Coho Quotes

Bitch you.

I didn't want you to fall in love with me because of fate...I wanted you to fall in love with me simply because you couldn't help yourself.

I had that picture made the day after I took it," he says. "It's been in my apartment for months now, because you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and I wanted to look at it every single day."

Nothing in my life has ever felt so good, yet hurt so achingly bad.

Ryle," I say carefully. "Did you seriously just knock on twenty-nine doors so you could tell me that the thought of me is making your life hell and I should have sex with you so that you'll never have to think of me again? Are you

As soon as he gives his attention to someone at the other end of the bar, I take a drink of my coffee and close my eyes and cry because life can be so fucking cruel and hard, and I've wanted to quit living it so many times, but then moments like these remind me that happiness isn't some permanent thing we're all tying to achieve in life, it's merely a thing that shows up every now and then, sometimes in tiny doses that are just substantial enough to keep us going.

He’s not a bad man, Thea,” he said. “You saw him at his worst.” “What better time is there to know a man than at his worst?

Nothing is so disappointing to me as an intelligent woman who makes herself stupid for a man

God Layken. How do you do it?" she says. "How do I do what?" I sniff as I continue to wipe the tears from my eyes. "How do you not fall in love with him?" The tears begin flowing just as quickly as they had ceased….."I don't not fall in love with him. I don't not fall in love with him a lot!

The committee had been baffled by Bee. She had no fingerprints on record. The Committee believed her to be either Florence White, a plain and friendless girl who had disappeared from a steam laundry in Cohoes, New York, or Darlene Simpkins, a plain and friendless girl who had last been seen accepting a ride with a swarthy stranger in Brownsville, Texas.

This won’t go anywhere,” I tell her. “This thing with us. It won’t end well.” “I know,” she whispers. “How do we stop it?” I ask her. She looks at me, hoping I’ll answer my own question. I can’t. Silence.

I squeeze my eyes shut and try to drown out the smooth sound of his voice as it slides into my ears and makes its way through every nerve in my body, warming me in places this flimsy blanket failed to do all night.

I lower my mouth to his and kiss him softly. He closes his eyes and begins to ease his head against the bed. "Keep them open," I whisper, pulling away from his lips. He opens them, regarding me with and intensity that penetrates straight to my core. "I want you to keep them open...because I need you to watch me give you the very last piece of my heart.

if you only shine light on your flaws, all your perfects will dim

Trout trudged onward, a stranger in a strange land. His pilgrimage was rewarded with new wisdom, which would never have been his had he remained in his basement in Cohoes. He learned the answer to a question many human beings were asking themselves so frantically: "What's blocking the traffic on the westbound barrel of the Midland City stretch of the Interstate?

Se van marchando. Un día se marchan los siete años, pum. Otro día se marchan los coho, pum. Otro día se van los nueve, pum. Y después no los busque por ninguna parte, porque, si los encuentra, seguro que ya no son sus hijos. Sino parecidos. Con sus apellidos. Con algunos gestos de entonces, eso sí. [...] Se han ido y ya no vuelven. Y tú entonces te dices dónde leñes has estado mirando y qué has estado haciendo todo este tiempo.

The diversity of salmon in the river—Chinook, Chum, Pink and Coho—ensured that the people would not go hungry, likewise the forests. Swimming many miles inland, they brought a much-needed resource for the trees: nitrogen. The spent carcasses of spawned-out salmon, dragged into the woods by bears and eagles and people, fertilized the trees as well as Skunk Cabbage. Using stable isotope analysis, scientists traced the source of nitrogen in the wood of ancient forests all the way back to the ocean. Salmon fed everyone.

There are five species of Pacific salmon in North America: the chum, the coho, the sockeye, the pink, and the Chinook. Each has its own diminutive: the chum is the dog, or the keta, the coho the silver, the sockeye the red, the pink the humpy, and the Chinook is the king. The original Chinook are people of the Pacific Northwest, and their language formed the core of Chinook Jargon, a pidgin trading language that stretched from Alaska to the Columbia River, along what now forms the border of Washington and Oregon, and incorporated the words of many tribes, as well as French and English. Any Canadian will still say Chinook for king, the best and biggest of the fish that the Chinook people traded.

I don’t know if once you die you remember things that happened to you when you were alive. It makes a certain logical sense that you wouldn’t. That being dead will feel like before you were born, which is to say, a whole lot of nothingness. Except that for me, at least, my prebirth years aren’t entirely blank. Every now and again, Mom or Dad will be telling a story about something, about Dad catching his first salmon with Gramps, or Mom remembering the amazing Dead Moon concert she saw with Dad on their first date, and I’ll have an overpowering déjà vu. Not just a sense that I’ve heard the story before, but that I’ve lived it. I can picture myself sitting on the riverbank as Dad pulls a hot-pink coho out of the water, even though Dad was all of twelve at the time.

HOWARD TANNER WAS NEVER BIG ON THE IDEA OF VALUING NATIVE species simply because they are native. His priority in the 1960s was to convert the lakes from a resource primarily managed as a commercial fishery into a sportsmen’s haven, and native species just didn’t fit his bill—and they still don’t. “I doubt if the charter boat captains can sustain a fishery on lake trout,” he said. He called trolling for native walleye “about the most boring thing you can do.” “Like bringing in a wet sock,” he said.

On the first lure above the lead, some trollers sometimes put a golf tee in a hoochie without a hook to give unwanted bottom fish something to chew on in hopes the second leader up might catch a coho or king salmon.

There's so much more to relationships than just love.

Silas says go into that store and ask for a hotdog. When they tell you they don’t have hotdogs, stomp your foot really hard and scream like you did in the hotel this morning.” “What the—” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Silas says.” Why the hell am I even doing this? I give Silas the dirtiest look I can and stomp off in the direction of the store he pointed me to. It’s an insurance agency. I swing open the door and three grouchy-looking adults raise their heads to see who has walked in. One of them even has the audacity to scrunch up their nose at me, like I don’t already know I’m dripping water everywhere. “I’d like a hotdog with everything,” I say. I’m met with blank stares. “Are you drunk?” the receptionist asks me. “Do you need help? What’s your name?” I stomp my foot and let out a bloodcurdling scream, at which all three of them drop whatever they’re holding and look at each other. I take their moment of surprise to run out. Silas is waiting for me outside the door. He’s laughing so hard; he’s bent over at the waist. I punch him on the arm and then we both run for the Rover.

he’s a coho guy

I'll love you forever, even when I can't.

There is no such thing as bad people. We're all just people who sometimes do bad things

We’re going to suggest what is for this culture a radical redefinition of what it means for an action to be “green” or “environmental,” which is that the action must tangibly benefit the natural world on the natural world’s own terms. Not that the action helps fuel the industrial economy. Not that the action makes your life easier. Not that the action seems like a success, such that it helps you not feel despair. The action must tangibly help tigers, or hammerhead sharks, or Coho salmon, or Pacific lampreys, or sea stars, or the oceans, or the Colorado River, or the Great Plains.

Seja minha esposa Quinn, enfrente os momentos de categoria 5 comigo

you'll cry tonight, in bed; that's when it'll hurt the most, when you're alone

waters off Vancouver Island are home to Chinook and coho salmon, rockfish, lingcod, and the giant halibut—the major carnivore fish of the Pacific Northwest. Now, a new species of carnivore has made this oceanic waterway its home. The orca are transients, the resident killer whales having mysteriously vacated the area weeks earlier. There are six whales in the pod: two mature females, two calves,

Sandy beaches still rim the lakes, but if Lake Michigan, for example, were drained it would now be possible to walk almost the entire 100 miles between Wisconsin and Michigan on a bed of trillions upon trillions of filter-feeding quagga mussels.

Albacore tuna, troll or pole caught, fresh or canned, U.S. or British Columbia Arctic char, farmed Barramundi, farmed, U.S. Coho salmon, farmed, U.S. Dungeness crab, wild, California, Oregon, or Washington Longfin squid, wild, Atlantic Mussels, farmed Oysters, farmed Pacific sardines, wild Pink shrimp, wild, Oregon Rainbow trout, farmed Salmon, wild, Alaska Spot prawns, wild, British Columbia

On the Pacific Coast, salmon usually is sold by species name because of the differences in color, texture, and flavor among species. Chinook (or king) salmon, for example, which ranges in color from white to deep salmon, is the highest-quality salmon and therefore the highest priced. Little of this salmon is canned because most is sold fresh or smoked. Sockeye is the reddest of all varieties, is of high quality, and also is high in price. Silver, medium-red, or Coho salmon, usually a rich orange color slightly touched with red, is widely used for canning. Pink or humpback salmon is lighter in color but has excellent flavor and is good for use in many combination recipes. Chum or keta salmon is light colored and bland in flavor.Δ