Charles Handy Quotes

The moment will arrive when you are comfortable with who you are, and what you are– bald or old or fat or poor, successful or struggling- when you don't feel the need to apologize for anything or to deny anything. To be comfortable in your own skin is the beginning of strength.

The world may admire the truth-tellers, but few will want to employ them.

Anything that takes us out of our comfort zones for a while can act as a reminder that the past we are used to may not be our best future.

Democracy assumes that individuals must be allowed to be the best judge of their own interests, even if they often seem to be misguided. Governments are not there to tell us what to believe or think, they are there to represent our beliefs, and to translate them into laws or regulations.

He said, “You are lucky to be traveling in a place where a spring is so handy. In my country you can ride for days and see no ground water. I have lapped filthy water from a hoofprint and was glad to have it. You don’t know what discomfort is until you have nearly perished for water.” Rooster said, “If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies that says he never drank from a horse track I think I will shake his hand and give him a Daniel Webster cigar.

In the words of organizational guru Charles Handy, “The companies that survive are the ones that work out what they uniquely can give to the world—not just growth or money but their excellence, their respect for others, or their ability to make people happy.”22

Don’t be out of temper, my dear,’ urged Fagin, submissively. ‘I have never forgot you, Bill; never once.’ ‘No! I’ll pound it that you han’t,’ replied Sikes, with a bitter grin. ‘You’ve been scheming and plotting away, every hour that I have laid shivering and burning here; and Bill was to do this; and Bill was to do that; and Bill was to do it all, dirt cheap, as soon as he got well: and was quite poor enough for your work. If it hadn’t been for the girl, I might have died.’ ‘There now, Bill,’ remonstrated Fagin, eagerly catching at the word. ‘If it hadn’t been for the girl! Who but poor ould Fagin was the means of your having such a handy girl about you?’ ‘He says true enough there!’ said Nancy, coming hastily forward. ‘Let him be; let him be.

This idea was first coined by Charles Handy in his book The Age of Unreason

researcher Charles Handy at the London Business School concluded: Trust gives people a sense of belonging. When people feel they’re active members of their work community—not merely hired help—they become interested in the company’s future and willingly dedicate their time and talent.119

Charles Handy once said in an interview: “If you groan about your job or find it has become monotonous and boring, you need to ask yourself—what do you secretly want to do? Do it. You can have a breakpoint and reinvent yourself. Sensible people reinvent themselves every ten years.

Therein lies the insight: Even though you will continue moving forever—with each move taking you half the remaining distance to the wall—the total distance you travel can never be more than 2 feet, which is your starting distance from the wall. For mathematical purposes, the total distance you travel can be approximated as 2 feet, which turns out to be very handy for computation purposes. A mathematician would say that the sum of this infinite series 1 ft + ½ ft + ¼ ft + ⅛ ft . . . converges to 2 feet, which is what our instructor was trying to teach us that day.

live recording of Charles Mingus at Carnegie Hall on the turntable, chosen for the twenty-four-minute version of “C Jam Blues” on side 1. The 1974 concert was up-tempo, high energy, and largely improvisational, and just what Bosch needed for wading through case reports. The concert, including Bosch favorite John Handy on tenor sax, helped put him into the proper groove.

For organizational behavior expert Charles Handy, the S-curve is the essential form of how businesses, social organizations and political systems develop over time, “it is the line of all things human.”7 Tech analyst Paul Saffo advises to “look for the S-curve,” noting that the uptake of new technologies—from personal robots to driverless cars—is destined to follow its shape.8 Scholars have used the sigmoid curve to describe the rise and fall of ancient civilizations like the Roman Empire, but also to predict modern-day shifts, such as the decline of the United States as a global superpower.9 In the field of systems thinking, the authors of the Club of Rome’s 1972 report The Limits to Growth put the S-curve at the heart of their analysis.10 More recently, economist Kate Raworth has shown that mainstream economics assumes that GDP growth follows an “exponential curve left hanging in mid-air,” when the reality is that it is far more likely to level off into the shape of the S-curve.

Wang and his colleagues use the analogy of a toolbox to justify a multi-pronged approach since one size may not fit all fact situations. “In jurisprudence, as with home repair, it can be handy to have a kit containing more than one tool.”117 Different tools may be required depending on the number of districts in a jurisdiction, the level of partisan competition, geography, and so forth. Michael D. McDonald and colleagues offer a five-part test for assessing a statewide plan, along with a four-part test for a district-level

Well, I know you don’t want to talk about it anymore, but I signed you up for that computer match thingy.” Why is it that so many people over the age of sixty refer to everything on the Internet as some sort of “computer thing”? Helen was trying to contain her laughter. “Laura, do you mean Match.com?” My father was groaning audibly now. “Yes, that’s it. Charles helped me put up her profile.” “Oh my god, Mother. Are you kidding me?” Helen jumped out of her seat and started running toward the computer in my dad’s home office, which was right off the dining room. “Get out of there, Helen,” my dad yelled, but she ignored him. I chased after her, but she stuck her arm out, blocking me from the monitor. “No, I have to see it!” she shouted. “Stop it, girls,” my mother chided. “Move, bitch.” We were very mature for our age. “This is the best day of my life. Your mommy made a Match profile for you!” “Actually, Chuck made it,” my mother yelled from across the hall. Oh shit. Helen typed my name in quickly. My prom picture from nine years ago popped up on the screen. My brother had cropped Steve Dilbeck out of the photo the best he could, but you could still see Steve’s arms wrapped around my purple chiffon–clad waist. “You’re joking. You’re fucking joking.” “Language, Charlotte!” my dad yelled. “Mom,” I cried, “he used my prom photo! What is wrong with him?” I still had braces at eighteen. I had to wear them for seven years because my orthodontist said I had the worst teeth he had ever seen. You know how sharks have rows of teeth? Yeah, that was me. I blame my mother and the extended breastfeeding for that one, too. My brother, Chuck the Fuck, used to tease me, saying it was leftovers of the dead Siamese twin I had absorbed in utero. My brother’s an ass, so it’s pretty awesome that he set up this handy dating profile for me. In case you hadn’t noticed, our names are Charlotte and Charles. Just more parental torture. Would it be dramatic to call that child abuse? Underneath my prom photo, I read the profile details while Helen laughed so hard she couldn’t breath. My name is Charlotte and I am an average twenty-seven year-old. If you looked up the word mediocre in the dictionary you would see a picture of me—more recent than this nine-year-old photo, of course, because at least back then I hadn’t inked my face like an imbecile. Did I forget to mention that I have a tiny star tattooed under my left eye? Yes, I’d been drunk at the time. It was a momentary lapse of judgment. It would actually be cute if it was a little bigger, but it’s so small that most people think it’s a piece of food or a freckle. I cover it up with makeup. I like junk food and watching reality TV. My best friend and I like to drink Champagne because it makes us feel sophisticated, then we like to have a farting contest afterward. I’ve had twelve boyfriends in the last five years so I’m looking for a lifer. It’s not a coincidence that I used the same term as the one for prisoners ineligible for parole. “Chuck the Fuck,” Helen squeaked through giggles. I turned and glared at her. “He still doesn’t know that you watched him jerk off like a pedophile when he was fourteen.” “He’s only three years younger than us.” “Four. And I will tell him. I’ll unleash Chuck the Fuck on you if you don’t quit.” My breasts are small and my butt is big and I have a moderately hairy upper lip. I also don’t floss, clean my retainer, or use mouthwash with any regularity. “God, my brother is so obsessed with oral hygiene!” “That’s what stood out to you? He said you have a mustache.” Helen grinned. “Girls, get out of there and come clear the table,” my dad yelled. “What do you think the password is?” “Try ‘Fatbutt,’ ” I said. “Yep, that worked. Okay, I’ll change your profile while you clear the table.

In the twenty-first century, the winners will be those who stay ahead of the change curve, constantly redefining their industries, creating new markets, blazing new trails, reinventing the competitive rules, challenging the status quo. To use Charles Handy’s words, it will be those who ‘invent the world’, not those who respond to it. Of course, it requires far less effort to follow in the tracks of the leader than it does to find your own migration path to the future, and there was a time when this was an option. But not any more. Tomorrow’s global markets will show no mercy to the me-too crowd.

Cory Doctorow hat dieses Werk unter der Creative-Commons-Lizenz(CC-BY-NC-SA) veröffentlicht die es jedermann erlaubt, das Werk frei zu verbreiten und zu bearbeiten ... (siehe wikipedia "little brother", dort auch Links zu den ebooks der Übersetzung) Unter Nutzung dieser Lizenz hat Christian Wöhrl eine deutsche Übersetzung des Romans angefertigt. Aus dieser ist ein Fanhörbuchprojekt entstanden. ... hier meine Zitate aus Readmill: Ich hatte also grade 10 Sekunden auf dreitausend Rechnern gemietet und jeden einzelnen angewiesen, eine SMS oder einen VoIP-Anruf an Charles' Handy abzusetzen; dessen Nummer hatte ich mal während einer dieser verhängnisvollen Bürositzungen bei Benson von einem Post-it abgelesen. Muss ich erwähnen, dass Charles' Telefon nicht in der Lage war, damit umzugehen? Zuerst ließen die SMS den Gerätespeicher überlaufen, sodass das Handy nicht mal mehr seine Routinen ausführen konnte, etwa das Klingeln zu koordinieren und die gefälschten Rufnummern der eingehenden Anrufe aufzuzeichnen. (Wusstet ihr, dass es völlig simpel ist, die Rückrufnummer einer Anruferkennung zu faken? Dafür gibts ungefähr 50 verschiedene Möglichkeiten - einfach mal "Anrufer-ID fälschen" googeln...) Charles starrte sein Telefon fassungslos an und hackte auf ihm herum, die wulstigen Augenbrauen regelrecht verknotet ob der Anstrengung, dieser Dämonen Herr zu werden, die das persönlichste seiner Geräte in Besitz genommen hatten. Sekunden später kackte Charles' Handy spektakulär ab. Zehntausende von zufälligen Anrufen und SMS liefen parallel bei ihm auf, sämtliche Warn- und Klingeltöne meldeten sich gleichzeitig und dann wieder und wieder. Den Angriff hatte ich mithilfe eines Botnetzes bewerkstelligt, was mir einerseits ein schlechtes Gewissen bereitete; aber andererseits war es ja im Dienst einer guten Sache. In Botnetzen fristen infizierte Rechner ihr untotes Dasein. Wenn du dir einen Wurm oder Virus fängst, sendet dein Rechner eine Botschaft an einen Chat-Kanal im IRC, dem Internet Relay Chat. Diese Botschaft zeigt dem Botmaster, also dem Typen, der den Wurm freigesetzt hat, dass da Computer sind, die auf seinen Befehl warten. Botnetze sind enorm mächtig, da sie aus Tausenden, manchmal Hunderttausenden von Rechnern bestehen, die über das ganze Internet verteilt sind, meist über Breitbandleitungen verbunden sind und auf schnelle Heim-PCs Das Buch passte grade so in die Mikrowelle, die sogar noch unappetitlicher aussah als beim letzten Mal, als ich sie brauchte. Ich wickelte das Buch penibel in Papiertücher, bevor ich es reinsteckte. "Mann, Lehrer sind Schweine", zischelte ich. Darryl, bleich und angespannt, erwiderte nichts. Dann packte ich das primäre Arbeitsgerät unserer Schule wieder aus und wählte den Klassenzimmer-Modus. Die SchulBooks waren die verräterischsten Geräte von allen - zeichneten jede Eingabe auf, kontrollierten den Netzwerkverkehr auf verdächtige Eingaben, zählten alle Klicks, zeichneten jeden flüchtigen Gedanken auf, den du übers Netz verbreitetest. Wir hatten sie in meinem ersten Jahr hier bekommen, und es hatte bloß ein paar Monate gedauert, bis der Reiz dieser Dinger verflogen war. Sobald die Leute merkten, dass diese "kostenlosen" Laptops in Wirklichkeit für die da oben arbeiteten (und im Übrigen mit massenhaft nerviger Werbung verseucht waren), fühlten die Kisten sich plötzlich sehr, sehr schwer an. Mein SchulBook zu cracken war simpel gewesen. Der Crack war binnen eines Monats nach Einführung der Maschine online zu finden, und es war eine billige Nummer - bloß ein DVD-Image runterladen, brennen, ins SchulBook stecken und die Kiste hochfahren, während man ein paar Tasten gleichzeitig gedrückt hielt. Die DVD erledigte den Rest und installierte etliche versteckte Programme auf dem Laptop, die von den täglichen Fernprüfungs-Routinen der Schulleitung nicht gefunden werden konnten.

When ideas fail, words come in very handy.” GOETHE

As researcher Charles Handy at the London Business School concluded: Trust gives people a sense of belonging. When people feel they’re active members of their work community—not merely hired help—they become interested in the company’s future and willingly dedicate their time and talent.119

The great management guru Charles Handy says that, as far as money goes, you have to look after yourself. He reckons you may need to do something else as well as your “passion project” to earn money, particularly in the early stages of a new business

Here I got rid of one of the most troublesome parts of my load — trading my venerable and battered Winchester rifle for a splendid new Colt's six-shooter with all its trappings — a perfect weapon which has since seen me through many a "close call." The exchange was a most welcome relief, and as for effectiveness, I soon got so handy with the new arm that there was no need for the rifle.

She could start a fight in an empty room, and regards a belt as a handy indication of what to hit below.

She could start a fight in an empty room, and regards a belt as a handy indication of what to hit below.