Cool Hamilton Quotes

I worry that when you start quoting Machiavelli to justify your actions, you have ceased to be one of the good guys. No, quoting Nietzsche does that. Machiavelli is just cool.

Holy shit? She said yes? I had to force myself to play cool, because I was about to fist pump the sky or some shit.

Yeah!" shouted Jonah, twirling the much larger Hamilton around the restaurant in a victory dance. The other diners watched in amazement. This wild display was hardly the public image of the too-cool-for-school Jonah Wizard. "What's the matter?" Hamilton challenged. "Haven't you ever seen a happy rapper before?

When occasions present themselves in which the interests of the people are at variance with their inclinations, it is the duty of the persons whom they have appointed to be the guardians of those interests to withstand the temporary delusion in order to give them time and opportunity for more cool and sedate reflection. Instances might be cited in which a conduct of this kind has saved the people from very fatal consequences of their own mistakes, and has procured lasting monuments of their gratitude to the men who had courage and magnanimity enough to serve them at the peril of their displeasure.

Cam, I think it's pretty cool that you're spending time with Avery. I like her. She's nice.

I locked the door, for what good it would do me, and went to bed. The Browning Hi-Power was in its second home, a modified holster strapped to the headboard of my bed. The crucifix was cool metal around my neck. I was as safe as I was going to be and almost too tired to care. I took one more thing to bed with me, a stuffed toy penguin named Sigmund. I don't sleep with him often, just every once in a while after someone tries to kill me. Everyone has their weaknesses. Some people smoke. I collect stuffed penguins. If you won't tell, I won't.

What's a lightwave ship?" "UFO, basically." "Cool," Angela said.

Amanda Hamilton poem. “Fading moon, follow My footsteps Through light unbroken By land shadows, And share my senses That feel the cool Shoulders of silence.

Respect is more valuable then the amount of times guys flirt with you. It's better to have one trustworthy real man then any amount of boys interested in you. The "cool" guys may not notice or date you but the right one will marry you.

But it was from him - with his cool, long sideburns and aviator sunglasses, and box of watercolor paints (and artist's paycheck) - from him we learned how to create beauty where none exists, how to be generous beyond our means, how to change a small corner of the world just by making a little dinner for a few friends.

Amanda Hamilton poem. “Fading moon, follow My footsteps Through light unbroken By land shadows, And share my senses That feel the cool Shoulders of silence. “Only you know How one side of a moment Is stretched by loneliness For miles To the other edge, And how much sky Is in one breath When time slides backward From the sand.

Wars oftener proceed from angry and perverse passions than from cool calculations of interest.

In this neighborhood of unreliable cars and steady, hopeful hearts. In this city known for its winters, in the middle of the plains, in the heart of the country. In this gentle summer soon to slip into the crisp cool of fall. Here in some kind of broken down glory, they had taken root, and thrived. Mostly.

Hamilton has often been extolled as the exponent of a rational foreign policy based on cool calculations of national self-interest. But his April 14 letter expressed his unswerving conviction that nations, transported by strong emotion, often miscalculate their interests: “Wars oftener proceed from angry and perverse passions than from cool calculations of interest.

LATER, WANDERING HER BEACH, she recited her favorite Amanda Hamilton poem. “Fading moon, follow My footsteps Through light unbroken By land shadows, And share my senses That feel the cool Shoulders of silence. “Only you know How one side of a moment Is stretched by loneliness For miles To the other edge, And how much sky Is in one breath When time slides backward From the sand.” If anyone understood loneliness, the moon would.

Edward’s house. I’d never really hoped to see where he lived. He was like Batman. He rode into town, saved your ass, then vanished, and you never really expected an invitation to see the Bat Cave. Now here I was standing in front of it. Cool. It

Listen, Wesley, this may sound weird coming from me, since I hate you and all, but you can tell me stuff if you want.” It sounded like something out of a cheesy G-rated movie. Great. “I mean, I vented all of my shit about Jake to you, so if you want to do the same,… well, I’m cool with that.” The smirk slipped for a second. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then he cleared his throat and added stiffly, “Didn’t you say that you needed to go home? You don’t want to be late for school.” “Right.” I started to stand, but his warm hand closed around my wrist. I turned around and found him looking at me. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. Before I even realized what was happening, he pulled away and whispered, “Thank you, Bianca.

In this book, you’ll naturally look for common habits and recommendations, and you should. Here are a few patterns, some odder than others: More than 80% of the interviewees have some form of daily mindfulness or meditation practice A surprising number of males (not females) over 45 never eat breakfast, or eat only the scantiest of fare (e.g., Laird Hamilton, page 92; Malcolm Gladwell, page 572; General Stanley McChrystal, page 435) Many use the ChiliPad device for cooling at bedtime Rave reviews of the books Sapiens, Poor

Aristotle, the model scientist, the man of cool head and detached observation, unbiased, impersonal, does not display any dispassionate aloofness in his consideration of reason. He so loves it and delights in it that when it is the theme of discourse he cannot be held within the sober bounds of the scientific spirit. His words must be quoted, they are so characteristically Greek: Since then reason is divine in comparison with man’s whole nature, the life according to reason must be divine in comparison with (usual) human life. Nor ought we to pay regard to those who exhort us that as men we ought to think human things and keep our eyes upon mortality: nay, as far as may be, we should endeavor to rise to that which is immortal, and live in conformity with that which is best, in us. Now, what is characteristic of any nature is that which is best for it and gives most joy. Such to man is the life according to reason, since it is this that makes him man.

Up and down the coast of Asia Minor St. Paul was mobbed and imprisoned and beaten. In Athens “they brought him unto the Areopagus, saying, ‘May we know what this new teaching is?’” Aristotle, the model scientist, the man of cool head and detached observation, unbiased, impersonal, does not display any dispassionate aloofness in his consideration of reason. He so loves it and delights in it that when it is the theme of discourse he cannot be held within the sober bounds of the scientific spirit. His words must be quoted, they are so characteristically Greek: Since then reason is divine in comparison with man’s whole nature, the life according to reason must be divine in comparison with (usual) human life. Nor ought we to pay regard to those who exhort us that as men we ought to think human things and keep our eyes upon mortality: nay, as far as may be, we should endeavor to rise to that which is immortal, and live in conformity with that which is best, in us. Now, what is characteristic of any nature is that which is best for it and gives most joy. Such to man is the life according to reason, since it is this that makes him man. Love

more human, more bestial, less agonizingly inaccessible. Inaccessible to him, of course, but not inaccessible. Instead of being jealous of Peter, he was in a manner grateful to him: he had brought her down to the sordid level of Peter – and on that level she did not hurt so much. She wasn’t violets and primroses in an April rain any more: she was a woman in bed with a nasty man in Earl’s Court. Good for Peter. Could this mood hold? Was he what they called ‘disgusted’, and had he a chance of getting out of love with her now? To his surprise it had seemed for a little that there was a possibility of this. He went round and met them that morning, went and had drinks at the ‘Black Hart’, and amazed himself by his coolness. He looked at them both as he talked to them; he thought of what he now knew about them; and all he was aware of was the change in the quality of his feelings towards Netta. She was still lovely; he still wanted her: but now he didn’t want her in the same mad, adoring way. He wanted her only in the way that Peter (and the other men on whom she had no doubt bestowed her favours) wanted her. She was something to be had by men, and as such he could do without her. Or so he believed. Indeed, after a few drinks that morning, his soul began to smile to itself. It smiled both at this change in his feelings

Hamilton wrote, “When occasions present themselves in which the interests of the people are at variance with their inclinations, it is the duty of the persons whom they have appointed to be the guardians of their interests, to withstand the temporary delusion, in order to give them time and opportunity for more cool and sedate reflection.”28 Thus the people, like wayward minors, needed “guardians”—not executors of their will but interpreters of their true interests.

VICKY HAMILTON With Poison, the first following was like the fat girls’ club. There’d be a line of fat girls across the front of the stage. And then, like, the gay boys showed up. You know, there was a Sex in the City episode about, like, the fat girls and the gay boys? That was absolutely about Poison. Then the cool girls came, and then the guys came.

I worry that when you start quoting Machiavelli to justify your actions, you have ceased to be one of the good guys.” “No, quoting Nietzsche does that. Machiavelli is just cool.

It’s only going to take another week of this and we’re going to have the mother of all humanitarian crises on our hands. The Independencies are already living on food stocks that aren’t going to last long. The algaepaddies can’t survive prolonged cooling, which is going to eliminate ten percent of GE’s bioil supply. Most of Highcastle is already camped out by the gateway demanding to return. And nobody is making any decisions, certainly not in the GE. Every commissioner is running scared of a decision. Right now they’re having summits about holding summits on what to do. I’ve never seen anything so pathetic. Even the licensed news shows are sneering.” Vance

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The moment Jace Calder saw his sister's face, he feared the worst. His heart sank. Emily, his troubled little sister, had been doing so well since she'd gotten the job at the Sarah Hamilton Foundation in Big Timber, Montana. "What's wrong?" he asked as he removed his Stetson, pulled up a chair at the Big Timber Java coffee shop and sat down across from her. Tossing his hat on the seat of an adjacent chair, he braced himself for bad news. Emily blinked her big blue eyes. Even though she was closing in on twenty-five, he often caught glimpses of the girl she'd been. Her pixie cut, once a dark brown like his own hair, was dyed black. From thirteen on, she'd been piercing anything she could. At sixteen she'd begun getting tattoos and drinking. It wasn't until she'd turned seventeen that she'd run away, taken up with a thirty-year-old biker drug-dealer thief and ended up in jail for the first time. But while Emily still had the tattoos and the piercings, she'd changed after the birth of her daughter, and after snagging this job with Bo Hamilton. "What's wrong is Bo," his sister said. Bo had insisted her employees at the foundation call her by her first name. "Pretty cool for a boss, huh?" his sister had said at the time. He'd been surprised. That didn't sound like the woman he knew. But who knew what was in Bo's head lately. Four months ago her mother, Sarah, who everyone believed dead the past twenty-two years, had suddenly shown up out of nowhere. According to what he'd read in the papers, Sarah had no memory of the past twenty-two years. He'd been worried it would hurt the foundation named for her. Not to mention what a shock it must have been for Bo. Emily leaned toward him and whispered, "Bo's… She's gone.

He was looking at both of us, the gun held easily in his big hands. "What's with the sunglasses, bitch?" I let the name calling go. They had all the guns. "They look cool," I said He laughed then, a warm growly sound. A nice laugh if he hadn't been armed.

In a democracy, writes Hamilton in Federalist 71, the people commonly intend the public good, but they do not “always reason right about the means of promoting it.” They sometimes err; and the wonder is that they so seldom err as they do, beset, as they continually are, by the wiles of…sycophants… [and] the artifices of men who possess their confidence more than they deserve it…. When occasions present themselves, in which the interests of the people are at variance with their inclinations, it is the duty of the persons whom they have appointed to be the guardians of those interests, to withstand the temporary delusion, in order to give them time and opportunity for more cool and sedate reflection. Instances might be cited in which a conduct of this kind has saved the people from very fatal consequences of their own mistakes, and has procured lasting monuments of their gratitude to the men who had courage and magnanimity enough to serve them at the peril of their displeasure. Humility

The early days of springtime in New York were reliably fickle with heat rising and cool wind blowing, with shadows and rain and shimmering sunlight falling on blooms, the city one step ahead and setting the rhythm for residents trying to keep its pace. In a topsy-turvy continuous motion, it reminded them they’d somersault and skid and finally turn in the direction they ought to go.

So here she was in an alien arkship in a time-skewed enclave, where she’d arrived by traveling down a wormhole for fifty thousand light-years, ten thousand years after fleeing her home, battling a religious extremist alien with a grudge. Cool.

You know what I think? Edenists don’t get caught in the beyond because you’re cool enough under pressure to figure your way out. Well, me too, pal. Laton said there was a way out. I believe him. The Kiint found it. Just knowing that it’s possible is my ticket to exit.

Joan Randall ran into his arms. Tears of joy glimmered in her eyes as her soft face lifted to his. In this moment, she did not look like the cool, alert girl agent of the Planet Police who had shared more than one dangerous adventure with Curt Newton. “Captain Future, I knew you’d come back!” she cried. “Everyone said you’d met death out there in interstellar space, but I knew you’d return some day!” —Edmond Hamilton; Outlaws of the Moon (1942)

Today, of course, the idea that new media technologies might be deployed by an enlightened class of literati to calm and refine public opinion seems quaint. In an age of social media, the opposite dynamic occurs, as journalists, scholars, and public officials pander to the most extreme and passionate voices on social media rather than slowly diffuse reason across the land. Madison believed the print media should promote cool deliberation; the social media model is “enrage to engage.” At the same time, new media are undermining the speed bumps of time and space that Madison thought would make it difficult for mobs to mobilize and act impulsively. The passions, hyper-partisanship, and split-second decision-making that Madison and Hamilton feared from large, concentrated groups meeting face-to-face have proved to be even more dangerous from exponentially larger, dispersed groups that meet online.

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a fair resting place, full of summer sounds and scents, the stream deliciously cool to the feet, and the grass like a pillow gently sloping to the head. I shall lie down and do you choose the position you can best read in. Begin.

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