Beamer Quotes

Come on, Beamer! I beheaded you for your own good.

Some girl named Eva has him convinced that you put out after one beer." "What?" My voice was as shrill as the ringing tardy bell "I personally don't believe it" he went on blithely, "and I have a Porsche. Not as much leg room as a Beamer, but so much hotter, I'm told.

There's a dead guy on our floor," Tom pointed out. "Yeah, that's Beamer, our neighbor." Vik stepped over Tom's bed, and kicked open a drawer beneath the mattress. He swept down and yanked out a bundle of fabric. "Here's your uniform." "There's a dead Beamer on our floor," Tom said again.

Slowly I began to understand that the plans God has for us don’t just include “good” things, but the whole array of human events … I remember my mom saying that many people look for miracles — things that in their human minds “fix” a difficult situation. Many miracles, however, are not a change to the normal course of human events; they’re found in God’s ability and desire to sustain and nurture people through even the worst situations. Somewhere along the way, I stopped demanding that God fix the problems in my life and started to be thankful for his presence as I endured them.

lets roll -todd beamer hero of united airlines flight 93

Whip," Walter echoed. "So there's an iPhone app for fighting zombies. Interesting.

float like a cadillac, sting like a beamer

BMW.” He smiles. “Little black beamer.

I had started on the marriage and motherhood beat by accident with a post on my personal, read only by friends, blog called ‘Fifty Shades of Men’. I had written it after buying Fifty Shades of Grey to spice up what Dave and I half-jokingly called our grown up time, and had written a meditation on how the sex wasn’t the sexiest part of the book. “Dear publishers, I will tell you why every woman with a ring on her finger and a car seat in her SUV is devouring this book like the candy she won’t let herself eat.” I had written. “It’s not the fantasy of an impossibly handsome guy who can give you an orgasm just by stroking your nipples. It is instead the fantasy of a guy who can give you everything. Hapless, clueless, barely able to remain upright without assistance, Ana Steele is that unlikeliest of creatures, a college student who doesn’t have an email address, a computer, or a clue. Turns out she doesn’t need any of those things. Here is the dominant Christian Grey and he’ll give her that computer plus an iPad, a beamer, a job, and an identity, sexual and otherwise. No more worrying about what to wear. Christian buys her clothes. No more stress about how to be in the bedroom. Christian makes those decisions. For women who do too much—which includes, dear publishers, pretty much all the women who have enough disposable income to buy your books—this is the ultimate fantasy: not a man who will make you come, but a man who will make agency unnecessary, a man who will choose your adventure for you.

Michael understood. "Not really. My gear is mostly blindfolds, feathers, and shit I got from the pet store. All the good stuff is expensive." There were online catalogs full of it. Leather and metal. Gags and hoods and cuffs and rope. That's what you really needed when the zombies came.

They were all looking at him with an unpronounceable hunger. Actually it was a lot like the faces you see in porn, but with less certainty of the course of action. It was as if they couldn't decide whether to fuck him first, and then eat him, or the other way around. Except that probably wouldn't work as well.

There’s a difference between being in love and thinking you’re in love. Real love is unconditional. If Eva truly loved me, she wouldn't try to make me love her. She would accept how I feel, without the catch.

I was always eh, kinda want to like consider myself kind of a pioneer of the palette, a restaurateur if you will. I've wined, dined, sipped and supped in some of the most demonstrably beamer epitomable bistros in the Los Angles metropolitan region. Yeah, I've had strange looking patty melts at Norms. I've had dangerous veal cutlets at the Copper Penny. Well what you get is a breaded salsbury steak in a shake-n-bake and topped with a provocative sauce of Velveeta and uh, half-n-half. Smothered with Campbell's tomato soup. See I have kinda of a uh...well I order my veal cutlet, Christ it left the plate and it walked down to the end of the counter. Waitress, ? she's wearing those rhinestone glasses with the little pearl thing clipped on the sweater. My veal cutlet come down, tried to beat the shit out of my cup of coffee. Coffee just wasn't strong enough to defend itself.

Let’s talk about ‘Coexist’ bumper stickers for a second. You’ve definitely seen them around. They’re those blue strips with white lettering that assemble a collection of religious icons and mystical symbols (e.g., an Islamic crescent, a Star of David, a Christian cross, a peace sign, a yin-yang) to spell out a simple message of inclusion and tolerance. Perhaps you instinctively roll your eyes at these advertisements of moral correctness. Perhaps you find the sentiment worthwhile, but you’re not a wear-your-politics-on-your-fender type of person. Or perhaps you actually have ‘Coexist’ bumper stickers affixed to both your Prius and your Beamer. Whatever floats your boat, man; far be it from us to cast stones. But we bring up these particular morality minibillboards to illustrate a bothersome dichotomy. If we were to draw a Venn diagram of (a) the people who flaunt their socially responsible “coexist” values for fellow motorists, and (b) the people who believe that, say, an evangelical Christian who owns a local flower shop ought to be sued and shamed for politely declining to provide floral arrangements for a same-sex wedding, the resulting circles would more or less overlap. The coexist message: You people (i.e., conservatives) need to get on board and start coexisting with groups that might make you uncomfortable. It says so right here on my highly enlightened bumper sticker. But don’t you dare ask me to tolerate the ‘intolerance’ of people with whom I disagree. Because that’s different.

The Bible says not that everything is good, but he will work it for good -- to those who love God [Romans 8:28]. Todd didn't claim to be perfect, and neither do I, but we do fall into the category of those who love God. That means as we choose to trust God and follow his desire for our lives, he promises to work everything for good to us both now and in the future. Although I never could have imagined the awful circumstances brought about in the life of my family by the events of September 11, I know that promise from God proved true for Todd on that day. God provided Todd with what he needed -- strong teammates in his fellow passengers, a steady voice of reason in Lisa Jefferson, an opportunity to knowingly make a difference in the course of events, and, of course, after the crash of United Flight 93, the reality of heaven.

Whenever that tiny bulb of revelation flashes over your head, it almost always follows a period of uncertainty. These periods are usually dark and distorted, with nary a sliver of light, yet they serve us because they contribute to understanding.

Be that star in the sky that plays with the lonely moon.

Beamer and Jenny knelt and held their father’s hands as they watched him take his last breath, which he did, in the arms of his trusted old friend Ike Besser, who had stood loyally by their father’s side, who had filled in the gaps where he could, who had offered their father something they never could following his ordeal, which was dignity, and in whose backyard shed were 220,000 mildewing, rotting, marked, unusable dollars, which had been there since 1980 and which would not be found until Ike’s death four years later.

Mothers. We get none of the breaks. But we also get most of the blessings. You

Built-in back-ends include: ascii (ASCII format) beamer (LaTeX Beamer format) html (HTML format) icalendar (iCalendar format) latex (LaTeX format) man (Man page format) md (Markdown format) odt (OpenDocument Text format) org (Org format) texinfo (Texinfo format)

coming

The script was the really exciting and surprising fourth installment of the action movie that had put Beamer on the map almost twenty years before when he had just finished film school. It was a pretty solid fourth installment of the action movie that had put Beamer on the map almost twenty years before when he had just finished film school. It was an entirely cynical, if properly formatted, fourth installment of the action movie that had put Beamer on the map almost twenty years before when he had just finished film school.

If you never saw it, you couldn't have it. No, if you never saw it, you could never know that you were supposed to want it. Instead, what they had was this: the three of them, Nathan, Beamer, and Jenny, who were bound by only one tether, which is what happened to them, which marked them as people who would only ever make sense to one another.

Either way, he didn’t ask. It wasn’t important. There are only two reasons to want that kind of pain: because you feel you deserve it, or because of the life-affirming quality of its disappearance. That second one is probably the most optimistic-seeming thing you could say about this predilection of Beamer’s.

That night, at dinner, Ruth had made noisy conversation with Beamer to forestall further memoir discussion and then continued on to ask Jenny what she was learning in school, which was as absurd a topic as any of them could think. “About Missouri becoming a state,” Jenny said. “With all the other states. The Missouri Compromise.” “Have you learned about the Long Island Compromise?” Beamer said. He had a way of smiling that was friendly but menacing if you knew that he was up to something. Jenny coughed her soup. “I don’t remember the Long Island Compromise,” Ruth said. “You probably didn’t learn it,” Beamer said. “It’s probably not something people learned when you were in school.

Well, this only boded well. Another person at this meeting. Only takes one person to say no. And a studio president? Coming to his office? Beamer was relieved. Beamer had spent the last few hours at his computer, thinking that now he could finally put Santiago to rest and go off and do something new, to make his Family Business, even though Family Business sure seemed like his Family Business. He had been watching YouTube videos of magicians and mentalists, in the back of his mind wondering if there would be a viable character there and in the front of his mind knowing that there was something here, something so gratifying in seeing a person make something out of nothing. Maybe he would mention this to Stan. That was when he got an intercom buzz from Sophie.

Noelle looked around to see if she’d forgotten to put anything in the suitcases but came up with nothing. “What should we do till we leave?” she asked. “We have to keep them up.” The question was for Beamer, but Liesl answered. “Can we read Are You Sure You’ve Thought This Through?” Beamer, relieved for direction in these dark woods, lay down on the bed and wriggled in between the kids to read them what was currently their favorite book, which had been lying on his bedside table. It was called Are You Sure You’ve Thought This Through? and was about a little boy named Baxter who, on his way to school, encounters danger after danger and makes a bad decision at every turn. A van pulls up alongside Baxter as he’s walking to school and tells him that the driver’s dog is lost and could he get into the van and help him, since the dog loves kids? Baxter says yes and boards the van, and on the next page it says, Are You Sure You’ve Thought This Through? with no other picture or text, just stark white against dark, a wavy, terrified typeface. Nathan and Alyssa had sent it over as a Chanukah present with a note in Alyssa’s swirly handwriting: The boys loved this at Liesl’s age!

Yes, Charlie had roughly 350 Emmys and Beamer spent his days licking hotel floors and getting anally penetrated by toothless women.

The funeral wasn’t until three p.m., so after he and his family took a nap, Beamer volunteered to go get his favorite pizza from Gina’s, where he ran into Lisa Beldstein, the butcher’s granddaughter, and is that you and I didn’t recognize you and the way she looked at him and what she said: “I thought, no way does any guy in the world carry himself like that except Beamer fuckin’ Fletcher, I’d know that guy anywhere.” And she’d just gotten a divorce and could he maybe help her with the soda getting it to the car because the kids were waiting for pizza and, one thing led to another, and then he was in Lisa Beldstein’s garage, fucking her in the backseat of her Lexus with the door open and their legs hanging out and do you see? Do you see why codeine is bad?

In the first pew, Beamer and Jenny couldn’t move. They had watched all this, as the understanding of what had really gone wrong in their lives revealed itself to them, which was that the tide pool you’re born into is only manageable if someone gives you swimming lessons. Or, put more simply, in order to be a normal person, you had to at least see normal people. But the alternative was true, as well. What bonded them was what they alone had seen. But what evaded them was what they hadn’t. That was what Jenny thought right then, and when she truly understood it, it found her breathless: that if you don’t know to do the things that the Semanskys were doing it’s because that was an inheritance, too. If you never saw it, you couldn’t have it—no, if you never saw it, you couldn’t even know that you were supposed to want it.

There is a gulf between your agent not getting back to you and your agent talking about your work behind your back with your former writing partner without even acknowledging receipt of the thing in the first place. Beamer realized he’d just now drowned in this gulf.

It was almost dawn. She stared out the window at the tree that hovered just beyond it, the one she spent all of childhood looking at. It occurred to her all at once: Beamer was one of them. Beamer was not an observer like she was, huddled with her in a corner, wondering how they got there. That was an act. Beamer was a Fletcher. She sat up. She stood up. She packed up. If there’s one thing any of them should know, it was that Jenny was disciplined enough to chew off her own leg to free herself.

Beamer?” Sophie whispered, trying to flag him down. He put a finger up to her, then made that hand into a what-are-you-gonna-do hand, trying to make like he couldn’t get out of this call. But Sophie whisper-mouthed anyway: “Your mother!” “Well, that’s just terrible,” he said to no one as his pretend phone call took a turn and he began to walk into the office’s en-suite bathroom. “Just awful. No, no. I’d never do that.” Sophie’s contemptuous eyes were on him as he finished his fake phone call. As he entered his office, he yelled into the phone, “I can’t make these decisions for you!” in case Sophie could still hear. “I fucking hate being asked, honestly. You know that? OK, goodbye. OK, fine, bye.” Beamer made it to the bathroom; he was safe. He took his clothes off and turned on the water. He screamed beyond the bathroom to Sophie that he would be out in a second. He waited for the hot water to beat down on him and make him feel human again, and clean, like he could start his whole life over again, but now he was irritable, having gotten into an argument with no one.

Then things went south with Beamer and it began to feel like she was adrift in the wind, like she could be sucked into space, a late-in-life casadastraphobia setting in.

The beamers aren’t worth shit.” He hesitated. “Sir.

Their hungry eyes look and search for a face that looks at them looking back. Eyes connect, and a soul is filled with a surge of warmth and excitement unmatched by food or other comforts If only each and every baby would find this source of caring eyes and a face that smiles and a voice that sings. Would not her face be full of smiles and her precious mind thrive and grow to do good things.

The people and wheat that they become, determined by care when they were young.

A slick BMW 5-Series pulls right by the traffic light. As the car comes to a halt, a bunch of kids, street kids, go to work. One of them, a young boy no more than eight years old kisses the BMW emblem on the hood. The driver, drenched in apathy, doesn’t even look up. Another kid comes by the side, begging the beamer’s owner for some cash. Everybody in Tehran knows that to pay these kids is bringing Slumdog Millionaire’s silver screen to the silver smog city.

The Barf Beamers A non-lethal weapon with the potential to do untold damage is the previously mentioned "LED Incapacitator" (LEDI). Designed like a flashlight, this light saber (also dubbed a barf beamer and a puke saber) is intended to totally incapacitate the people at whom it is aimed by emitting multiple light frequencies and colors that confuse the brain, resulting in symptoms ranging from discomfort and disorientation to temporary blindness and nausea. It has been suggested

In an address before Congress on September 20, 2011, President Bush stoked the embers of a common bond, telling Americans we would come together against the threat of violence from terrorists. “We will not tire, we will not falter, and we will not fail.” Now imagine the scenario played out differently. Pretend that instead of resolve, Bush expressed skepticism after 9/11. Imagine that, as smoke rose from the Twin Towers, he questioned whether al-Qaeda really orchestrated the attacks; he dismissed the intelligence community’s conclusions as “ridiculous”; he suggested the hijackers on Todd Beamer’s flight could have been from “a lot of different groups”; he fanned the flames of conspiracy theory by calling the incident a “hoax” and a “ruse”; he declared at a press conference, “Osama bin Laden says it’s not al-Qaeda. I don’t see why it would be,” in response to increasingly irrefutable evidence of the terror group’s responsibility; and he urged Americans that it would be a mistake to go after “al-Qaeda because the United States had the potential for a “great relationship” with them. If that’s what Bush had done, the political explosion would have torn the country to shreds. That’s effectively what happened when the United States was attacked in 2016.

Let's roll!

Was it something I said?” Roth mused. “I was just pointing out the obvious.” Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him. “What?” He grinned impishly. “Come on. You don’t look like the type of girl who watches football, hangs out with the cool crowd and ends up deflowered by the senior jock in the back of his daddy’s Beamer.” “Deflowered?” “Yeah, you know. Losing that pesky thing called virginity.” Fire swept over my skin. I pivoted around, heading toward the gym doors. Wasn’t like I didn’t know what deflowered meant. I just couldn’t believe he’d actually used that word in the twenty-first century. Or that I was even having a conversation about virginity with him. Roth caught my arm. “Hey. That’s a compliment. Trust me. He’s on the fast track to Hell anyway. Just like his daddy.” “Good to know,” I managed to respond coolly, “but would you please let go of my arm? I have to get to class.” “I’ve got a better idea.” Roth leaned in. Dark locks of hair fell into those golden eyes. “You and I are going to have some fun.” My teeth hurt from how hard I was grinding them. “Not in this lifetime, buddy.” He looked offended. “What do you think I’m suggesting? I wasn’t planning on getting you drunk and having my way with you in the back of a Beamer like Gareth is. Then again, I guess it could be worse. He could be planning it in the back of a Kia.” I blinked. “What?

There is that critical time when hungry eyes and growing minds will reflect and thrive and then this time will cease

If only each and every baby would find this source of caring eyes and a face that smiles and a voice that sings would not her face be full of smiles and her precious mind thrive and then this time will cease.

Knowing that 90% of the brain develops in the months of pregnancy and the first two years of life and that most chronic medical, behavioral, and addiction disorders occur in adults who had dysfunction in this critical period, makes it imperative that every effort be made to educate us all on the importance of good, responsive parenting.

The serve and return relationship of connecting and responding face to face is critical in a nurturing relationship and is the foundation for baby's future behavior, development, and health.

To read to your child is a marvelous gift. Bonds will form and spirits will lift. Reading success and imagination thrive. Hopes and big dreams are kept alive.

In addition, in some areas of the brain, pathways for positive development are replaced by pathways for "red alert" and hyperreactivity.

Like a plant, our children will continue to grow, and joy will be determined by the love that we show.

Parents need to understand the relationship of a caring environment and their baby's brain development.