yet that insatiable emptiness remains.

I stopped at the front desk, about to complain to the doorman, when I was confronted with a NEW doorman, my age but balding and homely and FAT. Three glazed jelly doughnuts AND two steaming cups of extra-dark HOT chocolate opened to the comics and it struck me that I was infinitely better-looking, more successful and richer than this poor bastard would ever be and so with a passing rush of sympathy I smiled and nodded a curt though not impolite good morning without lodging a complaint.

If we looked at time and geography from a mountain's perspective, we would have a more profound sense of history, we would be able to see far and wide, and benefit from the experience of people all over the world. If we thought in the way mountains were formed, we would treat the natural world with more respect.

Storm was an outcast, a geek. She was the girl who dressed weird and always carried an old camera around and took five AP classes her senior year. She listened to bands nobody had ever heard of and spent lunch breaks leaned against a pillar in the middle of the quad with oversize headphones on her ears and equally oversize Russian novels in her lap.

He had started out the way nearly all writers do, and I'd seen it a hundred times--amateurs transformed into gibbering wrecks by actually being published; what once they'd done for fun ruined forever by the burden of expectation, the hope of sales and good reviews and riches, hobbyists turned authors made bitter by the knowledge that they'd missed their main chance.

Despite the fact that Uncle Rulon and his followers regard the governments of Arizona, Utah, and the United States as Satanic forces out to destroy the UEP, their polygamous community receives more than $6 million a year in public funds. More than $4 million of government largesse flows each year into the Colorado City public school district—which, according to the Phoenix New Times, “is operated primarily for the financial benefit of the FLDS Church and for the personal enrichment of FLDS school district leaders.” Reporter John Dougherty determined that school administrators have “plundered the district’s treasury by running up thousands of dollars in personal expenses on district credit cards, purchasing expensive vehicles for their personal use and engaging in extensive travel. The spending spree culminated in December [2000], when the district purchased a $220,000 Cessna 210 airplane to facilitate trips by district personnel to cities across Arizona.” Colorado City has received $1.9 million from the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development to pave its streets, improve the fire department, and upgrade the water system. Immediately south of the city limits, the federal government built a $2.8 million airport that serves almost no one beyond the fundamentalist community. Thirty-three percent of the town’s residents receive food stamps—compared to the state average of 4.7 percent. Currently the residents of Colorado City receive eight dollars in government services for every dollar they pay in taxes; by comparison, residents in the rest of Mohave County, Arizona, receive just over a dollar in services per tax dollar paid. “Uncle Rulon justifies all that assistance from the wicked government by explaining that really the money is coming from the Lord,” says DeLoy Bateman. “We’re taught that it’s the Lord’s way of manipulating the system to take care of his chosen people.” Fundamentalists call defrauding the government “bleeding the beast” and regard it as a virtuous act.

On the way to Wall Street this morning, due to gridlock I had to get out of the company car and was walking down Fifth Avenue to find a subway station when I passed what I thought was a Halloween parade, which was disorienting since I was fairly sure this was May. When I stopped on the corner of Sixteenth Street and made a closer inspection it turned out to be something called a "Gay Pride Parade," which made my stomach turn. Homosexuals proudly marched down Fifth Avenue, pink triangles emblazoned on pastel-colored windbreakers, some even holding hands, most singing "Somewhere" out of key and in unison.

On the way to Wall Street this morning, due to gridlock I had to get out of the company car and was walking down Fifth Avenue to find a subway station when I passed what I thought was a Halloween parade, which was disorienting since I was fairly sure this was May. When I stopped on the corner of Sixteenth Street and made a closer inspection it turned out to be something called a "Gay Pride Parade," which made my stomach turn. Homosexuals proudly marched down Fifth Avenue, pink triangles emblazoned on pastel-colored windbreakers, some even holding hands, most singing "Somewhere" out of key and in unison.

On the way to Wall Street this morning, due to gridlock I had to get out of the company car and was walking down Fifth Avenue to find a subway station when I passed what I thought was a Halloween parade, which was disorienting since I was fairly sure this was May. When I stopped on the corner of Sixteenth Street and made a closer inspection it turned out to be something called a "Gay Pride Parade," which made my stomach turn. Homosexuals proudly marched down Fifth Avenue, pink triangles emblazoned on pastel-colored windbreakers, some even holding hands, most singing "Somewhere" out of key and in unison.

Homie caught a body Got a naughty shawty Throw her in the trunk of my purple buggati Opps on my tail damn making this a party Firing shots man I think they might’ve got me Bleeding and speeding on the 401 This is hood economics 101 Got that gangsta archetype like Carl Yung Damn making me ask who am I running from? When I know I got balls and a fuckin loaded gun Roll out on the freeway while takin some heat One cop two cop three’s on his feet Yeah bullseye put one his knee Cryin oh please don’t hurt me you know I got family Put him to sleep with nice slick kick As I head to his home to go meet his kids His wife’s crying in the corner as I fire from the hip Yeah there’s heart in this clip I put my all in this shit Leaving their home while unfulfilled Got a taste for killing need more blood to spill God looking down asking me to chill Fire shots in the air tellin him no deal Already dug my grave and wrote my will Therapist tells me just stay home and masturbate man Tell him fuck off you know I’m Patrick Bateman Killers don’t discriminate you know I still kill women Brutally beat them into mush on the pavement Screaming for help with no-one here to save them My life has purpose and I know who I am A cold blooded killer with two glocks in his hands Better run mothafucka you know you stand no chance Cause it takes two to tango and damn I wanna dance

Anything with the word 'Tesco' or 'Weight Watchers' on the label should be viewed with some suspicion.

Her and the rest of the team will meet us here soon,

We’re lost,’ she said. ‘We’re here,’ Bateman replied. They were both right.

Psychotherapy for Borderline Personality Disorder: Mentalization Based Treatment (with A. Bateman, published 2004 by Oxford University Press),

Selection at the level of groups of creatures with common traits requires an understanding of the interactions that occur within their ecosystem, and situations such as these cannot be interpreted solely in terms of individual selection or genetic cost-benefit analysis

Even Patrick Bateman, Christian Bale’s self-loving, unhinged character in the film adaptation of American Psycho, is not representative of a true psychopath, as he is too violent to be realistic. These are caricatures—even the most violent criminals are rarely so obviously insane.

Humans. You shoot first, and then you shoot some more. Anything you fail to understand, you try to kill.” Chester

With Storm, the backyard wasn’t just the backyard. It was an enchanted forest and a medieval battlefield and a haunted fortress. We spent our days building faerie traps under the oak tree and collecting ingredients for witches’ brews. Being with Storm was everything, and I wanted to be just like her. Our days were filled with make-believe and magic,

Alison was snoring gently, and I was thinking about what would happen if I pinched her nose. And covered her mouth. The head is so full of holes, and the ear, nose and throat are supposedly connected; you would wonder why it isn’t possible to breathe through your ears.

them fell silent. Dennison noticed his friend also looked worried and asked what was wrong. As they talked further, each boy admitted being anxious about a private problem. After further discussion, Dennison

Mentalizing is a key skill because our sense of personal continuity is dependent on envisioning the thoughts and feelings we had in the past and how these relate to our current experiences, and because how we envision ourselves in the future is rarely in terms of physical attributes (after middle age, certainly) but rather in terms of projecting ourselves as a thinking and feeling person.

But the individual may use the capacity for mentalization in self-serving ways, either to control, seduce, or coerce others by anticipating their needs, or to avoid painful realities that do not converge with their distorted self concept. Bateman and Fonagy (2016) termed this process as hyper- or overactive mentalization.

If you can't be good, be careful.

I don't need light to see you. I know what you are: a beautiful, infuriating force of nature

Absence is to love what wind is to fire; it extinguishes the small, it inflames the great

I'd know you anywhere, Georgie girl.

The most infuriating man on seven continents and the very last creature Caro would have chosen as a fellow survivor—including the Artemis’s pig, which she’d affectionately named The Duke of Pork.

if you run well in the right shoes. The structure of your body changes according to the muscles you use.

I’ll go first. I’m fairly confident I won’t get distracted and fall to my death if I happen to glance up and see your stockings.” Maddie lifted her brows. “Fairly confident?” The wicked twinkle was back. “If I’m wrong, at least I’ll die happy.

A life spent half asleep isn’t much of a life at all.

In the US, not only did the rise of postwar Neoclassicism represent the consolidation of a particular ‘triumvirate’ in economics—mathematics, formalism, and physics envy (Bateman 1998), but it also replaced an important interwar pluralism[26] that allowed for more than one single approach in economics to co-exist with certain prestige and influence.[27] Amongst the reasons for such a shift, historians of economic thought expose a complex story that involves changes in the epistemology, methodology, and sociology of the economics discipline (Morgan & Rutherford 1998). For the US, it involved inter alia a change in how mathematics began to dominate economics scholarship, and particularly how mathematical formalism began to be closely associated with the concept of scientific neutrality, objectivity, and universal applicability (Furner 1975). This led to an expansion of method-oriented analyses, reinforced by the adoption of econometrics and statistical analysis in economics.

You, Justin Thornton, are a man who knows the cost of everything, and the value of nothing. Nothing important, at least.

It’s the antithesis of reason and logic. History’s littered with fools dying for love, going to war for love. Ruining themselves for love. That’s not romantic. It’s imbecilic. Look at Lady Caroline Lamb, smashing a glass and making a scene when Byron ended their affair.” He shook his head. “Ridiculous.” Tess bit back a laugh at his fervency. For someone who claimed to be dispassionate, he seemed to have very strong views on the subject. “And what about the Trojan War?” he continued. “That all started because Paris thought he was in love with Helen, another man’s wife. He wasn’t in love, he was in lust. And he dragged thousands of men to their death because of his unruly loins.

That’s rather romantic, for someone who claims not to believe in love.” His smile was bittersweet. “I didn’t say I didn’t believe in it. I said it was stupid and illogical.

He gave a low laugh at her confusion. “I still can’t help feeling that I owe you a climax.” She tried to school her unruly pulse. “You can write me a voucher – an IOU to be redeemed at a time and place of my choosing.

Do you find me hideous now, Lucia?” he teased, clearly unworried about his own scar. “Do I make you want to scream?” Lucy’s heart was hammering against her ribs. His words sounded as if they had another, far more seductive, meaning. How had things suddenly become so intimate? It felt as if they were the only two people in the ballroom. She clenched her fingers into a fist against the sudden bizarre desire to touch his injured face, and rallied gamely. “Scream? Only in aggravation.

the conflictual nature of the human psyche and the role of the unconscious – remain as valid and, we would say, relevant today as when Freud first formulated them.

They’d stopped in front of a pool much larger than the rest. Unlike the others, the surface of this one was not covered in lilies and other water plants, and Emma spied a set of shallow stone steps leading down into it. “Oh! A bathing pool!” she exclaimed in delight. “How wonderful!” “Yes. The heat of the water is extremely effective in relaxing the body. Feel free to make use of it yourself. It is a wonderful feeling, to float about in the steam.

Did you know that each type of orchid attracts its own particular pollinator? Some attract bees, while others need other types of insects. It means there’s an enormous variety in appearance between different kinds.” Kit barely managed to grunt, and she carried on. “I like to think that’s true of people too. That everyone has some aspect of their character or appearance that will attract a specific person to them. That there’s someone out there for everybody. An ideal match so to speak. We just have to find the right one.

like my life with Stacy Bateman in it even more.

Stephen Dewar, vice president of operations, cofounded WhalePower with Frank Fish, Bill Bateman and Phil Watts. I've known Stephen for several years and have watched with interest the challenges faced by the company since it was incorporated. I recently asked him if he had advice for aspiring biomimicry entrepreneurs. His number one message: Have a clear vision of why you're taking on your project and where you want to go. Then, like nature, be flexible and adaptable. his staff even made T-shirts that quote one of his favorite sayings: "For every vision, there is an equal and opposite revision." Second: Do your homework. Be deeply interested in the science, so you can clearly differentiate what's not just a good biomimetic idea but one for which there is a strong market demand.