Cawley Quotes

Chuck said, “Hey. How many surrealists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” Cawley looked over at him. “I’ll bite. How many?” “Fish,” Chuck said and let loose a bright bark of a laugh.

You were having nightmares, Marshal. Serious nightmares.” “I’m in a mental institution on an island in a hurricane,” Teddy said. “Touché,” Cawley said.

Chuck said, "Fuck if I know." Cawley stepped up beside them. "Quite similar to our clinical conclusion.

I open up—” Cawley again: “Using your keys, correct, Mr. Ganton?” Ganton nodded at Cawley, looked back at his knees. “I use my keys, yeah, ’cause the door’s locked.

Cawley probably wasn’t used to questions that continued after he’d shown displeasure with them, so they gave him a minute to catch his breath.

He saw something more in those eyes. The emotion wasn't nakedly apparent, but Mr. Cawley was a professional at reading the subtleties of people. The elderly and wildly successful credit card magnate believed that certain human frailties could actually help fuel success. Insecurity drove billionaire entrepreneurs. Emotional instability made for superb art. The need for attention built great political leaders. But anger, in his experience, led only to inertia.

I'd like to be sitting here five years from now, Marshal, and know you're still in the world." Teddy looked down at the hand on his knee. Looked up at Cawley. "I would too," he said softly.

water plunged onto the shuffling shoppers below. Their faces were drawn and bleak like a funeral cortege following the last remains of hope. From life they expected nothing – save a nice piece

Apologetics shouldn't be a prelude to communicating about Jesus. He is our strongest argument.

Tell me,” he went on, and it was a moment before Richard realised that the Professor wasn’t talking to him any more, but had turned to the right to address his other neighbour, “what’s all this about, this,” he flourished a vague hand over the candles and college silver, “. . . stuff?” His neighbour, an elderly wizened figure, turned very slowly and looked at him as if he was rather annoyed at being raised from the dead like this. “Coleridge,” he said in a thin rasp, “it’s the Coleridge Dinner, you old fool.” He turned very slowly back until he was facing the front again. His name was Cawley, he was a Professor of Archaeology and Anthropology, and it was frequently said of him, behind his back, that he regarded it not so much as a serious academic study, more as a chance to relive his childhood.

I want to believe we’re all in it together. But this is America. Here, we’re ready to light each other’s hair on fire. If the world were on fire, at least we’d all be in it together, except for the bears floating by on boats of ice. The deer were in it together, if it means forest fire, or smoke. Here, there should be a gold ring that makes it clear the subject is love. Here, a line about birds. But I am done with the small bodies that hold together a pair of wings. All the wings are in this together, a vast conspiracy of flapping, like gravity wasn’t the one thing holding us in place.

As a child, Leeda Cawley-Smith had had a natural attachment to animals, and they had had a natural attachment to her---cats and dogs were constantly following her home and even squirrels let her get close enough to feed them nuts.

Last summer, when the Cawley-Smiths had visited Tokyo, she’d been so loved by all the guys at the clubs, they kept asking if she was Charlize Theron. Leeda was like David Hasselhoff. She was loved in Japan.

[A]lmost every book or seminar I have ever encountered on the topic of apologetics... seem[s] to assume that a good argument and a humble demeanor are all that one needs in order to be an effective apologist. Where and how we engage people—the community setting, the geographical location, the music, whether there is food on the table— rarely gets much attention. This needs to change… We must not reduce our interactions with people, even very smart ones, purely to a series of arguments about the basics of Christianity. We will also need to discover ways in which we… can enable Jesus’ reality to take firm shape before others’ eyes.

It was an undemanding job both physically and mentally, which was fine. Stress was for the rich and hard-working.

She was an experimental child but compassionate with it.

Her voice had suddenly jumped a couple of social classes to underline her ownership status.

I had intended to visit the haunting ground of my school days. Subconsciously I wanted to be in a place where anxiety, responsibility and financial burden had yet to surface.

Why don't these translation books just include general phrases that could be applied in a variety of situations like, "Say nothing unless it's in English"?

As with all travel, replacing familiar surroundings with the unknown fires an electric charge that awakens a sense of adventure.

One thing I've learned, That Life Suck,so you change it!

It is related that on the night of the disaster, right up to the time of the Titanic’s sinking, while the band grouped outside the gymnasium doors played with such supreme courage in face of the water which rose foot by foot before their eyes, the instructor was on duty inside, with passengers on the bicycles and the rowing-machines, still assisting and encouraging to the last. Along with the bandsmen it is fitting that his name, which I do not think has yet been put on record—it is McCawley —should have a place in the honorable list of those who did their duty faithfully to the ship and the line they served.

his arms. ‘We’re not playing for

Taking the time each morning to view early morning sunlight for a period of ten to thirty minutes can have powerful effects on the regulation of dopamine in the body (Cawley et al., 2013). Not only can it cause an immediate release of dopamine, but when practiced consistently, this activity may even lead to a rise in the expression levels of certain dopamine receptors.

Mr. Cawley looked into Rob’s eyes and understood that the young man was saying this only because he was supposed to. He saw something more in those eyes: anger. The emotion wasn’t nakedly apparent, but Mr. Cawley was a professional at reading the subtleties of people. The elderly and wildly successful credit card magnate believed that certain human frailties could actually help fuel success. Insecurity drove billionaire entrepreneurs. Emotional instability made for superb art. The need for attention built great political leaders. But anger, in his experience, led only to inertia. He remembered when he’d offered to pay Rob’s tuition at this very event, in this very gymnasium—an offer he’d never made to any student before or since. As a financial master, Mr. Cawley looked at the world in terms of investments, of risk and reward. In 1998, the “investment” in Rob had struck him on paper as one of the lowest-risk and the highest-return; he saw no possible downside in giving this rare boy the slight push (Yale’s four-year tuition of $140,000 being slight for a bank CEO worth nine figures) he needed to reach the pinnacle for which he was already headed. Almost a decade later, as Rob broke off eye contact to gaze down at the floor as if there were a pit between them, Mr. Cawley understood that a life wasn’t lived on paper. He was not disappointed so much as confused, and he opted not to inquire further into what exactly had happened to Rob’s psyche between Yale graduation and now. He wanted to spare himself the sting of his own poor judgment. This conversation was the last he ever had with Rob.

viruses have their rightful place in our world. They are necessary for our existence and they help to preserve an optimal diversity and distribution of bacteria, which is beneficial for all life forms.