Chargers Quotes

You riding in the charger?" "Nah. I'm going to see if I can get Abby on the back of my bike again. It's the closest I can get to the inside of her thighs

One day I would have all the books in the world, shelves and shelves of them. I would live my life in a tower of books. I would read all day long and eat peaches. And if any young knights in armor dared to come calling on their white chargers and plead with me to let down my hair, I would pelt them with peach pits until they went home.

Shepley jogged around the front of the Charger, and then slid into the driver’s seat. “I’m still taking the official position that this is a bad idea.” “Noted.” “Then where?” “Steiner’s.” “The jewelry store?” “Yep.” “Why, Travis?” Shepley said, his voice more stern than before. “You’ll see.” He shook his head. “Are you trying to run her off?” “It’s going to happen, Shep. I just want to have it. For when the time is right.” “No time any time soon is right. I am so in love with America that it drives me crazy sometimes, but we’re not old enough for that shit, yet, Travis. And … what if she says no?” My teeth clenched at the thought. “I won’t ask her until I know she’s ready.” Shepley’s mouth pulled to the side. “Just when I think you can’t get any more insane, you do something else to remind me that you are far beyond bat shit crazy.” “Wait until you see the rock I’m getting.” Shepley craned his neck slowly in my direction. “You’ve already been over there shopping, haven’t you?” I smiled.

Mia looked over the new bruises on Tric's face, shook her head. 'My brave centurion. Riding in on his charger to save his poor damsel? Hold me, brave sir, I fear I shall swoon.

Bobby Tom told me he’s not afraid of the Chargers’ defense.” “Bobby Tom’ll tell you he’s not afraid of nuclear war, so I wouldn’t put too much stock in his opinion.

Class starts in five. You riding in the Charger?” “Nah. I’m going to see if I can get Abby on the back of my bike again. It’s the closest I can get to the inside of her thighs.

He changes when there's a threat to be overcome: it's like he pulls on a second skin, one he almost forgets the rest of the time, and becomes a hero again. A tired, old hero, one who wields a pen instead of a sword and rides waves of paperwork rather than a white charger, but still a hero.​

For a small smartphone charger, if it’s not warm to the touch, it’s using less than a penny a year. This is true of almost any powered device.1

I would read all day long and eat peaches. And if any young knights in armor dared to come calling on their white chargers and plead with me to let down my hair, I would pelt them with peach pits until they went home.

It's one of the many reasons I love being around Abigail. We can talk on the phone for five hours straight in the evenings, stopping only to grab our phone chargers or a glass of water, but we can also just sit together and watch the changing scenery through the window.

Oh.” I still sat on the floor and was too deflated to get up. “Well, that’s not very helpful.” “You know, before coming here, I forgot to think about you and your needs.” “Why would you pack a dead phone? Is the charger in there?” “You tell me.

I had left the truck where I had crashed it—smashed into a pole by the charger station that had appeared out of nowhere when I had tried to park under a covered awning. Driving was a lot simpler than parking, it seemed.

charger and dialed Troy’s number while pacing in front of the window. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, I’m—” “One week? One week was your limit? You said as long as it takes, so where are you?” She swallowed around the tightness in her throat. “You said I was your pain in the ass. Well, get your ass over here so I can be a pain in it.

The unveiled Algerian woman, who assumed an increasingly important place in revolutionary action, developed her personality, discovered the exalting realm of responsibility. The freedom of the Algerian people from then on became identified with woman's liberation, with her entry into history. This woman who, in the avenues of Algier or of Constantine, would carry the grenades or the submachine-gun chargers, this woman who tomorrow would be outraged, violated, tortured, could not put herself back into her former state of mind and relive her behaviour of the past; this woman who was writing the heroic pages of Algerian history was, in so doing, bursting the bounds of the narrow in which she had lived without responsibility, and was at the same time participating in the destruction of colonialism and in the birth of a new woman.

But the changes from the crab apple to the pippin, from the wolf and fox to the house dog, from the charger of Henry V to the brewer’s draught horse and the racehorse, are real; for here Man has played the god, subduing Nature to his intention, and ennobling or debasing life for a set purpose. And what can be done with a wolf can be done with a man.

I want to see the manager." "Is there anything I could do, sir?" Archie looked at him doubtfully. "Well, as a matter of fact, my dear old desk-clerk," he said, "I want to kick up a fearful row, and it hardly seems fair to lug you into it. Why you, I mean to say? The blighter whose head I want on a charger is the bally manager.

But she saw nothing in my eyes—she stared at me as though I had made a long journey on a white charger all the way to her prison house.

Don’t get it twisted, on most days I’d prefer cold, hard cash so I can do some damage in a bookstore or buy a new laptop that doesn’t die whenever it’s separated from its charger for more than a minute.

Think of your focus as a charger. It sends more power to where you channel the energy. You can charge up aggression, problems, and conflicts or wellness, compassion, and harmony. You can charge peace or war, love or hate, success or failure. You are the connecting factor between creative energy and reality.

Living with Kit was like living in a pixie nest. Every night, I’d find my phone charger relocated to my nightstand and my water bottle beside it, refilled at the precise temperature I liked. Dates circled themselves on the calendar. Fresh flowers appeared whenever the old ones wilted. And no matter how carelessly I unloaded the dishwasher, when I checked the back of the utensil drawer, the measuring spoons were always there.

Honey, have you seen my measuring tape?” “I think it’s in that drawer in the kitchen with the scissors, matches, bobby pins, Scotch tape, nail clippers, barbecue tongs, garlic press, extra buttons, old birthday cards, soy sauce packets thick rubber bands, stack of Christmas napkins, stained take-out menus, old cell-phone chargers, instruction booklet for the VCR, some assorted nickels, an incomplete deck of cards, extra chain links for a watch, a half-finished pack of cough drops, a Scrabble piece I found while vacuuming, dead batteries we aren’t fully sure are dead yet, a couple screws in a tiny plastic bag left over from the bookshelf, that lock with the forgotten combination, a square of carefully folded aluminum foil, and expired pack of gum, a key to our old house, a toaster warranty card, phone numbers for unknown people, used birthday candles, novelty bottle openers, a barbecue lighter, and that one tiny little spoon.” “Thanks, honey.” AWESOME!

The five-foot blade crushed Strabonus' casque and skull, and the king's charger reared screaming, hurling a limp and sprawling corpse from the saddle. A great cry went up from the host, which faltered and gave back.

Je suis trop intelligente, trop exigeante et trop riche pour que personne puisse se charger de moi entièrement. Personne ne me connaît ni ne m'aime tout entière. Je n'ai que moi. Il ne faut pas que j'essaie de tromper cette solitude en renonçant à ce que je peux seule porter. Il faut que je vive, sachant que personne ne m'aidera à vivre. Ma force, c'est que je m'estime aussi haut que n'importe quel autrui ; je peux bien envier à l'un ou l'autre telle qualité ; de personne la valeur ne me semble dépasser la mienne : je possède autant. Seule je vivrai, forte de ce que je sais être.

Shepley trotó alrededor de la parte delantera del Charger, y luego se deslizó en el asiento del conductor. —Todavía estoy tomando la posición oficial de que esto es una mala idea. —Anotado. —Entonces, ¿a dónde? —Steiner. —¿La joyería? —Sip. —¿Por qué, Travis? —dice Shepley, su voz más severa que antes. —Ya verás. Niega con su cabeza. —¿Estás tratando de ahuyentarla? —Va a suceder, Shep. Sólo quiero tenerlo. Para cuando llegue el momento. —No hay momento en el corto plazo ahora mismo. Estoy tan enamorado de América que me vuelve loco a veces, pero no somos lo suficiente mayores para esa mierda, todavía, Travis. Y… ¿qué si ella dice que no? Mis dientes se apretaron ante la idea. —No se lo pediré hasta que sepa que está lista. La boca se Shepley tira hacia un lado. —Justo cuando crees que no puedes conseguir nada más loco, haces algo más para recordarme que estas mucho más allá del loco palo de mierda. —Espera a ver la roca que voy a recibir. Shepley estiró su cuello lentamente en mi dirección. —Ya has estado allí de compras, ¿cierto? Sonreí.

Heat flow analysis provides a simple rule of thumb: If an unused charger isn’t warm to the touch, it’s using less than a penny of electricity a day. For a small smartphone charger, if it’s not warm to the touch, it’s using less than a penny a year. This is true of almost any powered device.1

California, Labor Day weekend...early, with ocean fog still in the streets, outlaw motorcyclists wearing chains, shades and greasy Levis roll out from damp garages, all-night diners and cast-off one-night pads in Fricso, Hollywood, Berdoo and East Oakland, heading for the Monterey peninsula, north of Big Sur...The Menace is loose again, the Hell's Angels, the hundred-carat headline, running fast and loud on the early morning freeway, low in the saddle, nobody smiles, jamming crazy through traffic and ninety miles an hour down the center stripe, missing by inches...like Genghis Khan on an iron horse, a monster steed with a fiery anus, flat out through the eye of a beer can and up your daughter's leg with no quarter asked and non given; show the squares some class, give em a whiff of those kicks they'll never know...Ah, these righteous dudes, they love to screw it on...Little Jesus, the Gimp, Chocolate George, Buzzard, Zorro, Hambone, Clean Cut, Tiny, Terry the Tramp, Frenchy, Mouldy Marvin, Mother Miles, Dirty Ed, Chuck the Duck, Fat Freddy, Filthy Phil, Charger Charley the Child Molester, Crazy Cross, Puff, Magoo, Animal and at least a hundred more...tense for the action, long hair in the wind, beards and bandanas flapping, earrings, armpits, chain whips, swastikas and stripped-down Harleys flashing chrome as traffic on 101 moves over, nervous, to let the formation pass like a burst of dirty thunder...

Perhaps there was a secret door down low in the wall, a door only large enough for a child. If I stepped through that door, I would be in another world, in fairyland perhaps. It would be warm and bright there, and I would have a magical wand to protect myself. I'd ride on the back of a dragonfly, swooping through the forest. I'd battle dragons and talk to birds and have all kinds of grand adventures. Later, I found that small door into fairyland could be conjured any time I needed it. The world beyond the door was different every time. Sometimes, I found a little stone house in the woods where I could live with just Nanette and my sister, Marie, and a tabby cat who purred by the fire. Sometimes, I lived in a castle in the air with a handsome prince who loved me. Other times, I was the prince myself, with a golden sword and a white charger.

With the toss of one last cardigan, I reveal … nothing. The suitcase is empty. I blink. My charger isn’t here. There is literally nowhere else it could be. I know it’s not in my purse. I check my purse for a third time anyway. It’s not even like I can borrow one. Deciding to be an Android in an iPhone family? Literally the worst decision ever right now.

It is easy to have sex in dark but difficult to plug in your charger.

Worry and guilt and regret may serve a function—as a turbo-charger of conscience—but in excess they are useless and incapacitating.

Bobby Tom told me he’s not afraid of the Chargers’ defense.” “Bobby Tom’ll tell you he’s not afraid of nuclear war, so I wouldn’t put too much stock in his opinion.

Sir Lancelot and his charger, and a spear

To have an extra ordinary result you must have an extra ordinary mindset. Your mindset is the only game charger to play the game of success and win.

Many people will panic to find a charger before their phone dies. But won't panic to find a plan before their dreams dies.

To shrink back from all that can be called Nature into negative spirituality is as if we ran away from horses instead of learning to ride. There is in our present pilgrim condition plenty of room (more room than most of us like) for abstinence and renunciation and mortifying our natural desires. But behind all asceticism the thought should be, ‘Who will trust us with the true wealth if we cannot be trusted even with the wealth that perishes?’ Who will trust me with a spiritual body if I cannot control even an earthly body? These small and perishable bodies we now have were given to us as ponies are given to schoolboys. We must learn to manage: not that we may some day be free of horses altogether but that some day we may ride bare-back, confident and rejoicing, those greater mounts, those winged, shining and world- shaking horses which perhaps even now expect us with impatience, pawing and snorting in the King’s stables. Not that the gallop would be of any value unless it were a gallop with the King; but how else— since He has retained His own charger—should we accompany Him?

I'm over it. All the little costs of having ADHD that add up in the long run. Lost customers. Overdue bills. Replacement phone chargers. Time spent looking for things. The way it makes me feel, like a child. As if everyone else is a real adult and I'm just pretending. The frustration that I can't do the simple, everyday things that most people can. Like laundry, and making phone calls, and remembering to take out something from the freezer for dinner. It's the missed deadlines for opportunities I could've had. The broken relationships. How people think I'm lazy and selfish. How they think I don't care. How I think I'm lazy and selfish, even though I know I care.

To all of you alive people walking around, taking your multivitamins and busy being Lutheran or getting colonoscopies, you need to invest in a good-quality, long-lasting wristwatch with day and date functions. Don't count on getting any cell phone reception in Hell, and don't think for a second you'll have the forethought to die with your charger cord in hand or even find yourself locked inside a rusted jail cell with a compatible electrical outlet.

And that's the last oath I shall ever be able to swear," she thought; "once I set foot on English soil. And I shall never be able to crack a man over the head, or tell him he lies in his teeth, or draw my sword and run him through the body, or sit among my peers, or wear a coronet, or walk in procession, or sentence a man to death, or lead an army, or prance down Whitehall on a charger, or wear seventy-two different medals on my breast. All I can do, once I set foot on English soil, is to pour out tea and ask my lords how they like it. D'you take sugar? D'you take cream?" And mincing out the words, she was horrified to perceive how low an opinion she was forming of the other sex, the manly, to which it had once been her pride to belong.

Imagine three days of God gone missing. Now, imagine my lifetime of it. Better to build your own sepulcher inside an idling Charger - gorged and crimson. I’d rather roll up on God’s pearly in a blood-red Benz or BMW. Any fancy casket will do.

As she fought the slick roads, her phone rang. She cursed herself for not plugging it into her car charger, at least then she could’ve answered through the hands free device. The next bend was coming up, she knew from her daily drives up and down. Her knuckles were white from the death grip she had on the steering wheel.

The Charger whined as I drove far beyond the speed limit back to my father's. I stumbled into the living room, and Thomas handed me a bottle of whiskey. They all had some in a glass. "You told them?"I asked Trenton, my voice broken. Trenton nodded. I collapsed to my knees, and my brothers surrounded me, placing their hands on my head shoulders for support.

Whipped cream isn't whipped cream at all unless it's been whipped with whips. Everybody knows that.

the habit of bed making is correlated with a sense of greater well-being and higher productivity. Other common broken windows include having a messy car; accumulating piles of laundry or trash; not being able to find important items, like a passport or a phone charger; hanging on to stacks of newspapers, magazines, and catalogs; wearing pajamas or sweats all day; or not shaving or showering

At a play-off game with the Chargers, goose bumps ran down my arms as I rushed through the smoke-filled tunnel onto the field. The energy and voices of 70,000 screaming fans can turn even a veteran player’s determined squint into the wide eyes of a child on Christmas morning. While the cheerleaders performed and urged on the crowd, running back Danny Woodhead turned to me. “Can you believe we get to do this?

Billy had not been her first lover, but he was the first she could not dance and dandle at her whim. Before him her boys had been clever marionettes with clear, pimple-free faces and parents with connections and country-club memberships. They drove their own VWs or Javelins or Dodge Chargers. They went to UMass or Boston College. They wore fraternity windbreakers in the fall and muscle shirts with bright stripes in the summer.

The fairy let her go and pulled aside a piece of bright gold-and-pink silk hanging on the wall. Behind it was the fairy's own private room. She had a soft bed of bright green moss with several iridescent feathers for a counterpane. A shelf mushroom served as an actual shelf displaying an assortment of dried flowers and pretty gewgaws the fairy had collected. There was a charming little dining table, somewhat bold in irony: It was the cheery but deadly red-and-white amanita. The wide top was set with an acorn cap bowl and jingle shell charger. In the corner, a beautifully curved, bright green leaf collected drops from somewhere in the celling much like the water barrel did, but this was obviously for discreet fairy bathing. An assortment of tiny buds, rough seeds, and spongy moss were arranged neatly on a piece of gray driftwood nearby to aid in cleansing.

had no courage to think that at first, heavenly kind as was your welcome to me. But soon I began to hope, and then I said, 'I will haf her if I die for it,' and so I will!" cried Mr. Bhaer, with a defiant nod, as if the walls of mist closing round them were barriers which he was to surmount or valiantly knock down. Jo thought that was splendid, and resolved to be worthy of her knight, though he did not come prancing on a charger in gorgeous array.

flutes of champagne bubbled, champagne with raw strawberries, champagne with whipped cream." This evocative description highlights the luxurious and decadent atmosphere of the party, showcasing whipped cream as part of a lavish culinary experience.

Most of the time, however, people being afraid of you is aggravating, embarrassing, and dispiriting. You take steps to allay the fear. You look down on the elevator. You wear your college T-shirt, and conspicuously display your work ID. You love the Dodge Charger, but if you buy the Mini Cooper you won’t get pulled over as much. You try not to care. But it comes to feel like you are apologizing for your existence. It eats you up inside because it is relentless. Every time you leave your home, you are the star of a bizarre security theater.

Twice a day the small white compact moved, for meals, she guessed, or bathroom breaks, and about four times a day the Hummer and the Charger swapped positions, but there was apparently no coordination between the agencies, because once a day in the early morning everyone was missing at the same time, for about twenty minutes. Zero agents, zero hour. The street went back to its normal self. Some kind of logic issue, she supposed, or simple math, like in class, with x number of cars, and y number of locations, and z number of hours to cover. Something had to give.

XII.—LOCHINVAR. Oh! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone; So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; He swam the Esk river, where ford there was none; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all; Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword - For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word - "Oh! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" "I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar." The bride kissed the goblet: the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar - "Now tread we a measure!" said young Lochinvar. So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume: And the bride's-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung. "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

don’t know about justice. I’ve never seen myself on a white charger, righting wrongs – but we have to catch people so that they can’t create all this again. And so that other people get the message – you will be caught, you will pay. We never know how many selfish acts we prevent when we show people the consequences, but we have to keep showing them the consequences. These are the consequences.’ Smith had raised a hand, palm open towards the new grave. ‘You think it’s just selfishness?’ ‘Just? Makes it sound trivial. All crime is caused by selfishness, I say. It’s the ‘Me first, my needs first’ attitude.

But what offering can I consecrate to you, oh Master? - You, who have bestowed hearing upon all creatures? - My memory of one spring day, In the evening, in Russia, - a stallion ... Running alone from the hamlet across to us The pale horse, a tethering-peg dangling from his fetlock, To spend a night solitary in the meadow; How he shook his tangled mane, Tossed in time to his haughty step, Despite his clumsily impeded gallop. How the fountains leapt up of his charger’s blood! He intuited the vastnesses and, oh from that He sang! He heard! - yes, your cycle of legends Was embraced within him. His image: that I offer.

Her Grace dispatched me to figure out what has you lot glowering like a matched set of gargoyles.” Percival, the Duke of Moreland, surveyed his three sons, all of whom were clutching their drinks with the grim resignation of grown men being sociable under duress. This was odd, since all of his children were more than comfortable in social settings. “We’re that obvious?” Valentine asked. “To Her Grace, all is transparent when it comes to her family. I suppose we’re waiting for Sophie’s swain to come to his senses and gallop up the drive on his white charger?” St. Just stood by the window, peering through a crack in the drapes. “It’s a bay, actually, and the idiot man is finally here.

Though in many natural objects, whiteness refiningly enhances beauty, as if imparting some special virtue of its own, as in marbles, japonicas, and pearls; and though various nations have in some way recognised a certain royal preeminence in this hue; even the barbaric, grand old kings of Pegu placing the title “Lord of the White Elephants” above all their other magniloquent ascriptions of dominion; and the modern kings of Siam unfurling the same snow-white quadruped in the royal standard; and the Hanoverian flag bearing the one figure of a snow-white charger; and the great Austrian Empire, Caesarian, heir to overlording Rome, having for the imperial color the same imperial hue; and though this pre-eminence in it applies to the human race itself, giving the white man ideal mastership over every dusky tribe; and though, besides, all this, whiteness has been even made significant of gladness, for among the Romans a white stone marked a joyful day; and though in other mortal sympathies and symbolizings, this same hue is made the emblem of many touching, noble things— the innocence of brides, the benignity of age; though among the Red Men of America the giving of the white belt of wampum was the deepest pledge of honor; though in many climes, whiteness typifies the majesty of Justice in the ermine of the Judge, and contributes to the daily state of kings and queens drawn by milk-white steeds; though even in the higher mysteries of the most august religions it has been made the symbol of the divine spotlessness and power; by the Persian fire worshippers, the white forked flame being held the holiest on the altar; and in the Greek mythologies, Great Jove himself being made incarnate in a snow-white bull; and though to the noble Iroquois, the midwinter sacrifice of the sacred White Dog was by far the holiest festival of their theology, that spotless, faithful creature being held the purest envoy they could send to the Great Spirit with the annual tidings of their own fidelity; and though directly from the Latin word for white, all Christian priests derive the name of one part of their sacred vesture, the alb or tunic, worn beneath the cassock; and though among the holy pomps of the Romish faith, white is specially employed in the celebration of the Passion of our Lord; though in the Vision of St. John, white robes are given to the redeemed, and the four-and-twenty elders stand clothed in white before the great-white throne, and the Holy One that sitteth there white like wool; yet for all these accumulated associations, with whatever is sweet, and honorable, and sublime, there yet lurks an elusive something in the innermost idea of this hue, which strikes more of panic to the soul than that redness which affrights in blood.

Since the time I had ridden Vodalus’s charger out of Saltus, I had supposed in my innocence that all mounts might be divided into two sorts: the highbred and swift, and the cold-blooded and slow. The better, I thought, ran with the graceful ease, almost, of a coursing cat; the worse moved so tardily that it hardly mattered how they did it. It used to be a maxim of one of Thecla’s tutors that all two-valued systems are false, and I discovered on that ride a new respect for him. My benefactor’s mount belonged to that third class (which I have since discovered is fairly extensive) comprising those animals that outrace the birds but seem to run with legs of iron upon a road of stone. Men have numberless advantages over women and for that

Get a move on, Perico, and go ask him for the battery charger," and the apprentice hurried out, but everything was like a dream and what was the point of any of it: battery chargers, wrenches, mechanics, and he felt sorry for the terrified little boy because, he thought, all of us are dreaming and why punish kids and why fix cars and have crushes on nice boys and then get married and have children who also dream that they're alive, who have to suffer, go off to war or fight or give up hope all on account of mere dreams. He was simply drifting along now, like a boat without a crew swept along by shifting currents, and moving mechanically like those invalids who have lost almost all will and consciousness and yet allow themselves to be moved by the nurses and obey the instructions they are given with the obscure remains of that will and that consciousness without knowing why. The 493, he thought, I go as far as Chacarita and then I take the subway to Florida and then I walk from there to the hotel. So he got on the 493 and mechanically asked for a ticket, and for half an hour continued to see ghosts dreaming of things that kept them very busy; at the Florida stop he went out the exit on the Calle San Martin, walked along the Corrientes to Reconquista and from there headed for the Warszawa rooming house, Accommodations for Gentlemen, went up dirty, dilapidated stairs to the fourth floor, and threw himself on the wretched bed as though he had been wandering through labyrinths for centuries.

Chapter One: The Dawn and the Dread Heartbeat, heartbeat comes from Valhallan way, To meet down in judgment, to ply its trade. Two →swords← to join in worthy cross, Actions to be rendered, one to be lost. She did come now from ’yond northern slope, A day of reckoning did she again once hope. A devout meeting was her qwesterly bane, To stay her hand was to go insane. St. Kari of the Blade to meet her past, A wicked enemy, peerless of match. Rode Kari she her charger on down, Past the Dead Land where Gaul sat crowned. A killing job, yea, she desired to lastly kill, To set things right so her heart might lie still. Upon the mist and roaring plain, She entered in, a soul uncontained. A fierce wind in deed, and forever freed, Enemies she annihilhates (’tis hur’ creed). Her own advanced guard of a sort, Multitudes to follow in her report. Know this Valkyrie from on cold, An ancient maiden soft and bold. A warrior spirit from Ages past, A fragmented mind like broken glass. Solid in stature this eternal framed being, Yet crippled within from internaled bleedings. A sword saint so refined in the poetic art, A noble character yet with a banshee’s heart. Rhythmed horse now to the beats, Kari emboldened amid the sleet. Beyond the mountain she does come, Unto southern fields wherein rules hot sun. Far from that murderous Deadlands ground, The land up swells; the dead still abound. Traverses she those bygones of leprous civilizations Those cities crumbled by the exhalted of oblivions. Stark traces etched now bare in the land, That are no more again, save dust in the hand. A cool stream now in desert sans (Does more good when one is damned). Stopped she her mount to admire the flow, A lovely stream with skeletons packed below. Blue air whisps; dragon flied motion. Flintsteel striking!!! Sparked of commotion. Cold water chortles rushtish with tint, Told of past carnage, it whetted her glint. Fallen warriors, they are no more, Swirls and eddies mark their discord. Gurgled shouts slung and gathered, Faces glazed while steel lathered. Refreshing though it was to her mouth, She smelled an air; she flared about. Came up that ridge of loud, sanded hill, Below a man and his half-score of kills. Kari’s eyes waxed in smug contempt, Possibilities ran deep with no repent . . . On Kari, Valkyrie, Cold Steel Eternity Vol. II

From the bonny bells of heather, They brewed a drink long syne, Was sweeter far than honey, Was stronger far than wine. They brewed it and they drank it, And lay in blessed swound, For days and days together, In their dwellings underground. There rose a King in Scotland, A fell man to his foes, He smote the Picts in battle, He hunted them like roes. Over miles of the red mountain He hunted as they fled, And strewed the dwarfish bodies Of the dying and the dead. Summer came in the country, Red was the heather bell, But the manner of the brewing, Was none alive to tell. In graves that were like children’s On many a mountain’s head, The Brewsters of the Heather Lay numbered with the dead. The king in the red moorland Rode on a summer’s day; And the bees hummed and the curlews Cried beside the way. The King rode and was angry, Black was his brow and pale, To rule in a land of heather, And lack the Heather Ale. It fortuned that his vassals, Riding free upon the heath, Came on a stone that was fallen And vermin hid beneath. Roughly plucked from their hiding, Never a word they spoke: A son and his aged father – Last of the dwarfish folk. The king sat high on his charger, He looked down on the little men; And the dwarfish and swarthy couple Looked at the king again. Down by the shore he had them: And there on the giddy brink – “I will give thee life ye vermin, For the secret of the drink.” There stood the son and father And they looked high and low; The heather was red around them, The sea rumbled below. And up spoke the father, Shrill was his voice to hear: “I have a word in private, A word for the royal ear. “Life is dear to the aged, And honour a little thing; I would gladly sell the secret”, Quoth the Pict to the King. His voice was small as a sparrow’s, And shrill and wonderful clear: “I would gladly sell my secret, Only my son I fear. “For life is a little matter, And death is nought to the young; And I dare not sell my honour, Under the eye of my son. Take him, O king, and bind him, And cast him far in the deep; And it’s I will tell the secret That I have sworn to keep.” They took the son and bound him, Neck and heels in a thong, And a lad took him and swung him, And flung him far and strong And the sea swallowed his body, Like that of a child of ten; And there on the cliff stood the father, Last of the dwarfish men. “True was the word I told you: Only my son I feared; For I doubt the sapling courage, That goes without the beard. But now in vain is the torture, Fire shall not avail: Here dies in my bosom The secret of the Heather Ale.

You called?" Sounding casual is difficult when it feels like you're heart's river-dancing in your rib cage. "Yes. I just wondered where you were. You didn't answer your cell. Is everything okay?" She sighs, but I can't tell if it's in relief or parental aggravation. "Everything's fine. My battery is dead, but Galen bought me a charger to keep over here, so it's charging." "How sweet of him," she says, knowing good and well she instructed him to do so. "Well, just wanted to check in. Should I wait up for you? I don't appreciate you missing curfew the last few nights. Technically, staying over there until four in the morning is a coed sleepover, which I don't allow, or had you forgotten? Your trip to Florida with Galen's family was a special circumstance." "I stayed the night at Chloe's all the time with JJ there." JJ is Chloe's eight-year-old brother. Not a great comeback, but it will have to do.

Give me that charger, you fucking BITCH, you haven't got any guys to talk to on the phone anyway! Everyone knows you WISH you'd been raped but there's no one who WANTS to do it!" Tails doesn't remember exactly what happened after that. He remembers Elisabeth desperately tugging at his arms from behind, trying to make him let go. His son is dangling, horrified, in the grip of his father's huge hands, and Tails hits him against the wall time and time again, shouting at him. His daughter opens her door, numb with shock. Elisabeth finally manages to wrestle her almost 220-pound husband to the floor, and he lies there hugging his son. They're both crying, one out of fear and the other out of shame. "You can't become that sort of man. I won't let you ... I love you, I love you so much . . . you need to be better than me ," Tails repeats, over and over again, in his son's ear, without letting go of him.

Shanti posa sa main sur la mienne et me dit avec compassion: «Alors, arrête de charger ton bocal de sable, Maëlle. Vis tes rêves, prends soin de toi, de ton cœur, de ton corps, de tes envies, des gens que tu aimes. Remplis-toi de ce que tu es et cesse d’avoir peur de souffrir, c’est cette peur qui t’empêche d’être heureuse et t’enferme dans tes blessures.» Je fixai Shanti, en pleurs. Il poursuivit: «Prends le risque de vivre et d’être ce qui t’habite. Emplis ton bocal, caillou par caillou, gravier par gravier, grain de sable par grain de sable en considérant chacune de tes priorités. À chaque fois que tu poses un élément, il doit prévaloir sur tous les suivants. Choisis par primauté la première pierre, puis ajoute la deuxième en te disant que tu ne sacrifieras jamais la première pour la deuxième. Et continue avec le même raisonnement, jusqu’au dernier grain. Mais fais attention à ce que tu veux, car tu risques de l’obtenir!»

From Bralloc’s mounted position he could see over the heads of most of his men, but the thickening darkness of evening coupled with the storm made it impossible to see more than a few yards. He jerked at the reins and swung his horse around, pushing into the crowd. The large grey charger was nearly as mean-spirited as her owner; she snorted and bucked her head, then nipped, stomped and shoved her way through, giving every indication that she was enjoying herself. His men drew to either side, and the crawling excitement in Bralloc’s belly became an angry swarm of insects. The scout – the ballsy woman whose name he could never remember - stood several paces away. Bralloc paid her no heed, however, and the mixture of nervousness, relief and fear on her face didn’t even register in his mind: his eyes were locked on the captive at her side. His lips twitched into a smile and he licked them, like a ghoul eyeing a fresh corpse. He forced himself to move slowly, deliberately – sucking each individual drop of marrow from the bones of his anticipation..." -From 'Feral

Dans tout mon langage, dans tout mon langage avec toi, il y a eu dès le début ce noyau de silence. Je ne dis pas cela pour me charger ni pour décharger qui que ce soit. L’effort que me coûte d’écrire ces mots me garantit une sorte de paix, au-delà de tout jugement. C’est ainsi, ce noyau de silence était en moi, il faisait partie de moi. Je l’ai, lui aussi, apporté avec tout le reste dans notre histoire et comme je ne pouvais rien contre lui, il y a pris sa place, s’est installé et s’est imposé. Je faisais naturellement semblant de ne pas le voir mais il était là. Je le recouvrais de discours de protection, diversion, il était toujours là, parfois invisible, parfois tacitement oublié, mais toujours là. Il ne trompait personne parmi les intéressés. Il ne te trompait pas, en tout cas malgré tous les efforts pour conclure avec lui et moi à demi-mots, un pacte d’oubli. Au fond de tout tu l’as accepté avec moi, mais tu ne l’as jamais accepté ; tu ne pouvais pas. Tu as fait tout ton possible en ton pouvoir pour le réduire, puis pour l’oublier. Un moment est venu où tu n’as plus pu résister au silence que par le silence, par un second silence sans aucun rapport avec le premier mais un silence. Un silenzio l’unico modo di non tacere.

I am married to a man who calls a phone charger ‘the pluggy-in thing’, and the remote control ‘the buttony thing for the telly’.

Burgoyne’s most capable officer, General Simon Fraser, began to rally the British left wing. Morgan called two or three of his best marksmen together and, pointing to him, said, “Do you see that gallant officer, mounted on a charger? That is General Fraser—I respect and honor him; but it is necessary that he should die.” A minute later, a bullet cut the crupper of his horse; another grazed its mane. “You are singled out, general,” said his aide-de-camp, “and had better shift your ground.” “My duty forbids it,” he replied, and a moment later he fell.

Through the mists of rampage and the stench of fear, a tall, stately man appeared on a charger and brought hell with him.

Finally, he says, “What is the shortest distance between two points?” I look at him in the rearview mirror. “Swordfish.” “Come again?” “It’s a joke from an old movie. What’s the secret password? Swordfish.” “I see. Well, it is not swordfish this time. Would you like to know the answer?” “Sure.” I hit the accelerator. Feel the RPMs rumble from my feet and up into my chest as the Charger tears up the cracked desert road, leaving a gray cloud behind us. The Magistrate takes my Colt and puts one bullet in the chamber. Spins it and slams it shut. Puts the gun to his head and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. He says, “The answer is death. In nothingness, distance has no meaning.” “But death isn’t nothingness. I’m dead and I’m here now.” He puts the Colt to my head. “Perhaps you are not dead enough.” “I still think ‘swordfish’ is a better answer.” “But you are not the one asking the question.” He pulls the trigger.

Il ne s'agit pas ici de faire le procès, encore moins l'éloge de la colonisation européenne de l'Afrique, mais simplement de marquer que cette colonisation comporte, comme presque tous les phénomènes qui résultent des chocs de civilisation, un actif et un passif culturels. Ce n'est pas prendre la défense de la colonisation, de ses laideurs, voire de ses atrocités ou de ses indéniables bouffonneries (achat de vastes territoires contre quelques rouleaux d'étoffe ou un peu d'alcool), que d'admettre que le choc en a été souvent décisif et même finalement bénéfique pour les structures sociales, économiques et culturelles des peuples noirs colonisés. En fait, ç'a été, au lendemain de l'acte final du Congrès de Berlin (1885), la dernière très grande aventure de l'expansion européenne. Et si cette mise sous tutelle tardive a été de brève durée (moins d'un siècle), la rencontre s'est faite à vive allure, alors que l'Europe et l'économie mondiale se trouvaient en plein essor. C'est une société industrielle adulte, exigeante, disposant de moyens modernes d'action et de communication, qui a heurté et investi le monde noir. Et celui-ci est réceptif, plus mobile que les ethnographes ne le supposaient hier encore, capable de saisir des objets et des formes que l'Occident lui propose et, surtout, de les réinterpréter, de les charger de sens nouveau, de les lier, chaque fois que la chose est possible, aux impératifs de sa culture traditionnelle. [...] En parlant d'un certain actif de la colonisation, nous ne pensons pas à ces biens purement matériels, routes, voies ferrées, ports, barrages, à ces mises en marche d'exploitations du sol et du sous-sol que les colonisateurs ont installés dans des buts hautement intéressés. Ce legs, aussi important qu'il paraisse parfois, serait de peu d'utilité et éminemment périssable si les héritiers n'avaient aussi acquis, au cours de la pénible épreuve de la colonisation, de quoi leur en permettre aujourd'hui l’utilisation rationnelle. L'enseignement, un certain niveau de la technique, de l'hygiène, de la médecine, de l'administration publique, sont les meilleurs biens légués par les colonisateurs, la contrepartie positive aux destructions opérées par le contact européen dans les vielles habitudes tribales, familiales, sociales, sur lesquelles reposaient toute l'organisation et toute la culture.

Of all the endlessly mythologised figures of Ukrainian history, Khmelnytsky is both the most influential and the most mysterious. For Ukrainians he is the leader of the first Ukrainian war of independence; for Poles he is the misguided peasant rebel who split the Commonwealth, pushing Poland into her long pre-Partition decline. For Jews he is the prototype pogromshchik, author of the infamous Khmelnytsky massacres; for Russians he is the founder of the Great Slav Brotherhood, the Moses who led Ukraine out of Polish bondage into the welcoming arms of Muscovy. In Kiev, the tsars erected a statue of him astride a rearing charger, pointing his mace towards the north-east and Moscow. According to its original design, the hetman was to have been represented trampling the cowering figures of a Polish nobleman, a Catholic priest and a Jew. Wiser councils prevailed, and today a solitary Khmelnytsky slices the uncomplaining air on a traffic island outside Santa Sofia Cathedral.

 Meanwhile, I was holding on to my composure by sheer force of will. But when we ended the call I was likely going to dismember Greg’s favorite boxer briefs and hide his cell phone charger. 

Batteries, Bug repellent, Belts, Bags , Barbecue equipment, Boots, Bath towels. Bikes, Bike rack. C - Cash and credit cards, Cell phones & chargers, Camera and film/memory cards, Coffee pot, Can opener, Cups, Cutlery, Computer, Clock, Cleaning utensils, Clothes and coats, Camping Guides, Condiments (salt, sugar, pepper). D - Dishes, Drainers, Disinfectant. F - First Aid kit, Fire Extinguishers G - Glasses, (drinking, reading, sun), Games. H -Herbs, Hair brushes, Headphones. K -Keys (house, RV, Lockers), Kindle & cable, Kitchen Gadgets. M - Medication. Money belts, Measuring implements, Maps, P - PERSONAL DOCUMENTS: Passports, Health Certificates, Insurance, Driving License, RV documents, Power adapters, Pens, Pets:

Horse is, in front of the warriors, the joy of noble-men, a charger proud on its hoofs; when concerning it, heroes – wealthy men – on war-horses exchange speech, and it is to the restless always a comfort.

nous répugnons à charger la métaphysique d’une nouvelle terminologie, nous rappelant que les terminologies sont des sujets de discussions, d’erreur et de discrédit ; ceux qui les créent, pour les besoins apparents de leurs démonstrations, en hérissent incompréhensiblement leurs textes, et s’y attachent avec tant d’amour que souvent ces terminologies, arides et inutiles, finissent par constituer l’unique nouveauté du système proposé

D’accord, dit Harry. D’accord… L’oncle Vernon se rassit en soufflant comme un rhinocéros prêt à charger et surveilla attentivement Harry du coin de ses petits yeux perçants. Depuis qu’il était revenu à la maison pour les vacances d’été, l’oncle Vernon l’avait traité comme une bombe sur le point d’exploser. Harry, en effet, n’était pas un garçon normal. Pour tout dire, il était même difficile d’être aussi peu normal que lui.

« Capitant nous a réunis pour nous annoncer que Jean Guéhenno créait un service d’éducation des adultes — un “bureau de l’éducation populaire” — et a demandé qui voulait s’en charger. J’ai levé la main à la surprise générale. » Dégoûtée de l’éducation nationale, Mlle Faure ne veut plus enseigner aux enfants. « La “laïcité” [à prendre ici au sens de « neutralité politique »] imposée aux enseignants ne me convenait plus. Elle empêchait toute explication franche, directe, c’est-à-dire politique, avec la jeunesse. La laïcité devenait une religion qui isolait comme les autres. Dans un cadre d’éducation des adultes, il me semblait qu’on pourrait dire tout ce qu’on voudrait. D’où mon choix pour l’éducation populaire : cadre neuf, cadre libre, où pourrait se développer l’esprit critique. »

Well, I just wanted to say hi.” Darren blows out his candle and tosses it behind us into the box with the rest of them. “I should head back and finish getting everything together for tomorrow. Are you all ready to go?” “Nearly,” I lie. He grins. “Our first train leaves here around 7:30 in the morning, so I’ll meet you at the mouth of the tunnel,” he says, pointing toward the bottom of the hill, “around ten after. Sound good?” I nod. “Guess I’ll see you in the morning then.” We shift forward slightly, unsure if we’re supposed to hug or go our separate ways. Darren opens his arms and pulls me against him, patting my back several times. I do the same, his sweat-dampened shirt warm to the touch. “A domani,” he says as his cheek brushes across my ear. I watch him start down the street, and wave when he’s about twenty steps away. “Don’t forget your camera!” he calls back to me. I wave again and smile. “And the battery charger!” he calls, feet moving him backward down the hill. Laughter escapes my mouth as I continue to wave good-bye. “And memory cards!” I lose sight of him in the darkness, but the smile he brought to my face stays put.

After the Charger’s high-performance Hemi, the Jeep felt absolutely asthmatic.  The six-cylinder engine made a

iPhone charger, GGMM Lightning to USB Cable 3.3ft for iPhone 6s 6 Plus 5s 5c 5, iPad Pro, Air 2, iPad mini 4 3 2, iPod touch 5th gen / 6th gen / nano 7th gen [Apple MFi Certified] (Silver)

Where were you anyways Shard when this was going on? Not saying that this is your fault but when I was calling you before I left to go to the store, your phone was going to voicemail,” I told him. “That’s because my phone had died. Eventually when I did get in the car to put it on the charger, your moms was already blowing my phone up, telling me to come get to the hospital,” he said.

Welcome to the bedroom of your average seventeen-year-old. Gaze in awe at the mountain of make-up piled on the dresser. Gasp in amazement at the huge pile of clothes that lies just outside the largely empty wardrobe. Look doubtfully at the precarious position the iPad is in, teetering on the edge of the bedside cabinet. Worry somewhat about the safety of the tangle of electrical charger cords erupting from the plug socket to one side of it.

It was the constancy of it, the unending-ness. She felt crowded and edgy and half-crazy; every time she turned around there was someone standing too close to her, speaking too loudly, needing something. Mom, have you seen my sweatshirt? Mom, can we have chicken with mashed potatoes for dinner? Mama, do you know where my phone charger went? Sorry, Mrs. D., but we’re out of toilet paper on the fourth floor. Every request, no matter how polite, clawed at her with sharp nails. Every breath of air in the house felt stale and flat, like it had already been in and out of someone else’s lungs; every surface she touched felt sticky. And she knew, from her friends, that she wasn’t the only woman feeling that way. They were all trying to do too much, for too many people, in too little space, trying to manage their jobs and their kids’ schooling, the meals and the housework and their working-from-home partners or spouses while they clung to sanity with their fingernails.

On my quest to find businesses that are innovating for the greater good, I came across an article in the Huffington Post titled “Without Light, Can There Be Life?” It was written by the cofounders of WakaWaka. Maurits Groen and Camille van Gestel. They wrote about the 1.2 billion people living without access to electricity as a result of extreme poverty or devastating natural disasters. Their response to this seemingly intractable social issue was to innovate a highly efficient, low-cost, hand-held solar-powered LED light and charger that they named WakaWaka. I was intrigued and discovered from their website that this award-winning device was bringing light and power to over a million people in 43 countries around the world. So I went to the Netherlands to interview Maurits Groen in his Off-Grid Solutions office in Haarlem. As with all DreamMakers I have met on my journey, Maurits has a powerful purpose in life. He has a compelling global vision of a just world that is rooted in his belief that all people and the planet matter.

Dining tables were dressed in hunter-green velvet linens. Royal Staffordshire Tonquin Brown dinner plates sat on top of hammered copper chargers. Cut-crystal drinkware and hammered copper tumblers glinted in the candlelight and strands of twinkle lights. Vintage brass and low copper vessels overflowed with garden roses, tulips, and amaryllis in various shades of cream, peach, and burnt orange along with lush greenery. Berries and russet feathers peeked out every so often, and antlers interspersed at odd angles. Reminiscent of an enchanted woodland from a C.S. Lewis novel, this was by far my favorite design Cedric had ever created.

That dialogue pictures Julius arriving at the gates of heaven on a great military charger and being rejected by St. Peter, who cannot be made to understand how the vicar of Christ could have turned from humility, service, and devoted spiritual life to warfare and diplomacy.

With a huff, I lock the door behind us and follow him to his Charger parked in the driveway behind my van. I suppose if we really are going to meet professional football royalty tonight, then we should arrive in a style that matches our suits rather than… well, my mini-van that looks right at home here on Shanty Row.

It happens at times that men can outlive themselves and persevere, like wraiths, by carrying out the actions they have always carried out; their souls are mute but not their voices, and their hands and feet do not stop moving. Seeing them in the street or riding in the saddles of their chargers, no one would think that their minds had lost their hum, that the blood in their veins was heatless and spent; nor do the women they still hold tight to their bosoms ever imagine such a tremendous absence... And in the city there's no lack of them... Often, even, the more vacuum inside them is pierced, the more grandiosely they act, giving shows of themselves, fashioning great spectacles of gaiety, dauntlessness and brio.

Fuck it. I’m going to bed. I storm up the stairs, turn off the T.V., and slip back into my bed, connecting my phone to the charger, and then toss the blanket over my head.  Under here, the monsters can’t get me. I’m safe. Untouchable.

My cramps surged and I clutched my stomach with a grimace. I was in the throes of another epic period. This, coupled with hunger, the events from earlier, and the 3:00 a.m. police drama at my house that I wasn’t telling Sloan about, had me in a fine mood. I was so tired I’d just tried to plug my charger into my coffee cup instead of my phone.

Suraj solar and allied industries, Wework galaxy, 43, Residency Road, Bangalore-560025. Mobile number : +91 808 850 7979 Sun oriented streetlamps are a creative and practical lighting arrangement that bridles the force of the sun to enlighten streets, pathways, and public spaces. In urban communities like Bangalore, where energy proficiency and natural manageability are key needs, the reception of sun based streetlamps has been picking up speed. This article investigates the different parts of sun based streetlamps, including their advantages, estimating factors in Bangalore, an examination of various items, experiences into a main supplier like SuneaseSolar, ways to choose the right streetlamp, and rules for establishment and support. 1. Prologue to Sunlight based Streetlamps What are Sunlight based Streetlamps? Sun oriented streetlamps are independent lighting frameworks that bridle the force of daylight to enlighten open air spaces like roads, pathways, and public regions. These lights comprise of sun powered chargers, Drove lights, batteries, and a regulator to deal with the energy stream. Significance of Sun based Streetlamps Sun based streetlamps assume a significant part in improving wellbeing, security, and perceivability in metropolitan and provincial regions where customary lattice power might be untrustworthy or inaccessible. They offer a practical and productive lighting arrangement that decreases reliance on non-renewable energy sources and adds to a greener climate. 2. Advantages of Sun powered Streetlamps Energy Effectiveness Sun oriented streetlamps are profoundly energy-effective as they work by changing over daylight into power, taking out the requirement for lattice power. This outcomes in lower energy utilization and decreased fossil fuel byproducts, making them an economical lighting choice. Cost Reserve funds By using sun powered energy, sun based streetlamps help in chopping down power charges fundamentally over their life expectancy. The underlying interest in sun powered streetlamps is balanced by long haul cost reserve funds because of negligible upkeep prerequisites and no power costs. Ecological Effect Sunlight based streetlamps add to natural preservation by using inexhaustible sun oriented energy and decreasing carbon impressions. They help in fighting environmental change and advancing a cleaner, greener planet by diminishing dependence on non-sustainable power sources. 3. Factors Influencing solar street light price in bangalore Nature of Parts The cost of sun oriented streetlamps in Bangalore can change in view of the nature of parts utilized, like sun powered chargers, batteries, and Drove lights. More excellent parts frequently bring about better execution and strength, yet may come at a greater cost. Government Endowments and Motivators Government endowments and motivators can affect the last expense of sun based streetlamps in Bangalore. Different plans and projects might offer monetary help or tax reductions, making sunlight based lighting more reasonable and appealing for shoppers. Establishment and Support Expenses Extra factors like establishment and upkeep expenses can impact the general cost of sunlight based streetlamps. Legitimate establishment and normal support guarantee ideal execution and life span, prompting likely expense reserve funds over the long haul. 4. Examination of solar street light price in bangalore Market Investigation of Various Brands A correlation of sunlight based streetlamp costs in Bangalore ought to incorporate an examination of various brands and their contributions. Factors like brand notoriety, item quality, and after-deals backing can affect the cost and generally an incentive for purchasers. Highlights and Particulars While contrasting sun powered streetlamp costs in Bangalore, it's fundamental to consider the highlights and determinations presented by various models.

Pour écrire vite, il faut avoir beaucoup pensé, — avoir trimballé un sujet avec soi, à la promenade, au bain, au restaurant, et presque chez sa maîtresse. E. Delacroix me disait un jour : « L’art est une chose si idéale et si fugitive, que les outils ne sont jamais assez propres, ni les moyens assez expéditifs. » Il en est de même de la littérature ; — je ne suis donc pas partisan de la rature ; elle trouble le miroir de la pensée ... Couvrir une toile n’est pas la charger de couleurs, c’est ébaucher en frottis, c’est disposer des masses en tons légers et transparents. — La toile doit être couverte — en esprit — au moment où l’écrivain prend la plume pour écrire le titre.

hope on its gallant charger is still carrying us all high.

Suraj solar and allied industries, Wework galaxy, 43, Residency Road, Bangalore-560025. Mobile number : +91 808 850 7979 Solar Street Light Manufacturers in Bangalore- SunEase Sun based As urban areas take a stab at feasible turn of events, sun powered road lighting has become fundamental in metropolitan and provincial regions the same. In Bangalore, known as the tech center point of India, SunEase Sun based is driving the charge in assembling great sun powered streetlamps that add to energy reserve funds and natural preservation. Why Pick Sun powered Streetlamps? Sun powered streetlamps are an eco-accommodating, practical option in contrast to conventional road lighting. These frameworks convert daylight into energy during the day, putting away it in batteries to drive lights around evening time. By utilizing sun based fueled lighting, urban communities can decrease energy utilization and lower fossil fuel byproducts, while guaranteeing solid lighting for security and perceivability. About SunEase Sun oriented SunEase Sun oriented is one of the Solar Street Light Manufacturers in Bangalore . Known for its imaginative methodology and obligation to supportability, SunEase Sun powered conveys strong, energy-proficient road lighting arrangements. Whether for private networks, recreational areas, interstates, or modern buildings, SunEase Sun based gives altered answers for meet explicit prerequisites. Key Elements of SunEase Sun powered Streetlamps High Effectiveness and Long Battery Duration SunEase Sun oriented streetlamps utilize progressed sunlight based chargers and lithium-particle batteries to guarantee ideal energy stockpiling and dependable power. These high-productivity boards augment energy catch, even in low daylight conditions, guaranteeing that the lights stay endured the evening. Brilliant Control Frameworks The streetlamps from SunEase Sun powered highlight shrewd controls, considering mechanized splendor changes in view of time or surrounding light. This limits energy squander and broadens the functional existence of each light. Climate Safe Plan SunEase Sun oriented streetlamps are intended to endure Bangalore's fluctuated atmospheric conditions, from weighty downpours to extraordinary summer heat. The lights accompany a sturdy, climate safe packaging that safeguards inward parts, guaranteeing predictable execution consistently. Low Support Sun based streetlamps by SunEase Sun powered are low-upkeep, lessening functional costs over the long run. With great materials and trend setting innovation, these lights offer superb unwavering quality, requiring insignificant upkeep. Simple Establishment The sun based streetlamps from SunEase Sun oriented are intended for simple, bother free establishment. Since they don't need complex wiring, they can be introduced rapidly in practically any area, making them ideal for remote or off-lattice regions. Uses of SunEase Sun oriented Streetlamps Local locations and Lodging Social orders: Improve security and style with sun based road lighting in private zones. Recreational areas and Pathways: Give lighting to public spaces, empowering safe utilization into the evening. Modern and Business Edifices: Guarantee sufficiently bright conditions for security and functional proficiency. Provincial and Far off Regions: Sun oriented streetlamps offer a solid arrangement in regions without admittance to lattice power. Why Pick SunEase Sun powered for Your Lighting Needs? SunEase Sun powered stands apart among sun oriented streetlamp producers in Bangalore for its commitment to quality, solidness, and state of the art innovation. They focus on consumer loyalty and deal complete help, from item determination to after-deals administration. With an accomplished group and elevated expectations, SunEase Sun based guarantees each venture is customized to meet the client's interesting necessities.

Suraj solar and allied industries, Wework galaxy, 43, Residency Road, Bangalore-560025. Mobile number : +91 808 850 7979 **Enlighten Your Roads with Eco-Accommodating Splendor: Solar Street Light Manufacturers in Bangalore** Lately, the worldwide shift toward feasible and environmentally friendly power sources has prepared for creative arrangements in metropolitan framework. Among these, sunlight based road lighting has arisen as a reasonable and effective option in contrast to customary streetlamps. For occupants and organizations in Bangalore looking for solid sunlight based streetlamp producers, Sunease Sun powered stands apart as a main supplier in this eco-accommodating transformation. Sun based streetlamps work utilizing sun oriented energy, bridling the force of the sun during the day and switching it into power over completely to enlighten roads after dusk. This lessens power utilization as well as eliminates carbon impressions, making them a harmless to the ecosystem choice for metropolitan spaces. Sunease Sun oriented's scope of sun based streetlamps consolidates cutting edge innovation with supportable practices to offer an answer that serves both usefulness and eco-cognizance. Bangalore, known for its clamoring roads and quick urbanization, has seen a developing requirement for further developed road lighting arrangements. Customary streetlamps consume huge power, stressing power assets and adding to ecological debasement. Nonetheless, with Sunease Sun oriented's sun based streetlamp frameworks, this story is evolving. Their items incorporate high-proficiency sunlight based chargers, high level Drove installations, and savvy light administration frameworks, guaranteeing that the lights work proficiently over the course of the night while adjusting to changing atmospheric conditions. One of the basic benefits of settling on Sunease Sun oriented's items is their obligation to quality and solidness. Their sun based streetlamps are intended to endure unforgiving weather patterns, including weighty downpour, solid breezes, and outrageous temperatures, making them an ideal fit for the powerful environment of Bangalore. Additionally, their items require insignificant support, offering long haul investment funds on both substitution and upkeep costs. The establishment interaction is one more huge advantage of sun oriented streetlamps from Sunease Sun based. Not at all like conventional lighting arrangements that frequently require broad wiring and framework, sun oriented lights can be introduced rapidly and productively. They are independent units that accompany worked in sun powered chargers and batteries, empowering simple arrangement in different areas without the requirement for broad foundation. This adaptability permits metropolitan organizers to upgrade public security and local area spaces without disturbing the current climate. Sunease Sun based likewise accentuates mechanical coordination in their sun powered streetlamp frameworks. With highlights, for example, movement sensors and shrewd lighting controls, these lights change their brilliance in view of continuous necessities, considering energy reserve funds and expanded effectiveness. This innovation expands the life expectancy of the lights as well as saves roads protected and sufficiently bright for people on foot and vehicles, exhibiting a guarantee to local area security and commitment. As well as being an innovator in assembling sun oriented streetlamps, Sunease Sun based advocates for greener metropolitan practices. They work intimately with civil bodies, property engineers, and private networks to advance the reception of environmentally friendly power sources, in this manner adding to the bigger discussion about maintainability in Bangalore.

Splatoon Weapon Level Required Price Sub Weapon Special Weapon Single Player Scroll Splattershot Jr. 1 N/A Splat Bomb Bubbler N/A Slattershot 2 500 Burst Bomb Bomb Rush N/A Custom Splattershot Jr. 2 800 Disruptor Echolocator Octostomp Scroll Splat Roller 3 1,000 Suction Bomb Killer Wail N/A Splat Charger 3 1,000 Splat Bomb Bomb Rush N/A Tentatek Splattershot 4 2,000 Suction Bomb Inkzooza N/A Kelp Splat Charger 4 2,500 Sprinkler Killer Wail Octonozzle Scroll .52 Gal 5 3,000 Splash Wall Killer Wail N/A Classic Squiffer 6 5,000 Point Sensor Bubbler N/A Krak-On Splat Roller 7 3,000 Squid Beacon Kraken N/A Aerospray MG 7 4,500 Seeker Inkzooza Octowhirl Scroll

Another game-changing project is the BRCK, pronounced “brick,” created by the same team behind Ushahidi and iHub. On a flight back to Africa from the United States some years ago, Hersman looked down on our vast, rugged continent and wondered why it was that most routers and modems were built for the first-world comfort zones of, say, New York or London, whereas most Internet users actually live in the harsh, far less comfortable environments of Asia, Africa and Latin America. The team sketched out a design for a rugged portable connectivity device that could work in remote conditions where electrical power and Internet connections were a problem. The result is the BRCK, a sturdy, brick-shaped, cloud-enabled Wi-Fi hotspot router from which you can access the Internet from anywhere on the continent that is close to a signal. It has an antenna, charger, USB ports, 4 GB of storage, a built-in global SIM card and enough backup power to survive a blackout. The device sells for $199 online and is already being used in 45 countries around the world. Consider the provenance: designed in Nairobi, Kenya; manufactured in Austin, Texas. This is a complete reversal of the standard manufacturing paradigm. Again, an example of African technology going global.

The brainstorm became known as eCAP (El Crystal Audiobook Project) and added up to sixty iPod kits (from grant money), along with six hundred audiobooks. When a teacher identifies a non-proficient reader, she sits down with the student and they construct a fifteen-book playlist from the school’s master list and load it into an iPod. The kit that accompanies it includes the book’s text, a charger, headphones, and any necessary instructions. Best of all, it stays with the student—in school and out—for the entire school year, with more books loaded as needed. The student listens to the book on the iPod while following along in the text with his eyes.

scenes from the Legends of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table many lovely pictures have been painted, showing much diversity of figures and surroundings, some being definitely sixth-century British or Saxon, as in Blair Leighton’s fine painting of the dead Elaine; others—for example, Watts’ Sir Galahad—show knight and charger in fifteenth-century armour; while the warriors of Burne Jones wear strangely impracticable armour of some mystic period. Each of these painters was free to follow his own conception, putting the figures into whatever period most appealed to his imagination; for he was not illustrating the actual tales written by Sir Thomas Malory, otherwise he would have found himself face to face with a difficulty. King Arthur and his knights fought, endured, and toiled in the sixth century, when the Saxons were overrunning Britain; but their achievements were not chronicled by Sir Thomas Malory until late in the fifteenth century. Sir Thomas, as Froissart has done before him, described the habits of life, the dresses, weapons, and armour that his own eyes looked upon in the every-day scenes about him, regardless of the fact that almost every detail mentioned was something like a thousand years too late. Had Malory undertaken an account of the landing of Julius Caesar he would, as a matter of course, have protected the Roman legions with bascinet or salade, breastplate, pauldron and palette, coudiére, taces and the rest, and have armed them with lance and shield, jewel-hilted sword and slim misericorde; while the Emperor himself might have been given the very suit of armour stripped from the Duke of Clarence before his fateful encounter with the butt of malmsey. Did not even Shakespeare calmly give cannon to the Romans and suppose every continental city to lie majestically beside the sea? By the old writers, accuracy in these matters was disregarded, and anachronisms were not so much tolerated as unperceived. In illustrating this edition of “The Legends of King Arthur and his Knights,” it has seemed best, and indeed unavoidable if the text and the pictures are to tally, to draw what Malory describes, to place the fashion

This is true of any device that uses power, which is a handy thing to know. For example, people worry about leaving disconnected chargers plugged into the wall for fear that they’re draining power. Are they right? Heat flow analysis provides a simple rule of thumb: If an unused charger isn’t warm to the touch, it’s using less than a penny of electricity a day. For a small smartphone charger, if it’s not warm to the touch, it’s using less than a penny a year. This is true of almost any powered device.

James Holland, editor of gadgets website electricpig.co.uk, said: “You’d buy a desk that charged any gadget placed on it. You’d never need to hunt for the right charger again.” Also, in 2007, a team from MIT's Department of Physics, Department of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science, and Institute