Chase Andrews Quotes

I raged across the field, killing all before me. They ran when they saw me coming, and I chased them down, and killed them before they could take someone else's friend away from them.

I once knew a woman who liked to imagine Love in the guise of a sturdy dog, one that would always chase down the stick after it was thrown and return with his ears flopping around happily. Completely loyal, completely unconditional. And I laughed at her, because even I knew that love is not like that. Love is a delicate thing that needs to be cosseted and protected. Love is not robust and love is not unyeilding. Love can crumble under a few harsh words, or be tossed away with a handful of careless actions. Love isn't a steadfast dog at all; love is more like a pygmy mouse lemur.

Daemon scratched his chest, his expression doubtful. “And how are we going to get her to exert energy.” Andrew grinned from across the room. “We could take her out to a field and chase her around in our cars. That sounds fun.

You want me to level, here it is: I need you. I need you because I love you. Three months without you will be hell. But even if we weren’t together, I would still need you. You’re a good fighter, you’ve worked as a bodyguard, and you know magic. We may not have many magic users, but we don’t know if those packs do, and if they hit us with magic, we have no way to counter.” He spread his arms. “But I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt. I’m not going to ask you to come with me. That would be like stepping in front of a moving train and saying, ‘Hey, honey, come stand next to me.’” I hopped off the wall and stood next to him. “Anytime.” He just looked at me. “I’ve never killed a train before. It might be fun to try.” “Are you sure?” “One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me.” “I remember,” he said. “That’s when I realized you loved me,” I said. “I was in the cage and I heard you roar.

Some women waited for a night in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her.

Curran snarled and hurled the rock against the mountain. The boulder flew, hit like a cannon ball, and rolled back down. Curran chased it, pulled another smaller rock out of the dirt, and smashed it against the first one. Wow. He was really pissed. Astamur's eyes were as big as plates. "I can get him to put those back after he's done," I told him. "No," Astamur said slowly. "It's fine." Curran picked up the smaller rock with both hands and threw it onto the larger boulder. The boulder cracked and fell apart. Oops. "Sorry we broke your rock." Atsany took the pipe out of his mouth and said something. "Mrrrhhhm," Astamur said. "What did he say?" "He said that the man must be your husband, because only someone we love very much can make us this crazy.

I just think it’s amazing that a person could lose everything, chasing nothing.

Unfortunately, the Best Lord had condemned both vehicles as unsafe and instead I now leased a Pack Jeep I called Hector. Equipped with dual engines, Hector worked during magic or tech. He didn't go very fast, especially during magic, but so far he hadn't stalled on me either. As long as our high-speed chases stayed under forty-five miles an hour, we would be all set.

Andrew made the mistake of turning his face away at one point, so Neil chased water down the side of Andrew's neck. Andrew's fingers clenched convulsively on Neil's sides as a shudder wracked Andrew's frame. Andrew tried to recover with a ground-out, "Your neck fetish is not attractive." "You like it," Neil said, unapologetic. "I like that you like it." He

After I chased the werewolf and the vampire out of my office, I changed my clothes.

You Can't Write Perfect Software. Did that hurt? It shouldn't. Accept it as an axiom of life. Embrace it. Celebrate it. Because perfect software doesn't exist. No one in the brief history of computing has ever written a piece of perfect software. It's unlikely that you'll be the first. And unless you accept this as a fact, you'll end up wasting time and energy chasing an impossible dream.

From inside, I hear Sister Beatrice’s voice: “Did Andrew leave already? Such a sweet boy he is. And devoted too, when he sets his heart to a task. Let me tell you about the time he weeded the convent’s garden. It’s a long story, but we ’ave all afternoon. There was a scuffle in the lunch room, you see…

One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me." "I remember," he said. "That's when I realized you loved me," I said. "I was in the cage and I heard you roar.

I extended my hand to Chase, "Eveline Sophia Fallon, daughter of Brennan and Mina, sister of Gaurdian and supposedly the One." His chuckle was low and sexy and caused a tremor to course through me. I fought to keep my hand steady so he wouldn't see the way he affected me. Liam stiffened beside me but for once said nothing. Chase inclined his head haughtily, playing along. "Chase Andrew Alexander err...Smith, at least for now. Son of Gabriel, elder brother of Guardian and Jennavieve. No relation to the, 'supposed' One. Thank goodness," he grinned wickedly then bowed slightly.

I kissed her until she understood I would crush worlds for her. I would cross the skies and seas chasing her light.

And you brought the ski mask?” “Yes. It’s not cold, though, even up above.” “It’s not for the cold. The pegasi like to chase birds. Birds don’t like to be chased.” “Okay.” Whatever that meant. Chapter 10 BIRDS WERE ASSHOLES.

As they moved closer, she flattened herself against the oak and peered around. Five girls and four boys, a bit older than she, maybe twelve. She recognized Chase Andrews throwing

We seen Chase Andrews flat out in the swamp

How is Baby B doing?” He grinned. “A wolf boy tried to steal her toy at the picnic last week. She chased him down, took the toy away, and beat him bloody with it.” “You must be so proud.” “Oh, I am.

but the law would never believe the Marsh Girl over Chase Andrews. She wasn’t sure what the two fishermen had seen, but they’d never defend her. They’d say she had it coming because, before Chase left her,

Music is the only thing that understands and can respond to all emotions of the heart. When you’re happy you hear the melody, when you’re angry you focus on the beat, and when you’re sad you listen to the lyrics.

But he had noticed her. Had held her eyes. Her breath froze as a heat flowed through her. She tracked them, mostly him, down to the shore. Her mind looking one way, her desire the other. Her body watched Chase Andrews, not her heart.

Waves are like friends. Some are big and bold, some not so much. Others come to greet you, while still there are those you have to chase. There are those which are deceiving, as they look good in the beginning, but will betray and crush you in the end. It’s truly hard to know the perfect wave. Only when you are within its folds do you realize it was either a good or bad decision on your part. By that point, it’s either too late or just right.

but the law would never believe the Marsh Girl over Chase Andrews. She wasn’t sure what the two fishermen had seen, but they’d never defend her. They’d say she had it coming because, before Chase left her, she’d been seen smooching with him for years, behaving unladylike. Actin’ the ho, they’d say.

I’m trying to understand.” I opened my eyes. Explaining my moral code really wasn’t my forte. “Imagine you’re being chased by wolves. You’re running through the woods, no settlement in sight, and you come across a baby lying abandoned on the ground. Do you save the baby or do you leave him for the wolves?” I saw the hesitation in his dark eyes. “I’d leave the little bastard,” he declared, a bit too loudly. “Would slow the wolves down.” “You had a doubt.” He raised his hand but I shook my head. “I saw it. You had a doubt. You thought about it for a second. The same force that drove that doubt is what makes us fight.

There was another message and I had a pretty good idea who it was from. For a while I sat in the kitchen and petted the attack poodle, deciding whether I should listen to the message or just erase it. Finally I pushed the button and Curran’s voice filled the room. “You can run, but it won’t matter. I will find you and we will talk. I’ve never asked or expected you to deal with me on shapeshifter terms, but this is juvenile even by human standards. You owe me an answer. Here, I’ll make it easy for you. If you want me, meet me and I’ll explain my side of what happened. Or you can run away from me the way you always do, and this time I won’t chase you. Decide.

Some people chase the idea of death so much they forget to do something as simple, yet profound, as live.

Derek Marcus Andrew Kent, the Duke of Chase, did not usually consider murder. Tonight was an exception.

Bug turned to me. “I have been chasing that shit monkey all over the fucking city. He destroyed three of my drones. He mocked me.

A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world.” – John Le Carre

Kya turned the page to continue the story, and there loomed a large picture of Chase and a girl above an engagement announcement: Andrews-Stone.

The forty-seven-year-old Diderot had been an ideal model for Garand, having been confined to a chair after running into a shin-level metal bar while chasing swans around the château’s fountain.

It’s not like I could kill Curran now. Should. It’s not like I should kill Curran now. I could always try. Later. The Beast Lord crossed his arms on his chest. His face looked placid. Calm before the storm . . . The jaguar at my feet tensed and tried to look smaller. Nick needed a bit of a distraction while he rode like a bat out of hell on the horse commandeered from the Pack stables. I’d provided that distraction by leading Jim and his posse of pissy shapechangers on a merry chase through the countryside. “Just so we’re clear,” Curran said. “You did understand that I didn’t wish you or the Crusader to leave Keep?” “Yes.” “That’s what I thought,” Curran said. He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. My feet felt no floor. His fingers crushed my neck. I clasped the hand that held me and jammed a long silver needle into his palmar nerve between the index finger and thumb. Curran’s fingers trembled. His hand opened releasing me. I slid to the floor, dropped, and swiped at his legs. He fell. I rolled away and came to my feet. On the opposite side of the room Curran rose to a half crouch, his eyes burning gold. The whole thing took maybe two seconds. The stunned audience never got a chance to react. Curran reached for the needle, pulled it out, and dropped it to the floor, never taking his eyes off me. “It’s okay,” I told him. “I have more.

Most men go from one female to the next. The unworthy ones strut about, pulling you in with falsehoods. Which is probably why Ma fell for a man like Pa. Tate wasn't the only guy who left me. Chase Andrews even talked to me about marriage, but he married someone else. Didn't even tell me; I read it in the paper." "I'm so sorry. I am, but, Kya, it's not just guys who are unfaithful. I've been duped, dropped, run over a few times myself. Let's face it, a lot of times love doesn't work out. Yet even when it fails, it connects you to others and, in the end, that is all you have, the connections. Look at us; you and I have each other now, and just think, if I have kids and you have kids, well, that's a whole new string of connections. And on it goes. Kya, if you love Tate, take a chance." Kya thought of Ma's painting of Tate and herself as children, their heads close together, surrounded by pastel flowers and butterflies. Maybe a message from Ma after all.

That’s because I don’t hunt. I’m a male lion. I weigh six hundred pounds. Do you really expect me to scamper through the brush after deer? When I want a steak, I want a damn steak. I don’t want to chase it around the woods for two hours and then eat it raw. I have food brought to me, and the only time I get off my ass is when something threatens the Pack. I’ve been on exactly one hunt in the last three years. I went because I had to go, and once they ran off, I found a nice warm rock and had myself a nap in the sun.

I like the idea, which I think is prevalent amongst us, that four years at Smith College are not so much a preparation for a larger life as they are in themselves a larger life here and now,” said Chase, who during the course of her career wrote more than thirty books,

You could’ve found me. You could’ve demanded an explanation. Instead your bright idea to deal with this mess was not to talk to me. Do you get off having me chase after you like some sixteen-year-old?” “Twelve tops. Sixteen is giving you too much credit.” He bit the air. “Look who’s talking.

He had the misfortune to fall in love with a thug, who has threatened to kill Malone simply because Malone no longer loves him and was foolish enough to say so. Latins, my dear, are the only ones who take love seriously. Malone is now being chased around Manhattan by knives and bullets. He never has sex.

Has he invited you to dinner, dear? Gifts, flowers, the usual?” I had to put my cup down, because my hand was shaking too much. When I stopped laughing, I said, “Curran? He isn’t exactly Mr. Smooth. He handed me a bowl of soup, that’s as far as we got.” “He fed you?” Raphael stopped rubbing Andrea. “How did this happen?” Aunt B stared at me. “Be very specific, this is important.” “He didn’t actually feed me. I was injured and he handed me a bowl of chicken soup. Actually I think he handed me two or three. And he called me an idiot.” “Did you accept?” Aunt B asked. “Yes, I was starving. Why are the three of you looking at me like that?” “For crying out loud.” Andrea set her cup down, spilling some tea. “The Beast Lord’s feeding you soup. Think about that for a second.” Raphael coughed. Aunt B leaned forward. “Was there anybody else in the room?” “No. He chased everyone out.” Raphael nodded. “At least he hasn’t gone public yet.” “He might never,” Andrea said. “It would jeopardize her position with the Order.” Aunt B’s face was grave. “It doesn’t go past this room. You hear me, Raphael? No gossip, no pillow talk, not a word. We don’t want any trouble with Curran.” “If you don’t explain it all to me, I will strangle somebody.” Of course, Raphael might like that . . . “Food has a special significance,” Aunt D said. I nodded. “Food indicates hierarchy. Nobody eats before the alpha, unless permission is given, and no alpha eats in Curran’s presence until Curran takes a bite.” “There is more,” Aunt B said. “Animals express love through food. When a cat loves you, he’ll leave dead mice on your porch, because you’re a lousy hunter and he wants to take care of you. When a shapeshifter boy likes a girl, he’ll bring her food and if she likes him back, she might make him lunch. When Curran wants to show interest in a woman, he buys her dinner.” “In public,” Raphael added, “the shapeshifter fathers always put the first bite on the plates of their wives and children. It signals that if someone wants to challenge the wife or the child, they would have to challenge the male first.” “If you put all of Curran’s girls together, you could have a parade,” Aunt B said. “But I’ve never seen him physically put food into a woman’s hands. He’s a very private man, so he might have done it in an intimate moment, but I would’ve found out eventually. Something like that doesn’t stay hidden in the Keep. Do you understand now? That’s a sign of a very serious interest, dear.” “But I didn’t know what it meant!” Aunt B frowned. “Doesn’t matter. You need to be very careful right now. When Curran wants something, he doesn’t become distracted. He goes after it and he doesn’t stop until he obtains his goal no matter what it takes. That tenacity is what makes him an alpha.” “You’re scaring me.” “Scared might be too strong a word, but in your place, I would definitely be concerned.” I wished I were back home, where I could get to my bottle of sangria. This clearly counted as a dire emergency. As if reading my thoughts, Aunt B rose, took a small bottle from a cabinet, and poured me a shot. I took it, and drained it in one gulp, letting tequila slide down my throat like liquid fire. “Feel better?” “It helped.” Curran had driven me to drinking. At least I wasn’t contemplating suicide.

LATE ONE AFTERNOON, after watching for Chase Andrews, Kya walks from her shack and lies back on a sliver of beach, slick from the last wave. She stretches her arms over her head, brushing them against the wet sand, and extends her legs, toes pointed. Eyes closed, she rolls slowly toward the sea. Her hips and arms leave slight indentions in the glistening sand, brightening and then dimming as she moves. Rolling nearer the waves, she senses the ocean’s roar through the length of her body and feels the question: When will the sea touch me? Where will it touch me first? The foamy surge rushes the shore, reaching toward her. Tingling with expectancy, she breathes deep. Turns more and more slowly. With each revolution, just before her face sweeps the sand, she lifts her head gently and takes in the sun-salt smell. I am close, very close. It is coming. When will I feel it? A fever builds. The sand wetter beneath her, the rumble of surf louder. Even slower, by inches she moves, waiting for the touch. Soon, soon. Almost feeling it before it comes. She wants to open her eyes to peek, to see how much longer. But she resists, squinting her lids even tighter, the sky bright behind them, giving no hints. Suddenly she shrieks as the power rushes beneath her, fondles her thighs, between her legs, flows along her back, swirling under her head, pulling her hair in inky strands. She rolls faster into the deepening wave, against streaming shells and ocean bits, the water embracing her. Pushing against the sea’s strong body, she is grasped, held. Not alone. Kya sits up and opens her eyes to the ocean foaming around her in soft white patterns, always changing.

I swung it a couple of times, getting used to the weight. “Two swords,” Bran said from the doorway. His spasm had torn his clothes, and he had cut and rigged the remnants of his shirt and pants into a makeshift kilt, showcasing the world’s greatest chest. Too bad the kilt gave me a flashback to Greg’s killer. He had worn a kilt, too. “Can you handle two swords?” I pulled Slayer from the sheath, lunged at him, drawing a classic figure eight around his body with Slayer, and blocked his arm with the flat of the shorter blade when he tried to counter. “Fancy. You missed,” he said. “You want something?” “I thought since we both might die tomorrow, you’d be up for a friendly roll-in-the-hay.” “I might die. You’ll be healed.” He shook his head. “I’m not immortal, dove. Do enough damage fast and I’ll kick the bucket like the rest of you.” I disengaged and moved past him to the door. His kilt fell. “It took me forever to fix this!” He grabbed it off the floor and it fell apart in his hand. I had cut it in three places. I walked out into the hallway and almost ran into Curran accompanied by a group of shapeshifters. Bran followed me in all his naked glory. “Hey, does this mean no sex?” Curran’s face went blank. I dodged him and kept walking. Bran chased me, weaving through the shapeshifters. “Get out of my way, don’t you see I’m trying to talk to a woman?” I made the mistake of looking back in time to see Curran reach for Bran’s neck as the Hound of Morrigan rushed by. With an effort of will that must have taken a year off his life, Curran curled his fingers into a fist and lowered his hand instead. I chuckled to myself and kept walking. The Universe had proven Curran wrong: a person who aggravated him more than me did, in fact, exist.

The Garden" How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow’rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men; Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So am’rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress’ name; Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! wheres’e’er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found. When we have run our passion’s heat, Love hither makes his best retreat. The gods, that mortal beauty chase, Still in a tree did end their race: Apollo hunted Daphne so, Only that she might laurel grow; And Pan did after Syrinx speed, Not as a nymph, but for a reed. What wond’rous life in this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarine and curious peach Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons as I pass, Ensnar’d with flow’rs, I fall on grass. Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Withdraws into its happiness; The mind, that ocean where each kind Does straight its own resemblance find, Yet it creates, transcending these, Far other worlds, and other seas; Annihilating all that’s made To a green thought in a green shade. Here at the fountain’s sliding foot, Or at some fruit tree’s mossy root, Casting the body’s vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There like a bird it sits and sings, Then whets, and combs its silver wings; And, till prepar’d for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light. Such was that happy garden-state, While man there walk’d without a mate; After a place so pure and sweet, What other help could yet be meet! But ’twas beyond a mortal’s share To wander solitary there: Two paradises ’twere in one To live in paradise alone. How well the skillful gard’ner drew Of flow’rs and herbs this dial new, Where from above the milder sun Does through a fragrant zodiac run; And as it works, th’ industrious bee Computes its time as well as we. How could such sweet and wholesome hours Be reckon’d but with herbs and flow’rs!

1. Do not chase those who go, and do not stop those who come. -Blind- 카톡【AKR331】텔레【RDH705】라인【SPR331】위커【SPR705】 저희는 7가지 철칙을 바탕으로 거래를 합니다. 고객들과 지키지못할약속은 하지않습니다 1.정품보장 2.총알배송 3.투명한 가격 4.편한 상담 5.끝내주는 서비스 6.고객님 정보 보호 7.깔끔한 거래 제품구입하실때는 제가 고객님들께 약속드리는것만큼 저희쪽과 약속도 지켜주시기 바랍니다 24시간 언제든지 문의주세요 클릭해주셔셔 감사합니다 구체적인 내용은 문의하셔셔 상담받아보세요 2. Watch out for those surrounded by dark clouds. – Balthazar Graciasian 3. Rather than let me live in Paradise alone There will be no greater penalty. Goethe 4. When you associate with others, the first thing you should not forget Because the other person has their own way of life In order not to confuse them, they should not interfere with others' lives. Henry James 5. You have a bad relationship with others I hate that person being with you, If you are right and you don't agree, The person will not be reproved It is you who should be reproved. Because you have not done your heart and devotion to that person. Tolstoy 6. If you want to be liked by others, Just show that you are having a great time together. If you do that, instead of just having fun Better to hang out with the other person. And people with this temperament Even if you don't have great culture or wisdom, you have common sense. That behaviour, Who have great talent and lack this disposition I greatly move others' minds. Joseph Addis   7. Anyone who accepts others generously Always get people's hearts, Who rules with dignity and force Always buy people's anger. -King Sejong- 8. I want to interest others. Don't close your ears and eyes yourself Show interest in others. If you don't understand this, However talented and capable It is impossible to get along with others. Lawrence Gould- 9. Take care of others' interests. Undistributed profits never last long. -Voltaire- 10. It is only sin that I do not know others. What's the sin of not letting others know? Jang Young-sil 11. What comes out of you returns to you. -Blind- 12. It is never a good thing to be someone's half. We are a perfect person. Andrew Matthews 13. Treating others Cherish his body as mine. My body is not only precious. Do not forget that others' bodies are also precious. And do what you desire for others first. -Confucius-   14. Most people Neither my side nor my enemy. Also what you do or yourself There are people who do not like it. It's too much to want everyone to like you. Liz Carpenter 15. In general, introverted humans Outgoing humans get along well with outgoing humans. It is because the mind is at first comfortable and easy to understand. But the state of being at ease It is not a good condition for your own growth. Theodore Rubin

1. Do not chase those who go, and do not stop those who come. -Blind- 카톡【AKR331】텔레【RDH705】라인【SPR331】위커【SPR705】 저희는 7가지 철칙을 바탕으로 거래를 합니다. 고객들과 지키지못할약속은 하지않습니다 1.정품보장 2.총알배송 3.투명한 가격 4.편한 상담 5.끝내주는 서비스 6.고객님 정보 보호 7.깔끔한 거래 제품을 구입하실때는 저희가 구매자분들께 약속지켜드리는것만큼 구매자분들도 저희와 약속 꼭 지켜주시기 바랍니다 구체적인 내용은 문의하셔셔 상담받아보세요 클릭해주셔셔 감사합니다 24시간 언제든지 문의주세요 2. Watch out for those surrounded by dark clouds. – Balthazar Graciasian 3. Rather than let me live in Paradise alone There will be no greater penalty. Goethe 4. When you associate with others, the first thing you should not forget Because the other person has their own way of life In order not to confuse them, they should not interfere with others' lives. Henry James 5. You have a bad relationship with others I hate that person being with you, If you are right and you don't agree, The person will not be reproved It is you who should be reproved. Because you have not done your heart and devotion to that person. Tolstoy 6. If you want to be liked by others, Just show that you are having a great time together. If you do that, instead of just having fun Better to hang out with the other person. And people with this temperament Even if you don't have great culture or wisdom, you have common sense. That behaviour, Who have great talent and lack this disposition I greatly move others' minds. Joseph Addis   7. Anyone who accepts others generously Always get people's hearts, Who rules with dignity and force Always buy people's anger. -King Sejong- 8. I want to interest others. Don't close your ears and eyes yourself Show interest in others. If you don't understand this, However talented and capable It is impossible to get along with others. Lawrence Gould- 9. Take care of others' interests. Undistributed profits never last long. -Voltaire- 10. It is only sin that I do not know others. What's the sin of not letting others know? Jang Young-sil 11. What comes out of you returns to you. -Blind- 12. It is never a good thing to be someone's half. We are a perfect person. Andrew Matthews 13. Treating others Cherish his body as mine. My body is not only precious. Do not forget that others' bodies are also precious. And do what you desire for others first. -Confucius-   14. Most people Neither my side nor my enemy. Also what you do or yourself There are people who do not like it. It's too much to want everyone to like you. Liz Carpenter 15. In general, introverted humans Outgoing humans get along well with outgoing humans. It is because the mind is at first comfortable and easy to understand. But the state of being at ease It is not a good condition for your own growth. Theodore Rubin   16. Stick when you're hungry, and leave when you're hungry, When it's warm, it flocks, when it's cold This is the widespread dismissal of recognition. Chae Geun-hwa 17. With people You can't share the ball together, Together with the ball envy one another. Tribulation with people, but comfort cannot come together. Comfort will be an enemy of one another. Chae Geun-hwa 18. People must change their positions and positions. -Confucius- 19. A person is originally clean, All call for sin and blessing according to ties. The paper smells close to incense, That rope is like a fishy fish. Man dyes little by little and learns it, but he does not know how to do it himself. -Law law- 20. A person's value can only be measured in relation to others. Nietzsche 21. Be strict to yourself and generous to others -Confucius- 22. Beware of your impression of the other person Worrying is why you're the main character. Usually, a person's crush is about first showing others You should know what appears as a reaction. You don't wait Give you first. Lawrence

fighter that had just been recovered and dropped off at the boneyard. They were a dime a dozen, but sometimes they had unexploded ordnance that could be a real problem with the other boneyard ships orbiting Ceres.  One little bang and I could spend weeks (and a year’s fuel allotment) chasing down the strays that had been knocked

Some women waited for a knight in shining armor. She, apparently, had ended up with a knight in black jeans and leather, who wanted to chase her down and have his evil way with her. When she was a teenager, she used to imagine meeting a stranger. He would be from the Weird or the Broken, not from the Mire. He would be lethal and tough, so tough, he wouldn’t be afraid of her. He would be funny. And he would be handsome. She’d gotten so good at imagining this mysterious man, she could almost picture his face. William would kick his ass.

He was aware of Chunk moving parallel to him off to his left, but he felt another presence accompanying him, too. Ghosts of his fallen teammates—his Tier One brothers lost in the original Operation Crusader—were advancing with him. On his right were Thiel, Pablo, Helo, and Gabe. On his left, Rousche, Gator, and Spaz. They were all here. And so were their wives, and their children. Everyone had come to help him, the entire Tier One extended family he’d lost. Normally, he chased his ghosts away, but not this time. Not today. He let his teammates and their families advance on the truck with him. This was their mission, too. Hell, they were the mission.

Tyler always listens to him, a quiet attentiveness that reminds Chase of Lucas. Sometimes, he thinks that’s why he likes going to the house in the woods. Everyone else in his life is too busy, too impatient for his constant stream of thoughts—but Tyler isn’t. Tyler listens when he talks about nothing and seems to always hear the tiny bit of something Chase doesn’t mean to sprinkle into the babble.

Chase grins, hiding it in his homework. He thinks there are worse things than being similar to someone Tyler loves.

Son,” he starts, and Chase laughs. It’s sharp and bitter and cutting, and John flinches back at it. “Now I’m your son? Now? Fuck you, Dad,” he says. John blinks, because Chase is fourteen and he sounds so tired—so tired and broken, like all the anger has drained away and he’s just been left empty. “I needed you to remember I was your son a year ago, when Mom died and I was alone, and you sent me to live with Gran for the summer instead of being there for me. I needed you to remember I was your son when I came home to an empty house, or when I started school, the freak whose mom died. Or when we were at Gran’s for Christmas and you spent all of it drunk or fucking fishing. I needed you and you weren’t there, so don’t trot that shit out now. Not when it’s convenient.

Tyler’s face is pale and blank, his body stiff, and Chase huffs. “You are allowed to be happy, Ty.” “I don’t think that’s true.” “And that’s ok,” Chase says easily, “I’ll keep believing it for you until you do.

Tyler freezes. Chase isn’t the small, wide-eyed little boy he remembers. He doesn’t reek of grief and loneliness anymore. He isn’t hunched in on himself and afraid. Somehow, even watching him, Tyler managed to miss that Chase has grown up over the years. He’s grinning, wide and happy, his shoulders broad and straight as he bounces in place, muscular arms long and lean like the rest of him, glee written all over his face, confidence radiating from every gorgeous inch of him. And he’s gorgeous. The boy who forced his way into Tyler’s pack and family has grown up into a gorgeous man with distractingly pink lips, strong arms, and hair the perfect length for pulling, and—how the actual fuck had he missed this?

Chase, what are you doing?” “I’m trying to protect someone,” he says. Later he’ll wonder if it’s because he’s so tired, or because he wants desperately to be honest, or if it’s simply because, under her steely green gaze, he can’t possibly lie. But in the moment, while she stares at him and his fingers shake with exhaustion and caffeine, he’s painfully honest. “I want to protect someone I love.” She stares at him, then nods and puts her books aside, giving him a small smile. “How can I help?

Chase, his brilliant, fierce boy who read him Tolkien and fed him oranges and whispered his secrets—Chase made him promise. And he wants to break that promise right now so badly that his gums itch with the need to Shift. He promised. He promised Chase.

Chase looks small in Tyler’s big bed. John thinks maybe all children look small to their parents when they’re sleeping—but Chase has always been too big to be contained, moving in his sleep, filling up the world with his words, enthusiasm, curiosity, and love.

You know I’m not fourteen anymore, right?” Chase asks. John’s gaze narrows, because they still avoid The Summer We Don’t Talk About. “Chase, lemme tell you a secret,” John says. “You are always going to be fourteen to me. You’re always going to be five and one and sixteen, and three and ten and a newborn—I see all of it when I look at you, everything I did right and everything I wrong.” “Dad,” Chase whispers, looking struck. “That’s what being a parent is. I know you can take care of yourself, I know you trust Tyler and Lucas—and I know you’re right. But Chase, I’m always going to want to protect you.

But mostly, when he watches Chase, cursing in the kitchen, giggling on the couch, drooling in Tyler’s bed, bickering with his father, he thinks—this boy is magic, because magic is the only thing that could heal him, bring him from the wrecked shell of what he was, what the accident left him, and Chase did that. Chase brought him back. He thinks, for all of Chase’s power and tricks and charms, that is the strongest magic Chase works. He creates family and worth from charred remains and shattered devastation. Lucas would die to protect him, and he will kill, to keep him safe.

I’m not—Lucas, I’m not Chelsea or Sarah. I’m just a kid playing with magic and trying to keep up with you and Tyler. You don’t have to kill for me.” Lucas stares at him, because he still doesn’t get it. Chase is brilliant and powerful and sweet and theirs, and he still doesn’t fucking get it.

But for Chase, for the brave boy who loved him when he had no reason to, for the boy who wrapped himself in magic and runes and a world that he didn’t belong to, who ran with Lucas in his dreams... And for Tyler, who smiles now—small, sad, and shy—who watches the world like he’s afraid it will hurt him, who glares and snaps because he would rather drive someone away than be left behind... For them, he would wash his hands in blood, stain them red until they were never clean, would murder the world to keep them safe.

Chase rolled his eyes. "You're such an idiot." "Yeah, but I'm your idiot." "Nothing to be too proud of." "For me it is." Alex leaned forward and kissed him. It was a brief press of lips, but hinted at the promise of something much deeper

we just don't have the time to go chasing after bugs that the automated tests could have found for us. We have to spend our time writing new code—and new bugs.

Democratic senator Stephen Douglas of Illinois masterminded the legislation. Douglas saw the need to organize the territories and knew that he needed Southern support. Responding to pressure from Democratic senators James Mason and Robert M. T. Hunter of Virginia, Andrew Butler of South Carolina, and David Aitchison of Missouri, Douglas crafted the measure and included an “explicit repeal of the ban on slavery north of 36° 30’.”1 The repeal of the ban on slavery in new territories created a firestorm. Northern opponents, including Salmon Chase, condemned it as “an atrocious plot” of slave power to “convert free territory” into a “dreary region of despotism, inhabited by masters and slaves.”2 Chase and his allies published the “Appeal of the Independent Democrats” who “condemned this ‘gross violation of a sacred pledge’” and promised to “call the people to come to the rescue of the country from the domination of slavery.”3 Chase closed by warning that “the dearest interests of freedom and the Union are in imminent peril and called for religious and political organization to defeat the bill.

She couldn't tell anybody. Jumpin' would insist they call in the sheriff, but the law would never believe the Marsh Girl over Chase Andrews. She wasn't sure what the two fisherman had seen, but they'd never defend her. They'd say she had it coming because, before Chase left her, she'd been seen smooching with him for years, behaving unladylike. Actin' the ho, they'd say.

How many times, Kate?” “None.” “That’s because I don’t hunt. I’m a male lion. I weigh six hundred pounds. Do you really expect me to scamper through the brush after deer? When I want a steak, I want a damn steak. I don’t want to chase it around the woods for two hours and then eat it raw. I have food brought to me, and the only time I get off my ass is when something threatens the Pack.

I sit in the darkness of Andrew’s small studio apartment, rereading my text conversations with Gianna, scrolling through old photos, watching the videos on my phone of us play-fighting. In one clip I chased her down my hallway and blocked the doorway so she wouldn’t go home. I wish I could teleport back to that moment and live there for the rest of my life.

Wilson had a compelling reason for having recommended Herlihy: He had been involved in some of the biggest takeover battles in corporate America. Earlier in the year he had helped advise JP Morgan Chase in its acquisition of Bear Stearns. His firm—Wachtell, Lipton, Rosen & Katz—was synonymous with corporate warfare. One of its founding partners, Martin Lipton, had devised among the most famous of antitakeover defenses, the “poison pill.” If Treasury was planning a government-led hostile takeover—the first in history—then Herlihy was certainly the lawyer they wanted.

Fortunately, making friends in law school is easy because of the psychological bonding effects of group terror. In a famous social psychology experiment, researchers put a group of monkeys in the same cage with a group of lions. Monkeys and lions usually don’t socialize because the lions eat the monkeys, which causes hard feelings. Early in the experiment, it appeared events would follow this customary pattern as the lions began chasing the monkeys and the monkeys began bonking the lions on the heads with coconuts. At this point, the researchers inserted a Contracts professor into the cage who began conducting a Socratic dialogue about the doctrine of promissory estoppel. An amazing transformation occurred. The lions and monkeys immediately locked paws and began singing pub songs. Within a few minutes, the lions were giving the monkeys foot massages and the monkeys were encouraging the lions to get in touch with their inner cubs. Okay, that wasn’t a real experiment, but I’m confident it would work out that way. That’s what

Suppose Fred is given a programming assignment. Fred types in some code, tries it, and it seems to work. Fred types in some more code, tries it, and it still seems to work. After several weeks of coding this way, the program suddenly stops working, and after hours of trying to fix it, he still doesn't know why. Fred may well spend a significant amount of time chasing this piece of code around without ever being able to fix it. No matter what he does, it just doesn't ever seem to work right. Fred doesn't know why the code is failing because he didn't know why it worked in the first place. It seemed to work, given the limited "testing" that Fred did, but that was just a coincidence. Buoyed by false confidence, Fred charged ahead into oblivion.

Andrew Hall may be positioning himself now for the next coming boom cycle, but the market will need more than the predictions of some good traders to turn around. One thing that absolutely must happen is a real and measurable leveling off of production here in the U.S. Early in the bust phase for shale, with crude prices, budgets, and rig counts collapsing, I was of the opinion that indeed, production cuts would come a whole lot sooner than either the EIA or most of the bank analysts believed was possible. But I’ve been impressed by the free flow of capital that has come in to the markets looking to ‘save’ shale oil companies from their excesses, and slowing what I thought would be a violent progression of bond defaults and outright bankruptcies. In a recent note on the state of E+P, Morgan Stanley also noted the trend, when one of its analysts, Evan Calio, wrote: “Secondary offerings have been positively received by investors as a means to shore up balance sheets and pre-fund drilling programs in light of falling crude prices. Secondary offerings remain a logical way to delever [a financial term meaning to reduce debt], but also has the potential to extend the trough rather than hasten its arrival.” (emphasis mine). In other words, there is too much money still chasing oil for a quick weeding out of the weaklings. We might see a longer period of ‘survivability’ before the real wall hits.

I should have known I'd find you in here." Speak of the devil. "Yes, I'm in the office and yes, I'm checking the computer again. I admit it. I've become a cyber stalker." "Now you've taken the first step, we can find you the help you need," Chase said with a smile.

No, they weren't fucking. At least not yet, although I'm sure that's where it was leading. Alex was pleasuring Chase." Jasmine was no shrinking violet, but she had no clue as to why she'd suddenly begun to speak in euphemisms. "You can't see me right now, but I'm giving you the side eye at your Victorian turn of phrase." Stephanie's comment made her laugh. "Not the dreaded side eye." "Hell, yes, and you know what that means, right?" "Yes. You think I'm being a big goober." "For lack of a better word. But moving on, I have a question. How is it you saw all this and they didn't see you?" "I think they were too involved in each other to notice me at the door." "You think?" Stephanie paused for a moment. "Or you know?" "I didn't ask and they haven't brought it up, not really." "Not really?" "Chase made a kind of weird comment this morning, but it was nothing." "Why do I have the feeling you're deluding yourself?

Still, as much as he hated to do it, he had to give her an out. When they entered the house, he brought her to a halt with a question. "I need to know for sure. Is this what you want?" "Chase." Alex's shock at his question was more than evident. Jasmine shook her head. "No worries. This is something I didn't know I wanted, but now we're here and I'm more than willing.

losing his hair. “Ms. Chase and me,

Other major world religions are still centered in the same general geographic area from which they originated except for Christianity. Even more intriguing, the center of Christian growth continues to move. Why? This author suggests that Christian principles bring prosperity but then the prosperity brings a temptation to chase stability and respectability. Thus, Christian growth moves to an area where people are desperate enough to trust Christ alone.

If she’s too silly about cleaning, I won’t help her with her corset.” “Andrew Dandridge, we don’t speak of a lady’s unmentionables in public. Besides, where’d you learn about corsets?” Andy got a worried look on his face. “Don’t you know about them? If you’re gonna marry Hannah, you got to know how to help her with her laces.” He looked to Ted Terry, who was barely able to keep a straight face. Andy seemed to consider the matter for another minute before turning to William. “I can show you sometime how to do it. Hannah taught me.” “Well, maybe she can teach me, too,” William said with a sly smile.

So...just kissing ...?” If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Kudos to him. “Some feeling up is allowed, but nothing below the waist. And absolutely no sex.” Just saying it out loud was getting her all hot and bothered. Him too if the flare of his nostrils was any indication. God, she’d missed this. All of it. The flirting. The chase. The dance. Surprisingly she wasn’t even that rusty. It was all coming back to her. “So it’s making out. Like in high school.” “Exactly.” She smiled. “High school sucked.

Oksana’s voice chased them, booming down the smoky halls and scratching at their ankles. Every word shook something loose. A floorboard buckled and rose. A painting slid down the wall. Something crunched underfoot and his boot lost traction. Hundreds of snails carpeted the floor. “Do you know what it’s like to have nothing? To be reduced to the barest scrap of existence? To eat desperation? Of course not. You and your friends, you whine about hardships, but you’ve never tasted misery. You’re a tourist to suffering.

Drífan is a very old word. It means to drive, to force living beings to move, to cause one to flee before one’s pursuit, to chase, to hunt, to force by a blow, to proceed with violence.” “Okay,” Sean said. “None of those are good.

I am the inheritor of a proud tradition. If contemporaries don’t chase the ghosts of Chinua Achebe, James Baldwin, Charles Mungoshi, Stanlake Samkange, Yvonne Vera and other makers of the great tradition, what are we doing here?

I crawled to the right, out from under the vehicle, and dashed around it. Alessandro chased Celia with a chain saw.

I hate … and I will wreak that hate upon him”; and in Ahab’s mismatched confrontation with his decent but weak first mate, Mr. Starbuck (now of coffee-bar fame), there seemed a prescient anticipation of Yeats’s twentieth-century lament that “the best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.” Like those horrific charismatics—the Generalissimo, the Führer, and Il Duce—Ahab had his private squad of secret police, five “dusky phantoms” chosen for their proficient delight in killing, whom he keeps hidden and hungry, as if they are a pack of carnivores left to starve in their cage. Once released, they leap to the chase whenever he spies a breeching whale that might be the one he is looking for. By the early 1950s, the Trinidadian writer C. L. R. James could describe Moby-Dick as “the biography of the last days of Adolf Hitler.

before his trip to England, he had bought on account Harper’s Classical Library, which included John Dryden’s translation of the Aeneid. In Mardi, he had mentioned “Virgil my minstrel,” and in White-Jacket, the sight of Jack Chase encouraging the poet Lemsford had put him in mind of the Roman patron “Mecaenas listening to Virgil, with a book of the Aeneid in his hand.” But these pro forma nods toward the Roman poet had been conventionally reverent; it was not until sometime in 1850 that Melville had his true encounter with the Aeneid and found himself recapitulating Virgil’s story of a haunted mariner voyaging out to avenge a grievous loss.* The men of Moby-Dick are Virgilian wanderers. They long for home even as fate calls them away from “safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends, all that’s kind to our mortalities.” Early in the book, one hears echoes of Virgil’s account of the Trojan mariners preparing, after brief respite, to set sail again with ships newly caulked as Queen Dido watches them from a hilltop in Carthage.

them in order to get on with the great chase; but it is here that Melville makes his case, with tongue in cheek, against all forms of classification—including the racial form. “It is in vain,” he writes, with more than whales in mind, “to attempt a clear classification of the Leviathan,

Melville was recalling here an incident from his time aboard the Acushnet, when a young black sailor named Backus had leapt overboard during a chase. Now he turned the event into what must surely be the most terrifying image of human loneliness conceived by an American artist until the scene in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey (a very Melvillean film) in which the doomed astronaut clutches at his severed air hose while tumbling into the blackness of space.

Moby-Dick became in the broadest sense a political novel. Melville made of the Pequod a mirror of America rushing westward, poisoning itself by eating up a continent, “a cannibal of a craft … tricking herself forth in the chased bones of her enemies,

I am chasing a guy. The man I am chasing is the better version of myself, the man I am capable of becoming, the man I was put on this earth to be.

I kicked off my blanket in disgust. I’d dreamt of being beaten. The memory of the dream fluttered in front of me, still vivid. It was my eleventh birthday, and the older boudas had chased me into an old farm equipment store. I’d hid in a metal drum trough, the kind used to feed the pigs. They’d found me, poured kerosene into the drum, and set me on fire.

He doesn't like his son's choice... Father "Because you could do better!" Albert pointed to me. "Better than that? There's a fucking angel of death in your study and you thought I could do better?" "I didn't have all the information at the time. She wouldn't give you the time of day. I was sick of watching you chasing after her like some lovesick puppy." "Did I ask for your help?" "I am your father! I look after your future! They're an upstart House, and Victoria Tremaine will rip them to shreds when she gets out.: "My grandmother trusted me to hand this matter," I said. "I'm here instead of her as a courtesy to Albert because of our friendship. House Tremaine doesn't suffer fools, Mr Ravenscroft. Don't be one.

One time I was dying in a cage inside a palace that was flying over a magic jungle. And some idiot went in there, chased the palace down, fought his way through hundreds of rakshasas, and rescued me.” “I remember,” he said. “That’s when I realized you loved me,” I said. “I was in the cage and I heard you roar.” He chuckled. The tension in his shoulders eased. He hugged me and I kissed him.

He pulled me closer, and his mouth closed on mine. It was the kind of kiss that seared itself in your memory. It was possessive and hungry, infused with love and lust, a pledge and a declaration in one. It would chase you through the years, and decades later it would remind you, Do you remember how he kissed you? Do you remember what it felt like?

Then she found the strength to do one final thing. She screamed. And screamed and screamed and screamed. And as she screamed, the doll-faced girl skipped and clapped her hands and that broken dog with its missing jaw turned in excited little circles as if chasing its tail. Karina felt two things, and then she felt no more. A final violent yank across the floor, away from the door, toward the edge of the room and that painting. And something wet and old swallowing her, body and soul. Then all became darkness and anger, utter and complete and devouring, and she knew nothing else.

experimentados saben que es riesgoso entrar cuando el precio está subiendo significativamente. A eso se le conoce como perseguir la acción (chasing the stock). Los traders profesionales buscan entrar en las operaciones durante los momentos tranquilos y cobrar sus ganancias durante los momentos de volatilidad. Es el opuesto absoluto a cómo operan los traders amateurs. Estos se unen a las operaciones cuando las emisoras empiezan a moverse, pero se aburren y pierden interés cuando los precios se muestran somnolientos, por decirlo de alguna manera.

In the darkness, you’re my sunshine. You’re the sun at dawn, chasing the shadows from my wicked soul. I love you, and I’m so sorry, kitten.” A tear fell and skated down my shoulder.

W.B.D and the devils are chasing us and there’s only one way to stop them… War!

The ‘good’ future is a mirage. Once you get there, there is always another future to chase. You never get to rest. There is never enough, only more.

Hold up, you two,” Kevin stopped Alex and Andrew before they could claim separate beds. “There are only four beds, and since you two are twins, you’re going to be sharing one of them.” “WHAT?!” The shout came from them both. “That’s not fair,” Alex whined. “Yeah, why do I have to sleep with this idiot?” “Don’t act like you’re the victim here. I’m the one who’s gonna be stuck dealing with your antics, you damn bed-hogger.” Blink. A vein throbbed on Andrew’s head. “A bed-hogger, am I? Well, who’s the one who’s always stealing the sheets? Huh! Huh?!” Blink. Blink. “At least I don’t still wet the bed!” Massive blinking. “You… you promised you’d never tell anyone that! And I haven’t wet the bed in, uh, well… a while! Besides! Who was the one who left his bed a sopping mess the other day?!” “Why you… that was a special moment! SPECIAL!” Kevin, Eric, and Justin watched as the two fraternal twin brothers tackled each other to the ground. They rolled around on the floor, pushing and pulling and biting and hitting and clawing. It was like watching two dogs trying to chase each other’s tails. “Ne, Kevin, do you know what those two are talking about?” asked Eric. “No.” Kevin shook his head. “No, I don’t.” A pause. “And I don’t think I want to know.” “… Hehehe…

remember to rebalance. If the international stock market goes on a tear, don’t chase it with fresh money. If your domestic stock index and the international stock index both shoot skyward, add fresh money to your bond index.

Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it.

The anti-American militias that Quds Force had been equipping weren’t just Iraqi freedom fighters. They were a mix of jihadists from around the region. Some of the things that Chase had witnessed these groups do were pure evil. They maimed and killed civilians they thought were cooperating with the Americans. These violent acts were often carried out in public, as a scare tactic, and as a way to demonstrate power.

As is so often the case with the dreams we had when we were young, most are slowly eroded away by time, circumstance, or reason until their remnants are so faint, we don’t seriously consider chasing after them anymore.